Letter to my Son

Lately, you’ve been showing the real beginnings of the “terrible twos” stage. You seem to be fighting me on everything, from changing your diaper, to putting you in the car seat, to making you come inside, to taking a broom away, to making you stay out of the entertainment center and not pulling DVD cases out everywhere. It seems to be a real battle starting here. Another thing you are doing is insisting that we play the Baby Mozart DVD over and over. We’ll play it once or twice in the morning, and sometimes once or twice at night. You love the part where the dragon comes out (puppet dragon) and then sticks his tongue out and goes “Blah!” When you want to see the DVD, you’ll sometimes do the “Blah!” thing (very attractive, I might say), or you’ll drag the DVD case out and bring it to me, or you’ll go into the entertainment center and start pushing buttons to try to turn it on. The other day the DVD stopped, and you went to the center, opened it up, and hit Play on the DVD to start it all over again. I don’t know how you knew to do this considering the fact that we usually use the DVD remote to start the show… but somehow you knew how to do it. Then you were quite content because the show started all over again. I was amazed. Soon, you’ll be able to do all the steps to start it. First, turn off the satellite, then turn on the receiver and put it to Video 3, turn the DVD player on, then open the door to check if the DVD is in. If it’s not, put the DVD in, close the door, then hit play. It’s as simple as that. A child with the intelligence that you have (and I’m NOT kidding here) should have that down pat very soon.

Ok, but could you please stop fighting me on everything? Today you even fought with me about taking your sippy cup and putting more water into it. I kept explaining to you that I was FILLING it, and you were grabbing at it the whole time I was filling it, saying “Mine!” I swear I wasn’t taking it away from you…I was filling it for you! Then, I opened the pantry, and you started to grab the broom. Forgive me for taking the broom away from you, but it just wasn’t time to sweep right then. You, of course, had to fall down on the floor and cry. It must’ve been very traumatic. I tried explaining to you that you can’t always get what you want. You don’t like that “Rolling Stones” song at all. But it’s true. Sometimes you can play with the broom, but when Mama says No, she means it.

Ok, so right now we have this strange smell in the house, and we can’t figure out where it’s coming from. To me, it smells like garbage. And yes, we’ve taken out the trash, so it isn’t that. I think sweet baby Tyler might’ve taken “something” and “put” it somewhere, and we can’t figure out where “it” is. I just know something smells. So, where is it, Tyler? Huh? We’ve looked under both couches, gotten the flashlight and looked behind the entertainment center… just can’t figure it out. I just know I’m sick of smelling garbage, and I’m sick of sniffing to find whatever it is. It would be great if we could sniff and smell exactly where it was coming from, but it just seems to be a general “stench.” So how am I supposed to hold your birthday party in like a week when the house smells like this, huh? Sure, I could spray some disinfectant (already did), but that is only a temporary fix. What the HECK (and I used that word in lieu of another worse one) is smelling this house up so bad???

Death of a Friend

Well, Paul Huck's mom, Jo, died last night around 9 p.m. He called Mother, and then she called me. I headed to her house to pick her and Fred up, and we headed to Paul's house.

It's strange that I have had a hard time in the past looking at a dead person. I couldn't even go in and see my aunt when she died. I didn't think I could go in and look at Jo either, but I did. I am glad I did. It got me past a fear I've had for years. I was even able to "talk" to her like she was still alive. Stuff like, where are your underwear? (because we were trying to get her clothes together that she will wear.) I wonder if she could still hear me. Mother thinks that they can still hear you. I guess that you're still floating around, looking at your body, and then your soul finally leaves and goes up to heaven, or the astral plane. I like to think she was floating up there somewhere, laughing at us being the goofuses that we usually are... because we were kidding her about putting her in her denim pants like she always wore. I can see her shaking her head at us right now. I think she always thought my Mother and I were crazy. That's probably why she showed such an interest in us when she didn't even show as much interest in her own "real" family. Who knows what goes through people's minds though.

Well, I'm going to miss Jo, but I am glad she is out of her misery. It was very obvious when Mother and I went to see her on Sat. that she was in a lot of pain. No one should have to endure that. So the quicker the departure, the better I say.

Here's to ya', Jo:



SCHMIDT, M. JOSEPHINE HUCK

Born August 6, 1916 in New Madrid, MO and passed from this world on January 15, 2006.

Bedtime Routine

Shouldn't the bedtime routine be something that the mother/father fight about who IS going to do it, rather that who ISN'T going to do it. Personally, I don't *mind* doing it... it is actually a very bonding experience. The bath, the books, the putting into the crib. But with Robert, most nights, it is like I've got to pull eye-teeth (one of my grandma's sayings, sorry) to get him to do it. No, he does it, but it's like he'll say, "YOU read him the books tonight." or "YOU give him the bath tonight." Well, ok, but I don't think I'm asking too much for him to do the 1/2-hour bedtime routine when I've taken care of Tyler all day. And I don't think it's asking too much, especially when Tyler is asking for Robert all day long with his latest: "DadEEE... DadEEE" all day long, and I keep having to tell him that DadEEE is at work. So he obviously wonders where DadEEE is all day. And I know that Robert loves Tyler. So why the fight on some nights about who's doing this bedtime thing? Can't he just do it and enjoy it? Tonight, he finally gives him his bath (with some not-so-friendly looks from myself, and my saying, "We're going to have a serious talk about this." one time, and another, "I am really getting tired of this being an *issue* with you." another time). I just get really tired of having to practically "beg" him to do the bedtime thing. And it isn't like he doesn't love Tyler to death! I know he does! Then why does he consider it to be such a hassle? I know he's worked all day, but hell, so have I!! So then it ends up being, "YOU put him to bed." "No, YOU put him to bed." Ridiculous! It should be a "fight" over who ISN'T going to do it as far as I'm concerned! And I'm not telling him to do it because I don't WANT to do it. I'm telling him because he needs to spend that time with Tyler!

Men can be so ridiculous sometimes. I told him all of what I've stated above *again* tonight, and he did do it all. I think it might've sunk in, but then again, we've had this discussion before, so who knows?