Since Julian was 4 days old he has attended a daily dog walk or two. This has resulted in a bizarre “sibling” rivalry that transcends the strong feelings humans harbor towards their pets.
We all think our kid is cute. Little J is cute. He was in fact born cute. We were warned that babies are not particularly good looking but he really was easy on the eye. On top of that he is very chatty and has an accent. Winning combination you would think. Then how come he has never ever been paid a compliment by a random stranger? Because I decided we should get a dog once we were expecting. Not just any dog; a huge friendly beast that stops traffic. So Little J stands in Big M’s shadow. Literary.
We walk by a group of kids and they come running asking to pet the dog. So I teach my son to stand proud and make conversation about his dog. But it doesn’t work. People ask me how old he is and I make sure I respond with my child’s age first adding the dog is seven months older. But it doesn’t work. I have even let Little J hold the leash. And that definitely doesn’t work.
The other day I was putting away laundry and passing by the window upstairs I notice a group of teenagers hugging my dog who is willingly posing for an impromptu photo shoot. As they walk away and pet him he returns back to the front porch for his nap. That’s the trouble with Big M. He truly is a cool canine.
Lucky for me it all works out. Little J does indeed love the dog and I have on occasion caught him hugging the dog when I am not looking. Needless to say Big M worships the ground my son walks. And I get to clean after both of them…
We woke up to a tsunami alert! To say that a natural disaster of this magnitude puts your life in perspective is an understatement.
Many years ago in a land far away our next door neighbors were from Texas. I sat in their living room as they watched helplessly the latest news on Katrina. Their home was close to the beach and unoccupied, filled with everything they so lovingly collected during years of adventures around the world. And all I remember is how concerned they were about their family photos. Nothing else mattered, just pieces of paper with their children’s smiles. I understood but in a few years when movers unpacked 44 boxes in our new home and one was missing I could relate. All of my childhood pictures, little momentous and work related documents were gone. On the bright side my son will grow up thinking mommy met daddy and they lived happily ever after. No proof of my former existence, bad haircuts and questionable decisions.
Lucky for us all is well. And thanks to the new age all I have to say to my son is “Grab the Apple and Blackberries and run!” and his story shell be preserved.
We all have grand ideas. Our kids will be talented, successful and all that jazz. I am of a thought he will be who he will be and I have a rather good feeling about it. Lucky for me little J rarely disappoints. He is great to be around and lots of fun. But dinner time is… Perhaps a little bit of a let down. Granted this is a sore spot for husband and I since we are a tad snobby about food, really enjoy cooking(him) and eating(me) and want to celebrate the day by eating as a family.
But Little J has it figured out. At the table is his five minutes of fame. He puts on an Oscar worthy performance and switches scenario on us daily so we can’t anticipate and react accordingly. The end result is us trying not to laugh, then us begging and pleading and then saying things and making promises that you would cringe if you heard. Somehow we make it thru every night and there is always a desert at the end. Not as a reward mind you but more as a consolation prize. Thank you for participating, in your face mommy resolutions and well done three year old for making us beg to eat what I bet you liked to begin with.
Yep, we always had grand ideas about our family and at dinner time we are grand indeed…