Growth and Death

Hans started speaking when he was 3 and half years old. Last year, when he started school in JK, his teacher was concerned about his learning abilities. I was very emotional during that period...it was as if I had failed him in some way. A resource teacher was brought in who spent time with Hans and concluded that there is nothing to be concerned about!

This kid has barely been talking for 2 years and he can’t seem to stop talking…even when someone is talking, he jumps in like time is running out and he has the most urgent message to deliver! On one hand, I remind him that he needs to wait his turn to speak or at least interrupt appropriately; and on the other hand, I am so grateful for his enthusiasm to communicate.

About a year and half ago, Craigley’s brother suddenly died from a heart attack. He was only 46 at that time and since it was so unexpected, it came as a shock to the family. We communicated this sad news to ASid; however we decided that Hans who was not quite 4 at that time was too young to understand death and its implications. In spite of it, a few days later, Hans asked me about the attack!

“Momley! Who attacked Uncle Oobie?”

“No one attacked him!”

“Yes, I know. I do. His heart attacked him!”

Even as I was trying to understand what was happening…

“Why did his heart attack him?”

I was trying to come up with some explanation and make some sense.

“Yes! His heart attacked him. He ate too much junk food I think!”

I was hoping that should be enough.

“So he passed away? Where?”

“I don’t know”

“I think I won’t eat junk food…maybe a little bit. OK Momley?”

“Yes! You can eat a little bit of junk food. That’s OK!”

Even though I did not use the word “die”, I am sure Hans knew the word at that point in time. He may not have known what it entailed. Later on, he actually used the word in a couple of conversations. Even then, he may not have understood what it meant.

This is a child who goes around declaring: “I am never going to grow up! I want to grow down!”

What does he really understand since he asks several contradictory questions as well!

“When I grow up and have a wife and I am living in this house…will you still live with us Momley?”

“Well…that depends on your wife! She may not want Momley to live with you…”

“Then I don’t want the wife!”

“It is OK. See, how Momley and Daddy don’t live with their parents! You can still have a wife!”

“No!”

Most recently, Hans woke up crying profusely.

“Momley, I don’t want you to die!”

“I am not dying. I am right here!”

“But you will. I know.”

“Who told you?”

“I know.”

“You know what? Momley has a very special job of taking care of you. So, she can’t die!”

“What about ASid and Daddy?”

“They won’t die as well. Now, you stop crying!”

My friend Smoggy told me to never lie to my children. He told me to be honest about everything except for Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy…perhaps I can add Death to the list…

 

Forty and F*rty

Seriously, there is no correlation between turning 40 and the gas we let go on a daily basis! Having said that, I would first like to wish my friend, KPF, a happy birthday. He is 40 tomorrow. Every birthday of his makes me happy and hopeful. This special birthday, I wish to give him the gift of laughter…even if he gets one laugh out of this post, mission accomplished! If not, ASid and Hans will definitely have fun reading it someday. So, here goes…

I used to live in a country where the culture is to definitely ignore any gases people pass. No one draws attention to the fact by saying “Excuse Me”! If one didn’t mention it, chances are…it didn’t happen! Even the most sensitive ears and noses would support this notion by ignoring the sound effects or bearing with the discomfort of an unwanted invasion of the senses. Hmmm, life was so simple!

F*rt was like the other 4 letter F word; I never heard it mentioned except by a couple of frustrated mothers who would reprimand their tattle tale telling children to “not report every f*rt and cough they hear”! Even then, it was shocking to hear such language from a mother’s mouth. Perhaps it was around that time, I made a subconscious pact with myself to never ever swear. My only indulgence is “damn it Jim!” and I have said that on many an occasion. Thank you Star Trek for little earthly indiscretions!

So, why bring up the topic of f*rting on my friend’s birthday? Because KPF was the first one (in my life) to ever discuss it in a conversation much to my distress at that time. He talked about it very casually. If I remember correctly, it was an elderly gentleman (perhaps a grandfather) who would let go of a f*rt and then exclaim loudly that he did not hear it! It got a lot of laughs from our other friends and I was just in awe of this strange freedom to talk about an uncontrollable human urge in such a casual manner.

A few years later, I was helping a Grade 3 teacher in her classroom and had my second encounter with that strange freedom. A boy in the class suddenly exclaimed that someone f*rted and a bunch of boys exploded in laughter. There were a few minutes of chaos before the teacher got them to quiet down. I took it upon myself to investigate this phenomenon (of f*rts generating all sorts of amusement for various age groups) … what’s so funny? In my quest, I stumbled upon a book called The Gas We Pass. It is a brilliant little book that demystifies a f*rt in a logical manner. I bought that book for ASid. He was 3 at that time and I couldn’t imagine him disrupting a classroom that way ever!

Between those 2 episodes, I got married. Craigley and I had mostly a long distance relationship and really did not spend a lot of time together. I guess he held on to his gas till we were safely married and I made the commitment to move to the west coast to be with him. The moment we got off the plane, collected our baggage and got outside…it was (in my 39 years of experience) the single most powerful gas attack with spectacular sound effects that lasted a few seconds. Even as I stood shocked and speechless, Craigley cheerfully declared, “That felt good!”

Since that moment, there has been no dearth of such special sound effects. We have discussed it a few times and I did let Craigley know that it bothers me that when I am so considerate and delicate about this gaseous matter, he is so out there! The first few times, he was genuinely shocked. He reminded me that I grew up with a brother and I should not be so bothered by it. Perhaps my brother who grew up with a sister is more sensitive than Craigley who is the youngest of 3 brothers! Discussions turned into arguments and then, I gave up. For better or for worse…that’s what it’s all about!

Craigley does not give up so easily. One fine day, he declared that he heard me f*rt in my sleep. It was his “A-Ha-I-Gotcha” moment. Seriously? I was sleeping!! Seriously? How childish!! After that gleeful accusation from my husband, I guess I stopped complaining and eventually started ignoring any related or unrelated sounds. However, the discussions and arguments came back a few years later. Apparently, ASid lets go off these soundless and yet potent gases while we are in the car. For whatever reason, I am oblivious to these episodes. I can’t hear anything or smell anything. It is Craigley’s theory that this is ASid’s way of taking revenge on his father; it is almost a conspiracy as ASid meticulously plans these moments when we are on the highway and his dad can’t escape from his wrath?! Seriously?

The gassy saga continued as Hans started JK last year. His teacher brought to my notice that he took immense delight in uttering “washroom words” in the classroom. They ranged from p** (both varieties), b*m, to the dreaded f*rt! I couldn’t believe that it was my own son who was disrupting the classroom on a daily basis. He thought it was funny and I guess he loved the attention it got him. In fact, he got his older brother on the bandwagon as well. It was as if ASid missed out on these landmark moments in his own life and enjoyed the laughter with Hans. Craigley thought it was quite harmless till he realized that Hans is turning into a regular class clown…sometimes parents are haunted by their own childhood exploits and would never want their children to follow in their footsteps! Together, we got Hans to understand that there is an appropriate time and place to use “washroom words” and any inappropriate usage is unacceptable. We got through to him…

Still, there are days when I hear a forbidden word whispered followed by a muffled giggle and see twinkling eyes full of mischief. Did she hear it? Did I get away with it? Usually, I feign ignorance and let it go. This walk down memory lane should end here; however, I have just one more incident to share. It happened one afternoon during the summer holidays. I was on the couch with Hans. He was watching some LEGO Ninjago episode on the PlayBook and I was reading some magazine. All of a sudden, I felt this intense urge to let go of some gas; usually, I would hold on to it till an appropriate time. I looked around and there was only Hans and he was very absorbed. I figured I could take a chance and I did. Barely a second later, my 5 year old solemnly says, “Momley, you f*rted!” There was no giggling; he didn’t even look up from his PlayBook…it was just a matter-of-fact statement. I immediately hastened to say, “Excuse me!”

Note: Dear K, this was perhaps the most challenging post I ever wrote. I seriously consider myself one of the most boring people in the world with absolutely NO sense of humour! Even now, I cannot say the word f*rt; I have to spell it out! Given that, this has truly been a difficult trek through untrodden territory. I must say I got to finally enjoy that strange freedom. Thank you. You have a wonderful day.

 

Rescue Mission Update

It has been a couple of months since I set out to rescue myself! I did a course in July, have updated my resume and created an account in LinkedIn. I have an “agent” on a website that sends me daily updates of potential jobs that are suitable for me. I am doing everything I can…I think! Yet, nothing has surfaced…

A few days ago, Craigley inquired about my progress. Usually I am the one who communicates every itty bitty detail of every single day to Craigley, and his question really bothered me. If I had something to share, wouldn’t he know it already? What is the purpose behind his inquiry? Perhaps he is tired of being the sole bread winner and can’t wait for me to contribute “usefully”? Perhaps he doesn’t trust me to get out there and get that job? It has been 12 years and several hours…there are days even I don’t believe in myself!

The reality is that in this day and age, it is quite challenging to find employment. Even if Craigley wished to change his current job, he would most likely need a few weeks himself in spite of all his work experience. A stay-at-home mom who is looking to go back into the work force needs time as well. More than time, I believe she needs understanding. It is an incredibly rough time emotionally and mentally. It is quite easy for someone to say that I made the choice to be stay-at-home and now I am crying the blues! That’s OK. When I did make that choice, I wasn’t aware of the length of time involved and I wasn’t aware of other related factors. If I am writing about my experience, it is not to solicit sympathy…it is for another stay-at-home mom who may visit unexpectedly and she should know that she is not alone.

 

Advice from the Movies

A new school year...again!

ASid is starting Junior High School! I already had a good cry :) I watched Cheaper by the Dozen 2 over the weekend quite unintentionally and I am glad I did. I really related to what Bonnie Hunt’s character says at the very end - letting go is the hardest thing to do! I also liked the advice - Settle with the Past; Engage in the Present and Believe in the Future.

I do believe in the Future. In fact, I accurately predicted what would happen this morning…the first day of school. Hans bawled like he was robbed of all his favourite toys as I said bye to him. ASid didn’t look back at all once he got to school…all the fears from reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid seemed to have disappeared as he saw some of his friends! As much as I was happy, I still had to fight back some tears from escaping!