Warning: content that only a mother could love. If you’re squeamish, STOP READING. I said STOP! All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Griffin, the 4-year-old, woke up in the middle of the night (the reasons for that are a story for another post) with the flu. He informed me he needed to go to the bathroom, and once he does, let’s just say it is very apparent that he has diarrhea. A lot of it for such a tiny body actually.
In the brightest cheerfullest voice without a hint of irony or sarcasm, this is his observation on the state of his digestive tract:
Oh, that’s great! That’s so faster!
Now there is a kid who knows how to look on the bright side of life.
If I were a muppet, I would be Beaker. I’m not saying that would be my choice, I’m just saying if I were to fall through an Enchanted-esque magical hole and re-surface on the other side in some kind of Muppet World, Beaker is who I’d show up as.
Poor Beaker. He knows that whatever that kook, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew (admittedly, Dr. Honeydew is sometimes played by me in some kind of crazy one-woman show) is cooking up is going to blow up right in Beaker’s face. And then Beaker has to run around with his hair on fire, shrieking in his singularly inarticulate way.
I know, you’re thinking, “Hmmmm. Christina’s a performer, why wouldn’t she show up as Miss Piggy?” Sadly, I lack her chutzpah and confidence in her ability even the times when all evidence runs to the contrary. At my first voice squeak or line fumble, I give it all up for lost. No really, you go. You’re way better looking, sound better, better actor.
Nope, for better or for worse, I’m Beaker.
Actually, on a good day, I might be a little Kermit-y–a dreamer, a little bewildered by all the crazies that seem to surround him (not you of course), trying to run his little show all the while dealing with snipers in the balcony and fragile egos backstage.
If you were to fall through the Enchanted-esque hole into Muppet World, who would you show up as?
Here’s the deal. I’ll add the pictures to this post as I get comments claiming a muppet character as your own.
Update 1:
Colleen claims the Yip Yips. In honour of your own computer woes. You have to watch this just to see the yip yips bring a little offering to the computer. Classic!
And also Gonzo. Maybe you can hypnotize your children instead of the chickens:
Update 2: And now Sarah claims Sweetums and the Swedish Chef
And also notes that there is a little Animal in all of us:
SERENE! My favourite Animal sketch of all time…
I notice a trend towards “I’m a lot of this muppet but also a little of this one.” Interesting.
Update 3: Jamboree claims Cookie Monster (and only Cookie Monster):
Update 4: A late player, but always welcome. Ian chooses Beaker (yay! another Beaker), but also a little Fozzie Bear.
Fozzie Greets You
There’s no test to verify your choice Ian. You get to choose and that is validation enough.
I don’t know what that is, but I think I should get on that. Maybe I need to insupe our wading pool and the slip and slide.
I’m not sure why, but it makes me envision motorboats and sailboards hanging out in a jail cell somewhere waiting for their disappointed parents to post bail.
It would seem that Griffin has an imaginary friend. His name is Fred. Today I witnessed an entire argument with this imaginary friend who was holding Griffin’s arm so that he couldn’t drive his trike in a straight line.
I am ecstatic.
Let me explain. (Because I do love explaining.)
During Emma’s autism assessment, the age they were most interested in was the year between 4 and 5. They are checking for a few key things, one of these things being imagination. Did she play pretend? Did she play house? Did she like dressing up? Would she endow a doll as her baby and play Mom? And that is when I could really see that she played pretend a little, but nothing as elaborate as the pretend games I see other kids playing. And an absent or impaired ability to play pretend is one of the markers of autism.
So, now that Griffin is at that crucial age, I am anxiously looking for the things that I didn’t know I should be watching for with Emma. I mean, really, who knows what causes autism (I know theories abound, but let’s leave that for another day) but it IS known to run in families. So, today, there could not possibly be a parent who is more excited than I am to see the surfacing of an imaginary friend.
4 years ago we sent out the following announcement:
Christina and Lloyd are pleased to announce the birth of our third child — a son — Griffin Arthur Peter, on Tuesday June 22nd at 3:24pm.Griffin was 8lbs, 4 oz and measured 20.5″ in length.Mom and son are home from the hospital and doing well. Sister and brother Emma and Calvin are excited by the new baby in the house and are learning the fine art of fetching stuff for the baby.
Here’s the pictures we sent:
On Sunday, Griffin turned 4.
His name is a conglomeration of grandparents:
Griffin is my paternal grandmother’s maiden name
Arthur is my paternal grandfather’s first name
Peter is the first name of an adopted grandfather, a neighbour who became such a close family friend, that he really did become like an extra grandfather.
All had passed away before Griffin was born, my grandfather Arthur, most recently, when I was about 8 months pregnant with Griffin. So, there was the family honour thing, but also, I wanted a name that spoke of strength, since he hung on through what appeared to be a threatened miscarriage and then my kidney stones in the second trimester, (probably the result of all the antacids I had to take during his first trimester).
This is Griffin at 1
This is Griffin at 2
3
And just a couple of weeks ago:
Griffin is all-boy. He loves cars, trucks, diggers, dump trucks, planes, boats, trains, motorcyles, blocks, and balls.
We still have a great routine, where someone says something like:
See you later, alligator
To which he replies
I not alligator. I Griffin.
(It’s only lately he’s been able to add the ‘r’. It used to be pronouned Giffin). And this game is good for dude, sir, mister, or even big boy.
He’s got spirit (often known colloquially as a temper).
He’s shy, particularly if you’re female and good-lookin’ (refer to point 1).
He is very loving and will often give compliments to others (and himself too). The other day he said to me “Mom, you’re a good singer.” And this coming from the kid who usually covers his ears when I sing, just melted my heart.
He loves visiting his friends, Lily, Lauren, Blaise, the kids at his daycare and anyone who happens to be there at the childminding centre at the Y.
He loves his family particularly his big brother Calvin and his cousin Patrick. These must be included in the good-night song.
I chanced upon an old friend a couple of weeks ago. I mean we know each other from a ways back, not that either he (or I) are old. He, (too bad for him come to think about it), asked how my family was doing and that question came just when I’d crossed over the line between when I couldn’t talk about my daughter’s asperger diagnois and when I really NEEDED to talk about my daughter’s asperger diagnosis. So I talked. And talked. To his credit, he’s a great empathetic listener, and never once looked at his watch.
He told me that he had a niece with Aspergers and a couple of nephews with ADHD. I was curious. “Does this kind of thing run in your family?” I asked.
Well, this is how my sister puts it. “There are two kinds of people in the world: diagnosed and undiagnosed.”
There is so much truth in that.
So, which one are you–diagnosed or undiagnosed? And if you’re undiagnosd–what are you undiagnosed with? C’mon, ‘fess up.
Another good one from my Griffin-man. Two good stories in less than 24 hours–this kid is a gold-mine!
I must back up a little to give some context. Yesterday, we worked on some colouring pages. He was so pleased with his work he wanted to take his masterpieces to show his ‘teachers’ at daycare. This morning, while I was making his lunch, he was trying to figure out how to take these pages with him. He doesn’t take a backpack with him to school, so we didn’t have anything to put them in. Then, I got an idea.
Griffin, why don’t we fold them and put them in your lunch bag?
He looked at me with this incredulous expression on his face.
That is not good to eat!
The things we have to do to get a little more fibre in our diet.
I walked with Griffin to the park yesterday while he proudly rode his red tricycle. He’s getting quite good at getting around on his wheels. He probably triked over a mile on this little expedition. “I know, I so strong.” he concurs with me.
We arrive at the park at the same time as another mom and her son arrive. The boy appears to be just a little older than Griffin.
He has a yellow two-wheeler with training wheels.
They pull up to the Y intersection of the pathway at the same time. They stop. They eyeball each other’s set of wheels. Was that the revving of engines I heard? They peel off in different directions. Each going their own version of pell-mell.
The other half of Tentative Equinox–Tentative Equinox South
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Tentative Equinox North
Tentative Equinox 