Bedtime, Conversations

Oh he’s gonna kill me for this one someday…



Jack: Mom, please please stop telling everyone what you call me at home.

me: What do you mean? I don’t tell anyone that…

Jack: You told Grandpa on Sunday!

me: No, actually he guessed.

Jack: But you told him it’s the opposite of this and it sounds like that, so basically you just told him!!

me: But it’s cute!

Jack: It’s emBARRASing!

me: Everyone has nicknames you know.

Jack: Not like that! Can you just use it at home, and maybe just in the morning or something when I’m not really awake??

me: Okay I’ll try.

Jack: Do you promise??

me: Of course I do. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I love you and I just sometimes call you nicknames. It’s a hard habit to break. Plus you’re so cute.

Jack: Oh brother…

me: Okay time for bed. Get in there…

Jack: Do we have school tomorrow?

me: Who the heck knows. Can you hear that wind?

Jack: I measured the snow with my toothbrush and it almost went ALL the way up the handle!

me: Clever… Did you bring it back in?

Jack: Yeah, but it’s down in the basement because I was watching the movie while I brushed.

me: Sigh. Okay, all tucked in and toasty?

Jack: Yeah (big yawn) I’m tired.

me: Get some rest. Goodnight sweet cheeks. I love you.

Jack: Goodnight. I love you too.

me: (whew)

(hee hee…)


Red Spots at Night

Jack: Mom! MOMMMMM!

(I ran upstairs to see what was going on)

me: Are you okay?

Jack: My nightlight didn’t go on and then when I looked around it was all black and it all turned RED and I couldn’t make the red go away and it was really scary. (he starts to cry)

me: It’s okay. I’ll fix your nightlight. Maybe this disco ball thing lit up or something and that’s what you saw?

Jack: No, it was covering both of my eyes and I couldn’t make it stop!

me: Were you rubbing your eyes? Sometimes that makes weird colors appear…

Jack: No!

me: Okay calm down. I’ll stay with you for a little bit, okay?

Jack: Okay… Was that a lucimation?

me: You mean a hallucination??

Jack: Yeah. When will those start? Will I have those??

me: I don’t think you have to worry about it. You won’t have them.

Jack: Then why is it a word?

me: Some people have them when they take drugs or medication or are very sick.

Jack: I promise I didn’t take drugs or anything! Though I might need Motrin because my head hurts.

me: I know you didn’t take drugs sweetie. And it’s not a hallucination.

Jack: Can you look it up and see what it is? I don’t want it to happen again.

me: Of course. I’ll tell you what I find in the morning.

Jack: Throw my pillow on the floor before you leave. That’s how I’ll remember to ask you.


So I’ve spent the last half hour looking up red spots, and red vision at night, etc. There seems to be a lot of stories out there about people experiencing the same thing. This also seems prevalent in 5-8 year olds. Or that’s when it starts. Most of the children have color blindness, like Jack does. Most were premature, just like Jack. Most spots were accompanied by headaches, which his was. Most people live with it their whole lives without any other health problems.

Well, let’s hope this was a one time deal!


Not a creature is stirring…now…but you shoulda seen it earlier!

Jack is asleep. I will be in a few minutes. I might nod off as I’m typing this.

Earlier this evening:

It was about 7pm. Jack wanted to have a cookie for dessert. I looked at the clock to see how close to bedtime it was. I was about to say yes. Jack took my hesitation as a “no” and proceeded to have a little fit and walked over and hit me. Don’t you just love it!??

me: (oh I tell it straight up)…aaand, just for your information, I was just about to say yes to the cookie until you hit me. Next time please think about how you react.

Jack: (gasps in horror) Whaaattt??? But I’m sorrrrrryyyyyyyy!!! (he then flings himself on the floor in the most pitiful fit of crying that I’ve seen in weeks)

me: Maybe you’ll learn from this Jack.

Jack: But I’m sorryyyyyyyy! Can I have a cookie because I didn’t mean it? Waaaahhhhhhh!

me: No.

Jack: (cries and carries on for about 10 more minutes) But, but, but, you said you were about to let me!!!

me: Well that was about 10 minutes ago, and now it really is too late, so either way you’re not having one. Next time think before you use your hands on me.

Jack: Waaahhhhhhh!!! (much rolling around on the kitchen floor)

me: How do you think you would feel if I smacked you every time I was upset about something, huh?

Jack: (stops, gets up and charges at me)

me: Whoa! (I jump up and push him under my legs and he goes flying onto the rug). What the heck are you doing?

Jack: If I can’t have a cookie then I’m going to eat you! (He comes at me chomping his teeth like a mini zombie. I start cracking up)

me: Hey, get those chompers away from me!! (we wrestle to the ground) If you want to bite, here, bite yourself! (I feed his own hands into his mouth)

Jack: GAAHHhhhhhh!!! No fair. Must bite Mommy!

me: Must bite self! You’re so hungry for cookies that you’re eating your own wrists! How’s that taste!? (the cats run for cover)

We wrestle from the kitchen to the hallway and into the living room. He really was burning off some energy. I made him tickle himself and then I “play” spanked him for awhile until he was cracking up. I told him I was gonna tickle him until he peed. He kept trying to gnaw on me like a piranha. After awhile we both stopped, gasping and out of breath.

me: Okay, time out. (pant pant)

Jack: Still no cookie?

me: Nope.

Jack: Isn’t that my reward for not eating you?

me: Nope. Do you think you deserve a cookie?

Jack: No… But next time don’t keep me cooped up all day. I’m starting to lose my mind in here!



Bedtime, Conversations

I’m really sorry, but could you come back up here again!

me: Goodnight.

Jack: Goodnight!

me: (shutting door, going down two steps…)

Jack: MOM!

me: (back up) What’s up Jack?

Jack: My eye itches. Can I have a wet paper towel?

me: Sure… Here you go.

Jack: Thanks. Goodnight.

me: Goodnight. (I make it all the way down stairs)


me: Sigh! (up the stairs) What’s going on?

Jack: I’m sorry, but my bed’s wet from the paper towel!

me: Why did you… Sigh, here move over.

Jack: All you’re doing is putting another blanket on top of it?

me: It’s fine. Goodnight.

Jack: Sigh…goodnight.

me: (I make it downstairs AND into the bathroom)


me: (Ignore)


me: Grrr. (stomp up the stairs) Come on Jack, what’s up?

Jack: I’m really sorry! But I can’t find Stripey! I’m sorry!

me: It’s okay…sigh, here let me turn the lights on. Close your eyes.

Jack: (with his head under the covers) Where is she?

me: Oh I don’t know, move over again. (I shake out the blankets and she goes flying across the room). Here.

Jack: Thanks. I’m sorry. You sound mad.

me: Just tired that’s all. It’s okay.

Jack: (leaning over to see his clock) What time is it now?

me: Just go to bed!

Jack: All that back and forth and it only took 10 minutes. Not bad!

me: What are you talking about?

Jack: I usually make you go up and down for at least a half hour.

me: WHAT?? Are you kidding me?

Jack: Hahaha! I mean… SORRY!!!!

me: Goodnight!


When the kid’s right, he’s right

Jack wanted to read before bed. That means he wants to read his own book, while I read MY own book, while we both sit in MY bed. Then he tries to weasel his way into actually sleeping in my bed. It was a whole scene. Bambi eyes, the “I’m scared because I’m alone” story. Then he gets a mysterious stomach ache. I still told him “no” even though I toyed with saying yes. I have to pack for a short overnight trip to NYC tomorrow and I knew I’d be running around in the bedroom for a bit after he went to bed.

Therefore, after we finished reading, and Jack realized he had to go upstairs to his own bed, he got a bit cranky. He snapped his Encyclopedia Brown book shut and hopped off the bed.

me: All done with the book?

Jack: I closed it, didn’t I?

(nice huh?)

We headed upstairs and began the new routine of meds. It’s a chore. Jack has asthmatic symptoms that come out when he has a cold (he has a little one right now), or if he exerts himself too much, as in when he runs a lot. He also has some allergies (food yes, but also environmental) which make his breathing difficult at night. This kid has had a stuffy nose since he was 2 weeks old. Seriously. I pulled out the bag of goodies and I gave him the two different inhalers. Then I tried to open the allergy liquid bottle. The child-proof cap would not budge. It literally cut my palm. I muttered and cursed under my breath as I used more and more force to get the darn thing open.

me: (muttering some more) Why won’t this flarken thing open…GRRR…! Stinking child-proof cap lock!

Jack: Why do you get upset when something actually works?

(Wise old sage he is)


Are aliens real?

Now of course I’m going to say no. What would you say to a 6-year-old just before bed?

Jack: I’m scared of the dark again.

me: I thought you were okay with the nightlight and glowing planets on the ceiling?

Jack: That might be part of the problem. I’m worried about aliens.

me: Oh I don’t think you have to worry about something that isn’t real.

Jack: What about phantoms? Or phantom aliens?

me: Not real.

Jack: Why does my book talk about UFOs and the Bermuda Triangle then? Are they not real too?

me: I’ve never seen either of those things and I’ve been around a LONG time.

Jack: But the phantoms have the scariest face that’s sort of a ghost and sort of an alien.

me: Are you getting this from the Halloween catalogs that are piling up in the kitchen?

Jack: Yeah because why would they make a costume if it wasn’t of something real??

me: Just for entertainment of course! Did you see the human pizza slice costume?

Jack: (giggles) Yeah…

me: Do you think there are giant pizza slices wandering around the neighborhood?

Jack: Maybe? I mean, no. But pizza is a REAL thing. That’s what I mean.

me: Wait a minute. I thought you were Big Foot these days. So aren’t people afraid of YOU?

Jack: Oh yeah! I forgot. Ha ha!  That’s you just doing your Mom thing again!

me: (I pat myself on the back…) Glad I could help.

Jack: I guess they write about aliens just to mess with our heads.