Here I am with someone who is very dear to me and who is able to elicit all sort of emotions from me.
We all know what Lactacyd is. You know Lactacyd, right? Raise your legs if you know.
But in case you don’t know, this is Lactacyd.
Yes. Lactacyd, the feminine wash. That’s what I’m talking about.
I’m treading dangerous ground so okay, I’ll be careful.
One night, while I was talking with my son, he suddenly muttered.
“Lactacyd. For the va–”
Okay there was no pause. But I honestly held my breath for few seconds after the word “Lactacyd” came out.
Every cells in my body were listening to what he’s about to say next. Muscles, all tensed.
“…For the va-dy,” he finished.
One… Two… Three seconds.
Va-dy? Did I miss something?
Boy. Book. Band. Bag. Ball. Bad. Bbbbbb. Ba-be-bi-bo-bu. I’m sure he knows his B. I heard him enunciate Bs correctly.
But va-dy? Is that a new term or is there a new part now called va-dy?
“Lactacyd. For the va-dy.” That night, I left it at that.
Va-dy ha! Maybe I should start teaching the proper names of the Body Parts. Hmm? Tsk.Tsk.
I’m thankful that I’m alive, awake -busy but enthusiastic.
I’m thankful that my son knows how to say “thank you” even to the cats.
I’m thankful that when he’s not at his best behaviour, he’ll always tell me “I’m sorry.” Sometimes, with a trailing “It’s okay, Mama” - which tell me that making a mess really is okay.
I’m thankful that God is telling me what needs to be improved with myself thru my son.
For more of Thankful Thursday participants, please visit Iris.
Girl’s eyes.
I heard my son say one morning. He was playing on the floor with our clothes while I was on the bed with my back turned to him. (By playing, I meant that he dug all our clothes out of the cabinet).
Girl’s mouth. As if in gentle exploration. My interest was sufficiently piqued. But still, I was unwilling to move a muscle to check what’s going on.
A cat was meeyawing outside and Matt stopped on his tracks.
Matt: Ket -crying.
Me: Oh yes. Why is the cat crying?
Matt: Looking for Mama.
Me: Why, where’s his Mama?
Matt: Working.
Ouch.
Child psychology. Now you have a fair idea what I deal with everytime I go to work because dear son is in this very cute stage of wanting no one but Mama. It’s heartbreaking. And everytime, I’m torn between needing to take further steps away and wanting to just.Stay.There. Just stay home.
Remember my apple picking adventure in my son’s nose? Now, I only get on with that because I know it works in making him sleep.
But I’ve been looking for other ways. Because I thought to myself if this goes on for - let’s say, two years minimum. That would be 365 days multiplied by two. And how many times in a day do I do that? Two, each for approximately 5 minutes. Now calculating, that would be total of 7300 minutes.
Seven thousand minutes! At that time, I’d have made something on his face. Really. I’m sure I’d have dug a well on his face by then. Que horror!
So I gotta to find a way- fast. And after few experiments, I found the way. An obvious one.
“Mama, want tickle my nose. Pleeeease.” And off I tickle the tip of his nose - in. a. gentle. rythmic. motion.
^^^o^^^
I know this is so late. Anyway, last week’s Carnival of Family Life was hosted by Modern Sage Online.
