Just when I think things are going smoothly there is something else. Yesterday we are rushing to get dressed before the bus. I'm sitting on the couch making sure Blake has his shirt on right, pants buttoned the normal drill. I lift his shirt and to my amazement his bellybutton is brown. It reminded me of when the cord comes off a newborn. I had a what the??? moment. I know he's been bathing. In fact he spends too much time in the tub with all his toys. How is this possible that he could have so much crud in his button area???? The terrible parent feeling emerges. There is no time to deal. Bus will be here in three minutes so I send him on out with the promise he is going to scrub his bellybutton when he gets home.
All day long I'm wondering how this could have happened. I even considered googling how to remove dirty crust from little boy's belly button. I never actually did with fear that someone would run across my search history.
Afternoon arrives and we are busy getting ready for scout meeting. Once we finally are settling in at home for bath time I decide that I'm going to use alcohol to swab it first. To my amazement the swab starts turning purple. Another what the moment. At this point Blake starts giggle. I keep swabbing and the "crust" is easily coming off making the swab even more purple. My son finally tells me that it is marker. Relief floods me. He wasn't so dirty that he crusted over. I wasn't a horrible mother who didn't realize her son was filthy. Nothing to be guilty over. I was so elated I could have cared less that he used a marker to color his belly button.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Art Misunderstanding
What mom doesn't love getting artwork brought home from school. My fridge is full of things since Blake started his first day of school. I've always held onto all of my kids creative drawings through the years. I know it can lead to a bunch of clutter, however it is hard to part with the sentimental value.
This past week I open Blake's backpack to find a nice cityscape. He had included tall buildings and short ones. Each labeled things such as Fed Ex, Pizza Hut etc. I praised him on the wonderful job and placed it off to the side of the couch. It remained there until the next morning.
Morning arrives, he is waiting for the school bus. I take another good look before walking over to the fridge. I noticed one of the buildings seemed to be a church. My heart filled with joy as I was so proud that he thought to incorporate a church into his picture. I couldn't quiet make out the name however. The word Hevens was pretty self explanatory or so I thought. What was written above?
I point this out to him and ask. "what is the name of the church?"
"That's not a church. It's Heaven's Massage Parlor".
Yes, my mouth hit the floor. WHAT! A massage parlor. He's seven years old for goodness sake. How in the world does he even know what a massage parlor is much less put the words heavens and massage together. In my mind I'm searching for how to approach this topic without totally ruining his childhood innocence. Not saying that all massage parlors aren't legit but I'm guessing the same mental image might pop into your head as did mine.
I ask where he got the idea of a massage parlor. I was guessing it must be a video game. Frankly the Simpsons one had been my first guess. I do try to monitor his games and stick to the ratings but he does have a few that are rated T or 10 or above. Well, turns out it was a video game but not the Simpson's. It was the action game he had purchased over the weekend. I was so pleased that it had action but not the blood and stuff like that. Obviously I should have paid more attention to some of the buildings the good guy was interacting with or passing by on his missions.
The game mysteriously went missing while he was at school. As a mom I once again had that feeling of failure.
This past week I open Blake's backpack to find a nice cityscape. He had included tall buildings and short ones. Each labeled things such as Fed Ex, Pizza Hut etc. I praised him on the wonderful job and placed it off to the side of the couch. It remained there until the next morning.
Morning arrives, he is waiting for the school bus. I take another good look before walking over to the fridge. I noticed one of the buildings seemed to be a church. My heart filled with joy as I was so proud that he thought to incorporate a church into his picture. I couldn't quiet make out the name however. The word Hevens was pretty self explanatory or so I thought. What was written above?
I point this out to him and ask. "what is the name of the church?"
"That's not a church. It's Heaven's Massage Parlor".
Yes, my mouth hit the floor. WHAT! A massage parlor. He's seven years old for goodness sake. How in the world does he even know what a massage parlor is much less put the words heavens and massage together. In my mind I'm searching for how to approach this topic without totally ruining his childhood innocence. Not saying that all massage parlors aren't legit but I'm guessing the same mental image might pop into your head as did mine.
I ask where he got the idea of a massage parlor. I was guessing it must be a video game. Frankly the Simpsons one had been my first guess. I do try to monitor his games and stick to the ratings but he does have a few that are rated T or 10 or above. Well, turns out it was a video game but not the Simpson's. It was the action game he had purchased over the weekend. I was so pleased that it had action but not the blood and stuff like that. Obviously I should have paid more attention to some of the buildings the good guy was interacting with or passing by on his missions.
The game mysteriously went missing while he was at school. As a mom I once again had that feeling of failure.
The Flicker
Second grade has started with more issues than expected. My son Blake has never had behavior reports sent home before. Even in kindergarten he very seldom had cards pulled. We are just into October and in comes note number 3 from the teacher. After the first 2 he was warned if another came home he would loose his Xbox for a week.
My first hint something was up should have came when he went straight to sleep after school. When he awakes from his nap I go through his book bag searching for the daily homework and what do I find. Yep, the third note. According to the teacher my sweet little angel "flicked" his pencil at a little girl four feet behind him hitting her on the arm. Also noted, he was not quiet and kept other children from completing their work. I was floored. This is the same child who never got into that sort of trouble at school and now he actually hit another with a pencil. The guilt of motherhood hits me. What if he had actually really hurt the child. It could have been worse and hit her in the eye instead of her arm. I proceed to sit him down for an explanation into why he would do such a thing. His response "she got on my nerves."
I try to gather my motherly instincts to handle the situation properly. I asked the name of the little girl. Once he tells me I have to stifle a laugh. This becomes obvious to him and I feel my mother creditability slipping out the window. See we have had the same girl since Kindergarten in our class. She is a sweet little girl but as a room mother, I hate to say this about another child, but she is in fact a pain. It doesn't negate the fact that what he did was wrong. I explain to him the dangers of "flicking" pencils. He tears up and says he understands. His teacher has explained as well. As the tears fall I send him off to his room.
Did he loose his Xbox for a week? I shamefully admit, no. My understanding of how the little girl could get on his nerves overshadowed my parenting skills.
My first hint something was up should have came when he went straight to sleep after school. When he awakes from his nap I go through his book bag searching for the daily homework and what do I find. Yep, the third note. According to the teacher my sweet little angel "flicked" his pencil at a little girl four feet behind him hitting her on the arm. Also noted, he was not quiet and kept other children from completing their work. I was floored. This is the same child who never got into that sort of trouble at school and now he actually hit another with a pencil. The guilt of motherhood hits me. What if he had actually really hurt the child. It could have been worse and hit her in the eye instead of her arm. I proceed to sit him down for an explanation into why he would do such a thing. His response "she got on my nerves."
I try to gather my motherly instincts to handle the situation properly. I asked the name of the little girl. Once he tells me I have to stifle a laugh. This becomes obvious to him and I feel my mother creditability slipping out the window. See we have had the same girl since Kindergarten in our class. She is a sweet little girl but as a room mother, I hate to say this about another child, but she is in fact a pain. It doesn't negate the fact that what he did was wrong. I explain to him the dangers of "flicking" pencils. He tears up and says he understands. His teacher has explained as well. As the tears fall I send him off to his room.
Did he loose his Xbox for a week? I shamefully admit, no. My understanding of how the little girl could get on his nerves overshadowed my parenting skills.
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