Life

My son is about 2 and a half now. For the past 6 months or so, his favorite character in the world was Jay Jay the Jet Plane. He loves the show, and most of the characters. He has toys of Jay Jay and Snuffy, and quite a few DVDs of the show, too, for when it isn’t on. Jay Jay to him is like Battlestar Galactica to me.

Or rather, it was. Things have changed. My son’s relationship with Jay Jay the Jet Plane has taken a rather hard blow in these past weeks. About two weeks ago, his grandma was looking for a cartoon he could watch. While channel surfing, she landed on the Speed channel. What was on the channel at that time changed everything: Monster Jam. The show consists mostly of monster trucks doing freestyle; this consists of giant trucks crashing into trailer homes (unoccupied, of course), jumping over cars, and quite often, having their wheels ripped off and their bodies smashed. Suffice to say, my toddler quickly fell in love.

Since that time, I’ve heard very little from my son besides “truck”. Some examples:

Me: “Would you like something to eat?”
Him: “Truck!”

Me: “It’s time for your nap bud. Let’s go.”
Him: “Truck!” (while pointing emphatically at the television which is off)

Me: “Please don’t play with your trucks on that, it’s fragile. You could break it!”
Him: “Truck!”, in a tone which clearly says, “dad, this is a truck, therefore I can play with it where ever I want!”

He is, quite honestly, obsessed. For Christmas he got lots of, you guessed it, trucks. He now is the proud owner of three differently sized Gravedigger trucks, along with some other trucks of different makes, and a firetruck, and some assorted cars. This morning when we were opening presents, it was interesting to watch how he worked. He’d grab a present and shout “truck!” He’d then start to open it. If he found that it was a truck, he’d continue unwrapping it then play with it for a while. If he found that it was not a truck, he’d basically toss it aside and move onto a different package. Eventually he was carefully picking out the packages that were shaped like the packages that his previous trucks had been in. Sneaky.

If you have kids, let me know what they’ve been obsessed with over the years. I know I was a huge fan of the Ghostbusters, as well as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Well, I can’t procrastinate writing this post anymore, or I’ll miss the timeframe in which it’s pertinent. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, or Pleasant Holidays, or whatever wording suits you and your beliefs (or lack thereof). While I believe I’ll be blogging some more before the new year, just in case I don’t, Happy New Year, too.

This year’s Christmas season has been a bit odd for me. Usually I enjoy the season, even if the religious aspect of it doesn’t do much for me. This year has been a bit “blah”; I’m just not really in the mood for it all. I’d say that the major reason for this is that December 17th was the 1 year mark for my father’s death in 2005. He died after 7 months on hospice, 7 extremely difficult months, both for him and the family. It being around the 1 year mark for his death doesn’t really have me depressed, really; it’s not like I’ve been sitting around crying. I’m just kind of apathetic about this year’s Christmas season. Honestly, I’ll be a bit glad when it’s over. Perhaps next year will be better.

Anyway - this was supposed to be a happy post, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, etc., so I’ll wrap it up here. Have happy holidays and be safe if you’re travelling.

Dear Cats,

I like you. I really do. You’re usually a very lovable pet, one which I thoroughly enjoy the company of. In particular, you’re wonderful lap warmers and, a select few of you at any rate, are exceptionally talented feet warmers as well. I enjoy petting you usually, and your purr is quite calming.

However…

I do not need your assistance while reading. I know you think you’re far more intelligent than me, but your big, furry body in front of my face does not aid me in reading. Perhaps you have an excellent knowledge of World War 2, or the Russian language, or tank warfare theory. Even if that’s the case, you being in my way does not help me in learning about such things. In fact, it’s quite a hindrance.

Furthermore, I believe we’re having some breakdown in communications. When I pick you up and move you out of my way or put you down on the floor, I assure you, that is not me saying, “Please, jump right back up here and get in my way again.” I know, I know - it’s hard to understand what a stupid human like me is trying to convey. So let me try to make it clearer: when I put you down, I want you out of my way. I want your fuzzy hair out of my face. I want you to go somewhere else and purr, or perhaps take up a perch in the window sill and clean yourself - pick a body part, I don’t care. Just get out of my way. I’ll love on you later when I’m not trying to read.

Thanks.

Best regards,
Josh, a frustrated cat owner (who’s nose itches because of little cat hairs all over it)

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I read in the daily newspaper today that over 100 headstones and monuments in one of the local cemeteries were knocked over last night, many of them completely destroyed. Many of them were knocked over and then purposefully smashed, most likely with a sledge. Some of them dated back to the 1800s. Why would someone do this? What is there to gain from destroying headstones and monuments which families have bought to honor and remember deceased family members? I suppose if someone were angry at a particular person, they might destroy a headstone belonging to a relative of the person. While that would still be extremely mean and low, it’d make sense. But just to rampage through a cemetery destroying stuff? Why? I really don’t get people sometimes.

I wrote a few months ago about some religious discomfort I was having. Namely, I’m Buddhist and my mom is Christian; I’ve been taking her to church on Sunday, because I know it means a lot to her. She’s disabled and wouldn’t be able to go without me taking her, and she likes me to sit with her anyway. Being Buddhist, I felt a bit out of place in a Christian church. I also was having some issues with me perhaps giving the impression that I was Christian, when in fact I’m not.

Some of that religious pressure, so to speak, has been lifted. Apparently at one of my mom’s church group meetings, she told the two pastors that I’m Buddhist and that I was coming solely to bring her and sit with her. She told them about me being uncomfortable in general, and that I probably wasn’t too keen on things like communion and Christian youth groups. Since then the pastors seem to have backed off a little on the invitations to extracurricular things. They also offer to take my mom to the front of the sanctuary when communion is being given so I’m not put on the spot. (Before when I’d taken her up in her wheelchair, the communion givers assumed I wanted to take it as well, so I obliged; awkward, indeed! Furthermore, bread dipped in grape juice tastes quite horrible!)

As an aside, my mom was baptized this morning. While it doesn’t mean much to me religiously, for clear reasons, I’m happy for her anyway.
* A note about Christianity: I’d just like to make it clear that I’m not Christian-bashing here. There’s nothing wrong with the religion, and I know plenty of people who are Christians whom I considered good friends. The religion just isn’t my cup of tea. No hard feelings!