CONVERSATIONS OF MAY...

6am.  A tap on my shoulder...

Jonah: Mommy...

Me: Yes...?

J: I'm up.

Me: I see.

J: Mommy?

Me: Yes...?

J: I had a very bad dream.

Me: I'm so sorry to hear that.

J: Mommy?

Me: Yes...?

J: Please don't be mad at me... but in my dream... I punched (my cousin).

Me: Wow, that does sound like a bad dream.

J: Are you mad at me?

Me: No, honey. It was just a dream.

J:... Because you know I'd never punch my cousin, right?

Me: I know you'd never punch anyone.

A few days later... 6am again... (I mean, seriously). Michelle Obama in a PSA on PBS.

Me: Do you know who that is?

J: No, who?

Me: That's The First Lady of the United States. That's President Obama's wife. They call her "The First Lady."

J: She was the first lady... EVER?!!!

Me: Not exactly...

I love May. 

ATTACHMENT PARENTING

When Jonah was a baby, I read a lot of books on "Attachment Parenting...."

I think I missed the chapter about how to handle a child literally attaching themselves to you... when you're trying to make lunch, or get dressed...

... it was like an appendage... that I had no choice but to drag with me wherever I went....

I missed that part on Attachment Parenting. Especially the part where said child knows it's funny and knows you kind of think it's funny too.

PARENTING: I COULD LEARN A THING OR TWO...

No matter how hard I try, my mornings with Baby-Ko are usually a little harried... especially when he wakes up at 5:36am ready to play doctor. (Oh, have I mentioned he likes to pretend that he works at a "Hop-tical" now?) Despite my attempts to have everything from food, to clothes to morning rituals laid out and planned ahead, there is one thing I have zero control over: his mood.

This morning: He. Was. In. A. Mood.

Gave him the play dough (reserved for his table/ but played with on the couch).
Gave him a lollipop (reserved for dinner/ but given before breakfast).
Gave him a basket of my old makeup (reserved for the bathroom/ but deposited somewhere I hope doesn't stain).

"What is wrong, Baby-Ko? I have to get ready and you have to go to school..."
"No. I don't want toooooooo," he whimpered.
"I know, I wish I could stay home today, but I can't. I have to go to work. I have to get ready my love."
"Pick MY up," he said.
"Pick you up? Okay..." I picked him up. He rested his head on my shoulder. "I have to get ready baby, I'm so sorry," I whispered.
"Mommy, BUH-LAX."
"Huh?"
"I want mommy buh-Lax. On the couch," he said matter-of-factly.
"You want mommy....? To what?"
"BUH. LAX. On the couch!" he said pointing.
I paused. What the eff is Buh-lax. A light bulb went off:
"You want mommy to RELAX????"
"Yeaaaaaaah," he said nuzzling in to my chest. "On the couch. Mommy cuddle."
I pause. Take it in. Remember that in 10 years, I will be yearning to Buh-Lax with him.
"Okay, baby. For a few minutes."
"Yeahhhhhh...."

For the next 5 minutes, we sat closely and stared into space. The traffic, the morning meetings, the coffee that was not yet in my system... It all could wait. We. Were. Buh-Laxing...

Can't wait to see what life lesson my very own parenting expert has in store for me tomorrow...