|
|
Thursday, April 27, 2006Birthday Kiss
 I'm a sucker for this little guy.It's funny. When Jonathan was seven, he was my "big guy;" the oldest of four. Spencer, at seven, is my "little guy." There is quite a bit of truth to the "baby of the family" thing. I call him "Big Dude" and "Pirate Boy." I praise him for having given up his thumb and blankie two weeks before his seventh birthday -- cold turkey. (No visible withdrawal symptoms, either.) Still, he just seems so...little. He's got way too much power for a person his size, too. And he knows it. I may have sermonized for twenty minutes straight about my need for no interruptions during the afternoon so that I can Finish That Chapter. But when Spencer comes creeping through my office door an hour later and climbs up into my chair, sliding into the space behind my back -- he knows I'm a goner. Especially when he starts rubbing my back with his little hands. "You are sooooooo sweet," he says in his high, pre-testoneronic voice. "You are my precious Wawwy." That's what he calls me. Wawwy. It's supposed to be "Mommy" with the M's turned upside-down; except, he spells it with an "a." Would you be able to say "no" to a little kid who is rubbing your back and calling you "Wawwy?" Well, yeah, okay. I do say "no" to him. I just wait until he's finished rubbing my back. And if he starts whining about anything -- anything -- he's outta here. I can't stand whining. Usually he's too busy saying funny things to whine much. Like the morning he was warming himself by the space heater in the bathroom while Daddy was getting dressed. "Ooo, this heater smells like POOP!" Spencer said. "Like poop?" Eric asked. "Yeah, like poop." "Why does it smell like poop?" "I don't know," Spencer replied. "I guess you must've farted." That's my Spencer. He's especially good at pointing out bad breath, too. You can imagine how encouraging that is when I'm kissing him goodnight. "Ewww! Your breath is disgusting." Thank you, dear. It's moments like these that make motherhood worthwhile. No matter. He's an absolutely heart-stopper and he knows it. Now if you'll excuse me...it's time for my back rub. Labels: parenting |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
|
10of my readers are feeling chatty:
What joy! It leapt off the page! Thanks for sharing!
Diane
Great entry! I would love for my son to give me back rubs - but alas - 8 months old is probably to young for corruption in this arena. His dad will have to suffice for now :)
FTM
You are so whipped. ;-) He sounds adorable.
DramaMama has it nice in the backrub arena... its one of my specialties.
I will have to take anti-whiner lessons from you, to deal with the Bear. He watches Caillou which is toddler whiner training.
((Spencer)) does have charm! I know because I've met him in person. :)
Such wonderful boys you have. Must be just like their dad!
Awww that is a great picture.
How cool to get a back-rub from your little guy. You have a great family my dear. :)
too funny - reminds me of my mom. When something offended her and she wanted to make you aware of it, she would begin with "I don't mean to offend you but . . . "
Wendy directed me here. I love the way you love your kids!
AWWWWWW! What a sweet read.
Post a Comment
<< Home