I don't really know what to do with my son sometimes...
Yesterday, I was finishing my planner for the year, using last year's planner as a ruler. The back fell open and Sammy saw a bunch of words and asked what they were. I told him it was where I wrote down all the funny things he said when he was younger. He wanted to know what they said, so I read them all to him and then finished my planner and forgot about it.
During dinner, I was telling Isaac a weird thing Sammy said today (which, of course, escapes me now). I kind of rolled my eyes and said, 'Your son is such a goober'. I didn't think Sammy was listening, at all, but then he looked up at both of us and said, oh, so matter-of-factly, the following: "So, Mommy, you should TOTALLY put that in your notebook."
And then turned back to his dinner. The connects? They are a-firing for my son. Clearly.
Sammy asks for "another kid" for our family every week. On Monday, he asked again for one so that he would "always have someone to play with when you can't play with me". It breaks my heart, every time, but it's getting harder, as well. I hate not being able to give him something he so very much wants. It kills me inside every time and yet? I smile. I play up how WONDERFUL our little family of three is. I tell him how great it will be to have friends at school to play with and still be able to come home and be alone and have his stuff. I tell him how PERFECT and HAPPY we are (we are!) and list all the great things. I never say that this isn't normal. I never say anything negative. I simply say that this is our family and we aren't getting another kid and how wonderful it is to be him and have all of mommy and daddy's attention and love. And I joke away the despair on his face. I kiss away the hurt. I hug the sorrow out of his eyes. And I assure him that we're ok. We'll be just fine. Everything is right and just how it should be.
And then, when I can, I find a quiet place to sob. I plead to have some measure of peace for him. That I'm not screwing this thing up too badly. That I will somehow, by a MIRACLE, know what to say next time. And pray a little harder there will never again be a next time. I've never felt badly for myself; not really. Mostly the hurt is for Sammy. I realize that even if we felt as though we COULD have another kid, the timing has passed. There is too big a gap, now. And we would be doing it to appease him. Not because it is right or true for us.
I know having a sibling isn't a fail safe. I KNOW that. We could have another kid who hates doing Sammy stuff. Or wants to be left alone. Or is mean. They could simply not like one another. And grow up not talking. I know. I KNOW! But I hate that Sammy has to deal with being lonely so young. I hate that he just can't understand right now why this is how it has to be. But what I hate most is that I'm so very alone in navigating these waters. Because there is NO ONE who knows. No one who can say anything to make it all better, make it different, make it all go away. No one knows what it is like to parent an only Sammy. But still, I so desperately wish I weren't writing the only book on Sammy as I go.
So, in the meantime, when I put Sammy in the cart at Sams and he looks at the empty seat beside him and asks, again, if we could PLEASE have another kid, I'll keep smiling and reminding him that we're OK. That we're the perfect family of three. That it would be too many kids for us if we had more. And tell him that this is the perfect way for us to be. And keep kissing him until the subject is changed. Because I don't know what else to do. And there always seems to be a next time. Prayers be damned.
I had VERY vivid dreams last week. Sleep disturbing dreams. My mind was so very active during all of them and they were so vivid I could remember every detail after I woke up. I blame the time change. Heh.
The first two were set in the library and consisted of me looking for a book (the first night a novel, the second a YA book). If you ever need to fall back asleep in the middle of the night, might I suggest this method? In your mind, go BOOK BY BOOK through your entire library. Seriously. THAT was my dream. Two nights in a row. Oy with the poodles already!
The next night was about my ex-husband. Instead of his usual insistence of what happened at the end of our marriage, he was asking me how I could so quickly re-embrace certain songs that defined "us". Which is weird, because he was hung up on the Once soundtrack which didn't happen until WELL after both of us had remarried. But he was so darn persistent and I kept apologizing but telling him that I couldn't help it - it's SUCH a great album, but I was sorry. So very weird.
The next one, I was married to Hugh Jackman. Yeah, tough, right? Except he had just died as my dream started (oooooh, Freud!). However, the only person who KNEW we were married was Jennifer Lopez. So I could only mourn around her. He was "married" to his other wife just to appease the Australians who would never go for him married to an American, so she got all the public sympathy. However, JLo and I planned a huge funeral parade in NYC. It? Was AWESOME. And I ran into Oprah, who somehow also knew I was the 'real' wife (because Oprah knows all?) and I cried. For about an hour. Or, it at least felt like an hour...It was all very sad and real and I felt like I was really mourning. And HUGH! Man. In my dream memories he was a FANTASTIC husband. So I'm not really surprised the mourning was at an all time high.
I was truly glad for the respite on the fifth night. It was EXHAUSTING, these dreams. Too bad night six brought along a Jack Johnson concert...
(these dreams, heart: this reminds me of a 4th? 5th? grade trip to City of Rocks...i'm old)
Because my random things you didn't know about me were all kinda grouchy (Esh! What a week!), I thought I would balance it out with a little happy today.
*There is a guy who works at the grocery store we frequent who is just awesome. He gives out suckers to the little kids while he stocks, but I always declined one for Sammy. He completely remembers this and us every time and personally goes and gets Sammy a balloon instead. Every time. But he always asks me if it's ok, because he doesn't want to overstep. He is always so nice and talks to Sammy and is just genuinely a good guy. I'm grateful he enjoys his job so much.
*I'm thrilled by the emails I received last week from several people I didn't even know, who read my blog, asking me TO write about money. I think in this economic climate we all have things to learn from each other to make us all more self sufficient and I was heart warmed by the support. Still trying to find the words, but the encouragement was lovely.
*I bought this this weekend and I CANNOT wait to use it. I've had several notebook ideas floating in my head (as well as a PERFECT planner!) and, even though I have successfully battled every crafty thing until now, I'm fully embracing this. Custom notebooks. EEEEEEEE!
*We just bought a share in a local fruit CSA for this summer. From what I understand, there will be a LOT of fruit this summer. Time to learn how to can peaches and apples...
*Even though I have yet to smell "the smell" and it's bitterly cold right now, I can sense spring. The smell is coming...and I know it's coming sooner this year than last. I KNOW it. Driving home from shopping down south on Friday, I saw the hills turning green. Bright, spring green. Heaven.
*Winco. My little town NEEDS one. It's one of those memories that I try to tell myself is not NEARLY as good as I remember, it's just that it's attached to Portland, so THAT is where the love is coming from. Nope. There is a Winco about 30 minutes from us and we went last Friday. Two hours in a glorious warehouse-y grocery store and Isaac and I were both in heaven. Just as good as I remember and my town NEEDS one. Until then? 40 minutes isn't brutal for twice a month shopping. Right?
*The doctor showed Sammy how to build an airplane with tongue depressors. And then made sure I could replicate it. You hear such horror stories about Instacares, it's nice to have one with decent doctors.
