My Scottness Monster

Child protective services showed up at our house. Only Tommy was home, but at 12 years old, we were pretty sure we were on solid legal ground leaving him there for a few hours. The worker told Tommy she "just wanted to know the truth", which left Tommy somewhat flummoxed. "Sure!" he replied.

While Erik and I counted down our frontmost marginal parenting decisions of the past few weeks (the list was surprisingly long and varied...an impressive array of missteps and mistakes), he made an appointment for the worker to come back and talk to him and the boys, both alone and separate. I was working, and although I was curious....I wasn't too worried. Turned out it was about Scotty, and the alarm had to have been sounded by summer camp the week before.

When the worker showed up, she explained that Scotty had spilled some water at camp and severely over reacted. Crying, scared, etc. When the camp counselor questioned him, and tried to reassure him that this was not a tragedy, Scotty burst out with, "I get hit! My brother gets hit! My mom gets hit!" Which, really, is only tragically, hilariously funny because none of those things is true. Erik literally laughed when she told him.

"He's just talking. [did not add: out his ass] You'll understand when you meet him." He left the room and went to play guitar while she talked to the kids. He left the door open and could hear her laughing. "Scotty, are you afraid of anything?" Scotty:  "Yes! Have you seen the big yellow tractor at Yolore's house!" 

File marked "unfounded" complaint.

It's hard to explain Scotty. He's a very quirky, unusual kid. But if you meet him...well, no explanation needed. :D He has an insane vocabulary, that he uses totally appropriately. Example: We were at the top of the ferris wheel, overlooking the fair. What six year old wouldn't say "I'm looking for Aunt Karen"? Scotty:  "I'm trying to locate Karen." When he sees a red mini van: "That's a version of your car, just a different color." When he's done: "Set a course for home." (Trekies unite!) 

He practices Extreme Walking and will move furniture all over the house so he can bounce and twist and flip his way through without ever touching the floor. He exhibits mild (in some cases) to moderate (in most cases) OCD behaviors. My brother has called him Monk, after the slightly obsessed tv character, since Scotty was two years old.

He's obsessed with death and dying, and earnestly needs me to reassure him, not occasionally, that human beings can, in fact, live to be 100. But I always gently add, "Scotty...everybody dies. If you live, you have to die. It's nothing to be afraid of. The important thing is to love each other with all the days we're given." I always tell him this while I hold his hand.  Yet, when a small mouse (meant to be eaten by the classroom snake) passed away before he could be swallowed, Scotty cried over his cage and told me it was "his destiny" to use his "energies" to help the dead mouse. He shut his eyes tight and said "I will give some of my life, so he can live." Sometimes, all a mama can do is hug a boy tight and whisper "shhhh" in his ear.

My mom tells me he's indulged and thinks he's the way he is because somehow, he's spoiled? I still don't understand it, actually. He is who he is; marvelously, gloriously, impossibly different Scotty, and very often, I don't know what to say or do with him...but I love him even when I can't understand him, and I try hard not to be impatient with his quirky ways, even when he's so different from me I don't know how to start. He hates change. The first day of anything causes such anxiety and panic in him that he slowly decombusts over his morning routine, until finally he's rolled in a ball, crying, and whispering, "Nobody loves me." I curl myself around him and hug him...."Mama loves you, Scotty. Mama knows this: you get so nervous on the first day! But mama also knows this: you are so happy and smart and kind...this day is going to be a great day. And I'm going to hold your hand, and you're going to get through this part, because there's a lot of fun waiting for you on the other side. I'm here to remind you....it's always this hard for you....but only at first."

Lately, I've noticed that he queues up miscellaneous physical ailments. A jammed finger, a splinter, a stubbed toe....I think he feels it's acceptable to cry over these things, instead of how he's feeling. When he does this lately, I hug him and rock him and tell him..."Scotty, it's normal to feel this way. It's okay to cry when you're feeling scared or lonely or sad or angry." Scotty: "But my finger mommy...it's my finger!" I know, honey. I know.

I'm so afraid of disappointing him. What if he needs something I do not have? I think...there are times, thinking about my responsibilities as his mom, when I need somebody to hug me tight and whisper "shhh" in my ear. Here's what I know: I love him. I love my children. My story didn't even exist until theirs started.

I hope that's enough.

Summerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I have had the busiest few weeks...in the very laziest of ways. I don't know how else to describe it! My days are full of gardening, hanging out with my boys, cooking, doing endless mind-numbing chores around my (thankfully) small and manageable home, and working. Yes, working. Teachers typically work all summer. But, here's the beauty of summer work: we only work on what we WANT to work on. So summer is a time of creativity, reflection, and productive output the likes of which you cannot fathom from the whirlwind that is our gig from September to June. I am having a blast and falling in love with all things classroom once again. Soon enough the boys head off during the days for their beloved summer camp, and I'll be giving two one-week workshops at the same time. So scheduling and rushing and real work looms ahead...but for now, I'm quietly and happily puttering around in this Land of Nod between the past and the future.

A few pics from our short, oh-so-sweet romp at DisneyLand. Every year we go, and every year it is better than the last year. This time, we met my brother's kids and his ex-wife for a day and we had a blast. Can't wait to see them in a couple of weeks.

 (fyi: that IS a space mountain astronaut t-shirt my honey is wearing. LOVE)

 The new CarsLand at California Adventure is sooooo gooooood! The new Radiator Springs ride is AWESOME!!!!!!!  

Do you want to hear about how we got there at 7am, for a park that opens at 8am, to stand in line for a fast pass that opened at 9am, so that we could get on a ride that didn't even open until 11am? And do you want to hear about how, when I picked up my family set of fast passes at 9:15am, they were already for a return ride between 3:15 and 4:15? Do you want to hear about how, when I met up with the rest of my family and we strolled by that very fast pass outlet not 30 minutes later....the entire ride had 'sold out' of fast passes for the rest of the day and night? The hapless folks who didn't leave their hotels at 6:30 am to get tickets (haha! #winning! wait.) had to wait 2 hours and 10 minutes in the standby line. Because of a fluke, our kids got to ride twice (and we each rode once) during the designated hour only using two of our four fast passes (one of the kids we traveled with that day had a pretty severe disability, and had a special pass that we all got to use). So we were able to gift two of our fast passes to a man and his son, as they took their positions at the end of that line.

 Scotty was all arrrrrgh matey! on this trip. He bought (I bought him) one of those scopes after one of our many turns on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride (don't mind if we do go again, son, it is one of my favorites too!) and he was checking to see when the "pirate ship" was coming. It's actually their "Columbia" ship ride, but try telling him it wasn't a pirate ship.

Being a pirate is hard, lonely work. But well worth the sacrifices.

Fair

I love the fair! I even love the rides. We are at DisneyLand this week, and we take both our boys on every single ride....Space Mountain, Thunder Mountain Railroad, Matterhorn, Splash Mountain, Pirates....it just doesn't matter. We encourage the last car, the first car, HANDS UP EVERYONE, and I never bat an eye.

But there's something about a fair ride, isn't there? The "thrill" of these "thrill rides" comes from getting a close up look at the carnies who are responsible for transporting, constructing, and operating these creaky, broke-ass monstrosities. The excitement comes from not knowing if this thing is going to shake apart completely, hurling you across the park.

Good times.

Canoed

I had Back to School Night last night. And today I'm yarg. (yawn + argh = yarg)

But! It was back in July when we took the boys on our first big canoeing adventure! We headed up to Strawberry and spent a few days on a private lake (let's call it a pond) and also went to Bardsley Reservoir. No phones. No computers. No television. Best cheeseburger on the face of the planet at the snack shack near Pinecrest Lake. Soft serve ice cream for breakfast. Three fights over how to steer the canoe. Sore shoulders for three weeks.  Heaven on earth, really.

 Just noticed that Thing Two is doing The Robot in this picture. Dying laughing over here, really.

 You can't see her in this picture, but puppy Lego is in Scotty's lap here. She loved canoeing!

 I remember laying out in the sun to get a tan in high school. I don't remember a six year old laying on me when I did,

Learned (a bit late) that our canoe anchoring system was not sufficient for the ride home. (not to worry, we made it! and so did our 52 pound, 17 foot, canoe!) Was reminded that I can always call my daddy when I need help. Haven't had to do that for awhile, but I had such a familiar rush of well-being when I looked at Erik, after helplessly tiptoeing down blocked off side roads still an hour and a half from home (a 3 hour drive already creeping up on 4 hours and no end in sight), and said, "Let's call my dad. He'll know what to do." And he did. Love him. When he caught up with us on the backroads leading to the Altamont Pass, with enough rope to secure a navy fleet, he found me giggling helplessly at the absurdity of chasing our foam mounts down the road, through barbed wire fences, and across farmers' fields, as they rolled away like chicklets from our swaying and bobbing canoe.

He shook his head (not without affection) and said, "You're so much like your mother." I'm pretty sure I saw Erik shudder.

What they do to my heart....

I don't have time to deal with my camera card, but the following is worth noting from the weekend:

1.  Scotty came into my room, and asked me, "Do you want something to drink?"  I really wasn't thirsty, but I've learned that it's best to just say, "Yes, please!" to him when he's offering food or drink.  He likes to be busy in the kitchen, and getting a cup of milk or apple juice is so pleasing to him that he can't let it go.

I heard him bumping around in the kitchen, then heard a small splash as something spilled on the floor.  A minute later, he showed up with a glass of red wine, in a goblet and all!  ha! 

2.  Erik's dad passed away just over two years ago now, and Scotty asks him about "his dad" often.  Scotty and Erik are extremely close.  When he senses that Erik is feeling sad, he tells him, "I know you're missing your daddy.  I'll be your daddy, okay?  And you can be my daddy.  Then we both have a daddy."  

Honestly, sometimes?  It's just too much.

Beam Me Up, Scotty

Did you know that I named Scotty?  It's a fact that I had no say in Tommy's name. We were told, after a detailed ultrasound during the sixth month of my pregnancy, that we were having a girl.  We stopped discussing boy names at all, at that point, which was a total blessing because it reduced name-related-quarreling-and-eye-rolling by 50%.  (It's almost impossible to name a child if you're a teacher...just about every name, after 12 years or so, is less than six degrees of separation from some fool who ruined the name for you.  Ruined it, I say!)

So when Tommy was born, we were in total shock...for, like, 15 seconds. In those 15 seconds, Erik was all, "His name is Thomas!" and I was all, "Can I have a popsicle?" and then we took him home.  I had no idea that Erik had a card up his sleeve with a boy name on it, but it's worked out.  So far.

So it was that I was laid in charge of Scotty's name.  Amends needed to be made.  Because of the timing and circumstances of his birth (before noon, speedy, nearly violent delivery with not even an aspirin to keep me company),  I ended up with TWO WHOLE NIGHTS in a hospital, with just me and My Monster.  I was really getting to know him and I tried on dozens of names during that spell.  Names that almost stuck?  Waylon (after Waylon Jennings) and Zero (after my favorite number).  I stand by "Waylon" to this day.  That's just a good name.  Zero was a longshot.

We were needing to (wanting to) (dying to) check out, and Erik did not want to take him home without a name.  He swore to me that he didn't care what the name was, just name him and let's go, I'll pull the car around...that was his attitude.  So, I took a nap, I woke up, and I said, "His name is going to be Scott.  Scotty."  I expected a bit of resistance but he cheerily said, "I'll get your bag; we're out of here!"

I found out much later that Erik was totally fine with the name because in his mind, Scotty is named after Lt. Cmdr. Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer and Second Officer of the Starship Enterprise.  Erik is a HUGE Star Trek fan. He's not flashy about it...you'll never catch him speaking a Klingon dialect or wielding a Romulan disruptor in full headdress at a convention.  He's a subtle fan; a ring tone set to mimic a communicator, oblique references to living room recliner being the captain's chair on the bridge, constant references to a particular episode (by title and season/episode number) to something that just happened in every day life, you know...nerdsville.  

Scotty is also a huge fan.  I wrote about it way back here (2009!?).  When Scotty was two, he would yell "Khhhhaaaaaannnn!!!!!" and wave his fists over his head, a tribute to the ending of Star Trek II.  His very first theater movie?  Star Trek (2009).  He saw it three times...in the theater.  He's watched the entire original series, with Erik, cuddled up on the couch.  He can quote it!

So, man, that's just about the longest way I can think of to say this:  how cute was it when he and I "played" the popular family game, Blokus? It involves a lot of strategy, and some rule-following, so actually playing the game with Scotty is out of the question.  (He's too young to get 'strategy' and too stubborn to follow 'rules'.)  But he LOVES when he and I sit at the table, and we play it kind of like a puzzle, fitting all the pieces of one color together as closely as we can, before moving on to a new color.

He gets so excited when it's all put together!  And now I understand why:

He scurried into Erik's music room, and immediately started punching the board and making 'boop" noises...he thinks it's the computer on the bridge!

 

72 Hours

I'm a sunny day kind of gal...for reals. In fact, Erik's mom gave me one of those light boxes for Christmas. It's called "the mood improver". Ahem. To her credit, she quickly pointed out that I could also put somebody else in front of it. Nice save.

Having said that, I'm always pleasantly surprised at how very much you can find to do inside when a stormy, long weekend lands in your lap. Things like, cleaning up and organizing a book shelf and a desk in your bedroom...

You're just going to have to trust me on this one; big improvement!

Or, you could spend some time practicing an art...

 

In pajamas you put on Friday night...and never took off!

Or meeting a new friend...

Or watching (two-thirds of) a favorite trilogy...

And then faithfully recreating the battle at Helm's Deep...

How about a hair cut for your puppy?

It was such a lovely, blustery, Winnie-the-Pooh kind of weekend, which cleared up just enough for a before-dinner stroll over at my mom's house on Sunday night.  The rest of the weekend was perfectly spent with my favorite boys.

Now all I need is a sunny, warm, spring-like weekend so I can attack the yards and get out on the lake with our new canoe. I know that's coming, but if we get another stormy weekend...or two...before that, I won't be too sad!

Show Time

You can't take away his dignity.

(Scotty's pre-K class is getting ready for their June performance, 

and we can't get enough of this!)

Babysitting

My brother and my mom went to LA, and we watched my brother's puppy, Wicket.  Or, as Scotty calls her, "Biscuit!" Unless he's calling her "Bubble Gum!"  I have no idea.

They're sisters, I think I've mentioned, and they looked like fuzzy little bookends.  

Fuzzy, adorable, bookends.  These are easily the most ridiculous looking animals I've ever seen.  There are times when you have no idea which end you're looking at!  

The boys were so happy to each have a pup for our walk!

 Of course, even without the squabbles of who gets to hold the leash that were miraculously resolved with two leashes attached to two pups, we still had the non-stop discussion about what "walking" a dog means.  Like, let it actually, you know, walk.

Please, for the love of all that is good, let the animals walk.  Four legs.  They can do it!

We loved our little visitor!  But we REALLY love our pup.

Have I mentioned her name?  What we FINALLY landed on, after all the great suggestions?

Lego.

Seriously.

First!

While Tommy's baseball season has been underway for several weeks now, Scotty's very first T-Ball practice was this Saturday.  (In an unprecedented stroke of luck, the boys have the EXACT same practice schedule this season, and the practices are all at the same field!  SHUT.  UP.)

He was so excited to wear all his new fancy equipment ~ for about 5 whole minutes!

What's that son?  You'd like me to hold your helmet?

Questions from the morning:

"Does my teacher know I have baseball today?"
"Is Uncle Moose going to be my coach?"
"Can I be on Tommy's team?"

 We're calling this his "star maker move".  Tommy never played at this age (5); he started baseball during "coach pitch" (I think he was 8!) so I was kind of shocked at how...incompetent...the really young ones seemed.  He would literally stand like this, frozen and planted, and wait for a ball to plop into his glove!  And you know what?  It actually worked a few times!

 Coach Dylan:  "Okay, where is first base?"  I mean, we're talking basics! 

He loved it!

Growth Spurts

Posting has been light, I realize, but look at this mug!  So much cuteness, I'm telling you.

I'm working on a couple of big projects, that I'm rather liking, and that's taking up some of my time (I'll share soon, though!) and there's another project, called my kids that's also brewing.  We seem to be hitting some growing pains around here.  It happens, but this one seems particularly thorny! 

Tommy seems to be moving from Little Boy to Official Tween, and the emotional ups and downs have really taken us by surprise.  Erik and I have been (more than at any other time in our parenting 'careers') spending a lot of time trying to figure out what exactly he needs to make this transition.  I mean, he's making it, like it or not, but we'd sure love to smooth things out for all concerned.  And so far...that ain't happening.  We're interested in your thoughts on this, by the way, no suggestion is too crazy.

So, I'll be here.  Working on my projects, paying closest attention to My Boys, trying to stay warm, and I'll see ya in a few days. xoxo

Taking Suggestions

We added to our family this weekend, and now we have this to deal with:

She's pretty dang funny.  I don't care for an overly-confident dog, myself.  I like my dog's slightly insecure.  This one's self-esteem is fully intact, however, as evidenced by her proud and regal stature.  There's only room for one top-dog in this casa, my friend, so stand down.

Fortunately, she has personality to spare and she seems very bright.  It's the little things, you know?  I put a harness and collar on her, then hooked up a leash and took her for a spin in the court.  I've had dogs who lay down and make you drag them under similar circumstances, but she got right with the program.  She also had the good sense to immediately remove the plaid sweater I was going to make her wear.  So I have hope for her.

I can't believe we finally got another dog.  We loved our Howard so much, and when we lost him (over two years ago now) I thought I'd NEVER get another one.  We've always had big, working, busy dogs, but I insisted that we have a totally different experience this time.  A shitzu-toy poodle mix seems about as far from Australian Shepherd as you can get.  It barely seems like the same species, and I've never owned a small dog in my life.  In fact, I'd probably still be dogless, except my brother found these and got the sister, then Erik shocked me by approving the purchase.

She loves to play fetch.  Another point in her favor.  We got her situated with a crate today, so forget about sleeping in the bed every night, chump.  Now we just need a name.  We usually give our pets human names, because we think it's funny to have a goldfish named Keith, a dog named Howard, or a cat named Tim.  For some reason, my family has lost its collective minds with this one, though.  Without your intervention I'm going to be stuck with Brain (Scotty's choice, who is an Inspector Gadget fan) or Tron II (Erik's choice, who is an ass) or Sparky (Tommy's choice, who seems unconcerned that our new dog is a girl and might want a less gender-ambiguous name).  The phone lines are open, and we clearly need a voice of reason.