Good Morning Good Morning

Mom-ita is working four days this week. As any good Dad-dito would do, I’m doing double duty, getting M-ito off to school in the morning and leaving early from work to pick him up when school/afterschool is over. I’m pretty tired.

Usually Mom-ita and I take M-ito to school (drive) together and I walk from his school to the subway. The morning tasks with M-ito are divided up between us – Mom-ita makes our son his lunch (heat the thermos with hot water, heat the hot meal, fill the lunchbox, put it by the front door) while I make our son and myself breakfast (Hot cereal for me and Cornflakes for him – Mom-ita has breakfast later with her friends). She has done both jobs many times by herself when I’m away traveling and is a pro. It is rare I have to do it by myself for more than a day or two in a row so I am an amateur. I’m on day four tomorrow. It makes me grateful for the school lunch (today) and for Mom-ita’s ability to multi-task.

I’m getting better, quicker. But my to do list on Monday was sketchier than my list today. 

• Do yoga practice
• Wake Mom-ita up to get to her work
• Get M-ito up (not an easy task)
• Get his clothes together and put them near him on the bed (in case he gets up)
• Make lunch for M-ito (heat the water for the thermos and put the food in the oven)
• Check on M-ito to see if he’s up yet
• Put M-ito’s food in the thermos and thermos in the lunch box
• Make breakfast for M-ito
• Check on M-ito to see if he’s up yet
• Make my own breakfast
• Check again on M-ito to see if he’s opened his eyes
• Plead with M-ito to wake up
• Bribe M-ito to wake up
• Remind M-ito to pee when he does wake up
• Eat breakfast together
• Attempt conversation
• Listen to Pokemon story
• Take shower while M-ito gets dressed nearby
• Get dressed with M-ito finishing getting dressed nearby
• Make sure lunch box is packed and by the front door
• Make sure backpack is packed and by the front door
• Turn inside out M-ito’s socks (the seams bother him)
• Get M-ito’s sneakers laces loose so he can put on his shoes quickly and easily
• Help M-ito get on his sneakers anyway (hold laces with finger while he ties bunny ears)
• Get on my own shoes and jacket
• Help M-ito get on his sweater and jacket
• Tell M-ito he has to wear a hat (it’s cold out)
• Tell M-ito he has to pick a hat (too many choices)
• Adjust the hat he’s chosen (he chooses my favorite hat which I was going to wear so I have to choose another one for myself)
• Hand him his backpack and then help with the arm through the strap (otherwise I’ll watch him going around and around trying to get his arm through the second strap)
• Watch as M-ito goes back to the table for a Pokemon action figure to bring with him
• Watch as M-ito goes back to the table for a Pokemon card from one of his new decks to bring with him
• Remember wistfully that it used to be a Lego Star Wars figure that he took with him
• Go back to the living room for my keys, my wallet, my money, my watch
• Look each other in the eyes and leave together
• Walk to school, holding hands most of the way

Om Nama Shivaya. I’m going to do it again in the morning.

In case it sounds too idylic, we had a huge fight this morning – day three – because he wouldn’t get up and we were half an hour late for school. My tactic was to let him be late and I simmered. Maybe it was better than blowing up. Mom-ita and I fought a little instead on her way out. I said to her, “let me handle it.” I was probably wrong in my approach. As we were on our way out the door M-ito apologized to me. I told him he had to get up in the morning to get to school. Then I added when he was late, I was late to work. Then I added Mom-ita and I fought because he was late this morning (ie: it was his fault). Guilt is my speciality. Then I called him from work a couple of hours later (a phone that goes right into his classroom) and checked to see if he was all right – feeling very very guilty for guilting him on the way to school with words that will probably scar him for life. He sounded fine on the phone as if it had all passed him by a long time ago. I’m glad he’s resilient.

When I picked him up from afterschool ballet, he sat on my lap on the couch outside the classroom for fifteen minutes. We watched all the other kids (all three of them) leave the class with the teacher. I gave him a big hug and kiss. We talked a little while, then, he looked at me and said, “I’m ready to go.” I helped him get changed. I carried his bag (too heavy – it was) and his extra jacket (too hot outside – and it was) and watched as he ran back and forth playing with two friends that we walked a few blocks home with. 

Mom-ita and both joked with M-ito this evening that we would wake him up this morning singing, “Good morning, good morning” from Singing in the Rain. He laughed and laughed. The giggle that launched a thousand ships.

September 11

I was in Tower 2 and still I didn’t remember what day it was today.

I didn’t remember until I got off the subway on 23rd street and saw a friend who started talking about the 9/11 – today, this day. I asked her if she’d been down there on the 11th and she said she’d been down on Fulton. I told her I’d been in Tower 2. Her eyes opened wide and she said, “Wow.”

I started off the day well, with my yoga and meditation, then Mom-ita and M-ito came into the living room – both early, about ten minutes before I was finished. That was all the peace we’d have this morning. Mom-ita walked M-ito into the bathroom to pee – he’s been having moments of being afraid lately, perhaps coinciding with going back to school – entering first grade? Perhaps just afraid of the biting beetles of childhood.

The fighting started with the shower. M-ito resisted and I gave up waiting after ten minutes of standing in the shower and asking him to get in the tub.  There were tears and  harsh words, but I kept my cool, didn’t raise my voice at all. M-it’s voice rang loud and clear. I let it come and go in a wave. M-ito said I’d made fun of him and yelled at him. I had not yelled, but I’d joked about keeping all the hot water to myself to try and nudge him into getting into the tub. It didn’t work and I reminded myself never to try that again. My son doesn’t need excuses to stay out of the shower.

Then he wouldn’t put the nail clipper down when he was supposed to be eating at the breakfast table. By the third time I’d asked him and he’d nodded but not put it down, I’d had it. Then he put the nail clipper down and shot it past me with a flick of his finger. That put me over the edge. I slammed my hand onto the table and said, “That’s enough!” And so we had a second set of tears to cover the morning.

The third set occurred only minutes later. M-ito and I had been eating breakfast silently, him with his back to me, me with my heart breaking. Mom-ita came in to help him put on his socks. She smiled at him and he pushed the socks away onto the floor. We both yelled and tears flowed.

When we got to school, I had to stay in the car while Mom-ita walked M-ito in – we’d parked by a hydrant. I told M-ito I loved him and he barely turned to look at me. I can still feel the hollowness inside my chest from his expression. I know he’ll be over it by this afternoon, the whole morning having passed over like a rain shower, leaving the grass fresh and filled with dew and the sun shining. Then his smile will turn my world bright. But now I hold on to it, too adult and filled with wonderings over what I should have done different to let it all go.

I walked to the subway and down underground. Up at 23rd street, my friend saw me and asked me about 9/11. “Nope,” I said. “I hadn’t thought about it at all.”

“I was on Fulton Street,” she said.

“I was in Tower 2,” I said and watched her face change in reply.

“Wow,” she said.

Nope, I wasn’t thinking of 9/11 at all.

Socks Redux

After a month of complaining about socks that were too tight I bought M-ito socks that were big on him – at least two sizes. He wore them on and off for two weeks. A few days ago he finally admitted they were too big.

“These socks are a little big,” were his exact words.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He nodded.

I got closure on the sock episode. I never would have believed it. He still refuses to put his socks one unless he’s by the front door, but I got closure.