My Boy, the Planner

Banner is definitely my child - the way he worries and plans. Lately, we've had some interesting conversations, and it's crystal clear that my boy is trying to grow up a little too fast. I just had to document these dialogues before they pass me by and we forget:

Friday, September 22, 2017, driving in the car:

"Mommy, I love E."

"That's great, Banner."

"And she loves me, too." 

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

"But, I also love J.....and A. But I know I can't marry all of them; I have to pick one. I just don't know which one to pick."

"Baby, you don't have to decide. Getting married is a long time away."

He smiles and let's out a little giggle. "I know. I just love all of them."

Monday, September 25, 2017, at bedtime:

"Mommy, can a boy marry two girls? E's mom says they can."

"Well, not really. The only way that can really happen is if he stops being married to one person so he can marry another."

"I decided I'm going to marry E. She said she wants to marry me, too."

"Oh, wow. That's a big decision."

"She looks so pretty."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And, Mommy, do you think when I'm a grown up, you'll move out of this house and I can live here?"

"Maybe. That could happen."

"Is that something people really do?"

"Sure. I know a few friends who bought their parents' home - the house they grew up in."

"Wait. I'd have to buy it?"

"Well, maybe. If I could give it to you, I would."

"Why can't you?"

"It just depends if Daddy and I have enough money to buy a new place to live."

"But you have a lot of money."

"I do?!"

"Yeah, you and Daddy have a lot of money."

"Well, we spend a lot of that money!"

"Why do you spend it?"

"We spend it on clothes, on food, on doctors, on medicine..."

"Well, Daddy used to have like a thousand nickels and a thousand pennies. Then he spent it. And I have a lot of money in my piggy bank, but I don't want to get rid of all of it to buy the house. And, for my birthday, people usually give toys not money. So, I can't really get more."

"Well, you'll work to get more money."

"But, I don't want to go to college." (Buries head in his pillow, looking overwhelmed and stressed, and the school counselor in me who pushes higher education says, "WHAT?!")

"No? Why not?"

"It takes like 3 or 4 YEARS. That's a really long time. That's like 100 or 200 or 300 DAYS! That's so long!"

"It is a long time, but it goes by really fast."

"I just don't want to go to college. It takes forever! So, I don't think I'll be able to make enough money to buy the house."

(I rub his back and sincerely feel his stress and worry.) "Okay, let's not worry about it right now. That's a long time away from now." 

"Yeah, it's like probably 31 years."

"Hmmm. How old will you be in 31 years?"

"Um .... 37."

"Like me; I'm 37."

"How old will you be when I'm 37?"

"I'll be 68. A little older than Grandma."

"Will you look like Grandma?" (He turns back to his back looking up at the ceiling again.)

"I don't know. I'll look like me, but maybe a little like Grandma."

"Mommy, I really want to live here when I grow up. Can you just give the house to me? I really don't think I'll be able to buy it."

Sensing his sincere concern and worry: "Yeah, if we can, we will give it to you."

"So I can live here?"

"Yes. Will you live here with your family?"

"Yes."

"What will your family look like?"

"I don't know."

"Do you have any ideas or do you not know at all?"

"I don't know." (He smiles, as if he's already thinking about E living here with him.)

"Alright, why don't you think about that and try to go to sleep now?"

"K."

"I love you."

"I love you."

"Sweet dreams." 

And, with his hand in mine and eyes closed, as if he's ready to dream about this future he's worried about: "Sweet dreams."