*edited to correct the glaring spelling errors - sorry*
Oy. Pioneer Club resumed at church last night. The boys were ecstatic, and I relished the idea of seeing everyone again. We ate supper, everyone hit the potty, and then we packed up and headed north. Now that we've moved, our church is an hour from the house, so it's a bit of a drive. John and Smidge sabotaged me yesterday afternoon -- I laid down with them so they'd nap and as soon as I was out cold, they took the pup outside to play. So naturally, they both fell asleep on the drive to church. Ah, well, they're little. It's okay.
We pull into the parking lot and John wakes immediately, crying. He has to pee. BAD. NOW. I get James out, get John out and give them instructions to go straight to the bathroom AND DO NOT DAWDLE!! They hold hands and head inside. As I'm lifting Smidge from the pickup, I hear James telling John, "No, not there! Come on! THIS way!" I turn around in time to see my son, the fountain of youth, urinating off the front porch of the church! Pants clean down to his boots, nekkid white legs illuminated by the glow of the sanctuary lights. So, being the nurturing, with-it mother that I am, what do I scream across the parking lot?
"NOOOOOOOO! OH MY GOD, STOP! JOHN, NO!"
*sigh* Lovely, Dy. And then what do I see? One of the elders walking across the lot. (This is where I pray, for the first time since, oh, Junior High, for God to just kill me now and make it end.) John turns and waddles all the way to the front door before remembering to pull his pants up. In this particular nightmare, he cannot hear me, as my screams fell on deaf ears. I think he was still partially asleep, but am still mortified - both by his behavior and my particular choice of panic-stricken words. But it's too late. They're inside. I can't hide in the pickup now.
So Smidge and I go in, do our thing. Lovely evening. Nice to see everyone. Nobody speaks of the incident. Myself included.
On the way out the door after Pioneer Club, I overhear part of a conversation between James and a little girl from his class. My heart skips a beat. I do not want to hear this conversation. I do not want to see my son skipping about with *that* grin on his face. What? No. No, I tell myself, this isn't what I think it is. Girls do this at this age. Girls in public school who listen to Brittany Spears and get to wear skimpy clothing. Not homeschooled boys who still make fart jokes! PLEASE!
We're in the car, buckling up, and I hear that someone has an "embarrassing secret". Yup, he's "in love". Worse yet, he told her tonight. Oy. And just to grind a little salt into that not-quite-ready-for-this wound, "it's just sprouting, budding like a new flower." Lovely, I've spawned a poet, to boot. Nice imagery, but... but... why did we leave Zorak at home? I neeeeeeeeed him for this talk!
I stutter, stammer, and beg off from replying to things on the premise that there's traffic and I have to concentrate on shifting gears (in my defense, it is a manual transmission, but yes, I realize that I am now telling my child I'm an idiot who cannot walk and chew gum at the same time - it was all I had, man.)
We discussed agape love, filial love and... oh, crap, there is no way I'm teaching this child the term "eros love" at this age. He knows too much as it is. And, um, the love Mommy and Daddy have, which takes DECADES to grow and develop and which God won't reveal to you until you have survived the trauma of many, many dysfunctional partners, so that you can fully appreciate the Woman God Has Ordained For You.
Hmmm... no, that's probably not the best approach. Well, let's face it, my single life in no way prepared me to help guide a child into making healthy personal relationship choices, ok? I have never claimed otherwise. And Zorak? *snort* He's in worse shape than I am. It is pure Divine Grace that he and I found one another and managed to get this far.
*sigh* So, I did manage to get him focused on the love we feel toward our brothers and sisters in Christ, the love of friendship, and the importance of making sure you've found your own way and path in life before even beginning to worry about finding a wife (because that is his concern - that he's going to miss the one God has picked for him, or in some way let her down, and he doesn't want to do that). So we're good? We're focusing on friendship and finding your own path first? OK, good. *whew* Oh-and by-the-way-would-you-please-clarify-that-with-her-the-next-time-you-see-her-because-I'm-already-going-to-have-to-give-her-mother-an-awkward-heads-up-as-it-is-thanks.
I think next week I'm letting Zorak take the boys and I'll stay home...
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
11 comments:
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! Sorry, but that is SOOo funny!!!! No worries, the peeing little brother that tags along will spoil any serious relationships for some years to come.
Well, I'm sure that the elder has written his name in the snow once or twice, AND has probably responded to one of his children in much the same way, so I wouldn't worry on that front.
As for the new romance? Hmmmm. At least he's poetic about it, eh?
Why not just tease him mercilessly, and then he won't want to be seen with her for fear of providing more ammo for you? Yeah, it's not really the picture of loving motherhood, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Tell John 'nice work' for me, will ya? He he.
Oh my!! Thank you for the wonderful laugh! I think my son was 4 when when he felt "the urge" during coffee hour after church, and raced from one end to the other of the packed church hall with his pants down (in preparation, you understand). It was one of those "mommy moments" that I don't think I'll forget.
I think your "finding your own path first" answer to young love is great. I think it is lovely that your little guy is so poetic!
Cordially,
Melora
Oh my, what an evening! I would be up all night, reliving all of those scenes and conversations.
James reminds me of my brother at around age... I remember when my brother totally fell for this cute little girl in forth grade and he was convinced that she was the one he would marry. I remember having quite a few talks with him (I was a whole eight years older and oh so mature and knowledgeable about the world at 16 - lol) about how he had his life stretching out before him and so much would change in himself and his life - yada yada yada. It largely fell on deaf ears, and when the little girl "broke up" with him a week later he was completely devastated. I really like your tactic of talking about the importance of finding your own way before trying to find a wife - I wish I had thought of that when I was talking to my brother!
My children are absolutely not allowed to grow up at all. Well, Gregory can become a toddler, but that's it!! *grin*
LOL!! What a great story! I'm sorry, it probably isn't very funny to you right now, but it will be someday.
I am sure the peeing thing is pretty common- especially among country boys. Just today a friend and I were talking about local beaches and how finally this year she could take her young son to one. I jokingly remarked how the only problem she would have with him now is making sure he doesn't pee on the sand!
As for the puppy love- I think you handled it well. Those conversations are the worst and I always feel as if I am giving too much advice and going way over their heads. I have been known to pull the old, "I'm driving right now and I have to concentrate" trick myself.
ROFLOLOL! From another mother of "public pee-ers!" :-)
I can't even imagine my boys being in love yet. *sigh* I guess we'll survive.
In a box in my room, hidden away, is a red, heart-shaped candy box with little trinkets and gifts from the Boy's first love. He was in kindegarten, and he was so sweetly in love with a snow white blonde, just as petite and cute as he was. Her name was Brittney. He occasionally still gets misty-eyed when thinking of her- even at 13.5. 1st loves are amazing things!
Now, how do I set up this msn instant messaging thing so we can chat sometime??
LB
I read a lot of blogs here and there and lose track of which story goes with whom, but is this the lad who wants a wife with a gold start on her forehead?
And when *is* you due date? Perhaps you'll be busy next week?
Hi Heidi! Actually, the mad urinator is the one who wants to marry the girl with the gold star. It looks like we've birthed a small herd of hopeless romantics!
Our edd is anywhere from the 6th (obviously missed that one) to the 19th, so literally any day now could be Emily's Big Day! (Kinda hoping for a busy week next week, too.)
It's good to see you again.
Dy
Once upon a time there was a boy just out of eighth grade who fell for a girl in his drama class. He told her so. She agreed to go see Gremlins with him and they ate bagels after drama class all summer. After a month of this they kissed for the first time the day before she turned 16 because, he said, he didn't want her to be "sweet sixteen and never been kissed." She informed him that she hadn't been aware that was considered a problem, but wasn't really that put off by the kiss anyway. The summer ended. They didn't drive, they didn't live near each other, they didn't go to the same high school. So "they" ended but stayed friends.
And then ten years later he asked her to move across the country to be with him. She did. They got married. And now they have Max, Ben, and Milo.
I tell Max, when these things come up, that his future wife will want a man who is wise, clear of debt, and old enough to make good decisions. But she will also want him to be her best friend. These qualities demand time and practice and he has my permission to practice the friendship part in the meantime.
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