“Is that OK Mama?”
I hear these questions from Oliver in rapid succession about twenty times a day. Only I can answer and I can only answer with the correct response, “OK” or “Right”. Yes, yeah, a nod will not suffice. At first I thought this a demand for my attention, the youngest of three never seeming to get enough. Then I thought it a form of insecurity, a constant need for validation. Or maybe it is hinting at OCD, repetitive and exact. Or perhaps it is Oliver at five and at six this will all be a distant memory. Maybe it is all of the above. Whatever it is, today it is annoying and exhausting.
“Two drops of pee pee fell in my pants, is that OK Mama?”
“I farted, is that OK Mama?”
On Tuesday Oliver dressed himself and brushed his teeth, tasks that he has been capable of doing since he was three but simply refused to do. On Thursday he showed no nerves as we entered his kindergarten classroom. He explored, observed and understood what his new world will be come Tuesday. On Thursday, for the first time, I rushed a child to the ER. Oliver, playing in our family room, fell and hit his head against our metal coffee table creating a wound so deep that the pediatric general practitioner paged the plastic surgeon. Brave tears, sedation and thirty plus stitches later we brought home a sleeping Oliver who woke this morning as fresh and sweet as ever. He told me that when he runs he feels like his head is tied to a balloon. I told him not to run. We had plans to spend our last summer break day at Kings Dominion. When I told him he couldn’t go he cried with disappointment but was easily comforted. So as we said goodbye to Daddy, Lucas and Penny, Oliver and I headed out to enjoy our own special day together.
Instead of complaining about the missed fun he embraced having all my attention.
As much as he tests me, he rewards me.