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September 20, 2012

Life has been inexplicably weird but then again, so is our son.  So in an effort to feel more normal I am taking an abnormally calm moment that I found today to document some of his relatively recent “Thomasisms”.

Nonie

My aunt was here helping us out for a couple of weeks.  We call her Nonie.  She has been Nonie for at least twenty years and there has never been a child to suggest an alternate name for her.  One night she was putting Thomas to bed.  He looked up at her with his big lashy eyes and said, “Nonie, I will call you Naan Bread.”  Creative, and how proud am I that my son knows what Naan is!

“Nonie, why are you looking at me like that?”  “Like what?”  “Like perturbed.”

Dreams:

Batman is a big deal to Thomas these days, which is funny since he has never seen a Batman movie.

One morning he woke up and my mom asked him what he had dreamt about. “I dreamed about you grandma. (sigh, adroable)…and batman.”

Alternate reality 

“Tommy, what did you dream about last night?”

“I had a scary dream dad.  I dreamed that my mom and dad got shot by a bad guy.  But then I became batman.”

“Oh, Tommy that is a scary dream, I am sorry.” (Mental note to dispose of new book about Batman that grandma brought)

“No dad it was a good dream because I got to be batman.”

“Oh.” (Over whelming feeling of insignificance and unimportance)

And here is the doosey.  Thomas had his first kiss.  I find this scary, disturbing, hilarious and ironic for many reasons.  But, here are some specifics from the mouth of the maker-outer…

“Her name is Malulu, she is African.  She kept saying she wanted to kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.  There is another boy that loves the girl but the girl doesn’t love him, she loves me.  He thinks that she loves him but she doesn’t.  She asked me to kiss her because one day when I was going down the slide.  I jumped on the top and did sixty-seven flips down to the ground and now she liked me.”

“Where did you kiss her? “ I ask.

“It was a nice and quiet place.”

We had a long discussion about how we don’t kiss people on the lips until we are grown up.  And all the things a parent should and would say in this situation.  We made particular mention and instruction as to the fact that knights only kiss fair ladies on the hand…ONLY.  He insisted he needed to wear a bow tie to school so he could kiss Malulu on the hand. 

The result of instruction and costuming: 

“Did you kiss Malulu on the hand only today?”

“No, I did all three places.”

“WHAT???”

“She said I had to kiss her on her hand, cheek and lips and then she said she would be my girl friend.”

Insert lengthy conversation about not having a girlfriend until you are much, much older.

“But mom, Malulu is my teacher’s kid.”

“Ah, so you are worried about your academic future and the Dream Montessori Kindergarten” and the consequences of a spoiled liaison with your teacher’s daughter.”

“Yeah.”

One more story…regarding Bernardo, Ronaldo, Nard dog…Tommy’s best friend.

Upon my return to Zambia I asked if his mother had had her baby. 

“Yes.”

“Oh that is so exciting.  Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Boy.”

“Wow, a baby brother, just like you wanted!  What is his name?”

“Nothin’.”

“Oh he doesn’t have a name yet?”

“No, Nothin’.”

“What?”

“Nothin.”

(Light bulb) “Oh, Nathan!  His name is Nathan!”

(Silent laughing for at least an hour.  This seems to be a theme with this family: names that are seriously mistaken by non-Zambian English speakers.)

And, because I prefer blog posts with pictures I give you....Cali Ann.  Pictures of her give my soul relief...no bumps, bruises, scars, bandages or braces...just a bumbling baby girl with one small dent on the side of her forehead.  I am continually amazed that she is so unscathed from it all.