Where did this fear come from?

For at lest three years, Jacob, now six and a half, has been sleeping in the family room at my house, two rooms away from my bedrom. Never been a problem. Oh, once he mentioned that he has nightmares back there, and I asked why he didn't come get me. He was vague, and I suspect he fell back asleep before he could get up and walk to my room. I long ago stopped using the monitor, though I admit my hearing is not good and without hearing aids and he'll have to yell to get my attention (he does that successfully when he wants food or drink or the TV is broken).
But last night, night-time fear became a big problem. He said he was afraid and he thought he should sleep with me. I decided to humor him this one time and told him to go get in my bed, but no, he wanted to wait for me to go to bed. My explanation that I would be up over two hours past his school-night bedtime fell on deaf ears. He wanted to sleep on the comfy chair in my office--I said no because he'd be staring right at me and at the light; then he chose the floor, but I had to nix that because all he did was play with the dog; then it was the living room couch--but what he really did was to peek out the glass front door and announce that a man walked by and two cars drove by slowly. I assured him we were safe, but he asked what if they were bad guys with guns. It doesn't occur to him that bad guys with guns are unlikely to be interested in us.
He did have one clever ploy: "I just wanted to be with you, because I love you, but if that's not what you want, that's fine with me!" He stalked off but returned in two minutes.
Long story short, I went to bed early, slept fitfully, although he was better than he sometimes is--I don't really recall getting punched, and I only had to shove him over twice. But as a way of life, it won't do.
It's not unusual for children up to six to develop uncontrollable fears, but he's at the age where they usually outgrow them. I suspect someone, perhaps at school, has been filling him with scary stories. Almost all his cousins will be sleeping at my house this weekend, and I know he'll want to be here. Praise be, his mom offered a blow-up mattress for him. Wonderful idea. He will not, of course, want his cousins, ranging from eight to five, to know that he's afraid. We'll see how it works out.
But the deeper problem remains--how do we gently urge him over these fears without making him feel silly.

This, that, and a gullywasher

Cousins are your first and best friends forever!

For the second night in a row, the gods were bowling in the wee hours of the morning. Then came sheets of rain. About seven it cleared but remained dark, and just in time for the school rush across the street the heavens opened again. Jordan called for a big umbrella and I put it out; then she called wonderig what to do about her feet--she didnt want to spend the day with wet feet. She finally did what was for us a first: she let him out right by the door next to his classroom. Always the anxious grandmother, I asked if we should call and be sure he was in class. "Mom, I watched him go in the door, and then I watched to be sure no one carried him out." I suppose child-snatchers weren't out in the storm anyway.

This afternoon was my last day to pick Jacob up, and he's staying late, so I decided I had to do my yoga with him here. He suggested I do it in the front room so as not to disturb his TVwatching; I suggested he watch TV in my office so as not to disturb my yoga. That didn't please him, so he watched me do my yoga, imitated me some. When I was in the meditation phase at the end, he demanded, "Juju, are you doing yoga or are you just sleeping?" I'm going to miss him in the afternoons. Then again, maybe I won't have to watch any more Bigfoot videos.

I've been too social this week--Monday night playing catch-up from a weekend away, Tuesday night dinner with the neighbors at the Grill--a chunk out of the evening; Wed. night dinner with friends at a wine cafe--a bigger chunk out of the evening and my wallet both. Tonight I'm staying home, eating a BLT, and working. Was all ready to start tht next Kelly O'Connell novel, but I got final proofs for the third one today. Sigh. The weekend doesn't offer lots of work time. I imagine I'll be running errands, etc.

Retirement sure is fun!

Family reunion

We had a family reunion today at my brother's ranch--my family, his family, and his wife's family, thirty of us. These are wonderful folks, and we couldn't be luckier to have each other. It isn't clear in this fuzzy photo but there are nine under ten--one was sick and couldn't come, so my niece is also missing--but all day it seemed like there were about twice that many little kids having the time of their lives.
John and Cindy are generous, gracious hosts who go to a lot of trouble for their family. John has been planning this--especially the main event--for ove two weeks, and Cindy worked all day in the kitchen. The only person who can successfully help her is her sister, Jenny, so while the rest of us went on a hayride, Jenny and Cindy worked.

The hayride--the main event! Everyone piled on a flatbed trailer stacked with bales of hay. I must admit that Cindy's sister, Patty, her SO Ralph, and I followed in a Kobuto (think that's right) which is a small all-terrain thing--much more comfortable. Cindy's brother-in-law Kevin folowed on an ATV and midway, he and Ralph changed vehicles. The stock tanks are full, the pastures lush with various grasses and wildflowers--I saw a version of coreopsis and some purple things I couldn't identify plus some we thought were black-eyed Susans. Quite a contrast from last year when drought and high temperatures turned the land pretty barren. From the Kobuto, I got a great view of all the fun the kids were having. A new game: jump off the wagon and then run to catch up and jump back on. Not sure that's a wonderful idea, but no one got hurt.
The tour guide, my brother, stopped to point out various things--like the wildflowers (six-year-old Kate picked a bouquet for her mom) but this was primarily a hunt for Bigfoot. At one point, Jamie jumped out, sniffed some leaves, and declared that Bigfoot had come that way. The young kids fanned out looking for trail in all earnestness. But on the edge of one stock tank, they found it! Bigfoot's footprint! Here's Jacob, looking back at Uncle John, when he first saw the footprint.

As John said, that made the day, if nothing else. And then Jamie led the little children and some big in a searching walk around the edge of the tank--I was waiting for one to get too intent on searching and tumble into the water. Lo and behold, there was another footprint on the othe side of the tank! It was honestly a wonderful sight to see those kids so excited, trooping along in single file through waist-high weeds and grass, bending down to examine the footprint without disturbing it. I hope they'll remember this day when they're grown and treasure the wonder of it.
We had a bountiful meal--beef tenderloin, corn on the cob (Jenny stuck wooden chopsticks in the end of each piece of corn for easier holding--great idea!--they come with takeout orders from PeiWei and she had a drawer full of them), rolls, and then the things the rest of us had brought--my potato salad, Megan's marinated vegetables. We had snacked all along on Mel's veggies and dip, Lisa's black bean salad, Jordan's corn dip. We ate well, and it was so good. For dessert: homemade ice cream and Beth's cookies. Funniest picture oif the day: two-year-old Andrew who lost his balance and sat in the doorway, tumbling his ice cream and spraying it everywhere but not at all disturbed by his sudden seating. Here are my two gorgeous daughters:

There were games of horseshoes--Andrew thought collecting horseshoes (plastic) was his duty, but he had to be persuaded to part with them and stand away from the peg--and there was a riotous game of baseball in which everyone got turns batting and running to loosely (very!) defined bases.  Most of us sat on the porch and laughed a lot. The day was absolutely perfect, with a temperature in the 70s and cloud cover. As we left a few drops of rain sprinkled on us but that was all.
John and I never had the sense, growing up,that we were part of a larger family. John had Peckham cousins in New York--he spent some summer with his New York relatives and was close to them, but is no longer close to the few that are left; on my dad's side, I had one cousin in distant Canada--the last time I saw her I was about fourteen (she's part of my life now, but that's a different story). On Mom's side there were three cousins, and we lost track of them years ago. So it is a huge delight for us to have all these folks as family. Some of us only cross paths twice a year, if we're lucky, but it's always joyous, a time for celebrating--and the ranch is almost always the location of our get-togethers. It's not only a treat to be together, but for some of us a day spent in the outdoors is a marvelous change. (John always says I don't spend enough time outdoors, and he's probably right, but I loved it today). I've always known how blessed I am with my children and grandchildren, but once again today I was reminded of just how large my family is and of how grateful I am for all these diverse people with whom I laugh, joke, and feel loved, as I love them. My sense--and hope--is that as the years go by, these generations, my children and grandchildren, will stay close to cousins, aunts and uncles.
Tonight half of my immediate family is at my house, crashed. I know all those ten and under will sleep soundly tonight.
PS I read just the other day that it is legal in Texas to hunt and kill Sasequatch and Bigfoot. Good luck all you hunters!

Cousins

 Jacob's first sleepy words this morning were, "When are my cousins coming?" I told him lunchtime, and group by group they arrived for a late lunch, all six cousins, three aunts and an uncle. The cousins were rowdy, happy, deliciously excited. An afternoon playing hard in the park did nothing to dampen their energy (while their grandmother snatched a nap), and by 5:00 p.m. we were off for a party with the extended family at Joe T. Garcia's. We counted--there were 17 adults and 17 kids. Someday they may outnumber us! The occasion was to give everyone a chance to visit with my nephew Russell, who was supposed to deploy to Iraq in March. He says now the word is May, but you never know--they could say tomorrow, "Pack your bags. You're leaving in a week." Whatever, it was a great occasion for a get-together and wonderful to see all those generations. There was a great-grandmother there, so we had four generations. I think she and my brother were the eldest, in their late 70s, and five-month-old Madelyn McClain was the youngest. Wonderful, happy, noisy, all talking at once. The kids ran wild but fortunately stayed in our corner of the restaurant--we had a nice secluded area--and then after supper went outside to play on the patio (with supervision).  I can't say enough about how blessed I am with family--some of us there had been through tough times together and joyous times, we've "grown up" together, as if we ever really get there, and now we're raising grandchildren. And the adult children are all such wonderful, family-minded people, who care a lot about each other. It was fun to watch my children with their two cousins--that sense of belonging that comes with having cousins is being passed down from generation to generation. I have very few cousins and have lost touch with all of them, except the one in Canada whose affairs I'm responsible for--an entirely different relationship. So I am so grateful that my children and grandchildren have this strong sense of belonging to a large family  that cares about all of them.

Jacob went off tonight to sleep in the garage apartment with Uncle Colin and Aunt Lisa. He had maybe a brief moment of hesitation when he kissed his mom and dad good night, but he will sleep soundly, knowing he is in safe and loving hands. Family. What more is there to say?