Home alone with the boy
I didn’t know which naughty thing to do first. Jump up and down
on the bed, like a very overgrown Kevin from the movie
”
Home Alone,
”
watch the Lifetime network all night, curled up in bed while
eating cookie dough from the ready-made tube or take a long bath,
followed by a pedicure and a facial.
Home alone with the boy
I didn’t know which naughty thing to do first. Jump up and down on the bed, like a very overgrown Kevin from the movie “Home Alone,” watch the Lifetime network all night, curled up in bed while eating cookie dough from the ready-made tube or take a long bath, followed by a pedicure and a facial.
The Husband was taking the weekend to act as chauffer to The Girl and part of her field hockey team to yet another tournament – this one, down south, in L.A.
As much as I enjoy our nearly constant family time, I found myself relishing the possibilities of nothing but Chinese pot stickers for dinner and leaving the dirty pan out until morning.
Saying my “goodbyes and be carefuls,” I felt a momentary twinge. That feeling like something was amiss already. I looked down and saw that something was indeed amiss. They forgot to take The Boy.
In actuality, they didn’t forget anything. The Boy was where he was supposed to be; right next to me. It was just me and The Boy; a little mother/son bonding. I resisted the urge to send him to bed at 4 in the afternoon.
Day 1: Mom and son have quality time shopping for flowers. Son doesn’t think this is so quality until we stop to get ice cream. More quality time, sorting and folding laundry. Fun, fun, fun.
Night 1: 10:00 p.m. – Hot, uninterrupted shower, can of Coke and laptop on couch.
10:30 p.m. – asleep with laptop on chest, lying on couch.
Day 2: Mom gets into the swing of things and takes son to the park to fly a Styrofoam glider with a loose left wing and have a picnic snack. We pretend branches are antlers and wear them on our heads and have pretend sword fights.
We check out the squirrel dens and imagine the Squirrel Army organizing and chasing us down until we surrender the can of almonds. Son tells Mom he thinks she’s a lot of fun. Mom’s day has just been made.
Mom brings son to birthday party. Two hours of bliss!
Night 2: Hot dogs for dinner on grill. Son in bed at 10:00 p.m. and Mom not too far behind.
There was no jumping up and down on the bed in a Home Alone moment. There was no cookie dough from the tube, in front of the tube. There was also no pedicure or facial. Just Mom and son having some fun together, one on one. Talking and learning about each other.
I learned that The Boy has little tolerance for teenaged boys tormenting squirrels in their dens, that he can store almost as many almonds in his cheeks as a real squirrel and that his weapon of choice in a pretend sword fight is his “Sword of Death.”
The Boy learned that to build a good fire, you need to use dry wood instead of wet, that I can almost make a basket out of dried pine needles and that not every bee is a Killer Bee, negating all the running and screaming.
I think for me, the most important lesson I learned was that being Home Alone isn’t as good as being Home with The Boy.
