Mom Chronicles 10- Just like me!

Hey, you guys~
Due to computer issues not sure if this is going to make it in to the paper this week, so in case it doesn't, you can read it here. Hope you had a great holiday weekend!
Amy


The Mom Chronicles: Just like me

Welcome back, Chronicle Moms! I hope you enjoyed your Labor Day weekend! By the time this goes to press the kids will be back to school, and the hectic schedules associated with the school year are well under way. Perhaps if you are one of the lucky ones, you may have finally even found time by yourself to sit back and enjoy the quiet and still of a house free of kids. If you are like me, however, while my kids are not yet of school age and the fall then, does not provide the same break, the weekends they are with their dad do, and I find that rather then enjoying the quiet, I miss the noise. Somehow it just doesn't seem right with out the laughter and voices of the kids. Dare I say they are missed? Of course. What kind of moms would we be if we didn't miss them when they are gone, but don't feel guilty if your initial feelings are of relief and respite. You deserve it. You worked hard this summer, moms. Take time to enjoy the quiet. They will be back soon.
Well, I thought this week we would return to the light hearted side of life in the Peterson household. It's been a few weeks, after all, since we have been able to sit back and just enjoy each other. And considering the heaviness of the last week as we remembered our Sam, I feel like we need a week to just laugh. Unfortunately for him, my poor Matthew is the target of this week's column.
My Matthew. What can I say? He's three. He is out of what were a very trying twos, and each day I see him getting a little older, a little wiser, and lot more like me. (Poor kid.) It's funny the way our kids mirror us and our behaviors. It's not until they say or do something, however, that takes us back and we think "Where the heck did that come from?!" that we realize it.
Now, I must preface this by saying that I have basically raised Matthew alone. His dad has worked out of state for some time, and so Matthew has grown to know me, mom, as the constant, and therefor rather than mirroring some of the manly things his dad does, Matthew tends to mirror me. In other words, growing up with mom's influence has at times brought out his feminine side, with out his even realizing it. While I have made a NASCAR and Vikings fan out of him, brought him to a demo derby, car race and buy him an upsurd amount of Thomas the Tank engine trains, I have also painted his toe nails and taken pictures of him curled up sleeping with his sister's babies. Now, don't get me wrong, Matthew has had his share of men in his life. We lived with a friend of mine for a while and her husband sort of became a surrogate dad for Matthew. He'd let Matty mow the lawn with him and take him on rides on the four wheeler. Not to mention Matthew's cousins, my brothers and brother in law, and of course Matthew's dad. The funny stories, however, are not of Matthew doing the boy things he does, but the things that mirror me. Of course, some day he will hate me for sharing them, when he is a big burly football player or race car driver or something macho like that, but for now, he is my baby and I can't help myself but to share them.
It seems as if being three has somehow brought out a different side of my son. He is trying to be much more independent and insists on doing things on his own and making his own choices. He also is much more curious, especially when it comes to body fluids, mainly those of the BM kind. No one in the house can have a bowel movement with out Matthew insisting "I see! I see!", quickly followed by an "EWWWW!!!" This of course, can be mortifying for mom when I take him in to the bathroom in public. On one special evening Matthew walked out of the bathroom and exclaiming to a crowded lobby, "that was a BIG POOP Mom!". Of course no one knew if he was talking about something he did, or I did. I didn't bother to explain. I just ushered him back to his seat and hoped no one recognized us.
Meals have also been more colorful then usual, especially when we eat out. "Sandwich, no tomatoes, diet coke" has come out of my son's mouth on more than one occasion and when offered a choice between milk and juice to drink at dinner one night last week, he very politely stated, "No thank you, mom. Diet Coke please." (I bet you can't guess what my beverage of choice is?!)
Getting primped up has been another highlight of our summer, though this one is not entirely my fault. Prior to my getting my leg casted, I opted to paint my toenails. Well, of course Matthew was present when I was doing this, and insisted on having his painted, too. Poor kid. While he proudly modeled his dark purple toes to his day care friends the next day, he was not exactly met with the response he was looking for. One of the older boys, who is a very boyish boy, gave Matthew a hard time about it, and ever since he tells me when I get the nail polish out that he doesn't want it. I feel bad his feelings were hurt, but it was a good bonding moment for us and I still smile when I see the remnants of the purple polish on his big toes.
Then there is my eye makeup. My son has had some amazing pictures taken of him of his artwork he makes on his face with my makeup. He even recently went in to the baby sitter's purse and went to town with her lipstick. It's been cute for a while but I am kind of thinking that come four, I better put the kabosh on it. It definitely won't be cool then! Then there was a few weeks ago at Walmart. We were in the shoe department and of course, there are mirrors there. My son got on top of the bench so he could see in the mirror and sat and "primped" his hair. When asked what he was doing he simply said, "I handsome now, mom". And then there was last week. My son got in to the car from day care with dry hair and got out of the car with wet hair. I asked him what he put in his hair and he said water. Well, I knew there was no water in the car so I dug around and found an empty cup of what was a beverage of the Sprite or Sierra Mist variety. He had used the pop to "style" his hair on our way home. At day care my provider occasionally does the kids' hair up for them. This episode? Yes, that would be her fault.
Tattoos are something I have a couple of, but don't necessarily promote in my kids ( of course, they are one and three, a little young.) They have not been with out their little press on ones, though, mostly from day care but at home as well. Well one day we decided to get fake press on tattoos out of one of those little quarter machines. We got Mickey Mouse ones for Matty and his dad, and My Little Pony ones for Ella and I. Well, you can imagine, when it came time to put them on, Matthew saw mine and insisted he have a pony one, too. Needless to say I cringed when he ran out to the big boy neighbor kids to show them his "new tattoo". He was so proud. Thankfully for him, they didn't tease him. They were kind and told him it was cool and still let him ride bikes with them, My Little Pony tattoo and all. Special, Matthew. Very special.
This last week provided yet another laugh I did not anticipate. Ella is in the stage of pulling everything out of my purse. Of course in that, includes my feminine products that are kept in it just to be safe. For whatever reason, Matthew was suddenly inspired to unwrap one of the maxi pads and ask me what it was. I told him that it was something that mommy used sometimes kind of like his pullups. To that he proceeded to put it in his pull up and wear it for the rest of the evening. Could have been worse. A friend of mine who has a daughter Matthew's age, in hearing this story, told me her daughter has started teasing her, "Mommy wears diapers! Mommy wears diapers!" as she, too, discovered her maxi pads.
Of all these things, however, my favorite remains something my son did this weekend while on a walk with Ella and I. I was pushing Ella in the stroller and Matthew was walking with me. He spotted a large tree stump, jumped on top of it, threw his hands in the air, and exclaimed, "I the queen!". (Insert reference to the movie Titanic and the famous line "I'm the king of the world!") I can't remember a time I ever professed to be queen, shy of a few colorful moments in college where I said I was the queen of the universe and made a crown with my hands on my head, but nothing in Matthew's life time. So where it came from, I don't know, but my son, my Matthew, he is the queen. I corrected him and said, "King, Matthew! King!" but he liked queen better and once again said, "I the queen!". It was fabulous.
While I suppose I could feel embarrassed for my son for the things he has done to be "just like mom", I can't be really, especially in the times I see him being like me in the good ways. This weekend we had our first experience with staples, of the medicinal form. Matthew decided to jump on my bed, even after all the stories of the monkeys who did that and bumped their heads. And what did he do? Fell off the bed and bumped his head. Not just bumped it, though. Lost a part of it to the night stand. So, profuse bleeding and a trip to the ER, where he got a staple put in it to hold it together, and from him, nothing. The nurses came in to assist the doctor as they hear a kid fussing expecting it to be him resisting the staple, but instead it was Ella, growing impatient with being there. Matthew sat stoic and didn't even whimper. Granted he howled when it first happened and when I tried to wash it up later in the day, but for the hard part, the staple, brave as can be. I can say he gets that from me. And when it comes to looking out for others, he gets that from me, too. I admire how he protects his sister or is ginger with babies or kids smaller then him. He says his prayers when he goes to bed and last week it was, "Bless mom, and dad, and Ella, and Matthew, and baby Sam and (insert a few friends of ours) and God bless Jesus!" This before reciting his own rendition of "Goodnight Moon", the book we read together each night.
I am proud of the little man my son is becoming and it makes me smile when I see him trying to mimic me. I guess it makes me feel good because he must look up to me in some way or form, or he wouldn't be trying to be just like me. There are things he does that I am not so proud of, such as when he says a colorful word or or shouts at me. Those are things that also remind me that unfortunately, I am the most influential person in his life and he does also get those things from me. But at those times it just makes me want to try harder.
Something funny? Ella is now starting to mimic Matthew, much to his displeasure. I guess he is getting a taste of his own medicine, so to speak. I battled with him for some time over spitting at me when he didn't like my answer to something or being told "no". It's no surprise then when today, Ella took one of Matthew's toys and to Matthew's response of "No! No! Ella!", he got a wet, sloppy spit from her instead. Let's just hope she finds other ways of being just like him, and ultimately just like me.
From our house to yours, see you next week!