The Mikhail Web: September 2006

Testing, testing

What the...?

Okay, I admit it. Sometimes... alright! often, I am not good at keeping my mouth shut. Or, to be nice to myself, should I say, in holding back, my words that is. I can clearly recall a few times, when I was in the car, and somebody cut me off, or did something else stupid like that, and me saying: "What the?" Exactly that "what the?" just these two words... and of course, Mr. D. is in his car seat in the back. Umph! Couldn't hold it back, could you. And, oh so innocently him asking: "What's wrong mommy?" Oh nothing, Damian, don't worry.

Well, late last week, we were at home, and Damian says: "what the?" I must say, it was at an appropriate moment. At the right time (I don't remember what he was doing). So I calmly say: "Damian, that is inappropriate, I don't want you to say "what the" again."
And, Damian, oh so innocently replies: "But I didn't say the last word..."
What? What!! He knows that there's a last word, and that it's a bad word? How? When? Why? What? ... Who?
"Excuse me Damian"
"I said I didn't say the last word mommy..." (that innocent tone again!)
"It doesn't matter, I don't want you to say "what the", it's inappropriate (as you probably realised by now, we are learning what is appropriate, and what is not)...

Now I thought, he meant, I am not saying the last word, which is "h..l"... which is what I stop myself from saying, when I am saying "what the"... and then a colleague at work opened up my eyes to another possibility... what if he meant he is not saying: "What the f...k"
What? What!!!
Somebody salt me, I'm fainting...

Camera On, Camera Off -- or so he thought

Damian, when he knows the camera is on...

Addendum, on September 18, 2006:
Yes, I know, wrong words to the french version!! I know, I know, cousin O already called me just to inform me of that....

... and when he thought it was off

D at Soccer


My soccer star

Damian's First Day of School

I waited for that day, I dreaded that day. Who was more nervous? I am pretty sure it was me. Damian had a restful night that Thursday night, the night before the big day. I wonder if I had a full hour of sleep at anytime.

Daddy and I drove him to school. I had a knot in my stomach, Damian was excited. We waited with him in the playground, daddy playing with him, and I, standing on the side, watching him.

Then we go into class, and his teacher says, Do you want to go play Damian? say bye to Mommy and Daddy. I give him a big hug, and a big kiss, and as Daddy is squeezing him tight I tell Dmian to tell him that he needs to go and play! So Damian pushes Daddy and says: I need to go and play Daddy! Then the teacher took his hand and walked away with him. I don't think he looked back. I did not want him to cry, of course not! Or did I? I did not know whether to feel proud of my big boy... my big boy baby... or to feel upset that he did not shed a tear.

But it's not the first time I leave him! It's not the first time I leave him with a "stranger!" He went to day care, we left him with a "nanny!" So, why am I so emotional? I don't know. But I kept thinking, my Baby has grown up.

So maybe that's it. This is the "official" proof that my son is no longer a baby. He is, as he often likes to say, a "big boy" now. And I still worry about him. Is the teacher going to be nice to him? Are the kids going to be nice to him? Is he going to make friends? Will he eat all his food? Am I packing enough? Is he hungry?... does he miss me?... Does it always come back to me? Am I being over protective? Or am I just being, a mom?

And then I went to pick him at the end of the day... he was not very happy... to leave!