And I hate wind...

So recently my darling and eccentric middle child, Liam awoke in the middle of the night. He came to our door and told me that he was afraid of the shadows in his room and that he wanted to sleep with us. Well at four years old he is getting too big to sleep with us - especially since he sleeps sideways in the bed.

"Buddy we need to go get back in your bed now."

"NO," he cries "I want to sleep in your bed."

I lead him wimpering back into his room - which is completely breaking my heart. He gets into bed and starts to cry louder than before. I gently stroked his hair and told him that he was a big boy now since he'd turned four.

"I don't want to be four. I want to stay three. I don't want to be big. I'm never eating again so I will stay small." All the while he's doing that yelling kind of crying with no tears and his eyes are closed because he's barely awake.

"Oh," I respond.

"I hate this," He bellows eyes still closed.

"I'm sorry you're unhappy," I say.

"I hate my bed," he continues "I hate my friends. I hate school." It's summer and he's not even in school. "and I hate wind and I hate the snow. I never want to play in the snow ever again!"

"I thought you liked the snow"

"No I hate it and I want to stay inside with Mommy."

"But I like playing in the snow," I tell him.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME INSIDE BY MYSELF," he cries having now woken his brother and sister. They are not happy and the house is all atwitter at 1 am. FUN!

I'm never certain how these conversations go off the rails in such a monumental way but nonetheless here it is. In less than 90 seconds we went from him not wanting to sleep in his bed because he was afraid of shadows to me abandoning him in the house to play in some future snow storm. Well eventually the other two were settled down and I thought little Liam was asleep too but three hours later I awoke to find him in my bed anyway.

All for naught you say? Hardly. I got a story out of it...

Look Mommy...

I have realized since becoming a parent that household items, food, cleaning products, body care, etc. are in fact meant for many more exciting purposes than I could have ever imagined - at least to three year old little boys.

Every Liam event (yes they are events) begins the same way - with the cliche of the mother (me) realizing that the house is far too quiet. Followed by a search throughout calling "Liam! Where are you?" To no avail because little boys have selective hearing - especially when they're hiding from you doing something they know you're not going to like. Virtually every time - when I finally locate him - he greets me with the proudest smile, as if to say "Look Mommy what a wonderful and creative boy I am." I respond with the requisite "How could you have possibly done all this in so little time?!?!" Time to clean up the mess...

The three year old year was one I would never want to trade and yet I am hoping - now that he's recently turned 4 - that the fascination with such experimentation will take a more scaled down approach.

It all started when one day I found him in the closet standing inside my husband's empty laundry basket doing a little dance.

"What are you doing in there buddy?" I innocently asked.

"I'm skating," he smiled "With lotion," he stated deviously.

He had squirted an entire bottle of lotion into the bottom of the basket which created a virtual skating rink for Liam to slip and slide in to his heart's content. That was the beginning but it took a few more times for me to finally catch on.

It is important to note that just prior to Liam turning three his baby brother was born. The baby never, and I mean NEVER slept making mommy a little nutty and a lot fruity. Therefore, my peripheral vision and hearing were impacted to some degree leaving open a large window for Liam to experiment a bit more freely than he might have otherwise. Ok, explanation complete.

The next was the time I found him behind the curtains in my bedroom with a paint brush and a tube of the baby's vaseline. "Look Mommy I'm painting your wall!" Awesome...

There was a lull in said behavior as I began to catch on and confiscated nearly everything in the house. For awhile there was nothing that he could get into. Until one night, Laney (the oldest) had a cold and she asked for some Vicks Vapo Rub. I obliged and while I religiously remember to put such things back up on the highest shelf that night I did not. I left it in Laney's room on her dresser after Liam had gone to bed.

The next morning I walked out of my bedroom to be met by a naked Liam covered from hair to toes in...wait for it...Vicks Vapo Rub. He smiled proudly up at me stating "Look Mommy, I'm all shiny!"

After toweling and bathing and toweling again he still had a film and repeated over and over again "I'm cold Mommy," to which I replied "I'm sure you are buddy. You'll just have to wait for it to wear off."

Around Halloween things took a more dramatic turn. One day I was in the family room with

Liam and the baby sitting on the floor - Laney was in school (note that if Laney were ever around during any of these escapades they surely would not have happened. We don't call her The Enforcer for nothing). Liam announces that he needs to go upstairs to get something and he will be right back. Well after a very short amount of time I call to him - I'm catching on at this point and I wasn't allowing him to wander far for long. I called again and he answers from the kitchen "I'm in the kitchen just cleaning up a little mess."

I remained seated and for a split second thinking to myself "Isn't that nice," lack of sleep was really getting to me by then. I quickly snapped out of it, got up, and went into the kitchen. It took me a second to realize what I stepped in but when it dawned on me that I was standing in a pile of flour as deep as my foot I was shocked. I looked up to find flour - an entire brand new bag of flour - creating a three foot trail from the pantry, where it had previously lived, to the foot of the staircase. At the bottom of the staircase was Liam standing in the giant pile of flour that he had dumped out when he'd reached his destination. I suppose I should have been thankful that he didn't try to take it upstairs. The most shocking thing is that I had been sitting less than 10 feet away and I never heard a thing. The kid is stealthy!

He stood in the pile of flour that covered his feet like they were buried in sand at the beach. In his hand he had his little toy broom and he was determined to sweep up all the flour with this tiny little thing. Next to him was the head of Dora the Explorer, the empty bag of flour, an ice cream scoop, and one yellow rubber kitchen glove. It looked like the scene of a very strange crime. He looked at my astonished, speechless face and smiled nonchalantly, as if this were something he did all the time - then he went back to sweeping.

I'm always fairly certain during a Liam event that he knows what he's doing is not a good choice and yet the pride with which he attacks these undertakings tells me otherwise. Further, he is always just as happy as can be to clean-up after them. I take that back, he will clean up until he's done cleaning whether the work is done or not.

I honestly don't remember what happened next except that I took pictures.

Within the same month, Liam was having a particularly good day as he had recently tackled potty training. He was very proud of this new found freedom. On this day, I had picked him up from school and brought him home for lunch. I made lunch while he played. He announced that he was going to the bathroom and could I please turn on the light. As a parent those are the moments that make the chaos worthwhile. It was a lovely peaceful afternoon and all was right with the world.

Famous last words...

As I finished preparing lunch for him and the baby I revelled in the sound of Liam washing his hands, singing, and playing in the sink - which I saw no problem with since I had always let his sister do it. A couple of minutes passed and I went to get him to come have lunch. I walked into the bathroom to find him playing sweetly. The sink was filled with bubbles and he had toys on the counter. I pulled out the stopper and put my hands into the bubbles to get the toys out. Since there were bubbles I couldn't see THE ENTIRE ROLL OF TOILET PAPER he had shredded into the sink full of soap and water.

I pulled out a handful and looked at him. Again, he had the proudest smile on his face "Look Mommy I made goop!!" And once again, before I did anything I took pictures.

Then he helped me pull the crud out of the drain and deposit all of it in the trash. I explained that it was not ok to use the toilet paper to make 'goop'. He didn't understand how anything that great could be bad. But he never did it again so I assume I got through...

Liam continues to astonish us everyday with his wit, curiosity, and spirit. If I don't end up in a mental hospital there will always be an abundance of stories to fill our days. It's never boring that's for sure.

Until next time...

Every Toilet Seat in America

I've been thinking about this hilarious story for a very long time and I've never written it down. It illustrates the point that we can find humor in virtually any situation if we just allow it to be so. My friend told me this story years ago about a member of her family.

This friend's grandmother, we'll call her Bea, had been a cleaning lady for many years in large office buildings and hotels. Bea had worked hard to support her family and prepare for the future. She had never complained nor had she ever missed a day of work. Bea was a strong and committed southern lady who did what needed to be done and that was that!

After all those years of working hard Bea had reached retirement age. Her family members had a party for her and she sat around her children and grandchildren for whom she had worked so hard all those years. They smiled and laughed enjoying the party. At some point one of her children asked Bea what she wanted to do with her retirement and she said "I want to pee on every toilet seat in America!"

"I'm sorry I don't think I heard you right Mother. It sounded like you said you want to pee on every toilet seat in America but that can't be right."

"Why the hell not!" Bea exclaimed "I've been wipin' up other people's piss for 40 years - it's my turn now!"

Father's Day Belated

Well it's obviously been a little busy around here lately because it's two weeks past Father's Day and I'm just getting around to this. It might only be a week come to think of it but I honestly no longer have a good sense of time or space I just take things day to day. However, I did want to talk a little about Dads if I could.

On Father's Day before the big bash at 3pm I played my monthly gig at a local restaurant with my guitarist, Bob. Shortly after I arrived, a large family came to celebrate the day together. They sat, all 12 of them, next to us in very close proximity. I was, as I always am, very conscious in this environment of remaining background music as much as possible so as not to disturb their meal. Yet, the more I sang the more they engaged. This was lovely and welcome as it is often difficult to play in a restaurant when people are not there to see you and they would rather talk than listen. When I returned from the only short break of the day Bob stated that the 80 year old patriarch of the family had come up to give compliments and make a request that we play "Misty." We happily obliged and he smiled warmly. As the time progressed, we saw families come and go but they stayed for the duration eating, smiling, listening, talking. At one point the patriarch walked to the end of the long table and picked-up his infant great granddaughter out of the high chair where she'd been smiling and charming the room. She raised her arms to be held and he bounced her slowly around the table and walked around the restaurant.



At that moment I thought of my own father and the similar joy that he derives from seeing my children smile, play, and meet new milestones. I saw my husband toiling over how to create the perfect Christmas or taking pictures of every moment so as not to forget a thing. I thought how similar we all are as people and families. Our backgrounds may be different but in that moment watching that 80 year old African American gentleman walk his baby great granddaughter around he was my father and grandfather. I knew him and he knew me even if we never spoke to eachother. There is a knowing in that kind of love that binds us all to one another.



I left the gig feeling fulfilled and went on to the Father's Day festivities to celebrate my amazing husband and dad. Upon arriving at my father and step-mother's house my kids were happy and playing in their second home. Dad was carrying the baby much as that gentleman had been at the restaurant. The baby hugs him and reaches for his Zayde as my father is really the baby's favorite person. Everytime the baby does this my dad says "Do you see this? Why does he love me so much?" He's amazed and so appreciative. He deserves the love.



My husband arrived shortly after me and stayed the majority of the day outside with the two older kids in the sweltering heat playing and keeping watch. Coming in only to find food and make sure I didn't need him. Even on Father's Day he is a partner - stronger and more patient than me - the definition of better half he teaches me the meaning of peace, calm, and the value of maintaining a sense of humor (a lesson I am frequently in need of learning).

The world is fractured in many ways with so many advancements creating a cultural lag that has most of us confused and often overwhelmed. We have so many more options than once upon a time when things were simple. Yet on Father's Day and frequently in my life, if I choose to pay attention there are those moments when life is simple when family is all that matters and we feel only love.

I told my Dad that he was too normal to be a funny blog post but I didn't want the Special Occasion to pass without the acknowlegement that - flaws and all - I have always known I was loved and that gift is worth all the money in the world. Thanks Dad, Keith, and all the Dads who show up and do the work even if they don't always get the big piece of chicken - or tofu.