Two weeks
August 24, 2011We're in a state of suspended animation over here, lying in wait until school starts. The first day of school is in two weeks. 15 days, to be precise. Fifteen days and 10 minutes, as of this moment. Some of us are more excited about this than others.
This year is third grade, and Henry's worried. He's heard that there's testing. Also apparently there's some kind of dance the third grade class has to do in front of the rest of the school? I was pretty skeptical about this whole third-grade-dance-routine rumor, but his best friend, who's entering the fourth grade this year, confirmed it. Then again his best friend is not the most reliable narrator. Nothing against him, but I haven't met a kid his age who is. They're all a little confused, the dears.
Henry and I have been spending all kinds of quality time together, and while I look forward to resuming our regular routine and actually being able to get some things done, I am also enjoying the shit out of my kid. I said that to him! I said, "Henry, I am enjoying the ever-loving shit out of you." And he was all, "Aw, Ma." And then he rolled me my cigarettes just how I like.
It's fortunate for us that our child is extra-super-charming. Not to brag, but we kind of have the best one. Sorry, rest of the world! It doesn't hurt that August in New York, weather-wise, has been spectacular. We can go outside! And not want to die! We've been exploring Prospect Park and talking about Life and also which trees are best for climbing. (Henry then goes on to climb them. I stand nearby and try not to look absolutely certain that he will fall and break his body.)
The other day we encountered, in the park, a baby bunny. A baby! All by his/her (didn't check) lonesome! It was about the size of my palm and was hanging out with a gang of pigeons, munching on some grass. Henry advised me to steer clear, as I am known to stomp loudly and frighten away the woodland creatures, and while I obediently sat nearby he slowly inched toward the bunny. The bunny watched him from the corner of her (I've decided) eye, and once he was within a foot (while I cursed my decision to not bring my camera) they stood there and gazed at each other. It was hypnotic. I was fairly convinced he was going to mesmerize her and tuck her into his pocket before I could remind him that we have a bunny-murdering cat. (I'm guessing that's what she is. I've never seen her murder a thing. But she has it in her. I can see it in her eyes. Her blank, dead, shark eyes.)
Finally the bunny wised up and hopped off, and we continued on our way. Then I tried to convince Henry that he should be some kind of nature guide or park ranger or horse whisperer but he just wanted to talk about her little translucent ears and how she twitched her nose at him.
I do this every time my child shows a talent for something. He has an interest or an ability, and I immediately start projecting what this could indicate for his future. If he comes home with a painting, I imagine how I could nurture his talent so he can be a successful artist (and buy me a summer home) or if he writes a story that his teacher is excited about, I'm telling him that he could be an award-winning novelist someday (and then buy me a summer home). As if art isn't worth creating if there's not a future in it, or talent that isn't used for gaining income is squandered, or something. Or as if I just really want him to buy me a summer home. LISTEN. Is this so much to ask? I'm not asking for a place on the beach. Maybe a lake house, upstate somewhere? On the other hand the beach would be nice.
Reader Comments (18)
While he's at it, can he buy me an island?
If I went by my gut reaction to everything in which my kids excelled, my oldest daughter will be a scientist/writer/librarian/artist/mathematician when she grows up. My youngest will be an actress/singer/Ke$ha.
We have big plans for them.
Do you think Henry would build me a summer home, too?
I like Montauk A LOT.
I was walking around the stadium at a baseball game with Sarah's (of the Goon Squad Sarahs) son this weekend, and he was whining and challenging me on a number of points, rather masterfully. "You are going to make an outstanding defense attorney someday," I pontificated. "A WHAT?" "A lawyer. You're an excellent arguer." "Oh. Okay."
I felt a little weird afterwards, wondering why I'd felt compelled to assign him an occupation. But when he buys her a summer home I'm totally claiming a room.
Third grade! Wow! Please tell Henry there's a little first grader in Boston (not me, my son) who is way impressed that he's in third grade.
He's very awesome, that Henry. So glad you have him, so you can tell us his stories. (Until he starts blogging, of course.)
I used to do that with my kids too. In fact I still do because apparently neither one of them thinks sticking with one particular skill/career is the thing to do, so every time they show more than a passing interest in anything I think surely this time they'll be successful and famous sometime immediately, but so far, no. At least they are trying out somewhat plausible career choices now though. For a short time when my son was little he wanted to be a sheep shearer. I was a good parent and encouraged him, but I have to admit I was glad when his interests changed (I think magician was next).
Wait until he's 20 and you're still trying to do this (if he doesn't discover a burning desire of his own, pray every day that he'll develop one of those), but it's against a huge backdrop of FEARANDANXIETY because he's smart and a good writer and a huge reader and interested in a zillion things...and he seems to have NO CLUE of how the world works, despite all of his smartness qualities and finds your ever so delicate suggestions to be ludicrous (he has no idea why those other students are doing things like talking to professors or finding internships) and well...just you wait!
And now, I shall return to my previously scheduled my oldest just went back to college day filled with hyper anxiety. I'm hoping I can at least turn it into a slightly cleaner house.
Your kid is awesome. And no. There's no reason not to think that his awesomeness should one day buy you a beach house.
Driving past a local country club a couple of weeks ago, I tried to convince my 7 year old to hop out and find a future husband, a husband who would be more then willing to support her parents in their dotage. No dice. As an extreme activist of some sort, my 9 year old will go through numerous stints in jail when she rallies to "free the geckos" and bombs the local animal shelter to release all the caged animals. She claims she wants to be an astronaut, only not actually go into space. Maybe my cow wrangling, fire fightin', motor bike riding 3 year old will take care of us...
We're doomed, aren't we?
School starts for us tomorrow. 2nd grade. It feels like Real School for the first time (she gets a binder! And has to make Goals for Herself!). I'm nervous, mostly that I won't get her up in time.
However, I am also hoping to clean the house, so that's good. And my landlady chided me about my uncut grass and messy yard today, so there's that to work on.
Yeah, I love it when my daughter, 4 and a half, talks about the beach house she's gonna live in when she grows up, and how I can come stay there with her. Of course, she'll have to figure out how to reconcile living in a beach house with being a baby goat farmer. (I'm secretly pulling for marine biologist. Ha.)
My parents would do that too, "project careers" on to me, whenever I said I liked something. And I became none of those things ;-) .
Also Henry is right re: leave a bunny alone if you see one - they aren't like dogs - they scare easily. (I have pet bunnies :-) ).
Re: the bunny...
OMG I SAW I CHIPMUNK IN PROSPECT PARK THE OTHER DAY it was the most exciting time of my life. As it turns out, the Audubon Society part of the Park is awesome.
Have you considered trying to interest Henry in building? Like the building of beach housey type buildings? That way even if he's a broke, professional failure you can get him to build you a beach house with his bare hands in exchange for free rent and a fridge full of beer.
I've had worse ideas than this, you know.
school started a week ago for us, they're growing up so quickly!
found something interesting to share with you guys for your teens:
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I can't believe summer is over!
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These prizes are amazing...and you can even get the kids involved.
-Kat
Singer, piano player, martial arts expert, engineer, you name it, I have probably thought about it when it comes to my 6-year-old. And that's what scares me in a way. I can't find ONE single thing that I'm pretty confident he has passion and a deep interest in. He is like a jack of all trades - knowing a little about everything - but a master of none. A beach house.... don't think I should even be dreaming about it at this stage!
Audrey from Fisher Price Swing
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