The Lost Vacation Week

M-ito turned towards me tonight, in bed, while Mom-ita and I waited for him to close his eyes and go to sleep.

“Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes, ” I said. I’m not kidding. This goes on forever.

So he looked at me and said, “Dad-dito, usually I say I have a great time with you and a boring time with Mom-ita. But today, I had a great time with Mom-ita and a boring time with you.” Then he smiled his innocent smile and pulled both of us in to give him a kiss – a Max sandwich.

Mom-ita smiled. Finally, she mouthed to me.  

I nodded.

They’d gone to the pool today and the playground and seen one of M-ito’s friends from school. His day had been near perfect. I’d come home late from work and we’d had time only to play with our new girbils, Fari and Moovie, a little while. They were tired and nipped at M-ito’s finger, thinking it was a sunflower seed before they curled up with each other and went to sleep. I was just happy I’d made it home before M-ito had gone to sleep.  This week M-ito had been on vacation and I’d had to work. I remember when I used to be home two days a week with him. It seems like that was a long long time ago – another lifetime. My agency is in trouble financially and my job is at risk. I have to write grant proposals like crazy this month to stay in business. But, the trade-off is I lose a week with my son. Next week it’s back to school. At least over the weekend we’ll have time together. I’m not teaching yoga until next week – except at his school. And Saturday we go to our family yoga class at karma kids – something we both love to do together – followed by Books of Wonder.  

Clear the schedule. Get back to what’s important. It sounds so simple.

Who’s in Charge?

It’s 6pm. I’m home with M-ito, it’s Saturday evening. Mom-ita is out and won’t be back until after 8pm. M-ito has to eat, take a bath, read books and go to bed – all within an hour. He’s tired from two nights in a row of only 8 hours sleep – once from a late night out and once from being sick. He needs at least 10 hours sleep each night and he’s subsequently … cranky. He asks me if he can watch one of his movies for a little while.

I say no. “We don’t have the time.”

M-ito starts crying and yells at me. “Then I don’t want to talk to you about this ever again.!” He goes into the other room. I’m left staring at his corn dog and orange (I know, I know, but at least the orange isn’t fried.). 

Mom-ita calls and I talk to her for a minute. M-ito comes into the dining area – the tears gone – and asks to speak to her.

I say, “Sure,” and hand him the phone. I wait a moment and watch.

M-ito looks at me and says, “I don’t want you hear this.” Then he goes into the other room with the phone. About a minute later he comes back with the phone and hands it to me.

“What did you tell him?” I ask Mom-ita.

She’s laughing. “I told him if there was time and you said it’s okay, he could watch a little of his show.” The phone is back in its cradle and I’m left with my son sitting down a few feet from me at the table. He starts eating his corn dog with a big smile on his face.

I put my serious face on. “It’s not okay if you ask Mom-ita to do something after I said you can’t do it.” I try not to smile.

“I know,” he says.

“They why did you ask Mom-ita if you could watch your show after I said there wasn’t enough time?”

“Well,” he begins, way too composed, “Mom-ita is in charge of the house… so I thought she might say something different.” 

I laugh. “Yes, she is in charge of the house.”

“I know.”

“I know, you know. But who’s in charge of the house when Mom-ita is not here?”

“You are.”

“And when you don’t do what Mom-ita says you have to do when she’s not home, who gets in trouble?”

M-ito is laughing now. “You.”

“And if I get in trouble, who else gets in trouble?” He’s giggling too much to answer. I point at him. He’s gets to watch some of his TV show and I get a complaint-less bath. He’s in bed by 7:30pm and asleep by 7:45pm. Man, am I glad tomorrow is Sunday. I hope he sleeps late. Okay, what am I saying? I hope he sleeps until 7am. Well, I can hope. 

Stand-up Guy

We’re walking home from school and it’s raining. My umbrella covers us both. M-ito is upset because we can’t go to the park and play with his friends Jo-ita and Ski-lita.

“Why can’t we go to the park?” he asks.

“I told you – because it’s raining. M-ito they won’t be at the park either. It’s raining out.”

We walk in silence for a while, then M-ito looks up at me. I have to shift the umbrella a little to the right to cover him some more.

“Dad-dito, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Well… ” he begins. “Jo-ita and Ski-lita told me there were two kids who were bothering them at the park. And I told them I’d go and help protect them. Can you take me to the park on another day?”

“How old are the kids and what are they doing to the girls?”

“They are 5 and 6, like us and they’re bothering them. Jo-ita and Ski-lita said they bother them when they’re playing.”

“They asked you to help them?”

“No. I told them I’d help them. That I’d protect them.” He clenched his hands into fists and put a determined look on his face.

“Don’t you think the mothers should take care of this?”

“Can I go to the park?”

“Sure, I’ll take you. But you have after-school classes tomorrow and the next day is swim class and Monday is after school so I can’t take you until Tuesday.”

“Is that soon?”

“Five days.”

M-ito counted to five on his fingers, then nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Tuesday came and I couldn’t take M-ito because of work at my office, but Mom-ita went instead. She told me there was a lot of posturing, laughing, running, and chasing going on, but that seemed to be about it. M-ito had a great time and seemed satisfied.

I’m still not sure what happened. Perhaps one day someone will tell me.

Dino-opoly

When did it happen?

Three months ago Dino-opoly was boring. It was too difficult to count all the dollars, keep track of the properties, count the numbers on the dice and the spaces to move forward. The games biggest attraction has always been the images of dinosaurs that cover the board, the bones that are used for houses, and the chance cards that ask questions about dinosaurs – which M-ito can answer.

“What period did Tyranosourus live?” I ask.

“Creteceous,” he replies.

Basically the half a dozen times we’ve played the game (he’s had it since he was four) I did all the banking, paid all the bills, moved the counters, made the decisions, and … counted the numbers on the dice. Okay, I know that’s a bit much and I should be patient and wait for him to do these things for himself – how else is he going to learn? But after the first half hour of the slowest game in world history inching forward from space to space – getting distracted by other toys near and far to say nothing of mild air currents, a booger in his nose, and the smell of an old sock – even the most patient man (which I’m not) would have started doing for rather than watching do.

Now, my son is almost 6 – almost. He can count to one hundred, by ones, fives, and tens.  We played today. He counted the dots on the dice quick enough – though still one at a time – made all his own decisions about the game when I laid them out for him, and when I told him what to pay he counted out his own money.

He bankrupted me in an hour and a half.

Liopleurodon on the Loose

M-ito’s friends Noito and Celito’s grandmother has died. It’s just past one year since M-ito’s Gran has died and we can all feel the echo.

M-ito asks me, “Dad-dito, do you believe you were an animal when you were alive before?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. We’re sitting at M and V’s eating egg sandwiches.

“Well… do you believe we were alive as other animals and creatures before we were humans?”

“A lot of people believe that,” I say.

“But do you believe it?”

“Yes, I do,” I say. “You’ll have to ask Mom-ita to see if she does – but I don’t think she does. Me, I believe that, when we die, our soul or spirit is reborn sas another person or creature depending on what kind of life we lived. If we live a good life, are kind to others, treat people well, we come back as better people. If we don’t we come back as not-so-nice people or unpleasant creatures. That’s called karma.”

“I don’t really want to know about karma.”

“Okay.” We eat for a while and stare out the big window looking out over 37th Avenue. It’s cold out and a few snow flakes drift by. 

“I think,” M-ito says, “that I was a liopleurodon during the dinosaur times and that’s why I’m so good at swimming now.”

I nod, realization dawning on me. “I bet you were.”

M-ito smiles and takes a bite of his sandwich, a modern day liopleurodon snacking on eggs, cheese, bacon, and sesame bagel with a side of orange juice.