War Sith

On April 18, 2007 I came home from work to find the following note posted on the front door by our eldest son. He was in the 3rd grade at the time. 

Constitution of Probability

We have the right to be free from school.  Always recess! Remember the Declaration of Independence says, “It’s a free country.”  We are free to have a secret stash. Help stop this war! They are fighting about stupid things. If you join the war I’m sorry then it’s war with me. If you join the war you are my enemy. If you take this paper down you are my enemy. Don’t you join war. Or you’re my arch enemy. You are sith.

Sincerely

Max A.

Grounded: Day 5 of 14

Max made his Mama proud yesterday. Mike had asked him to clean his room, which for Max usually means picking up his dirty clothes and that's about it. This time he cleaned his entire room! He cleared off his desk, dresser, & nightstand. He vacuumed, changed the sheets, & rearranged his bed! Crazy huh? There's more!
He straightened the bookshelves in the family room, put away the games & dvds, cleared off the side table by the couches AND the small catch-all-junk-counter in the kitchen that holds the house phone. He even wiped down their bathroom!All of this with only being asked to clean his room. He took initiative and it brought tears to my eyes. Was he hoping to get over? Yes. Did it work? A little.

He also voluntarily gave Luc a scooter lesson and attempted to boost little bro's confidence in balancing. 

I walked by a sick and miserable Lucas laying on the couch. I flashed him a reassuring smile in effort to tell him that he would be alright. Somehow, through all the sick fever grime, he managed to respond with his best school picture day smile. His face and eyes lit up so bright that he almost knocked me over.

Me: My goodness, Lucas's eyes are beautiful. 
Mike: You're welcome. 

It is true; none of my husband's wonderful qualities and talents were overlooked when my boys were created. I am forever grateful.

Is This Why I Don't Sew?

Lucas and I were just discussing a chair that we will be acquiring.
Lucas: It's all covered in cat hair, so we'll need to clean it.
Me: It's actually covered in tiny cat scratches. 
Lucas: Why don't we get sewing stuff and sew it up? 
Me: Because it's a large leather chair covered with tiny cat scratches. That's not your typical mending project.
Lucas: Oh. But you can sew paper. And napkins. And human skin. 
Me: WHAT?!
I was stunned! I suddenly heard "Goodbye Horses" in the distance and requests to "put the lotion in the basket."
Lucas: You know, when you have to go to the doctor and they loop up your cuts with a needle and string. 
REALLY?! What's wrong with me? Stitches are the obvious conclusion, but I go straight to the serial killer?

Me: Good morning, Sweetie!
Lucas: Good morning, Mama. He was cuddled up on the couch under the family's treasured Sherpa blanket. I sat down next to him, lightly put my hand on his chest, leaned over, and kissed him all over his face.
Me: Baby, you’re cold!
Lucas: No, I’m not. I don’t even feel anything.
Me: Your skin feels cold. It's winter. Shirts are your friend. You should try them once in awhile.
Lucas: I'm fine. It's probably because I’m almost eight and my blood is starting to turn cold.

Herxheimer

I’m trying to do a light system detox. Not too sure where I went wrong. If you were to ask my throat and tummy, they would tell you that I shouldn’t have eaten that gerbil that was covered in honey, flour, and alum powder then wrapped in barbed wire and deep fried. Seriously, it’s painful. Maybe it was the piles of candy for lunch or intentionally ignoring food labels. There has been too much rice in my diet, that’s for sure. Whatever it was, it’s my own doing and I need to clean up. The first few days are always the hardest. The cravings are maddening. I’m currently fluctuating between wanting roasted veggies, cookies, salami, hot lemon water, pesto tortellini, and liquid plumber. Thankfully, each time I detox, the Herxheimer Response (Candida die off symptoms) is less severe. I’m starting day 3 so it should get easier. More on Candida later.

Collaging in a Brave New World

This is fun. Sometimes useful. Often pointless. Always entertaining.

Drop Dead Eric

Around 6:00 this morning, I was curled up on the couch writing. Lucas came out from the bathroom and sat next to me. I could tell that he had something on his mind.

Lucas:  Do you want me to tell you a story?
Me:  Of course, I love stories!
Lucas:  There once was this boy named Eric. He was eating lunch and heard himself chew.  He thought, “Is my tongue attached to my ears?”  Then some bullies gave him a wet willy and a tongue grew out of each ear.  Then he had to live his life as some guy with ear tongues.

A few hours later, I was thinking about ear tongues and Eric. Eric felt familiar.

Me:  Do you have any more stories about Eric?
Lucas:  Yeah, maybe. I’ll have to check my dictionary.
Me:  You have a dictionary?
Lucas:  Yeah, it’s a story dictionary. I jump into it and ask Eric if he has any stories to share.  Then I jump back—“
Me:  Wait! ERIC?! Is this the same Eric that you introduced me to the other day?
Lucas (with a pleased smile):  Yes, Mom. He isn’t imaginary.

Over this last weekend, I walked into the family room and Lucas happily shouted, “Mama! Hug!” he threw his arms around me for a big ol’ squeeze.  It’s always nice to be greeted like that.
During the warmy warm hug, his attention turned towards the hallway. 

Me:  What are you looking at, Bud?
Lucas:  That.
Me:  What?

Lucas:  That. 
Me:  What?! The couch? The door? The paintings?
Lucas:  No. That guy.
Me:  What guy?
Lucas:  That guy over there. Eric.
Me:  Oh?  Is he a ghost? (Always a concern of mine with Lucas)

Lucas:  No, he is my imaginary friend. (He cracked a little smile and I could tell that he was putting me on)
Me:  Oh, I see.  Alright then, tell him to pick up after himself if he plans on staying awhile.

But today he was very serious and he felt the need to take Eric’s imaginary status away.
I really do like the Ear Tongue story.  I’d like to hear more.  Would I be encouraging something that I’ll eventually want to get rid of?  Is 7 ¾ years old too old for an imaginary friend to develop?  Or is this some sort of intentional creative front?