Friday, February 03, 2006

My kid is getting big for his britches these days.

I have been coming down with some bug for the past three days. Two nights ago, he wanted me to play with Lincoln Logs on the floor, which I absolutely did not feel like doing. I just wanted to lie on the sofa and not move a muscle. Here was our conversation:

Judah: Mommy, play with you?

Me: Judah, mommy is really sick. I need to rest. Can you play by yourself?

Judah: {{wraps me up in a bear hug and starts trying to lift me off the sofa}}. Mommy, come on! Play with me! Build castle now! Let’s go!

Me: Really, son, I am sick. I need to rest. You have to play by yourself right now. I’m sick!

Judah: {{pulls my legs and grunts like he’s lifting something heavy}} It’s too hard. Come on, Mommy! Play with you?

Me: {{throws head back in exasperation}}

Judah: {{grabs my face in both hands and pulls my head down to eye level}} Mommy, look at me. You NOT SICK. YOU NO REST. Play me on floor? You build, mommy? You build with me?

He has figured out how to ask the same question over and over and over and over and over until I cave.

Then, last night, at 11:45pm, he woke me up to ask if he could go downstairs to play. He refused to go back to sleep and so I ended up making a palette on his bedroom floor and said, "You can play in your room, but Mommy is going to sleep." He played until around 6am! He pulled every block, puzzle and tractor out of his toy box and thoroughly enjoyed waking me up once by handing me a book to read to him ("Mommy, read book?") and another time by moving the beads back and forth on an abacus that he had placed by my head ("Mommy, play with me?") and another time by putting a chair on my palette and constructing towers out of wooden blocks.

I woke this morning feeling like a mack truck had rolled over me a dozen times.

We have to get him back on schedule because he has a group evaluation tomorrow morning at the #1 school of our choice. If he blows it after all the stuff we've done (paid big application deposit, gotten letters of referral, toured the school, crashed a parents' night spaghetti supper, etc) I will be really bummed.

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