Parenting Henri

this is about henri, and the parenting thereof

You’ll Be Glad to Know Henri Is Still Alive 2011/01/05

As am I…

Rather than fill you in on the past six months, or fill you up with excuses like the fact that I was teaching five classes and thus responsible for 99 students (!), I’ll just tell you what happened today.

After a blissful day at home watching cartoons-on-demand (Henri) and blogging (mom-mom), we multi-tasked. Henri bathed, while I fed him and read books in preparation for nap.  I then lathered him down with lotion as I have since he was a baby, despite protests from the boy who is no longer a baby.  Next, we read a final book and he talked himself to sleep in the “family nap” bed.

An hour and a half later, he woke up.  More specifically, he sat up and said, “I slept good.”  L-U-V.  Henri is never as sweet as when he’s slept good.  So, I put him on my lap, got his shoes, and began to explain that we had to go see one of mommy’s doctors.  “Are you sick?” he asked.  “No, I just go to talk about my feelings.”

We then drive to the appointment, which took about 30 minutes thanks to 3:30 PM traffic (WTF!?!), and–after a brief stop at Payless in which mom-mom got some awesome slipper shoes that are oh-so-cozy–we went into the building where my therapist is.  “We’re just going to walk up these stairs, and all the way down the hall,” I explain.  “How do you feel?” he responds.  How do I feel? “You mean, what am I going to talk to my doctor about?”  He nods his head.  “Oh, I feel pretty good, I guess.”  (And I do.)

Later, on the way home, after a backseat exclamation of “This is fun!” (“It is? I’m glad you like it…”), he says, “I want to hear that ‘I can’t stomp’ song.”  I think for a minute, trying to come up with a kids CD that has song about stomping on it.

“The What Song?” I stall.

“The ‘I can’t STOMP song!'”

“Ohhhhhh…. the “I can’t stop song…?”

“Yeah. I can’t stomp.”

So, I find Ratitude, pop it in, turn it up, and sing at the top of my lungs all the way home, grateful for a kid who likes Weezer and those times when, really, my life is a party I don’t want to leave.  Did I forget to mention we’d also picked up cupcakes?

 

Working it out/Eavesropping 2010/09/03

Henri at Play

H: Listen, bugs. You better get outta here. You’re going to get a big time-out from your mommy.

*What can I say? We have a fly problem.

*

H: Are you a BIG boy or a little, little boy?

*I swear; I have never, ever, ever said those words!!

*

Henri at Breakfast

{ignores me for a long time, like 3 minutes or something}

H: You’re working on your ‘puter and You’re Going to Pay Attention to Me When. You’re. Done.

M: (thinks) I love you.

 

I foresee problems in our communication… 2009/11/21

Not for any reason other than that we’re human, of course.  Therefore, I’m saving the following saying in my back pocket, just in case I ever need it:

“…he who doesn’t listen to the word of the fathers [AKA, the mothers, since we all know the fathers do/say what the mothers tell them to] will become a thief and will die through the words of a thief and will become impoverished through the words of a thief.”

And this (as a back-up’s back-up):

“Parents talk to their children.  In this way they bring up the children…But if the child doesn’t listen, then the father and the mother will neglect it and it will not grow up. It will not find anything. It will not collect anything. It will not have children and will not marry any woman.”

–Baldambe (‘Father of the Dark Brown Cow’) found onEchoes of the Past

It sure sounds better than “If you lie, God’ll cut your tongue off,” which was all I had in the Scary Warning Department until finding this gem!

 

karma 2009/08/27

Filed under: channeling anne sexton,laptop parenting — lee lee @ 2:54 pm
Tags: , , , ,

so…a couple of weeks ago, henri poured a gigantic pitcher of water on my laptop, and i admit: i got pretty angry with him.  in my defense, 1) it wasn’t an accident and 2) it wasn’t an accident.

but today, i spilled a (mostly-empty) glass of water on (only a small portion) of my computer, and–of course–he was right there watching.  “uh-oh!” he says.  but i know what he’s thinking.  cool! mommy pours water on her computer, too! so, she must not have cared that i poured water on it!!  that means i can do it again!!!  wheeeeeeeeeee…

stupid karma. what was i supposed to do? *not* get mad when he doused my computer deliberately just because i wasn’t focusing my every moment/braincell on his little world!!!  boy, did i learn my lesson.