Showing posts with label Hassaan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hassaan. Show all posts

Friday, 2 March 2012

Memories

(yes, I know I used their real names.  No, it wasn't a mistake.)

Just so you all can join me, every time I use that word as a title for something, or a single word, I continue to sing the song from Cats in my head.  Please, join me in singing about memories, moonlight, street lights and whatever else those bizarre over grown felines of Andrew Lloyd Webber were singing about!

Anyhow...

It's amazing how, for as much as things change, they also stay the same.

I spent nearly an hour sitting in our large comfy chair this evening with Declan asleep in my arms.  His head was resting in the crook of my elbow, my arms were around him as his legs hung over the side of the chair.  I sat like that long after my elbow cramped up because I realize how short these days are.  Camden is now tall enough that I can't sit like that with him anymore.  He no longer fits sideways in the chair, laying on my lap.  But Declan still does.

It's amazing how little, yet how much, that face has changed.  As I stared at it, the face was the same as the face that I sat and cuddled from the time he was a baby.  Probably about a month or so old.  The same nose, just bigger.  The same lips, just fuller.  And the same eye lashes.  And I swear those are longer.  He has the most amazingly long light red eye lashes.

One of the things that has changed the most, however, are the freckles.  I remember when he first started sprouting them.  Just a tiny little sprinkling across the bridge of his nose.  But as his hair got lighter and redder (well, more orange), his whole face gathered freckles.  I used to tease him that he had peanut butter tasting freckles and carrot tasting hair.  I'd ask him if I could have his freckles because I loved them so much but he'd always tell me "no!  They're mine!"  The one thing I've wanted for him is to have self confidence even in the things that set him apart - like the colour of his hair and the massive amount of freckles.  Both things he is very proud of now.

He still has the same little sighs in his sleep.  And he is still so very cuddly.

Eventually, I had to put him on the couch (can't carry him up the stairs anymore) because my arm just couldn't take it anymore.  But part of me didn't want to put him down because I know that time is coming to an end.  I know I'm lucky - I have two growing boys who get upset with me when I don't give them a hug or kiss before I or they leave, even if it's in front of their friends or other people.  I know by Camden's age that many boys don't want their Mom's to kiss them in public.  In fact, one of his friends chastised him one day for doing just that.  Camden, however, has enough self confidence to completely ignore that.  I know I'm lucky to still have boys that want to cuddle.  But I still dread the day where it will come to an end.

I know it won't be a sudden end, where it will just end.  It will be a gradual decline until one day I'll just realize that I haven't been sitting and cuddling with him in awhile.  And at some point I know that they will eventually not be demanding a "huggie-kissie" before I leave them.  I also know that the day is quickly approaching where I will be nothing more than an embarrassment to them.  But for now, I'll take all the cuddles I can get, and I'll remember when I'm feeling like I don't have time to stop and cuddle because I'm busy with something that I need to do it, because time is quickly moving forward, and soon all we'll both be left with is the memories.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

S-E-X and me

Bet you think this is going to be a TMI post, huh?  Bet you think I'm going to tell you all these things that you should never tell anyone.  Uh, not exactly.

So my morning - bright and early at 6:45am in my parents' driveway - started out with a rather shocking surprise.

Imagine this...you pull into the driveway as you would any other normal workday.  Your kids (now old enough to get themselves out of the car and to the door on their own) get their seat belts off and go to give you a good bye kiss.  Which is normal.  However, what happens next is decidedly not.

Hassaan leans in for a kiss.  Now, this is a child who from a very early age was adamant about that you do not kiss on the lips.  From the time he was about two, if you presented your lips for a kiss he'd physically reach up and turn your head to get to your cheek.  Well, Hassaan leans in for a kiss.  Misses my cheek, gets my lips.  I - for a very brief split second - think nothing of it.  However, before I can continue to think nothing of it, I am greeted with a screech.

"EWWWWW!!  MOMMY!  We KISSED on the LIPS!!!"

"So?"  Thinking "child, get out of the car, I have to go to work."

"We just had THE SEX!!!!!"

At this point, I'm somewhere between horror and hysterical laughter.

"Where did you hear that?" I ask him.

"Home Improvement."

Ah yes, that infamous episode of Home Improvement which ended their ability to watch the show.  For those that do not know or do not remember, Home Improvement was a sitcom that aired in the 1990s.  The first five seasons of the show were fine - family with three boys.  However, the first episode of season six begins with the mom catching the 16 year old boy making out with his girlfriend on top of his bed.  The mom (naturally, as she should) freaks out.  She calls the dad who's away on a business trip and says "I think Brad and Angela are having sex!!!"  So to Declan, kissing on the lips equals (in his words) "the sex."

So we continue on with our day.  The boys go to school, I go to work, I pick up Hassaan, take him to the optometrist, we discuss a little boy who was putting underpants on people's heads (and that the little boy the principal was leading into her office when I was signing him out was said little boy).  And then we picked up Hammad.

On the drive home, "the sex" comes up again. I'm not sure how.  Oh yes - kissing.  Though I can't remember how that came home.  However, as we pull into my parents' driveway (dropping the boys off once again as I was going back to work for a couple of hours) Hammad said "you know what Madame said in class today? She said SEX!!!!  In front of EVERYONE!!!!"

"We'll talk about this later."

Well, apparently, that one he decided to discuss with his grandparents.  My mother tried to find out if she had meant "gender."  She explained it to Hammad after he'd told her, under the very round about questioning of a first grade teacher that gets answers on occasion, that it had come up during a conversation on bullying. Hammad, of course, denied this.  He was just fixated on the fact that she'd said the word "sex" in front of the entire class.  He was somewhere between horrified, appalled and awed.  A grownup.  A teacher no less.  Had said sex.

What I did do, under much more direct questioning, was ask - using the knowledge I'd obtained from his grandmother - if she'd been talking about boys and girls playing together and not saying they can't play because so and so is a boy, or so and so is a girl.  Yes, he tells me.  That's what they were talking about.  So then we had a discussion about the fact that sometimes a word has two different meanings.  In this case, sex didn't mean what he thought it did (which is, what, exactly?), but the difference between a boy and a girl.

I had, sadly, (maybe fruitlessly?) hoped that that was the end of the sex conversation for awhile.  But no.  I forgot who I'd given birth to.

When I put them to bed, I always crawl into bed with Hassaan for a moment and we talk about their worst moment of the day and then their best moment of the day.  I always crawl in with Hassaan because they are in a bunk bed and there's just no way I'm crawling up top with Hammad.  I've done it a couple of times.  Besides nearly hitting my head on the ceiling, just not comfortable with it.

So as I was leaving to go back downstairs tonight Hammad calls after me -

"So when are we going to talk about sex?"

"Not tonight."  I hoped - once again fruitlessly - that that was the end.

"Why?"

"Because it's a grownup thing."

Bad choice of words, Mommy.  Bad choice.

"Why?"

"Because sex is only for grownups."

"So you'll tell me when I'm a grownup?"

"Sure."

"When I'm a teenager?"

"Sure."

"When I'm 18?"

"Sure."

"When I'm married?"

"You'll definitely know by the time you're married."

Note I didn't say who would tell them - just that they'd know when they were married.  Also note that this isn't one boy saying this, but a combination of both.

However, this is one came from Hammad -

"I'm getting married when I'm 18.  So you'll have to tell me when I'm a teenager getting married."

"Good night boys."

And so, that is how "the sex" and I went today.  They learned nothing more than what they knew this morning on what sex actually is, except for the fact that sex is not kissing on the lips.  And they also learned that "sex" can mean "gender" which means "boy or girl."  But really?  At six and seven?  Did they really think they were going to get grown up information out of me?