Cooking with Lucas

Lucas asked that I make Sausage Kale Soup this weekend.  I told him that I would make it, but he would have to help since I had just made a pot of it last weekend. I also want to teach him about the time and effort that goes into cooking. It’s not a difficult soup, but there are a fair amount of steps involved. It’s not just a toss-everything-in-the-pot-at-once type soup. Last night, as I left for Safeway, I asked Lucas if he had any final requests from the store. I expected ice cream.  His reply was, “Yeah, a whole chicken.” The kid loves to eat.

This afternoon we were at the counter ripping up the kale. He told me that this soup would be the best I’ve ever made. I agreed and told him it has to be the best because he was helping me. We went on to talk about how much love goes into a good home cooked meal. After a few moments of silence and kale sizing, he turned the conversation to something he seemed to feel very strongly about. 

Lucas:  Do you know what a Commando App is?
Me: Nope.
Lucas: Really? I do.
Me: Then why did you ask me?
Lucas: Oh, I just wanted to quiz you. I’ll tell you what it is.  A Commando App is an App somewhere in your room. And you hear a voice telling you not to wear underpants. I know because I’ve heard it before. I didn’t listen because I had to wear pants because I was going to school. You can’t wear pants to school without underpants. OH MOM! Get it? UNDERpants?!

Even though he was an enthusiastic assistant chef; he was a bit too confident and didn’t want to concern himself with my kitchen warnings. I kept telling him not to overreach for things and to move his stool with him around the kitchen. When I asked him to grab the spatula for me, he hoisted himself onto the counter and reached across the unlit portion of the stove, hurting himself in the process. “FUHFUHFUHFUHFUCK”
Me: What did you say?
Lucas: Oh! Sorry.
Max (yelled from the other room): DID YOU JUST SAY THE F-WORD? My God.
Lucas: Mom, I am so sorry. Sometimes when I hurt my tummy, I say ‘fffffff’ and if it still is being hurt I’ll say ‘uuuuhhhhh’. I don’t know what happened the ‘ccckkk’ came out of nowhere.

When I told him to leave the can of hot bacon grease in the sink because it would burn him, he thought he should grab it right away to see if it was warm. Of course he burned himself and dropped it quickly.  Seconds later, I suggested that he keep his face away from the open food processor bowl that was full of freshly chopped onions.  Then I turned around and saw him holding his face with eyes shut tight. Understandably, this is where I lost my assistant. He did help tremendously up till that point and the soup might be the best ever.  

Talent Show

 When Lucas voluntarily signed up for the talent show at the end of January, I never thought that when it was over I’d be saying that “he got through it”. The boy is so fearless, confident, and stoic that it’s hard to imagine that anything could rattle him. This would be a breeze for him.

Unfortunately, since signing up, Lucas had been sick more than he’d been healthy. The last two weeks before the show he had flu. It was only the night before the show that he stopped spontaneously falling asleep at daycare and the moment he hit the couch at home.  The first few weeks he and Mike were able to push through the coughs and sniffles to work on a routine. Mike edited a few of Luc’s favorite songs together and they were watching Beat Street for inspiration. It really was cute. They went to the first rehearsal together. All of the kids in the show, along with the parents working on the show, loved Luc’s routine and song selections. Mike said that the kids freaked out when he started dancing to Party Rock by LMFAO. Luc loved the cheering and applause. He looked forward to every rehearsal and was very excited about the performance.  Then once the flu settled in, he was down for the count. He had no energy to practice at home and missed several rehearsals.  Yet he didn’t seem worried at all, until the evening of the Talent Show.

Since there would be little time between Mike and I getting home from work and the show starting, I brought home Pho for the family. I knew this might not be the best idea for Lucas. Who wants sloshy soup tummy before they dance? But I figured he could eat a little beforehand and finish the rest after the show.

When I got home he was laying slightly frozen on the couch complaining of a tummy ache. I asked him if he was nervous about the show. He insisted that he wasn’t and told me that he might not be able to eat the soup because he had too many snacks. Snacks never interfere with his meals. He eats until he pops, when he is healthy. He ran off to the bathroom to rid himself of snacks. He came back out holding his belly and looking miserable. I asked him what all he ate. Looking ashamed he informed me that he had baby heirloom tomatoes, pickles, and two pudding cups. YUK! After I thought for a moment, it occurred to me that he eats when he is bored; why wouldn’t he eat a bunch of weird junk when he is nervous? I didn’t reprimand him, since he was already suffering. 

For the next hour and half a cycle of misery on the couch, misery at a bowl of Pho, and misery on the toilet played out. During this time he seemed so distant and worried. I explained to him that it was fine to be nervous and I would love to help him through it but I needed him to be honest about what was going on, so that I could help him properly. With a little resignation he said, “Fine, you want to know what else I had to eat? I drank some chocolate syrup out of the bottle. It was a really bad idea.”  Dear god! That is just gross. Again, I didn’t say much about it. I agreed with him that it was a bad idea. I also told him that he needed some perspective, “If it truly was the snacks you ate and not your nerves, then you need to tell yourself that you have pooped 4 times in the last hour and there is nothing left in your belly that is bad. If you get up on stage and your tummy starts to bother you, tell yourself that you have already used the bathroom plenty and in 2 minutes you’ll be off the stage and can go to the bathroom if you still feel bad. Just 2 minutes Buddy.” He listened and said comforting things in return to make me feel like I was helping. It was sweet that he was thinking of me. I knew that wasn't helping him much.

Then Mike got home. Dad, the B-boy catalyst, was trying to get Lucas hyped up for the show while he was reheating his own dinner. Lucas became very wide eyed and started doing what I can only describe as Lamaze breathing.

Oh, my little sweetheart. By the time he was one year old, I had taught him to use deep breathing techniques to calm himself down. At that early age I could tell that he was very quick tempered. Whether it’s caused by anger, pain, frustration or sadness, I have never had any desire to compete with people’s irrational emotions. Yes, I know, he was just a baby. Is there a better time to teach your tiny beautiful human how not to be an asshat? You can’t wait too long or you’ll miss the boat. Don’t worry; he always gets plenty of Mama’s love and affection. But his ability to calm himself down really helped teach him that he is in control of his own emotions. Once he was calm, we could talk out whatever he might be upset about, or kiss the boo boos & check for broken bones.

But this wide eyed Lamaze breathing was different. This was stemming from pure nervousness. I had never seen it in him. I’ve seen him embarrassed a few times, but never nervous. “Yeah, maybe I am a little nervous.” Mike and I both swooped in to calm him down.  Mike quickly went over the routine with him, in the most light-hearted-it-aint-no-thang sort of way. I reminded him that he had performed for all of these kids several times and they loved it. The only difference about that nights performance was that their parents would be there watching; who cares about a bunch of stinky adults? I also reminded him that Daddy gets a little nervous before every Poor Man’s War show.  It’s perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of. The crazy breathing calmed a bit and Lucas was smiling again. I kissed the top of his head and left to find his shirt.

When I got back with the shirt I saw that the Lamaze breather was back. I knelt down in front of him so that I was at his eye level. I got the shirt ready to go over his head and while putting it on I softly said, “You will be just fine. You have star power. And Dad and I will be there cheering you on. You really have nothing to worry about.” The Lamaze breathing stopped completely. He quietly said, more to himself than to me, “Man, you know how to find everything inside of me.” I smiled and got a little teary. “What does that mean?”  He leaned in close so that only I could hear, “It’s both of you.  Dad inspires me to try things and you always say the right words to keep me going.” I was stunned! That was positively GOLDEN! I swear sometimes I don’t know how I got so lucky.

The show was entertaining but lengthy. Lucas was scheduled to go on in the middle of 30 other acts. A few of the performances were very good. Sadly, it was only during the very good bits that the microphones shorted out. I was thankful that Lucas was dancing and did not require a mic.

He confirmed after the show that nerves did get the better of him before he went on.  He ended up abandoning almost his entire routine. But he freestyled it and wholeheartedly did his best not to overdo it with the splits and his favorite flips. Considering, that he had been sick for a month and was dealing with hefty preshow jitters, I’d say he rocked it.

When we got him home, he was glowing and bubbling over with so much confidence that when Max asked him if he had been nervous, he acted shocked and appalled. Then he dove right into his bowl of Pho and considered what a relief it was not have to worry about the show any longer.  “Now I don’t have to think about what I’m going to wear, or when I have to be at rehearsal. I can just relax.” Who knew? I didn’t realize it was weighing on his mind that much. I should have though. He is my son and always needs to have every detail of his day repeated to him until he has it memorized. I asked him if he would be in the talent show next year, and he quickly responded, “NO! And I’m not dancing for a while. Like a couple of months.”

A couple of months came to an end last night, only 13 days later, at the skating rink. It was the end of the night; he was drenched in sweat, overly exhausted, and had just been sobbing because he couldn’t “see his shoelaces”.  The main lights went out and the disco lights came on with Party Rock. He was up on his feet instantly; the whole time checking to see if the people nearby were enjoying the show.  

Sushi and the Meaning of Intercourse

Lucas munching on Safeway sushi randomly asks:  Hey Mom, what’s those things that keep your poop in? Intercourse?

Me:  I’m not sure what you are referring to. But intercourse is sex.

Lucas (eyes wide): What?! That’s disgusting.

Me:  Lucas, sex isn’t disgust---

Lucas:  Oh man. I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Me: So I guess we haven’t talked about where babies come from yet.

Lucas with a mouthful of sushi:  Oh my GOD! You mean that you had to have sex with Dad just to get me here?! OH GOD! That means that I’m made of SEX!!! THAT MEANS THAT EVERYONE IN THE WORLD IS MADE OF SEX!!!!! …..(swallows sushi)......I can’t wait to tell Ben & Evan.

Lucas has finished his sushi and is sitting across the table from me, working on his homework.  I’m trying not to giggle while I type and re-read. He does not know what I'm working on. He never knows. 

Lucas:  What’s so funny?

Me:  Nothing.

Lucas (with a giant grin):  Does it involve THE PENIS? 

Muppet or a Man

Lucas just sang Muppet or a Man for me. He told me that he has been practicing it and asked if I thought it was good or real good. I told him that it was real good, because it was. Then he asked if I thought he was a good dancer and singer. I told him that I think he is very talented and I feel so very lucky to be his Mom because I get to watch his talent grow everyday.  As true as this statement was; I really thought nothing of it. It was just a simple fact and was not any type of a revelation for me. I say things like this all the time. Lucas, on the other hand, loved it. He was beaming when he said, "You are such a good Mom. I'm lucky to be your Son because you are so supportive." My goodness! I thought it was my job to help build his self esteem. People tell me that I'm a good Mom. And no matter how much I doubt myself, I know that I do a pretty good job. But to get such specific praise directly from the person you work for is the best! Especially when the person is a tiny human who is not even eight years old. I don't know, maybe it's normal for kids his age to be so expressive and articulate? It always surprises me. He is such a joy. I'm really looking forward to seeing who this boy turns out to be.

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.