Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Punky, Monkey, Dad and Don....
I had an excellent conversation with my 19 year old yesterday. (Nineteen, how the heck did that happen?)
Every now and then, after months of watching the immaturity of his young adult behaviors and thinking that he’s never going to grow up, he will say something that totally surprises and encourages me. Such as it was yesterday, when we were having a conversation about self-esteem, and people who work so hard to impress others that they ultimately wind up alienating themselves, when he made the following comment to me:
“Dude! If you don't feel good about you without worrying about how other people feel about you -- then there's something wrong with you. Be your own star player. Most star players don't worry about the rest of the team; they only worry about their own statistics.”
*insert my raised eyebrow/confused look here à ____
Who is that boy, and what has he done with the real D?
Have I mentioned lately how much it annoys me when he calls me “Dude”. Is there anything about me that suggests masculinity?
He’ll be back in town this morning. I haven’t seen him since November. I’ve missed his face and am anxious for a big bear hug from my “Punky”.
On my dad….
I got to talk to him for a bit last night. I hate being so far from the old guy and I’m anxious for the day when he’s finally ready to move this way. In the meantime, I worry about him living in the middle of nowhere with only his dog to talk to.
Why don’t I go where he is, you say? There are several reasons; the biggest being that there are no jobs where he lives. I’ve got kiddos, those kiddos eat a lot, which means this momma has to work to feed them. You have to farm to make any money around there, and my farming adventures stop at milking goats for the neighbors and gathering the eggs when they’re out of town.
Besides, it wouldn’t be smart for me to leave the job I have now. As far as retirement goes, it’s one of the best places in the state to retire from. I’m almost 40. It’s time I should be thinking about such things.
He knows and understands this, and his plan is to eventually move this way. But, he’s got property to sell in a crappy economy, and affairs to get in order before he can make a move.
While you’re here, wave at the old guy. He’s reading the blog now. Hi Dad!
On my husband…
One year. We’ve been married one year. I’m really trying to digest that little factoid. It’s one of those things where it’s hard to believe it’s been a year, yet it seems as though it’s always been this way.
Even better? I still like him and he still likes me. We’re still tickled to death that we’re married. You can’t beat that with a stick.
Funny things I’ve heard this week?
Someone told me I was “like pudding, wrapped in sandpaper”. Guess they were saying, that while I may be a little rough on the outside, I’m soft and sweet on the inside. I might have to take that and run with it.
Well, I’ve had another doc say the kid needed to be evaluated for Aspergers. How do I feel about this? The same way I felt when I blogged on it a couple of months ago; I don’t care what label you attach to him. Aspergers? So what. Bring it on…He’s still the coolest kid I’ve ever met, the easiest kid I’ve ever dealt with and an absolute joy to be around. Attach whatever label you like. He’s still J. He’s still my little “Monkey”.
Yeah, I totally call my boys Punky and Monkey. Get over it. My dad still calls me Pooh Bear or Erikita too.
Sometimes I wish my grandpa still called me Snicklefritz.