Thursday, August 18, 2011

Some stuff(ed animal) that is on my mind…


Listen,
I often feel that Brady, my oldest, inherited most of my less-than-desirable characteristics.  The worst of which is my ability to worry.  Many people who know my family know that I come from a long line of worriers.  This may best be demonstrated by our obsessive door locking.  If you were to go to my parents' house right now, I can guarantee that all of the doors will be locked. Frequently, somebody will go out to grab something from their car only to return to a locked door.  I am sure my dad can tell you many stories about being locked out while barbequing in the front yard or after shoveling the snow off the driveway.  The best part is, nobody (besides my dad) really gets upset about getting locked out because we have all been guilty of locking somebody out.  It is a reflex to lock any and all unlocked doors that we see.  I have also been known to excuse myself from the table while eating at a restaurant or run out during a shopping trip just to make sure I locked the car.  Shocking isn't it.  I love keyless entry because it saves me from having to walk all the way to the car to check.  What a great invention.
So Brady is our worrier.  Every time we get on the freeway to go anywhere, Brady will ask in a very concerned voice if we are going the right way.  Even if we are on our way home from some place he always asks just to make sure.  On longer trips, he has to be reassured multiple times that yes, dad knows the way and that we are not lost. His propensity for worrying has led him to have a very unique bedtime preparation procedure.  After we read stories and brush teeth, I go through a mental checklist to make sure everything is done or I know he will be marching out of his room to have me fix whatever I forgot to do.  Here is the checklist:
1. Close the closet
2. Close the blinds and curtains
3. Place blanket over his castle*
4. Turn on the night light
5. Turn on his music**
6. Make sure the CD player is on repeat***
7. Make sure he has his 2 favorite stuffed animals, Shamu and his polar bear named Blueberry****
8. Turn on the fan*****
9. Turn on Star Wars light saber night light******
10. No cats in the room
11. Door closed all the way as I leave
* I think it casts weird shadows or is possessed or something.
** This started last Christmas when we would turn on a CD of Christmas songs for him to listen to as he fell asleep
*** If he happened to stay awake for the whole CD he would come ask us to turn it on again.  Instead of teaching him how to do it himself, we started putting it on repeat and letting it play all night.  Now the music has to be on all the time just in case he happens to wake up in the middle of the night.  .
****Not sure where the name Blueberry came from.  He keeps one on either side of him in his bed to act as both pillow and body guard.   Also, if either Shamu or Blueberry cannot be located (which happens more often that you can imagine), he has a cougar who can step in as a backup.  He refers to this cougar as "Emergency Puma".  Did you know the scientific name for a cougar is Puma concolor?
***** Summer time only in winter we sometimes use a space heater if it is really cold.
****** Yes, this is a second night light, but this one turns itself off after 10 minutes, so it is not acceptable as his only night light, but it is too cool not to use.
I take full blame for all of this and will pay for any and all therapy that is needed down the road
Before I get into my main story, the main reason for me telling you the above information, there are 2 more pieces of information you need to know:
Item #1: Evan (the 2, almost 3 year old) has a creaky door; you know, squeaky hinges.  Hana and I decided to leave them this way so we can hear him when he gets out of bed.  He usually does this at least twice after he's been put in bed and the squeaky hinges allow us to go downstairs and still hear him when he gets up.  If he is not intercepted, he'll just wander around and play with toys.
Item #2: Sokols are also very good at storing things.  My mom has kept a lot of stuff from my childhood which I absolutely love and appreciate.  Of the many things that she kept and that I now have are a few of my favorite stuffed animals.  Two teddy bears, Light Brownie and Dark Brownie, were always my favorites and a while back I let Brady put them with his stuffed animal collection.
Now to the story:  Two days ago we had a dilemma.  Shamu had gotten dirty; spilled on during some other activity and Emergency Puma was somehow left in Evan's room.  Evan was already asleep (allegedly) and I was not about to risk opening his door which would wake him up.  Brady has a closet full of other stuffed animals; another characteristic he inherited from me.  Since he uses his stuffed animals as pillows at night they have to be the right size and softness to be accepted as a bed partner; Shamu, Blueberry, and Emergency Puma are the best for this.  After trying and dismissing several other stuffed animals, I decided to have him try Light Brownie, my old teddy bear.  After a few adjustments, Brady was content with Light Brownie as his companion for the night.  After a final wish for sweet dreams I closed his door content that everything was right with the world.  Then about 5 minutes later, Evan came sneaking out of his room, the rascal.  I took this chance to grab Emergency Puma from Evan's room.  I then peeked in on Brady, whose door does not squeak, and saw that he was still awake so I gave him Emergency Puma and set Light Brownie on his desk.  I felt like such a great dad recovering the cougar and saving the day (night).
Last night however, as we were preparing for bedtime, Brady informed me that he actually preferred my old teddy bear to Emergency Puma and that he had in fact traded back after I returned the cougar the night before.  This was turning into such a sweet, touching moment between father and son, special moment in our lives.  Here is the conversation that followed:
Me: "Do you remember my old bear's name?"
Brady: "I decided to call him Thunder."
Me: politely "His name is Light Brownie"
Brady: puzzled look
Me: "That is the name I gave him when I was a little boy, Light Brownie, you know like the brownies you eat, but since Dark Brownie was darker I named him Dark Brownie and this bear is Light Brownie."
Brady: with his puzzled look on his face, "That is not a very good name, I like Thunder better."
Me: getting a bit agitated and defensive, "Well, his name is Light Brownie, it has been for over 30 years." 
Brady: "I think that I will call him Thunder, we can just call him different names."
Me: choking back tears of fury and/or devastation, "Um… okay I guess."
Brady then proceeded to body slam poor Light Brownie Thunder onto the bed and giggle in delight.  At that moment something inside me shattered. 

3 comments:

Kristin Sokol said...

Steve and I had a good long laugh at this one. Alyssa took over one of my animals and named him Doggie instead of his former name which was Indiana.

Misty Moncur said...

All that stuff actually sounds pretty normal. I don' think he will need therapy. Sucks about Light Brownie, though.
PS Is it okay with you, Kristin, that I have commented on this, Bob's blog?

HSBahr said...

How come you never post anymore?