The Whoopie Cushion

I'm home. Long trip. I'm a bit exhausted by the jet lag still. I'm trying to keep caffeine pumped into my veins today. Italy was fantastic, and I'm sure I'll be writing about it in the week to come. I missed my kids terribly, though. We were gone for ten days, so that was difficult. More difficult than I expected.

I guess I missed my son especially. It's not that you don't love your children equally, but since he is three and can absorb the fact that we are missing, it makes it even more heart wrenching to hear him ask, "Mommy, Daddy coming home soon?" on the phone, and yet, not understand where we are.

When we were reunited with the kids upon our return from Europe to my parents house, Ian was thrilled to see us, which is an awesome feeling as a parent. That night as I put him to bed, I spent some time reading a book to him called "My Grandpa's Briefcase", which I got him for Christmas to read with my Dad. It's a cute briefcase shaped book with "interactive" type things in it like a shoelace to tie, cardboard glasses to take out and put on, etc. and describes the bond a grandpa shares with his grandchild. One page is a "humor" page and has a mini whoopie cushion on it. I was pretty tired since we had landed in Ohio the night before late from Italy and was jet lagged, and this really isn't a bedtime book. I really wasn't in any condition to prolong bedtime. Nevertheless, I knew Ian had never seen a whoopie cushion before, and I blew it up and pressed it. Oh my goodness...the laughs we had for ten minutes playing with that! Maybe it took a little while longer for us to settle into slumber, but we got a good chuckle out of it.

The next morning I was talking to my mom about it because she passed by our room that night when we were laughing hysterically. She was making a comment about how she knows someone who won't let her children use words like fart and poop (Don't ask me why? She feels it's inappropriate), and there probably wouldn't be whoopie cushions in that person's house. I found that strange. Don't get me wrong, there's a time and a place for that language if it gets out of hand. (Well, I guess, I don't understand how that person toilet trained her kids without using poopie or poop and to me asking my son if has to poop doesn't seem inappropriate...but I digress...) With my role as mother, too, Ian knows when he has pushed his limit.

But children are children. I think we need to let children be children and be goofy and laugh effortlessly. And having children...being with Ian the other night and laughing at silly sounds...reminded me of the past, present and future. It reminded me of my own childhood which I often forget, it reminded me to let go of my current worries and just embrace the moment and it reminded me to find other opportunities that require a very simple moment to interact with my child that could produce a lasting memory.

It often lies in the simple things.