All Hail to Thee, Miss Mayberry!

A couple of years ago I bought the Complete Andy Griffith Series ... NOT Mayberry RFD. Once Barney left, the show wasn't worth watching, so I think I could have lived with ordering the first three seasons. I didn't remember that when I was sucked in by Amazon's "Free Shipping Ending Soon!" But I digress ... as usual ...

During one episode in the first season, the town is celebrating Mayberry's anniversary. The main event is the Miss Mayberry Competition. The prettiest of the pretty, the smartest of the smart, the most talented of the ... well, anyway, you get the drift, the cream of Mayberry's crop.  The contestants all drove Andy - the Judge - completely insane for weeks with their eye batting and bursting into song whenever they would meet him on the street. In the end, though, amid all the bickering, sobbing women on stage, he crowned the little old lady who helped with the costumes as Miss Mayberry because she was the woman with "true" beauty. He brought her up on stage, hair disheveled, shoulders stooped, her face that of a wizened old crone and put the robe and crown on her. Everyone clapped. Floyd the barber sang the "Hail to Thee, Miss Mayberry" song he had written. Will turned to me when it was over and said "Mama, you're prettier than she is!" A tiny part of me died that day ...

Fast forward a few years ... last weekend Will and I were at the grocery store and outside the doors are the newspaper machines but also FREE local newspaper machines. Will likes to open the doors and get out a newspaper and then look through them to see if anything strikes his fancy. On the way home, he reads me HIS highlights - carnivals, local free movies, library events, iguanas free to good home, anyone in the obituaries whose last name matches ours. This day, however, something more intriguing caught his eye:

Will: Hey, Mama, this lady's name is Mrs. Indiana! And she lives in Indiana ... isn't that funny?!

Mama: "Mrs. Indiana" is a beauty pagent and that lady won. That's why they call her "Mrs. Indiana". She's the "Queen of Indiana".

Will: Oh. A beauty pageant? Why didn't you enter?

Mama: (chuckling) Well, Will, Mama is more of a "worker-bee" than a queen.

Will: Huh-uh...you are WAY prettier than this lady! I think you should enter!

Mama: Unfortunately, she already won, so the competition is over. Anyway, contestants have to wear a bathing suit and ... well, that's just never going to happen.

Will: You look nice in your bathing suit! It's so big and fluffy!

Mama: It's not so much the bathing suit that's big and fluffy, but thanks ... besides, I would have to travel a lot if I was Mrs. Indiana and I would miss you!

Silence from the backseat ...

Will: LIGHT-Buuulllllb! (courtesy Despicable Me) I'll go with you! Can children travel with the queens?

Mama: Um...no, I don't think so. I think that's against the rules. So see? Really, it's way better if I don't even enter. What if I won?! I have to work and who would feed the chickens? And who would snuggle you at night and tell you stories about our farm? No, it's better this way.

Will: I still think you should enter. You would DEFITTLY (his version of "definitely") win. You equals beautiful; this "Mrs. Indiana" (with a sarcastic sneer, curving his fingers into quotation marks, like they do in cheesy '80's movies) equals ug-o-rama.

Mama: Well, I'm glad you think so, that makes Mama's heart happy! We should call me Mrs. Indiana ... at home ... when no one else is around!

Will: OK!!

We got home and unpacked the car. I was putting groceries away when I saw the paper on the kitchen table. Curious to see this "ug-o-rama", I sat at the table & flipped open the paper to find a gorgeous, 26YO, blonde haired, green-eyed, 5'11, 97 pound beauty staring up at me. I started laughing hysterically ... Will came up behind me and peeked over my shoulder.  "I know", he said "can you believe SHE won? You're way prettier than she is!"

I grabbed him and covered him with kisses. I bet Heaven smells like a little boy's sweaty head.

The Best Laid Plans ...

So last October I started this blog...well, let me back up - this blog was actually created by a friend of mine - MAC - he's awesome and knows a lot more about computers than I do...he also has a mildly frightening, moderately unhealthy but totally understandable obsession with my hair. He probably figured that he could easily distract me from filling up his inbox with my blatherings by dangling this shiny blog in front of me. I suppose the fact that I didn't actually have the know-how or where-with-all to start my own blog should have been my first clue that I wouldn't keep up with it, but there you have it. I thought it would be great to document every second of Will's life with witty blog entries and pictures.

I have yet to post any pictures. This will be my fourth post in Will's going on 8 years of life. Pathetic? Perhaps. It turns out I'm much too busy living Will's life to blog about it. But as I DO want a running record of sweet little boy happenings, I vow to get back to it! Not the way I vowed to lose the baby fat. And not the way I vowed to get hand and footprints on the 7th day of every month since Will's birth - I have one, by the way, dated the 11th of January 2004, he was a month and four days old. At least I'm consistently remiss in my duties ... I have references, available upon request.

Last Friday Will and I went to see a 3D movie at the "Dollar Movies" - which turns out to be $3.75 for 3D movies after 4pm, but still, cheaper than the "Real Movies". We went to see "Pirates - Band of Misfits". Please don't let the name fool you into thinking it was a cute little kid's movie that should have been made ... it wasn't and it shouldn't have been. But Will enjoyed it and that always makes me happy.

We went to the latest showing as I don't get off work until 7:30 p.m. It was nearly midnight when the movie let out and we started driving home. I expected Will to immediately drop off to sleep, but he didn't ... we had a nice chat:

Mama: Well, did you like the movie?

Will: Yes, it was funny! But I didn't like the one stupid pirate saying Polly was a fat parrot! She wasn't a fat parrot!

Mama: Who?

Will: Polly!

Mama: Who is Polly?

Will: The DoDo bird.

Mama: Oh, there was a DoDo bird in the movie? (Apparently I hadn't paid very close attention)

Will: The whole movie was about the DoDo bird!! (Apparently I hadn't paid ANY attention)

Mama: Hmm, oh, that fat little duck the pirate captain traded to that one guy for that stuff he wanted to use for ... um ... something?

Will: She wasn't a duck, she was a DoDo bird. You should ask for your money back!

Mama: I don't think I've ever agreed with a 7 year old boy more than I do right this second!

Will: I don't feel like a 7 year old boy...I feel like a teenager...do I look like a teenager?

Mama: (looking in the rear view mirror) ... uhhhh ... no ... no, you don't ...

Will: Well, anyway, I feel like one, being out this late. Also, if I yawn, it's not because I'm sleepy. Do you want to know why I yawn?

Mama: Sure.

Will: Because then my tears surround my eyeballs like a swimming pool and make my eyeballs feel sort of like (at this point, he put his arms up over his head and "shivered" his whole body back and forth, back and forth, slowly, slowly) and then they get numb and then sort of wooooosh, like they stretched real big.

Mama: We need to get you home to bed!

Will: But I'm not sleepy. If we ever form a bowling team will you make us uniforms?

Mama: Um...yes, I PROMISE you if we ever form a bowling team, I will, in fact, make us uniforms!

Will: Does that mean we're never going to form a bowling team?

Mama: Why do you say that?

Will: You're using the sounding voice you use when something isn't going to happen. When we get home can you draw me a picture of Polly?

Mama: I'm not very good at drawing fat little duck parrots ...

Will: She's a DoDo bird!

Mama: Fine ... we'll see.

Seconds tick by ... I look up in the rear view mirror to see my tiny "teenage" boy fast asleep ... I freeze these moments in my mind ... 4 pound Will in the incubator at 3 days old with his right ankle crossed over his left knee, his hands behind his head, I whisper his name and he turns his head toward me and smiles in his sleep --- 20 month old Will being wheeled into the operating room to have tubes placed in his ears, he's so tiny in the enormous hospital bed wearing his itty, bitty balloon covered hospital gown singing "Twinkle Twinkle Yittle Star" with the nurse as she wheels him away --- 4 year old Will pulling his Thomas back-pack across the parking lot toward his first day of school --- 5 year old Will sobbing on my lap telling me he doesn't understand why I won't marry him when he grows up, "don't you LOVE me?!" --- on and on the scenes flood my mind ... nearly 8 years' worth of living ... so many memories, so little time to blog.

I wouldn't have it any other way!

Homework with a First Grader

I am a very patient person.  Well, I'm a patient person.  OK...fine...but I AM a person!  I love my son and I understand a 6-year-old's mind can only focus on something for so long.  After all, they aren't sophisticated like - hey, have you ever wondered if the hokey pokey really is what it's all about? Wouldn't that be something!  Where was I? Oh, right...well, so the following conversation took place at the kitchen table while I was helping Will with his homework tonight.

Subject: Spelling -

Mama: Come on, Will, your homework assignment is to "say-spell-say" your spelling words.  First word: clay.

Will: Clay - c l a y - clay.

Mama: Good job!! Next word: spray.

Will: Spray - s p r a y - spray.

Mama: Very good! Did you work on these today?

Will: No, I'm just smart.

Mama: Apparently...next word: gray.

(Does anyone else see a pattern here? OK, so we go through about a dozen "ay" words and two sight words "to" and "you" and start on the written part of the homework in the spelling book.)

Mama: OK, you need to fill in a word from your spelling list that begins with "pl".

Will: (writing) Plot - p l o t - plot.

Mama: (erasing) No, it needs to be from your spelling list, so it will end in the "ay" sound...try again.

Will: (writing) Play - p l a y - play.

Mama: Fine...now fill in a word from your spelling list that begins with "st".

Will: (writing) Stop - s t

Mama: (erasing - slightly more aggressively now) Nooo...it needs to be from your spelling list - remember, all the words in your spelling list end in the "ay" sound.

Will: Well, the sight words don't.  "To" and "you" don't end in "ay".

Mama:  Right...but the other ones do.

Will: Then you should say "most".

Mama:  While I see your point, I think we should just focus on your spelling words.  Next one, fill in a word from your spelling list that begins with "spr" - this one should be easy!!

Will: (writing) Sprout - s p r o

Mama: (erasing and slightly shrieky now) WILL --- are you kidding me? We just went through how MOST of the words end with the "ay" sound, didn't we?

Will: Yes, but not ALL of them.

Mama: RIGHT - but NONE of them end in "out"!!  Start again, please...

Will: (writing) Sproo - s p

I don't know where he gets it.  He's grounded from playing games on the computer...he's funny and also awfully cute, but he's grounded anyway.

The Case for Public Family Restrooms

The following conversation took place in a VERY busy public restroom when Little Man was about 3-years-old...I was speaking softly, he was not.  Four years later, I am able to see the humor...at the time - notsomuch...but here it is - astory that I hope the Lord  allows me to remember for eternity...enjoy...

Mama: OK, Will – turn around and face the door while mama goes peepee.

Will: So I don’t see your penis?

Mama: Shhhh…mamas don’t have penises, remember?

Will: What’s it called?

Mama: Vagina, but we don’t talk about things like this in public.  Let’s be super quiet now!!

Will:  Why do you sit down to peepee?  Because  your penis doesn’t reach?

Mama: Sweetie … shhhhhh!!!!  Mamas don’t have penises.  Hey!  Let’s see who can be quiet the longest…GO!!

Will: Does daddy know you don’t have a penis?

Mama:  You lose.  Yes, he knows.

Will: When I grow up will my penis fall off?

Mama:  NO!  Seriously…let’s be really quiet!!

Will: Are you pooping?

Mama:  No.  I’m going peepee.

Will: Why are you sitting down?

Mama: Shhhhh…

Will: But why are you?

Mama: Because ladies sit down to go peepee.

Wiping, standing, flushing…

Will: THAT – IS – POOPOO!!!!

Mama: No, honey, that’s not poopoo.

Will:  It looks like poopoo.

Mama: It isn’t.

Will:  What is it?

Mama: Well, sometimes when mamas don’t have a baby in their belly, then they have a little…

Will:  Poopoo?

Mama: NO…blood…shhhhhhh – we need to be quiet like at the library.

Will: Then why are people laughing?

Mama: Because this conversation isn’t happening to them!!

Will: So your bottom bloods?

Mama:  “Bleeds” … but it isn’t my bottom.

Will: Is it your jalina?

Mama: Yes … shhhhhh, please!

Will: Are you going to blood to death?

Mama:  I hope so!!  I really do...

A Conversation which compelled me to finally learn to blog....

I found a Certificate in my 7YO son's backpack labelled "King for A Day" - it had been nearly obliterated with purple crayon, but I could tell it HAD been something very special, dare I say prestigious?  I dared.  Anyhoo...it is little conversations like the following which cause me to BLOG. 

Mama: Will– what is this?

Will: That’s my King of the Day award.

Mama: Why were you King of the Day?

Will: What?

Mama: Why were you King of the Day?

Will: I don’t know.

Mama: WHEN were you King of the Day?

Will: I think Saturday.

Mama: No…it would have been a school day.

Will: Was Saturday a school day?

Mama: No … Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday are all school days.  Was it last week or this week?

Will: What’s a week?

Mama: WILL! When did you get this paper from Ms. Hale?

Will: I don’t know.

Mama: sigh…well, what did you do to earn it?

Will: I don’t know.

Mama: Why did you scribble scrabble on it?

Will: I don’t know.  I just started and couldn’t stop.

Mama: Why did you start?

Will: I didn’t know I wouldn’t be able to stop.

Mama: But why would you…never mind…(looking closer underneath the crayon scribble scrabble).  Hey, Will…do you know what this says? Why you got this King of the Day award?

Will: Why?

Mama: For SELF CONTROL!!!!