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Pamela

Professional Human Being

I am approximately 35....ok, for sure 35 years old, with two beautiful spawn, ages 3 (drama daughter) and 5 (little tank), and a magnificant husband. I teach high school English, and have supposedly maintained my sanity in the process. I enjoy reading, lots of music, traveling and wine. That sounde...

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Lazy Sunday

NOT!

I had the bright idea to allow Freddy to have a friend over yesterday. We don’t normally “do” the friend over thing, simply because my children are nuts. Parks with strangers (kids, that is) are better. Church with Jesus is better. Anything is better than a bunch of 3-5 year olds running nasty wild in my house. Hopefully some of you know what I mean, and I’m not alone in the world. Add the fact that secret government name “Freddy” would rather stay home, play G.I. Joe, not be bothered by breathing people, hide in dark corners, turn down trips to the beach, etc., and you’ll see why my palace is sometimes not conducive to guests. (He also enjoys dressing up like an army sniper, complete with full face mask, patrolling the front lawn, thereby scaring away any potential drive-by friends.) Those that really know us know and love him,  are at this point accustomed to being frisked by my five year old. We also now hide the real handcuffs, so he can’t secure his grandmother’s arms behind her back while we’re gambling and boozin’ in Tahoe. Some friends and family still come over on purpose. But yesterday was a "new friend" day.

 I knew that secret government name "Sam" and my "Freddy" would get along as soon as I saw Sam standing in the middle of the soccer field, as a game was proceeding without him. Little boy legs and arms whizzed all around, red dust danced in the air, and there is "Sam". He won't move. He is finished, though the game is not. He is screaming at the top of his lungs. "WHEN IS THIS STUPID GAME GONNA BE OOOOOOOOOVVER???? I DON'T WANNA PLAY STOOOOOOPID SOCCER!!! I'M READY TO GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THIS IS STOOOOOOOOPID!!!!!" A boy that knows what he likes. Gotta get him and Freddy together! Where's the mama?

Long story short, after meeting Sam’s cool ass mom, I find out that he was diagnosed with cancer as a toddler. He has had numerous surgeries and hospital stints that have kept him away from other people, including his family, for extended periods of time. This treatment has stunted his growth, leaving my giant of a three year old to loom over him. (Dora REALLY is gigantic, as I am 5’9 and her daddy is 6’4. She really had no choice in the matter).  Sam pays no attention to this side note in the story of his life, and barrels through soccer practice, and the sea of 5/6 year olds, with zest and vigor. He is lovely.

He came over yesterday for his first ever play date. With Freddy. It was kinda crazy to say the least. With Sam not being allowed around people for the majority of his life, you can imagine that social skills are still “emerging”. Couple that with Freddy’s inability to cooperate with anyone or anything, and that was my lazy Sunday. I broke up 3 fights, cleaned up countless melted popcicles, mediated a trade between good and evil, and wiped 2 asses.... okay, 1 ass. My hubby took the other one. I can’t wait to do it again.