Life with PJ is exciting.
Every minute of the day, he’s doing boyish things – many of which are gross and/or annoying. Like when he accuses our minivan of farting EVERY TIME we drive over rumble strips. To him, all the napkins, paper towels and toilet paper in this house are just options – not necessities. (There are more specific examples, but I’ll spare you…)
PJ will turn 10 years old next month. He’s at the peak of his boyhood.
And yet, he’s so curious about life as an adult.
- Last month, he tried to shave in the shower and cut himself right under his nose. He ended up with a Band-Aid mustache that weekend.
- He prefaces many things with “When I’m a man“. He’s got big plans for cologne, cars, and ladies. (Nothing about an 80-hour-work week, mind you.)
- Last night, he had his first case of heartburn and he thought he was going to die. He was so miserable. He asked me if Dad ever cried when he gets heartburn. I said “yes” hoping it would make him feel better about his own tears.
Indeed, PJ has a tender heart. He is also very direct. And, that combination of candid compassion can sometimes be oddly shocking. In the same way that 2-year-olds can probe into areas well beyond their years, PJ will charge headlong in places angels fear to tread.
Last night, as I’m sitting up with him in bed (’cause there’s no laying down with heartburn), he tearily assured me he would attend my funeral. He also vowed to make me a grandmother. Uh…thanks?
Today, he was on an urgent mission to find a journal or diary. Emma found an extra notebook for him and he squirreled it away up in his room.
Thinking that was the end of it, I was surprised to find it laying on the kitchen counter after getting John home from school.
And, to this 43-year-old Momma, (who fell asleep sitting up next to that boy around 2am), it’s a classic example of life with PJ and positive proof he’s still my sticky, sweaty, loving little boy… for now.