Security Detail

"Alright, nothing to see here.  Leave this Mommy alone!"

You know you've made it in Hollywood when you find it necessary to hire security detail.  You know, guards to keep adoring fans at arm's length while you make your way to the car after a night of clubbing.  Guards to be on the lookout for that crazy stalker dude who keeps trying to break into your house in The Hills.  Guards to make sure your spouse doesn't eat your sweet potato fries.

Wait...what?

My son acts as my very own security detail.  If his father puts his arm around me, Boy is immediate to point out, "No, that's mommy's!" and swats his arm away from my shoulder.  If his father attempts to eat food that Boy has deemed mine he's met with a similar response-- "No!  That's Mommy's!  You not take it!"  Mr. Jarcy bought shoes that are identical to mine (sounds weird but they're classic running shoes that a person of any age can pull off) and this threw Boy into a tailspin.  "Those are Mommy's shoes!  You take off! AHHHH!"  While most of this guarding is against Mr. Jarcy that may simply be because the three of us are together the most.  

At best, I find it flattering, comforting, protecting.  At worst, I find it... aw who am I kidding?  I mostly like it.  Lord knows, there will probably come a day when he couldn't care less about who's eating off my plate.  For now it at times feels like it's just me and him against the world.  And that may be the best part of this whole Mommyhood in Hollywood deal.     

Pigpen

The other night I attempted to bathe The Boy.  The Boy hates them lately.  I had avoided giving him one for a few nights so enough was enough.  A wash down was essential, lest he start resembling that filthy boy in Peanuts cartoons with flies hovering above his head.  (Ugh, why can't I remember that character's name right now?  Well you know who I mean right?  Boy resembled him.)

So just as predicted the bath didn't go well.  We fought throughout it's duration.

Wait a minute-- You're telling me you argued with a two and a half year old child?

Yes, I did.

Can you really have an argument with a small child like that?

I'm not sure about others but you can with mine and I did.  It went something like this--

Me:  We're going to take a bath.

Boy:  No I not take a bath!

Me:  Please sit down in the bath, Boy.

Boy:  No I not sit!

Me:  Okay, I need you to sit down now.  You're going to slip and it's scaring me.

Boy:  No!  I not sit!

Me:  Alright, then we're done with the bath.

Boy:  NO I NOT DONE IN BATH!!!

Sigh.  Something like that.  Not the most relaxing or pleasant point of our day together.  I tried to remain calm but my little empath can pick up on how I'm feeling even if I'm burying those angry feelings as best I can.  I hoisted his forty-pound, slippery body out of the tub (honestly, a large river otter would have been more manageable) and carried him off to his room to dry off.  This is where our next conversation took place--

Boy:  Mommy you not mad.

I say nothing.

Boy:  Mommy you not mad!

Me:  I am a little mad.

Boy:  No you not mad!

Me:  Honey, take it easy.  Let's just get you dressed and ready for bed.

A few moments of silence passed as I toweled him off and found jammies.  Then out of nowhere--

Boy:  Mommy, nobody take you.

Me:  What?

Boy:  Nobody take Mommy.

Me:  No, Boy, nobody take Mommy.

Boy:  Nobody take mine Mommy.  

I scooped him up and held him in my lap and we rocked back and forth for a long time.  Teary eyed, I kissed his head/cheek/forehead no less than a billion times and reassured, "No, honey, nobody take Mommy."  We rocked more.  I kissed him more.  I held him tighter.  He hugged me back.  I was no longer angry.  Just grateful.

He sounds like quite the special little boy.  Very intense, yet smart and irresistible.

He is.

You're a lucky mommy.

I am.

--
    

Boy Earning His Keep (And Apparently A Shirt)

Mind Control

Boy's home away from home-- the mall train.

I have officially lost my mind.  My son now enjoys complete and utter control of it.  Yesterday, this was more evident than ever before.  Let me explain--

Shortly after waking up, Boy asked me, "Mommy, where my Gordon and Henry go?"  Gordon and Henry are trains from Thomas and Friends, the show I love, hate, love to hate and hate to love (very complex feelings regarding Thomas and his gaggle of motorized vehicle servants who live to obey and please their human masters).

"You don't have Gordon and Henry, honey," I replied as the word SUCKER flashed atop my head.

"Mommy, I need mine own Gordon and Henry," Boy said and then followed up that declaration with a very big, "PLEASE?"

I melted.  Boy says "please" but usually only after prompting.  And he never has really asked for specific toys.  I thought back over all the purchases I'd made throughout last week for myself and his father-- new running shoes (we don't run but walk like super hard), anniversary gifts for one another, etc.  It took all of half a second for me to determine Boy MUST have Gordon and Henry ASAP.  The fact he was emphatically mentioning over and over, "Mommy I need Gordon and Henry...PLEASE?" only convinced me further.

The SUCKER sign tripled in size over my head.

And so the Gordon and Henry ordering online began.  Boy got up close to the computer screen, overseeing my work and then pointed out, "Oh, that's Bash...PLEASE?  Oh, that's Dash...PLEASE?  Ferdinand!  Mommy, that's Ferdinand...PLEASE?"

My online shopping addict within took hold.  "Don't you need more train tracks too, Boy?" Boy looked at me but didn't answer.  He didn't need to.  "Okay, I'll get those too," I said, clearly under the train spell Boy had cast.

I wish I could say this is where the story ends but it doesn't.  You see, online shopping doesn't provide immediate gratification for a two and a half year old and his requests for Gordon and Henry continued.  Not in a tantrummy way either, simply a "I get mine own Gordon and Henry!"  I knew we'd hear this until the trains would arrive two days later.  Two days could feel like two weeks.  So I canceled the Amazon order and we headed to Target.  Did I mention I had a really intense sinus pressure headache?  Well I did which may explain why I was so anxious to give him new toys to occupy his time.  I pushed through the pain, the mission to find Gordon and Henry coursing through my veins.

We found a Gordon.  We found a Henry.  We found a Percy and some more train tracks.  They were battery operated-- not the usual wooden trains we buy that Boy loves to roll back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on everything from train tracks to my leg.  (This is foreshadow right here).  But Boy was captivated by them and their voices.  "I'm Gordon!  I'm the fastest and best!"  We brought them home.

Thirty seconds after Gordon was unwrapped Boy tried his usual back and forth rolling of the train which, of course, didn't work well as Battery Powered Gordon had his own agenda to simply move forward.  "Mommy, Gordon is broken," Boy announced.  "You fix...PLEASE?!"

I fixed it by running off with the other battery operated trains and hiding them in my closet, hoping he'd forget we had brought them home.  Then I hauled ass back on to Amazon and reordered our original purchase of 5 wooden trains and then-- get this-- clicked OVERNIGHT SHIPPING on the whole order, train track set and all.

Now Boy has enjoyed Gordon for almost a day and learned how to deal with his relentless desire to move only forward.  Gordon has broken a few times and somehow recovers on his own so that Mr. Jarcy and I can simply say, "He's fixed!" and then the two of them go back to play time.  And now I sit in a coffee shop waiting very impatiently for all the other trains to arrive just so I can see that child's face light up like it's Christmas morning (and believe me, it really is like Christmas morning with how much that shit costs).  

Yep, lost my mind for sure.

But I'll tell you what-- this kid means the world to us.  And he's not a spoiled brat.  He's super cute, super funny, super energetic, super spirited.  He's not just super, he's SUPER.  He's like a million rays of sunshine that I get to bask in.  So at least I moved to Hollywood and he's got control of my mind instead of all those Scientologists.  With Boy in charge, they have no chance of snatching me up (I'm easily talked into things and fear that could easily happen).

Master and Mom Servant