January 31, 2011

COLLEGE

Over breakfast…

Me: (Holding up a grapefruit) Have you ever tried a grapefruit?

Jonah: Yes. Ash-a-lee (his old babysitter) shared a grapefruit with me one time.

Me: Did you like it?

J: I did. (Pause). Mommy, how come Ash-a-lee doesn’t pick me up anymore?

Me: Because she moved and is going to college.

J: College????

Me: College. Yes, it’s a school for older kids. You go there to learn about the things you love. You study interesting things in college.

J: Study??

Me: Yes, if you love numbers then you study math... If you love books and reading you study English. Or art… You could study art and about painting and drawing. (Pause). What do you want to study at college?

J: Doctor.

Me: (Beaming) You want to study to be a doctor?!

He nods.

Me: Okay! Great, well, then at college you’ll have to study about health.

J: Health-Y?

Me: Health. Doctors make sure we’re healthy. Doctors study people’s bodies. In college (I start pointing), they study bones, and organs, and skin and-

J: Fingers?

Me: Yep, fingers...

J: (Pointing) And arms and toes and eyes and mouth and hair and place mats?

Me: Um (smiling), not place mats. But they study your nose… and your teeth… and your tummy… and..

J: And poo poo, and pee pee and fro-up?

Me: Yep. Definitely pee pee and poo poo and throw up.

He takes a bite of oatmeal.

Me: You know, I went to college.

J: Where, mommy?

Me: New York University. In New York. And Daddy went to UC Santa Barbara. Where do you want to go?

J: Um, O. K. J. V. U. I . T. C...

Me: Oh, really?

J: Yeah.

Me: I think you should go to a place called Harvard. Or Yale.

He thinks about it.

J: Um, mommy… But... Do mommy’s go to college with their children?

Me: Aw. Well, no. Not usually. Because college is for big kids. You're almost an adult when you go to college. So usually, no. You don’t go with your mommy.

J: (his eyes widen) But mommy, I don’t know how to get to college. I will need the directions.

Me: (Melting) Oh, well I will absolutely make sure you have the directions to college. I will help you get there. Don’t you worry.

J: All done! (he pushes his breakfast away).

I want to scream, "No. Never. Stay at this table like this forever." Instead:

Me: Me too! Let’s go to school!

4 comments:

Truthful Mommy said...

aww, I know. I get all misty eyed when I think of my girls growing up.Bella is 5, she started out saying she wanted to be a movie actor 9because of Eloise goes to Hollywood) then she said she wanted to be a doctor like her Uncle, now she says she wants to be a Mommy like me.I told her she can be a doctor and a MOmmy but she said, "NO, I just want to be a Mommy...like you.ANd maybe...a model." I'm sure its going to change 7000 more times before she goes to college. On the other hand, Gabs (my 3 yo) says she wants to be just like me too. Me:"oh yeah, you want to be a MOmmy?" Gabs:"NO! Me want to be a blogger!" Bwahahaha

The Twin Coach said...

So sweet! I just loved that conversation (and how great that you have it detailed so he can read it one day)! I have talks like this with my 4-year old twins sometimes. They are still at that point where Mommy is the greatest thing ever. My daughter wants to be a Mommy (and a princess) when she grows up. My son wants to live with me forever. Hmmm. On second thought, neither of those things sounds too great. I have some work to do! LOL!
Loved the post, Jennifer!
-Gina

Kate said...

I've died reading this. I'm actually sitting here dead, writing this. Amazing and funny and touching, and I totally resonate with your inner screaming fit that you want it to always be this way. Go you for raising a kid who wouldn't mind studying 'fro-up.' I love it.

Jen said...

We've been having this conversation often of late, since Jack's favorite movie is Toy Story 3 (& Andy goes to college!). He tells us he wants to go to BGSU just like mommy & daddy, and because it is by home. He also tells us we can go see him play "fwootball" for the Falcons when he's there. It would be okay, according to Jack. I died a little when he gave me permission. Oh motherhood, you're killing me.