The world at 10

Yes, Mr. Sam is 10. I don't know why ten doesn't have a name. The terrible twos are no worse than whatever is happening inside the mind and body of a ten year old. But terrible tens just really doesn't have the same ring. It's not really accurate either.

Mr. Sam is not terrible. He is a weird mixture of little boy and teen wannabe. He is fun and rambunctious, weepy and emotional, clingy and completely independent. He likes to stay home alone, doesn't want to sleep in the dark, rides his bike all over and investigates the neighborhood, prefers someone go downstairs into the family room with him. His reactions are all over the place, he is like a great big dial a mood wheel. Don't like this one? Just wait another option is just around the corner!

He is wise beyond his years and such a little boy. He makes pronouncements that come from the wisdom of the ages and funny little comments that you can't seem to follow at all. He chastises me, "Mom, we have talked about this" and he has a great variety of sound effects that accompany whatever story he is imagining. In the fourth grade,we had to discuss the sound effects being controlled while at school. I have wondered often if he ever says to his teachers, "Miss Whatever, we have talked about this". I sure hope so. I would hate to be the only one.

Recently we noticed that he has a tendency to smell like a goat. We have discussed this at length. He tells me this is all in my head. I tell him, no I have witnesses. We argue about it at great length. Still he eventually gets into the shower. Last night he appeared at my elbow recently having emerged from the shower. He said, "Smell me now." which of course I did. He smelled yummy and I told him so. He said, "Well, I guess so. I used strawberry shampoo, ocean breeze body wash and mountain fresh deodorant. I ought to smell like a vacation." We both laughed at how witty he is. He laughed longer though.

I am reminded of the email that tells me that if God has a refrigerator that my picture is on it. While I am not at all interested in discussing the theological ramifications of this, I am standing in great hopes that my Eternal Father enjoys me even half as much as I enjoy Sam. That when we discuss whether I am behaving, He glows with that same sense of inner pride and when I tell Him to smell me now, He breathes in deeply and laughs at my witticisms. When my behavior is erratic and my moods are all over the boards, I hope He shakes His head and says "this too shall pass" with the same conviction I have. I hope that as He loves me perfectly, He is helping me to love Sam better every day.

Sam had a good day today. He told me he didn't want to ruin it by taking a shower. The world has many sources of frustrations at ten. Guess cleanliness is one of them.