We had finished our book, turned off the lights, pulled the quilt up to his chin. I snuggled in beside him for our nightly bedtime discussion and to deliver a few kisses. Sometimes it's a game where I say something like, "ok, now I need to get some of that forehead" and then plant a kiss and then "better get a bit of that cheek" or "the chin" etc. After a bit Jackson takes my face in his hands and ask to take a look at my teeth. "Better kiss your teeth, mama." "No! Don't kiss my teeth!" He giggles but continues to investigate my teeth. He finally looks up and declares, "Mama, we need to trim those teeth."
Walking into school this morning, I patted the top of Jackson's head and asked him if he would like to hold my hand. He considered the offer for a moment and then looked up at me and said: "No, mama. This isn't a parking lot."
Every night after putting Jackson to bed, Eric and I are always amazed at the odd noises that drift from under the nursery door and into the hallway. There is always whispering, tapping, singing, reading, some thumping and occasional raucous laughter. Last night, it was as though some great engineering project was underway. "It always sounds like there's a science project going on in there," Eric noted after putting his ear to the door. As long as Jackson is in bed and keeping things somewhat quiet, we don't mind what projects he's taking on, because eventually they all lead to sleep. However, on one particular night there was a lot of whispered discussion going on, some scuffling and some excessive rattling. Finally, we both got up and poked our heads in expecting to find a miniature volcano replication in the middle of the room or multiple lab tests being conducted on Elmo. Instead, there was Jackson in bed pulling a pair of Eric's smelly socks on and up past his …
We are scheduled for a trip to the East Coast this summer and I have been prepping Jackson for the flight. Some kids like to have a lot of pre-event discussion and some kids can't deal with the build up. What kid of tactics do/did you use?
Jackson has always been the kind who prefers a lot of prep time and discussion about upcoming events. He has flown several times before, but I think it's fun to get excited about any trip. Not that we spend a whole lot of time on it, but for example, last night when he put on his New York Yankees ball cap he asked me where it came from and I mentioned his New York relatives and how we will soon be on our way to visit them. He has a few pre-flight concerns:
We'll go on an airplane?
Not mama's car?
No. Not in my car.
Will I get a seat belt?
Yes. Your very own seat belt. Sometimes you can sit on my lap. But you will have your own seat and tray and everything! And we can color, have snacks, read books and play with stickers...
During a recent rush to get everyone into the car, Eric blurted out, "Damn it!" It wasn't even that loud or noticeable, and I probably wouldn't have even realized he had said anything at all if it hadn't been for the two-year-old with the superb hearing in the back seat.
We don't say 'damn it,' Daddy.
You're right. We don't. I shouldn't have said it.
If you say 'damn it' at the park, the church bells will call you and say 'no-no.'
We don't say 'damn it,' Daddy. Nonnie doesn't say it, and Mama doesn't say it. I doesn't say it, and Mam doesn't say it. Grandad doesn't say it. Phillip doesn't say it and Paw-Paw doesn't say it.
Eric contemplated this list of such pious friends and relatives.
Actually, Jackson, I think you may have just named the people that Daddy learned it from.
Don't you hate it when you've finally gotten around to switching out all the winter clothes for the summer ones and just as you've finally gotten everything back in its drawer you realize the dryer is done so you go in to fold the laundry and there, lying in a warm heap of colors are three more sweaters, one more long sleeve tee and a sweatshirt?
Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and he bends you with his might that his arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so he loves also the bow that is stable.
This morning, Jackson was getting upset as he was putting on his new Toy Story underwear. The set was a gift so he was very exited to wear them. But when he went to put on a pair he was concerned about the overall design:
Oh no Daddy! It doesn't go that way!
Yes, they do. Buzz goes in the back.
No! But then I can't see him!
Well ... I guess you're going to have to talk to the manufacturers about that. Tell him Buzz should be on the front so can see him.
Jackson attended his first college class this week. That's right. His SAT scores were off the charts! Actually, his school's director asked if she could use him for a class project she was conducting regarding potty training. She needed a verbal kid that wouldn't mind preforming and answering questions, etc. She selected him and another sweet little girl to assist. During the class, Jackson really hammed it up and wowed the crowd. At one point the other mother mentioned, "He is very entertaining!" And I would have to agree. To us, he is always the most fun thing around. Every day Eric and I end up laughing at his antics and observations. One such moment happened on our way to the class. Unfamiliar with the area I used our GPS to guide me. She was instructing me to take a slip road here or a left over there when Jackson asked for more details. "What is she telling you, mama?" "She is giving me directions so I don't get lost." "Oh." He processe…