A Sticky Mess

It is our habit when we go Sam’s Club or Walmart to get Elijah a gumball out of the machine when we're done if he’s a good boy while we are shopping. He always hopes for a Mover Blue one but takes what comes out anyway. We’ve never had an issue with him chewing gum…other than reminding him not to chew with his mouth open. He always gnaws it to death and then throws it away. No problem…until last weekend.

I happened to walk across our dining room after a trip to the store and got a sticky feeling on my toe. To my surprise, it was a piece of his gum from that day. I peeled it off, threw it away and went to find the boy. After a scolding, he promised never again. He said it fell out of his mouth and he “forgot” to pick it up. Ok, no biggie. The only piece that was on the carpet was the one that attached itself to my foot. No damage done.

It wasn’t until later on that night at bath time that my daughter found the rest of his wad. In his hair. Thick-as-a-girl’s hair which needed cut badly. We tried combing it out after shampooing. Then peanut butter. Then butter. All we needed was bread for an Elijah PB sandwich. A friend suggested vegetable oil. Nothing doing. It was stuck to his scalp. Out came my clippers.

Now cutting Elijah’s hair is like trying to…well, let’s just say the boy can’t sit still for anything. He wiggles. He looks up. He looks down. He jumps. He shrugs. I’ve been cutting his hair for almost a year now because I can’t see paying $15 plus tip to get an uneven cut due to the aforementioned movement. I can give him an uneven cut for free. Actually, I do a pretty good job with my professional clipper/razor unit. I’ve even learned to move in time with his gyrations.

Anyway, back to the gum debacle. He had it ground in to the roots. I tried cutting it out. It just left gaping holes. So I trimmed, we considered, I trimmed some more. He wiggled and jiggled. But to get it all out, I finally had to put on my smallest attachment and more or less shave him almost bald. But the gum is out. And now he looks something like this. Actually he looks just like this…

 

He keeps rubbing his head and saying mournfully “I’m ba-old”. Poor honey.

When the boy does something, he does it all the way. Even if it's something like smashing gum into his scalp. At least his hair will grow back and as fast as his grows, I’ll be getting the clippers out again in no time. As for his gum chewing career? We’ll be sticking to apples as a bribe for a while.

As He Grows

Sometimes being a grandparent is so much cooler than being a parent, especially in the early stages of a child’s life. I remember being proud of my kid’s milestones but in the stress-filled haze of working full time and taking care of them, the exhaustion of being a mom was overwhelming. With Elijah, I can sit back and watch the fun for the most part. I’m fortunate in that he lives with me and I get to see most of his evolving first-hand. It amazes me how he has, from almost the beginning, focused on one passion for an unbelievably long time before moving on to the next. And, as he is four, he has had four major interests in his life.

In his first year, he was all about sports. He would sit on our laps from the tender age of a few months and watch the Pittsburgh Penguins play hockey. You did NOT get in between Elijah and the television. To do so would bring on a tantrum of epic proportions. He watched the entire Penguins 2009 Stanley Cup win even though he was only four months old. He learned to wave a Terrible Towel during the 2009 Steeler season and wore his Troy Polamalu jersey with pride…as much pride as a child that age can have anyway. Even today, although he doesn’t watch sports anymore, his Sidney Crosby Penguin jersey is one of his favorites.

Animals replaced sports in his second year. Cows say moo and ducks say quack. But sheep? They say baa! There was a sheep farm near his daycare center and Elijah knew it. He would start “baa’ing” on school days as soon as we put him in his car seat until we got near the farm. We would automatically slow down so he could look at the sheep while we drove past. One spring day, I drove out in the country and found another sheep farm. Elijah was thrilled when I stopped, took him out of the car and carried him to the fenced-in field. He baa’d loudly and soon enough, all the spring lambs came running to the fence hoping for food. He was ecstatic.

We also took him to the county fair for the first time that year. A young boy’s heaven…at least it was for Elijah. Barns and sheds full of cows, sheep, horses and pigs. Llamas, chickens and bunnies. Ducks and geese. He had no interest in the rides or food. Only the animals caught his eye. He wanted to pet everything so we had to have eagle eyes to protect his little fingers that seemed to be poking in to every cage or stall, regardless of what was inside waiting to nip them.

 

Age three brought on the construction equipment and trucks. Ditch diggers and bulldozers and rollers, oh my! Semis and tankers and dump trucks, holy cow! Our entire drive from Pennsylvania to Louisiana consisted of Imagination Movers music and ear-piercing screams of “Dump Truck!” Elijah knew what a truck stop was and we had to visit quite a few of them. I was willing as it made the long trip easier for him and more pleasant for my daughter and I.

 

Four is the era of the public servant. Every sheriff’s deputy that has been to our complex knows Elijah. We meet them at our numerous ER trips. Walmart always has one and each one there has been interrogated. We have one living in our apartment complex who is his best friend.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, we are currently visiting every fire station in our city and since it is a very large metropolis, we will be at it for the unforeseeable future. Every one we bless with our presence is amazed at the questions Elijah asks and the amount of time he spends looking at everything. From my point of view, you’ve seen one fire truck,  you’ve pretty much seen them all but not him. They are all new and exciting. And the station we visited last weekend had … OMG … fire poles! He was afraid to slide down one, even with the fire chief helping him, but he watched while the big man did it and was amazed and astounded. Well, maybe not that but he was pretty psyched.

Since it is the latest of his passions, Elijah is currently wearing a fire hat everywhere we go and has been for almost a year. He was a fireman for Halloween and wore the coat to his costume every day for the next week, taking it off only long enough for it to be washed. Since then, he wears it every time he goes outside or watches Fireman Sam (Sam is the hero next dooooooor….) He has fireman boots that he’s worn so often, there were holes in the bottom of them in less than six months. He has magnets, badges, stickers and coloring books given to him by the various firemen we have visited. He has a metal sign on his bedroom wall that says “Real Heroes Wear Boots” with a fire logo. Yes, he is enthused. Can you tell?

 

 

Since year number five is coming up quickly, I can’t wait to see what happens next. Knowing Elijah? Oh, it’s bound to be something epic and he will dive into it with boundless energy, determination and his own special brand of weirdness. And that is the greatest thing to watch.

If It Weren't For The Boy

I started my blog two years ago and as you know, most of them are about the little man in my life. Almost nauseatingly so. I was thinking earlier, as I started yet another “he’s so talented/smart/funny” story, whatever would I write about if it weren’t for him?

My job? Writing, tweeting or posting about where I work is forbidden. Since I don’t want to get fired, I pretty much don’t do it. Oh, but the stories I could tell…

My free time? To be honest, I don’t have much of that to speak of. What little I have is spent writing and spending time with him (and his mother, of course). It would sound kind of like “I went to work today. Then I came home and ate dinner. After playing with someone I’m not writing about just now, I turned on my computer and began writing…” See? Kind of like a fourth grade essay and hopefully not my style.

My family? That would be my girlies and, yes, my little guy. We love spending time together, although time with my younger girl is via Skype. I’ve written about my daughters (as much as I can without running the risk of making them hate me) but they really don’t do anything cute or funny anymore. I’ve already written about their childhood. Their adulthood is pretty much normal (read boring). Who wants to write about normal?

My life? Currently my life is all about fire stations as we are currently touring every one in the city. And NOLA after that. “Our” latest obsession. And if I wrote about that? Well, it would be just another story about the boy and that totally defeats the purpose. I added the photo because it relates to this paragraph, not because it's the guy I'm currently not writing about. Honestly...

 

 

 

 

My dreams? Oh, I have so many. Some are attainable. Some not so much. But I never want to give up on any of them. I will finish that novel. I will be published. I will win the Mega Millions…ok, maybe not that one. If I played the Mega Millions (which I don’t), I would have a chance of winning. Not a good one but a chance nonetheless. But if I write about my dreams, I’d be afraid that someone would read it and ask me in a few years “Weren’t you going to…?” Then I’d be stuck. 

All in all, I believe that I’m better off writing the “he’s so talented/smart/funny” story. My guy makes a good subject, is never boring and is always coming up with new ideas that make me laugh or cry or think. Besides, he's just so stinkin' cute, how can I resist?

 

 

 

 

Stay tuned. The boy will return for the next blog.

In Memory

I found this today while looking for some  photos of my mom and dad. It is a memorial I wrote for my girls about their brother two years after he was killed. It was published in the local newspaper on March 17, 2000. I didn't realize that I still had it and was very moved to read it again. I hope all of you are touched as well.

What's it like in Heaven, Connor?
Do the stars shine brighter there?
Do you sing with the pretty angels?
Do you miss us all down here?
Have you grown as much as we have?
Do you go to school each day?
Can you see us when we cry for you?
Do you hear us when we pray?
We wish we knew all the answers.
And God says some day we will.
But it's so hard to wait for that day.
When we miss you so much still.

Connor Lee
11/30/93 - 3/17/98