Yes, I know I’m limping. My son did it. He pulled some crazy Ninja moves on me.

So, this past weekend my older son Si went ice fishing with my husband both days, all day long.  He woke at the crack of dawn, groggily excited and came home happily exhausted.    This gave me and my Beloved Bozo some one-on-one time, which I’m always grateful for–with either of my boys.

With that being said, one-on-one time with Bozo is–well, it’s become a lesson in ninjitsu.  I love him more than I love myself, but Dear God, I am not cut out for his energy.  He is a non-stop sword-wielding Ninja, hockey playing, wrestling maniac.  Here.  I’ll give you a timeline of what Saturday and Sunday pretty much looked like for me while I go get the Icy Hot and the heating pad:

6:30am:  While standing on the arm of the couch ready to jump and hollering:  Mom!  Can I watch Ninjago!?!?!?  I need to practice being a Ninja!!!!  Then, he jumps off doing ninja moves in the air and lands at my feet.

I mumble ‘yes’, grab the remote, set him up and shuffle toward the Keurig.  I was going to give up coffee, but I think it best if I start Monday.

This is Ninjago.  Bozo's newest obsession.
This is Ninjago. Bozo’s newest obsession.

7:30:  Mom!!  Can we play Ninjas!?!?  I need to practice being a Ninja.  I’m the red Ninja and you be the Blue Ninja ok!?!?  Mom?!?!?   Mom!?!??!  Here, I’ll get the swords.

No, honey, I’m not playing Ninja.  It’s 7:30 in the morning.  I need to wake up.

8:00:  Mom, NOW are you awake!?!?  Can we play Ninjas now!?!?

No.  I’m not awake yet.

Why can't he just practice with himself!?  See, I've seen him do it before!
Why can’t he just practice with himself!? See!?  I’ve seen him do it before!

8:30:  While in the shower, trying to wake up enough to play Ninja:  Yo!  Bozo!!  Stop jumping on my bed please!!!  I said stop jumping on my bed!!!  Why are you standing on the bathroom counter!?!?

9:00:  Mom, can we play Ninja now???

Yes, we can play Ninja now.  We proceed to have a fierce Ninja fight with our light-up swords in the office, down the hall, in the living room, in the kitchen, he’s swinging as hard as he possibly can and twisting and turning and every now and then I pretend to stab him in the butt.  He’s actually pretty darn good at this whole Ninja thing, but I think I strained  a muscle somewhere. 

Okay……(panting)….okay, momma needs to rest for a minute okay???  Where’s some water???

9:40:  Mom, can you be my goalie??  Wanna play hockey and you can be the goalie??

Ummm… (how can I buy some time here)……Let me just pick up the kitchen a bit okay, it’s a mess.

10:00:  Mom, can we play hockey now??

Get off the counter, you’re going to smack one of those lights.

MOM!! CAN WE PLAY HOCKEY NOW????

Yes, we can play hockey.  We set up the small net and get our two miniature hockey sticks and a tennis ball and play a bit of hockey on the kitchen floor for a little while before I have to stop because my knees are aching from crawling and diving all over the floor and I’m tired of having to dodge his slap shots.  I think I pulled another muscle.

Okay, mom’s done for a while now.

10:30:  Mom, your doggie is trying to play with you, see (he acts like a puppy dog, pawing at my legs and barking).  Oh, hi puppy dog.  Nice puppy dog.

Mom, your doggie wants you to wrestle with him!!  This I don’t mind so much because I can basically just lay on the living room floor and he tackles me.  So, we wrestle on the living room floor with some tickling here and there too.  

11:10:  Mom, can you make me a Ninja suit because I need to practice being a Ninja!!!  I take two old pillow cases and try to make him a Ninja suit with scissors and some thread, realize what a ludicrous idea it was,  give up, and tell him I’ll buy him one later.

Wanna play Ninjas again???

Let’s go outside and ski around instead, huh?

We ski for a bit, but Bozo only wants to ski downhill and anytime he has to try to make it uphill he cries and whines that he hates skiing and takes his skis off.

12:00:  Mom, I wanna go on the ice rink instead.  So, I lace up his skates, lace up my own skates and we clear off the ice and skate around for a while more with our hockey sticks.  Then, we head back inside. 

12:45:  Mom, watch this!!!!  He jumps from the arm of the couch, slamming into the cushions making explosive noises.

Awesome Bozo.  You wanna read a book?  Pick a book and I’ll read it.

No.  I hate reading books.

Damn it.

Then, Si and daddy get home from fishing, and this happens:

Perplexed?  Wondering what exactly you're looking at?
Perplexed? Wondering what exactly you’re looking at?

This is Bubble Wrap.  From a UPS package.  They each took a sheet, laid it on the living room floor and proceeded to jump from the back of couch onto the Bubble Wrap over and over and over and over.

All.  Evening.  Long.

Are you tired yet?

As I write this, both of my boys are peacefully sleeping in their beds, gearing up for another fun-filled day of Ninjas and Bubble Wrap Popping while I reflect on my weekend with my little animals.

I’ve learned that even though, in the moment, I’m begging and praying for them to just sit and read a book or zone out in front of the t.v. so I can breathe a minute, I wouldn’t want them any other way.  My boys are healthy and energetic and happy and excited and imaginative and I’m so, so lucky that they are.  I love seeing them pretend to be Ninjas as they fly off the couch.  I love their imaginations and the fact that they think they are super heroes.  Or dogs.  Or cows.  Whatever.  They absolutely exhaust me to no end with their constant motion, but I’ll take it.

Along with some Tylenol for my headache, and Ibuprofen for my sore muscles, and some wine for my nerves, and I should really start running again and I should probably stretch first, next time they ask me to play.

Advertisements

Don't just read and leave, tell me what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s