My little mystery man

More than anything right now, I wish that I could put myself inside my children's heads, to see the world through their eyes. This is especially true with Johnny. If I had this experience I am sure that parenting this sweet, strong willed boy wouldn't be nearly as puzzling to me.

Here are the few things that I have figured out about Johnny:

I know that he loves to be silly. If he can make somebody laugh, he is the happiest boy in the world.

I know that he likes to spend time helping me in the kitchen.

grinding and sifting flour...
shaping loaves...
and washing dishes,
but I also know that he will probably never volunteer to peel an onion again.

I know that he likes to clean up messes...

and sometimes he will create a mess, just so he can have the joy of cleaning it up.

(This is a gallon and a half of water from a spilled humidifier.)

I am starting to realize that more than anyone else in our family, this boy needs routine and structure in his life. When it is missing (and it is missing often with me as a mom) he starts to feel down. So good-by unstructured days, and last minute planning, it's time to be the kind of mom I need to be.

Speaking of Johnny:

Because this blog is my substitute for a journal/scrapbook, I want to write this story down, just so I don't forget.

Last night, after telling Johnny a bedtime story, he started to cry. When I asked him what was wrong, he said "Do you remember that time I hit you with a book?" It took a minute but I did remember, it happened almost two years ago when Johnny randomly flung a book across the room and it just happened to hit me right between the eyes, I can't believe he still remembered. I do remember that I had a cut and a bruise between my eyes for about a week. I told him that I had completely forgotten about it until that minute. "But I still feel bad about it." I told him that I had already forgiven him and that he didn't have to feel bad about it anymore. I showed him how I would forget about it again by pretending to take the thought out of my ear, crumple it up and throw it away. Johnny asked "what if that thought were recycled into a bottle, and then you drank water out of it and the thought came back?" I told him, "I would only be thinking about how good it tasted." Only after this did he begin to smile again, I can't believe that he carried this around with him for almost two years--that boy!