Saturday morning... Jet was up four times during the night, I think he's getting the cold I had, and he was not sleeping all that well, but I ended up with Morning Duty. Jet tossed and turned from about 6 to about 7 and he got up, rattled all his shades while pulling them over his head, "I want to see if the sun is up..."
"The son *is* up." I grumble into my pillow.
"It is!" says Jet. "Time for me to get up!"
He putters about with his toys while I steal a few more minutes of sleep. Next thing I know, I have a cylinder thrust at me. "Get this out."
"That cardboard at the end, get it out..."
I study it. There is a circle of cardboard exactly the diameter of the cylinder, stuck at the bottom of... oh, it's an old potato chip can with the aluminum at the end with a single hole in the middle. Oh. It's his glow-in-the-dark "telescope", they'd made rounds of cardboard, put constellations on them in glow-in-the-dark paint, and... oh. He stuck all the rounds firmly in the can, so that they were all at the bottom of it...
"Can we poke it, Jet?"
"Oh! Yeah. I'll get your yarn sticks, Mom." and Jet disappears in a thunder of little feet.
I fall asleep.
He comes back with one of my #2 bamboo needles that I'd bought for socks. I squint at it. I wonder if he took it out of the sock, but I say nothing to that affect. I very, very gently poke through the hole, not wanting to put a hole in the cardboard with the rather sharp point on the thing. Gradually the cardboard circle slides out.
"Oooo! Thanks, Mom." Jet's small hands take the pieces carefully from mine. He takes the knitting needle as well.
"Please put the knitting needle back?"
"Sure, Mom." More thundering feet. They come back. "I put it in the pocket of your knitting bag, Mom. That's where I took it from."
"Thank you, Jet."
I get another 20 minute nap and finally am ready to face the day.
Last night, while I'm talking about something that is deeply depressing me, and John is trying to set me straight on what is or isn't my responsibility, Jet cuts in.
"No, Dad, Mom is right, she gets to be responsible."
John tries to continue his line of thought.
"DAaaad, God made me so that I know EVERYTHING. He didn't make the other kids like that, but He made me so that I know everything, and I know that Mom is okay."
Jet had a pretty high fever this morning, at church. He preferred sitting by me and drawing to going to kids church. When he finally wanted to go, we left, and when he told me that he wanted me to play with him in the play room, I whacked my forehead and said, "Man, I should have brought my knitting bag."
So Jet marched back into the sanctuary and picked up my knitting bag and brought it out to me. blink blink.
Then we went and played. He got clingier and clingier, and during the church lunch he refused to go a step anywhere without me carrying him. Finally, I gave up and decided we were just going to go home. And John said that he'd find a ride home, one way or another. And he did. But Jet went home and lay down with "my dark green pillow" and "my rainbow blanket", the one my Mom made him, and he was comforted by watching Thomas for a while, cuddling with his bed comforts, and getting warm apple juice to drink.
He definitely has the cold I had. We'll just coddle him a bit more than I could coddle myself. It's finally losing its grip on me, I think, but it's been kind of hard.