The Sickly Children

          Last night, I tucked in, smooched, and hugged two healthy children.  At midnight, I was woken up by Caleb.  I had fallen asleep on the couch, and he had his little face right on my ear, whispering, “Mommy!  Mommy!  Are you in there?”

I saw he was covered in child barf.  For some reason, before I was totally awake, I thought he had spilt oatmeal on himself.  Within seconds, I realized it wasn’t breakfast; it was the middle of the night, and my child had puked.  I changed him, cleaned the mess, put him to bed, and told him to come get me if he started feeling sick again.  At three in the morning, I heard him shriek from the bathroom, “Mommy!”

I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, and saw he had pooped water…everywhere.  In his attempts of cleaning himself, he had managed to get his child poo on the wall, the floor, the back of the toilet, and all over himself.  Eww. 

I brought him to bed with me after that.  This morning, I woke Makayla up for school, and the first thing she said was, “I think..I think I’m…”  She gave me “the look,” the look that means, “I’m about to throw up.”  I am familiar with said look and said, “OK, it’s OK, run to the bathroom.”

She ran to the bathroom.

“Over the toilet, over the toilet,” I urged.

She put her head over the toilet.  And then barfed on my feet and the floor.  It never ceases to amaze me how a child can have a perfectly good toilet right under them and miss it completely when throwing up.

I took her temperature, saw she had a fever, and called in to her school.  I learned there was a bug going around.  Caleb woke up and both children looked at me with glassy, feverish eyes.

“I’m sorry you guys are sick,” I said, “You may watch TV and relax today.”

Caleb went to the window, looked outside at the rain and said, “It’s raining.  The moon is pulling all of this water down.”

Yesterday, he asked if the moon makes us cold since the sun makes us hot, and Makayla explained that the moon makes the waves in the ocean.

Makayla was too tired to argue with him, which is astonishing, since she is very big on correcting her brother.  I don’t see the point in correcting every single incorrect thing a four year old says. 

“Did the moon eat up the sun or sumpthin’?” Caleb asked me.

“No Bubba,” I said, “It’s just cloudy and the clouds are covering up the sun.”

“The sun must have got cold then,” Caleb said.

“What?” I asked.

“He needs the blankets, probly,” Caleb responded.

Oh.  Duh mom.

Caleb's Discovery

        Written yesterday afternoon:

  Monday through Friday has become such a routine.  The alarm goes off, I snooze it, it goes off again, and I lurk into the kids’ room to wake up Makayla, vowing to go to bed earlier from now on.  Kayla gets ready, and we wake up Bubba, who always whines for five to seven seconds about how he’s not waking up, before he leaps out of bed, demanding oatmeal and Mario Brothers.  Today was no different.  Even though Makayla’s school is a five minute walk, we always have to leave a good fifteen to twenty minutes early since you would think my children have never seen leaves, bugs, puddles, or flowers before.  Every day we see the same thing; every day, the children marvel over the same stuff.  And every day, it makes me smile.  On the walk to school, Caleb pointed to the moon and squealed, as if he was pointing out a box full of gold and screeched, “Sister!  Mommy!  Look!  It’s the moon.” 

“Yes Bubba,” Makayla said in her helpful, big sister voice, “It is the moon.  Earth only has one moon.  Some planets have a lot of moons.”

“Uh huh,” Caleb said.

We walked a little more, me gripping Caleb’s hand, Makayla stomping on bugs and picking up leaves.

“Mommy,” Caleb said.

“Yes son?” I asked.

“If the sun makes us warm then does the moon make us cold?”

“No Bubba,” I said, “The moon does not make us cold.”

“Then what does it make?” he asked.

Before I could say anything, Makayla said, “Bubba, the moon makes the waves in the ocean because it pulls on the earth a little bit and pulls the water.  That is how the moon makes waves.”

“Will the moon suck us all up?” Caleb asked.

Makayla looked at me with wide eyes.

“The moon will not suck us up,” I reassured them.

We dropped Makayla off at school, chatted with the crossing guard, who every morning mutters about “these drivers,” and started on our way back home.  Halfway home, Caleb found a pecan that was still green and stopped to pick it up.  I am very used to having to stop multiple times anytime we walk anywhere, while Caleb picks up random things or inspects bugs.

“Mommy…look,” he said, showing me his green pecan, “Are there caterpillars in it?”

“No Bubba, that is not a cocoon.  That is a seed.”

“I want to keep it forever,” he said, “I want to see what’s in it.”

When we got home, he tried to stomp it open and failed.

“Would you like for me to break it open for you?” I offered.

“No,” he said, “I would like to just play with it.”

“Do NOT put that in your mouth,” I told him, “It is not food and you could choke.  You can play with it if you promise not to put it in your mouth or throw it at the kitty.”

“I promise,” he said.

“Do you want to run in the front yard before we go in?” I asked him.

“No,” he said, “I don’t want to get an injury.”

Haha.  Two days before, while running, he had tripped and scraped his knee.

We went in and I got on with my daily stuff.

“Can I watch TV?” he asked.

“You cannot,” I told him, “Remember, you are grounded from TV today for getting into the coffee mix.”

“That’s right,” he said, “I am grounded today.  I will never get into that stuff again.”

I went on with laundry and dishes and cleaning, and since I hadn’t heard from Caleb in a while, went to check on him.  He was sitting under the kitchen table with a sharp pair of scissors, cutting into his green pecan.

“Stop!” I shouted, horrified at how close he was to cutting himself, “Bubba, put the scissors down!”

He dropped them and looked at me with a confused expression and said, “Why Mommy?  I’m seeing what’s inside of here.”

I crawled under the table, grabbed the scissors, put them up, and came back to him.

“Do not get into the scissors son.  You could have cut yourself and it would hurt.  If you want to see inside your seed, come get me and I will help you.”

“OK, Mommy,” he said, “But LOOK.”

He showed me his green pecan.  I saw he had successfully cut it in half. 

“That is neat, huh?” I said, “It’s fun to see what’s inside of seeds.  But we do not EVER put stuff like that in our mouths.  You could choke or it could make you sick.”

“I know it’s not food,” he said, “I just wanted to see what was in here.  It’s cool in this seed.”

I marveled his pecan and said, “That is very neat.  Let’s break it apart more to see the rest of it.”

“No!” he screamed, which made me jump, “I don’t want to hurt it.  It’s my friend.”

He cradled the two pieces of broken pecan, took his shoes and socks off, put one piece in one sock, the other piece in the other sock, stuffed the socks in his shoes, and said, “It’s time for them to take a nap.”

Ok then.

The "Best Day" of Caleb's Life...

So, this morning, I took the children to a birthday party at Maxey Park.  You would have thought they were going to Disney World, as excited as they were about the party.  Once we got there and I made pleasantries with all the other mommies, the kids ran off to play and I got to work with the fellow moms with some hard core gossip.  Donivan’s (the birthday boy) party was super hero themed and when his mom told me they had hired some Tech acting students to dress up like Superman and some other hero whose name I don’t remember, I nearly lost my mind with excitement because I’ll tell you what:  My little boy ADORES superheroes.  After about an hour of playing, a lady arrived and told us it was time to gather the children around a little yellow table so the superheroes could enter.  I helped herd all of the children around the table and once everyone was settled, and fellow mommies and myself were plopped on the grass around all of our offspring, the lady began an introduction.

“Who likes superheroes?” she asked the kids.  Caleb roared louder than anyone, which was his way of vocalizing that he does in fact, like superheroes.  She gave all of the kids a chance to go around and say who their favorite superhero was.  Makayla said “Super Girl,” whoever that is.  Caleb roared and bellowed, “Ironman!” while demonstrating muscles.  The lady then asked the adults and naturally, I was the first one she asked.

“Who is your favorite superhero, Mom?” she asked.

“Batman and if ninjas are also superheroes, then also Donatello.”

The next mom responded, “My husband is my favorite superhero.”

The other moms said something similar, saying their kids, their dads, their husbands, whatever.  In the end, I was the only mother who didn’t pretend that various loved ones are cooler than actual, real bonafide superheroes and I wasn’t sorry at all.  Poser mothers.

Then the lady asked the kids if they would like to meet some real life super heroes.  She told all of the kids to cheer and the superheroes would come if they cheered loud enough and I caught Caleb with his head tilted back, looking up in the sky.

“What are you doing?” I whispered to him.

“When are they gonna fly down?” he asked.

The lady pressed a button on some advanced music contraption and glorious music erupted from it, which startled me, because the entire time, I had figured the thing was some sort of recording device. 

And then Superman and some dude dressed in blue superhero garb started walking towards the group.  Superman’s cape was billowing in wind as he and the unknown hero walked superhero style up to the children.  And my son LOST HIS MIND. 

“I didn’t know superheroes were REAL!” he cried, “Mommy, LOOK!  It’s SUPERMAN!”

Superman and the unknown hero approached the group, gave some enthusiastic greetings, and started telling everyone what a fun day we would all be having.  Caleb’s eyes were huge and his mouth was wide open and said, “Mommy?  Can he FLY?”

“I’m sure he can son,” I told him.

Superman explained his alien situation and how he’s allergic to kryptonite and then fell to his knees, gasping for breath, and his friend said, “Oh no!  There is kryptonite over there!  We must pick it up and put it in a bucket and get it away from Superman!”

“I’m so…weak,” Superman gasped, and Caleb let out a cry of horror.

“Oh my GOD!” he screamed, “Superman!  Are you OK Superman?  Mommy is he dead?”

I was trying to comfort and shush him while moms and the other super hero lined the kids up, gave the children special tongs, and instructed them to pick up green jewel like things off the grass (the kryptonite) and put it in a bucket with the tongs.

“Once the kryptonite is in the bucket, Superman will be strong again!” the unknown hero said.

Caleb was having a fit.

“Save him, Mommy!  We have to save him!”

“Bubba, do you see how the kids are picking up that green stuff and putting it in the bucket?  Once all that green stuff is away from Superman, he will be all better.”

Before I could do anything, Caleb bolted from his place in line, ran to the green jewels, and started hurling them as far as his little arms could throw. 

“I’ll save you Superman!” he shrieked.  Makayla, who thought the green jewels were actual poison, became hysterical.

“Don’t touch it with your hands Bubba!” I heard her scream, as I went to retrieve Caleb, “Bubba it will KILL you!  It’s poison!”

We had to put the game on hold while the other moms laughed too hysterically to take pictures and the other superhero and I retrieved the stones Caleb had hurled away.

“It’s just a game, Bubba,” I said, “It’s just for fun.  Wait your turn in line and then see how fast you can pick up the green jewels and put them in the bucket.” 

I looked back at Superman and saw him shaking with laughter and Donivan’s mom was wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard.  At least when my kids ruin a birthday party game and make a scene, it’s somewhat humorous.

After Superman’s strength was back, Caleb walked up to him and said, “Did you die?  Did you see my Uncle Shoni?”

Superman played it off well and said, “No sir, young man.  You and your friends saved me.”

“Well then can you pick me up and let’s go fly, Superman?” Caleb asked as he extended his arms.

“I cannot fly today because it is Donivan’s birthday and I promised him I would stay here,” Superman said.

“Then will you pick me up anyway?” Caleb asked.

Superman obliged and tossed Caleb in the air a few times to make him, “fly.”

Not wanting the birthday boy to have his Superman hogged by my son, I said, “Let’s let Donivan play with Superman for now, Bubba.  Come on and let’s go play the other games.”

“Hey Superman,” Caleb said as Superman put him down, “I don’t want to play those games, Superman.  I want to play with you.  Want to go see my house, Superman?”

“I promise, I will play with you after the games are done,” Superman said, “I will play with all of the kids after cake, on the playground.”  Then Superman bent down, and said to Caleb softly, “I promise I will play with you but it is Donivan’s birthday and since it is his special day, we have to see what Donivan wants to do.  But I promise, I will play with you too.”

I was impressed by this and confused as to why, even after I basically pulled Caleb off Superman, Donivan wanted nothing to do with the Superheroes but was terrified of them.  I felt less guilty about Caleb being so adamant about being best friends with Superman.  The entire party, through games, cake, and presents, Caleb followed Superman around.  He asked to wear his cape.  He asked if he could come live with us.  He wanted to know where he got his “cool underwear.”  I kept trying to pry him off of Superman but Donivan’s mom eventually said, “You might as well let him, Jess.  Donivan is terrified of him and after what I paid, I want at least someone to get some enjoyment out of this.”

So Superman pushed Caleb on the swings, caught him when he went down slides, and ran around the playground with him.  Once Donivan and the other kids saw Superman and Caleb having such a blast, they started warming up and Superman organized a game of hide and seek.  The mothers and I sat on the bench and marveled at his muscles.  At the end of the party, as we walked to the car, Caleb looked up at me and said, “This was the bestet day of my whole entire life, Mommy.”

I could understand that statement because even though I am twenty four and not four, if Batman or Donatello was pushing me on swings and playing chase and hide and seek with me, I would feel the EXACT same way.