My little monkey

So, I have seen little Isabelle and she is completely beautiful, she doesn't look like a sqooshed blind mole rat like most new born babies. So, I have decided to commemorate this happy occasion by talking about. . .me. Or more specifically, about my baby. So this post is officially called:

Ten Reasons I love my Ethan

10) He is the most beautiful boy ever. Seriously. He has beautiful blue eyes and fair clear skin. His hair is slightly wavy and brown, and getting darker all the time. Someday he is going to be a real heartbreaker, I feel sure. I'm especially fond of his pointy little chin and his broad shoulders. He's adorable, and I make sure he knows it, too. I tell him so much that one day he asked if I would still love him as much if he weren't cute, and I said, no way, I could never love an ugly baby, I woulda had to send him back if he wasn't cute. See also: reasons I am a bad mother. But really. Look at that face. This is the most recent picture I have of him, so that's pretty much what he looks like right now.

9) He knows more about natural science than most adults. I'm not even joking. When he was very young, his favorite show was Magic School Bus, and it just went from there. There was a while where he absolutely wouldn't miss Nova. I think he's checked out every school library book about bugs, spiders, geology, weather, animal, plants, or any other natural science, not to mention the book case full of children's reference and science books in his room. He just eats the stuff up. When the tsunami hit Asia, he was there with an in depth explanation about tsunamis and how they work. He constructs little quizzes while we're driving, such as, 'Mom, true or false, the blue whale is blah blah blah.' Then I have to do some quick thinking and try to figure out the right answer so that he won't figure out that he knows more than me. I also have to struggle to repress my first response of, "How the hell should I know?"

8) He has opinions. And he's not afraid to express them, although he sometimes tries to do it tacfully. Which is impressive for someone who has me as a role model. When I was a kid, I was always doing and saying what I thought people wanted me to do and say, so I'm extremely happy that I seem to have not passed that on to my muffin. When he was in kindergarten, he saw a guy on Fear Factor with a mohawk and decided that he wanted a mohawk. Yes, I let my five year old watch Fear Factor. I didn't let him watch Barney growing up, though. I have priorities. But anyway, I put him off, thinking he would grow out of it, but 6 months later, he still wanted one, so, I got out the clippers and buzzed one for him. I think it's adorable, FYI. This is his first grade school photo. I picked out the shirt, but he agreed to it because it has a spider on the front. After about 7 months, he decided he was tired of having a mohawk because he didn't like the constant trims and the constant attention of strangers staring at him and telling him how awesome his hair is. Now he's all about easy upkeep. About an inch on top and shorter on the sides and back. No fuss, no muss. I keep trying to get him to grow it out and have a rock star hair do, but he wants nuthin to do with it.

7) He studied humor like he was working on a cure for cancer. He used to not get jokes. AT ALL. When we told jokes he would look at us with this serious look on his face and ask us to explain it. In depth. Then he started checking joke books out of the library, and he would go through and tell people a joke, and then analyze it with them. What does the joke mean? Why is this joke funny or not funny? Has it got layers? Can you tell it over and over or just once? Is it similar to this other joke? Then when he finished that, he started making up jokes and analyzing them the same way. He seems to have finally mastered humor. He can do sarcastic, sardonic, slapstick, straight out jokes, and even play on words. But the best thing is, he does sarcastic air quotes. And I swear on my mother's grave, there is nothing in heaven or on earth that is funnier that a child who understands and can properly apply the use of sarcastic air quotes.

6) He has sophisticated tastes. Of course he eats the normal kid things, like chicken nuggets, spaghetti, sloppy joes, chilly mac, but he also LOVES things you would never suspect. Like black olives. Can't get enough. Crab legs. Steak, rare and bloody. Chef Salad. Sardines. Lobster. Actually, there's a funny story there. One time when he was quite young, I'd say about three, we went to Red Lobster. The hostess asked him if he'd like to pet a lobster and of course he said yes. She fished one out and he petted it and watched it's antenna wave around and then he declared, "I want this lobster." She explained to him that a lobster isn't a good pet and he cut her short and said, "No, I want to EAT this lobster." So no problems with the circle of life then. That's my boy. Still can't get him to touch avocados with a ten foot pole. Crazy.

5) He wears what he wants. He wears short, sandals, and a t-shirt most of the year, even when it's cold. I tell him to carry a jacket, but he almost never puts one on. I'm fine with that, because I have seen him voluntarily put on warmer clothes when he gets cold enough, so I know he's not gonna let himself freeze to death. It seriously wigs my parents out though. When he was younger, he would wear the spider costume I made for Halloween around the house all the time, he even slept in it. Then the next year it was the bat costume I made. He even wore that one out places; it wasn't so problematic with all the arms and all. When we go to buy clothes, he won't be swayed from what he likes, even though I try to tell him the clothes he wants are dorky, and the ones I like are way cooler. I've even been known to say, "This is cool. You want to be cool don't you? Do you even WANT friends?" Again, see: reasons I am a bad mother. Cross reference with: reasons my child with be a dangerous sociopath someday.

4) He tries not to wake me up. Apparently, according to reports, I am not pleasant when I am awoken. I don't get it, I try to be as pleasant as possible considering the circumstances, but I guess the idea doesn't get portrayed very well. Ethan has suffered from nightmares (when he was younger) and insomnia all his life (it runs in his dad's family), and so as a result has spent many hours awake at night. I always tried to be understanding and kind when he woke me up, but one night I was especially tired and had to work very early the next day, and after about the fifth time he woke me up because he couldn't sleep, I didn't contain myself very well, I'm afraid. It wasn't pretty, with the yelling and all. Every since then, he goes to great lengths to avoid waking me. Don't get me wrong, he will wake me up if he really needs me, but he seriously weighs that need before taking action. He will go wake up my dad or my brother instead if he can't sleep. And I think that's a sign of true love. Or true fear. Whatever.

3) He is sensitive. I know from the booklets that extreme sensitivity is a common thing with kids that have ADHD, but I still like it. He really picks up on people's emotions. When he was a toddler, before he could talk, the scene in Toy Story where Buzz realizes that he's actually a toy made Ethan cry. When my eye brows furrow, Ethan flattens them out for me so I won't be upset anymore. He really tries to make the people around him happy. And when he was younger, say around 5, he decided that when he grew up, he would marry a girl that works in a pet store. His reason? "A girl that works in a pet store would be kind." All together now. . .awwww!

2) He laughs in the face of danger. I have the evil eye. My glare has sent flocks of servers and managers scurrying to do my bidding. It has cowtowed counter help, previously resolute to uphold store policy on returns. It has caused friends to blather apologies and family to cry. Yet, when turned on Ethan, his response is to lay his hands on either side of my face and say, "Oh my little mommy. You're so cute!" Who can stand up to that sort of treatment?

1) He loves me completely. Don't ask me why. Despite all evidence that I am a horrible mother and quite a boring person, he still loves me. He's living with his dad and stepmom right now, and his life is much better and much more stable there, but he still misses me and wants to come home. What a freak. :)