Fear and Parenting in Las Vegas

Climbing a volcano was a life list kind of thing for me.

Steve thought it was pretty cool, too.

So, he put aside his fear of heights and I nearly hyperventilated my way through tunnels* to the top of Diamond Head Crater on Oahu to get this view.

We took a friend’s advice and headed up as late in the day as possible, hoping to maximize shade on the arid, sunbeaten path with stairs and switchbacks. Steve powered through some tough foot pain** and even wiggled his way to the railing to look over the side.

The views were amazing. A full 360-degree panorama of Waikiki, Huanama Bay and beyond. The water was the most beautiful shade of turquoise that I had ever seen.

It reminded me of my son’s incredible blue eyes.

I had to call them to share this moment. They’ve seen volcanos on TV. THIS would surely impress my naturalists in training.

Hey Boo! You’ll never guess where I am?

You’re in Hawaii, Mommy.

I know that, Boo. But guess where I’m at in Hawaii?

[silence]

I’m on top of a volcano!! Isn’t that cool?

Mommy, I’ve got to ask you something.

Uh oh. What’s wrong, Boo? What happened?

Can I have a cell phone?

WHAT? You’re six, you don’t need a cell phone.

But Brandy has one. She let me use it today at daycamp.

Well, I’m not sure if it was Brandy’s phone or her mom’s or her sisters, but I doubt Brandy’s mom would give Brandy her own cell phone. You’re not even in first grade yet!

But Mooooooooom!

Boo, you don’t have anyone to call. You’re six.

But I can call Brandy.

Oh brother. I’ll talk to your dad, but as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need a phone and aren’t getting one until you are old enough and can pay for it yourself. Now, did I mention I’m on top of a volcano? It’s so cool! You can see everything!!

Why can’t I have a phone?

Ugh. Let me talk to your brother….

My volcano glory was usurped by a six year old with a cell phone.

Lovely.

____________________

*Yes, there are tunnels that you need to go through to make it to the top of Diamond Head. A fact that folks neglected to tell me until I got there. The military bored into the mountain to create lookouts and to haul gear to the top back in the day. Personally I think they were plotting to make claustrophobics like me have panic attacks and hyperventilate. Sick bastards.

**Steve and I attempted surfing earlier in the week. Note the emphasis on “attempting.” It wasn’t pretty, but it was fun. Oh and it was painful. Steve was thrown from his board, stepped on what the Hawaiians call “wana.” We call it a sea urchin who left spines in Steve’s heel and left him hobbling for most of the week. If that wasn’t bad enough, he tore up the tops of his toes on coral. I got it too, but I wasn’t nearly as bad as he was. He rarely complained and powered through the pain. My hero. Please send pedicure gift cards. STAT!

Sorry I haven’t been here much lately…

I’ve been here….

Eating this…

looking at this…

and this…

And now I’m back and attempting to catch up on a massive backlog of writing that needs to be done.

So bear with me as I dig in and dig out.

I am glad to be back, but I’d really love to be looking at some more things like this…

Go to bed, Doodle.

No. I play, Mommy.

Nope. Time for sleep, Doodle. Good night.

Covers Mommy!

Fine.

I pull the blankets over him.

Hugga Kiss, Mommy!

Okay. Hugga Kiss.

Good night, Doodle.

Leave door open, Mommy!

Fine.

I pull the door partially closed so the noise from downstairs doesn’t disturb him.

DOOR OPEN MOMMY!

Fine.

I push the door wide open.

Go to sleep. If you get out of bed (insert consequence here).

I head downstairs to enjoy my late dinner.

Patter Patter Squeak Squeak.

He is at the bottom of the stairs.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Suddenly a light bulb appears, illuminating my frustrated and cloudy mind.

Doodle, you know something?

Wha Mommy?

You can only grow when you’re sleeping.

Rewy? I growing, Mommy.

Only when you sleep.

But I don’t want to sleep.

Well, you need about another four inches to get on those “big kid” rides at Disneyland. So, you’d better get to sleep ifyou want to be big enough before our next trip. Okay?

We going to Disneywand?

Not for awhile, but you’ve got a lot of growing to do. So, you’d better get sleeping.

Okay, Mommy.

Covers!

Check.

Hugga Kiss?

Check.

Good night, Doodle.

Good night, Mommy.

And, believe it or not, the little screwball stayed in bed.

……………………………………………………….

Fast forward to the next morning. I am getting ready in the bathroom when Doodle waddles in.

Mommy? I go potty, please?

Sure, dude. Knock yourself out.

He lifts the lid and the seat, shimmies down his jammie bottoms.

Hold my shirt up, Mommy.

He looks down at his junk as he takes aim with his personal firehose.

Mommy!

What Doodle?

I GREW!

Oy vey. Yes, Doodle. You grew.