Queen of Rambles

Since Erik has started talking clearly and often, life has been much easier. Instead of guessing that he wants ice cream or peaches or sharp knives, he can simply say “I want ice cream!” There is still whining, but at least I can counteract it with appropriate logic instead of flailing about, trying to give him fruit puffs and frozen waffles.

There is a down side to the talking thing as well.

Have I mentioned that this kid never shuts up? His mouth is constantly moving. I never have to tell him to “use your words” because he doesn’t whine or point or grunt. He talks. And talks. And talks and talks and talks. Then he talks some more.

Today I just about came undone.

I need to talk to grandma!

I need to talk to grandma!

I need to fly to Oregon!

I need my suitcases!

I need my L@ynee!

I need my Br@xton!

I need ice cream!

I need to talk to grandma!

I need to fly on the airplane!

Yes, he needs a lot of things. And he needs them so badly they all require exclamation points. He needs thing when I sit on the potty. He needs things when I’m on the phone. He needs things when I’m trying to pop my zits. He needs things while I’m driving. The needing never ends!

Today was particularly bad because he was really missing my family and all the rough and tumble play action that keeps things stirred up during every single waking second of life. He doesn’t get stressed out by the never ending blankets of dog hair. He doesn’t care that his cousins throw their food all over the floor and their mother never heard of cleaning it up. He doesn’t mind the stench of a liver damaged alcoholic. His head doesn’t explode from 8 back to back episodes of Walker, Texas Ranger played at a volume level that brings down planes.

I wish I could trust my family enough to just send the boy out there and let him play for a couple of weeks without me. I don’t care of he’s 2 or 12 or 22, I will never allow him to be with my family when I’m not there. He needs someone there to help him process the chaos. As he gets older he will notice that life there is very different, and not in a good way. By the time he is old enough to fly on his own (as if that will ever happen!) he will be old enough to be freaked out by the madness. Plus, it’s not a safe place. The whole time I was there I kept waiting to be murdered in my bed by my BIL or some random stranger. The doors and windows are always wide open in the summer since no one in K. Falls invests in A/C. I understand why they don’t, and I hope the dogs would give out some sort of warning if an intruder entered the house, but it still makes me very uncomfortable. I have flashbacks to the years of my youth spent planning out hiding spaces that would be good enough to evade the Communist invaders*.

But enough about that.

How about some craziness right here at home?

We go to the pool every single day. In fact, I just realized tonight that Erik hasn’t had a bath since we’ve been home. He’s been swimming every day, but the tub? Not worth the fight when he’s not dirty.

So yesterday we were at the pool and a familiar looking woman came up to the gate and started talking to the lifeguards. I know she lives in the complex because I’ve seen her walking about, but I’ve never thought anything of her. It turns out she has some sort of mental disability. She was crying because she couldn’t figure out how to get into the pool enclosure, so finally the lifeguard let her in the secret way instead of forcing her to go around.

I was sort of watching her just because there was nothing better to do. I noticed she had her hand down her shirt and I thought she was fondling her boobs. Suddenly she starts pulling something out of her shirt, and of course I am totally uncouth and had to stare. Was she going to put on some kind of show? Was she taking off her bra? What was going on?

She s-l-o-w-l-y pulled an item out of her shirt and I gasped. It was a Barbie doll! A red headed, fake Barbie doll! Nothing spectacular, but at least it entertained me for 10 seconds.

When it was finally time to leave the pool, Erik was being a pill and insisting that he wanted to swim more. We were having lasagna (can I mention my recipe again? Every time I go anywhere with my moms group, someone comes up and raves about it. I hear that the filling makes a great calzone filling. It makes a great plain pasta bake. People who hate lasagna love it. People who hate lasagna request it. It must be magic!) so I starting telling him that I needed a helper to stir the sauce and lay down the noodles. He was having none of it, so I made the general declaration to the world at large that whoever helped me stir the sauce would get candy.

MISTAKE!

The barbie lady heard me and was determined that she was going to get some candy. She jumped up and told me she would be my helper. I was sort of stunned and had no idea what to do. Poor lady! She just wanted some candy and I did say that whoever helped me stir would get some. Why shouldn’t she be my helper?

Luckily I had some extra fruit snacks in my tote, so I gave her a bag of those and whisked Erik out of there.

Lesson learned: don’t talk to the world at large when you should only be talking to your son. Someone might take you up on whatever crazy thing you’re telling your kid.

*Never let your kid watch Red Dawn.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 30th, 2008 at 8:34 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.