Henry, my nineteen month old, has recently discovered his favorite appendage. No, not that one. Do you really think that took him nineteen months? I mean the other one. The remote.
'Mote? Are you?
And as embarrassing as it is to say, because I know better, he loves television. I am going to blame it on his four year old brother. 'Cause that's certainly an appropriate age to watch copious amounts of television.
His latest fave is Matman (the old old school Batman with Adam West). And it's terrible. I mean awful. But when he comes up to me, pushing the 'mote into my hand and says
Watch dis? Matman?
he often gets his way.
We read books, too. I promise.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Lesson Learned
William and I headed to Kroger one afternoon after school. As I taking him out of the car, he tells me
Mom, my tummy is growling.
Okay, hon. I will fix you something to eat when we get home.
Actually, mom. I have a better idea. My tummy is growling for McDonald's (His eyes shift toward the "restaurant" across the street).
I start laughing.
Mom! You're making me feel stupid.
I'm sorry, William. I'm not trying to make you feel stupid.
I know you're a teacher. But, I am your son. And I'm four-and-a half. I was being serious. You shouldn't be laughing at me. That makes me feel stupid.
No, Mommy guilt did not prevail. Guess I won't be laughing next time. But, I won't be buying McDonald's either.
Mom, my tummy is growling.
Okay, hon. I will fix you something to eat when we get home.
Actually, mom. I have a better idea. My tummy is growling for McDonald's (His eyes shift toward the "restaurant" across the street).
I start laughing.
Mom! You're making me feel stupid.
I'm sorry, William. I'm not trying to make you feel stupid.
I know you're a teacher. But, I am your son. And I'm four-and-a half. I was being serious. You shouldn't be laughing at me. That makes me feel stupid.
No, Mommy guilt did not prevail. Guess I won't be laughing next time. But, I won't be buying McDonald's either.
A Many Splendored Thing
When my in-laws picked William up last week (Henry had to go to the ER for an epinephrine treatment) one of the teachers pointed out his "new" VERY over-sized coat and explained that it was an unclaimed "Lost and Found" coat that William had "fallen in love with" so...
I am not in love with a coat! You don't fall in love with things. You fall in love with people. And then you get married....
My bad, dude.
I am not in love with a coat! You don't fall in love with things. You fall in love with people. And then you get married....
My bad, dude.
Best in Show
It's been awhile. I have several stories to share, but I'll start with this one.
William's daycare/preschool puts on a Christmas program every year. William is very much the ham, something he gets quite honestly. It's such a treat to watch him belting out "The Twelve Dogs of Christmas," mouth stretched as widely as possible when singing "FIIIIIIIIIIIIVE GOOOOOOLDEN RETRIEEEEVEERS!" dancing with his white boy rhythm. And, to get the best possible view, you know I was sitting front row. And suddenly, mid-song, his eyes locked with mine, his mouth opened and he belted out,
"Mom! I need to go potty!"
Fortunately the bathroom was a few steps stage right and we made it back for the twelfth dog of Christmas, which was ironically a cat.
William's daycare/preschool puts on a Christmas program every year. William is very much the ham, something he gets quite honestly. It's such a treat to watch him belting out "The Twelve Dogs of Christmas," mouth stretched as widely as possible when singing "FIIIIIIIIIIIIVE GOOOOOOLDEN RETRIEEEEVEERS!" dancing with his white boy rhythm. And, to get the best possible view, you know I was sitting front row. And suddenly, mid-song, his eyes locked with mine, his mouth opened and he belted out,
"Mom! I need to go potty!"
Fortunately the bathroom was a few steps stage right and we made it back for the twelfth dog of Christmas, which was ironically a cat.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Elf on a Shelf
I have been thinking about doing this for awhile. I like the idea of creating magic for my children. I hate the idea of a tattle-tale. I haven't been fond of the, "If you don't behave, I'll tell Santa" idea for quite awhile. But, then some of my Bible study mamas started talking about all of the "mischief" that their elf creates. I started to reconsider. I was thisclose to putting it in my basket Target. I looked it over and decided that it was way too creepy looking. And THEN they aired a 23 minute movie about it on Friday. It made it into my basket and through the check out this morning. I still find it creepy looking.
William and Henry spent the night at Gaga and D's (my mother and father-in-law's) last night. Before pick up, I put the tree up and decorated. I placed our elf among the decorations. Henry came in first. (William had fallen asleep in the car). Henry was in AWE of the tree. Especially the jingle bell Christmas balls I bought at the after Christmas sales. The Christmas tree didn't really register with him last year, so it was so fun to watch him take in the wonder of the lights and ornaments.
Then, William came in. I tried to subtly point out the elf.
Look up here. I put your (beloved) snow globe up here.
Yeah, I see it.
See this snowman ornament that broke (strategically placed right in front of the elf).
I see it.
And then, the obvious.
Do you see the elf?
Yeah. Just like on the movie. But, it's not a real elf. It's just a decoration. It's not magic.
Are you sure?
Yeah. It's not moving.
The elf in the movie didn't move while the kids were awake. Not until they went to bed.
It's just a decoration. It's not magic.
Sigh. I think that we're supposed to name it.
What about Lightsaber?
Ben: I don't think that we should name it after a weapon.
What about Stinkypants?
That's not a very nice name. I would hate for him to have to tell Santa that you named him Stinkypants.
How about just Pants? That doesn't have Stinky in it.
I don't think so. What about Pixie?
That's WAY too sparkly. (Can't argue with that).
How about Foxie? (I really don't know where I came up with that. Or why I chose to spell it with an -ie rather than a -y. But after a few rounds, we decided to keep it).
We then read the story and he decided that Foxie WAS indeed magic. He's still skeptical, though. Mostly because he doesn't move.
And, as much as I hate the tattle-tale thing, I have to admit that it was a pretty heady feeling to tell him that I might have to tell Foxie about his refusal to finish his dinner. Worked like a charm.
(I forgot the best part. After he first recognized Foxie as being magical, he proclaimed)
I think I'm going to get a little bit naked now.
William and Henry spent the night at Gaga and D's (my mother and father-in-law's) last night. Before pick up, I put the tree up and decorated. I placed our elf among the decorations. Henry came in first. (William had fallen asleep in the car). Henry was in AWE of the tree. Especially the jingle bell Christmas balls I bought at the after Christmas sales. The Christmas tree didn't really register with him last year, so it was so fun to watch him take in the wonder of the lights and ornaments.
Then, William came in. I tried to subtly point out the elf.
Look up here. I put your (beloved) snow globe up here.
Yeah, I see it.
See this snowman ornament that broke (strategically placed right in front of the elf).
I see it.
And then, the obvious.
Do you see the elf?
Yeah. Just like on the movie. But, it's not a real elf. It's just a decoration. It's not magic.
Are you sure?
Yeah. It's not moving.
The elf in the movie didn't move while the kids were awake. Not until they went to bed.
It's just a decoration. It's not magic.
Sigh. I think that we're supposed to name it.
What about Lightsaber?
Ben: I don't think that we should name it after a weapon.
What about Stinkypants?
That's not a very nice name. I would hate for him to have to tell Santa that you named him Stinkypants.
How about just Pants? That doesn't have Stinky in it.
I don't think so. What about Pixie?
That's WAY too sparkly. (Can't argue with that).
How about Foxie? (I really don't know where I came up with that. Or why I chose to spell it with an -ie rather than a -y. But after a few rounds, we decided to keep it).
We then read the story and he decided that Foxie WAS indeed magic. He's still skeptical, though. Mostly because he doesn't move.
And, as much as I hate the tattle-tale thing, I have to admit that it was a pretty heady feeling to tell him that I might have to tell Foxie about his refusal to finish his dinner. Worked like a charm.
(I forgot the best part. After he first recognized Foxie as being magical, he proclaimed)
I think I'm going to get a little bit naked now.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Preferences
My mom called tonight as I was on my way home. She asked that I stop by so that she could give William a present. She had been at our church's "store" to buy herself a nativity. Boo begged her for a smaller nativity and my mom caved. She asked William if he wanted anything, but he declined. He had been interested in a snow globe of the nativity, so my mom wanted to get it for him as a "happy" sometime. Which brings us to tonight.
William, we need to stop by Mimi's. She has a little present for you.
A present? Why'd Mimi get me a present?
Remember when you and Boo were at church and Mimi got her a nativity? She wanted to get you a little "happy," too.
I hope it's not a...(something I didn't catch). And as I'm saying, "It's not a toy," he's saying
because I like Jesus, I just like Star Wars better.
Needless to say, he was a might disappointed.
And later...
It's just too pretty for a little young boy like me. And too precious. Too, too precious. That stuff's for girls.
Those lessons on graciousness haven't stuck yet, apparently.
William, we need to stop by Mimi's. She has a little present for you.
A present? Why'd Mimi get me a present?
Remember when you and Boo were at church and Mimi got her a nativity? She wanted to get you a little "happy," too.
I hope it's not a...(something I didn't catch). And as I'm saying, "It's not a toy," he's saying
because I like Jesus, I just like Star Wars better.
Needless to say, he was a might disappointed.
And later...
It's just too pretty for a little young boy like me. And too precious. Too, too precious. That stuff's for girls.
Those lessons on graciousness haven't stuck yet, apparently.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
On Road Rage
We went to church last night. Ben (the husband) and I took separate cars so that my mom (Mimi) could ride with me. We don't have that fancy third row seating, so we can only accommodate two adults and two children. William was going to ride with me so that he could also ride with Mimi and Henry didn't have much to say either way, so it was set. Until William changed his mind. No big deal, right? Turned out, it kind of was.
As I was merging onto the the pre-merging lane, I saw Ben's car in my rear view mirror. And another car that was behind me in the pre-merging lane. Ben sped up to try to get in front of said car. When it became obvious that Ben was going to be unsuccessful, he slowed down. I made a comment to my mom that Ben will surely consider said driver a complete idiot, as is anyone who does not do what Ben thinks is the "right thing."
When we got to church, Ben and William were waiting for us in the foyer. Ben tells me that he "had a moment" and forgot William was in the car with him. Called it. I didn't ask him what he said. We were in church. Couldn't be that bad, could it?
This morning, William tells Ben
I know what you said last night and I know what it means. You know, when that car almost got us in a accident.
What's that?
You said "funky tree hole."
Thanks a lot, Dad. Good thing he had no point of reference to comprehend what you REALLY said.
Good job.
Funky tree hole.
As I was merging onto the the pre-merging lane, I saw Ben's car in my rear view mirror. And another car that was behind me in the pre-merging lane. Ben sped up to try to get in front of said car. When it became obvious that Ben was going to be unsuccessful, he slowed down. I made a comment to my mom that Ben will surely consider said driver a complete idiot, as is anyone who does not do what Ben thinks is the "right thing."
When we got to church, Ben and William were waiting for us in the foyer. Ben tells me that he "had a moment" and forgot William was in the car with him. Called it. I didn't ask him what he said. We were in church. Couldn't be that bad, could it?
This morning, William tells Ben
I know what you said last night and I know what it means. You know, when that car almost got us in a accident.
What's that?
You said "funky tree hole."
Thanks a lot, Dad. Good thing he had no point of reference to comprehend what you REALLY said.
Good job.
Funky tree hole.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
It's a Toss Up
as to whether William will grow up to have a quick wit, or will need extensive therapy.
Scene from this morning. (Saying that William is not a morning person is an understatement, by the way).
William, you look so handsome.
Stop saying that I look handsome.
Well, then you look ugly.
Stop saying that I look ugly. Stop calling me names.
Parent fail. Put another dollar in the therapy jar.
Scene from this morning. (Saying that William is not a morning person is an understatement, by the way).
William, you look so handsome.
Stop saying that I look handsome.
Well, then you look ugly.
Stop saying that I look ugly. Stop calling me names.
Parent fail. Put another dollar in the therapy jar.
Moniker
Forgot about this little gem from Halloween night. We were grilling hotdogs on our charcoal grill. We had the little chimney, fire-starter thingy going, smoke billowing. William walked over, raised his hands above his head like he was Abracadabra-ing the grill and proclaimed
I am the William of hotness!
Tonight as he was eating dinner, he brought up his new, self-imposed nickname again and then elaborated
You know why I am the William of hotness? It's because I like hot things.
Makes sense.
And, if he wants to pursue a career as a Chippendale, he already has a suitable stage name picked out.
I am the William of hotness!
Tonight as he was eating dinner, he brought up his new, self-imposed nickname again and then elaborated
You know why I am the William of hotness? It's because I like hot things.
Makes sense.
And, if he wants to pursue a career as a Chippendale, he already has a suitable stage name picked out.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Trick or Treat
Halloween. Time for the annual family "bash." Well, our version of a bash. My in-laws, parents, and brother, sister-in-law, and niece (y'all know Boo) come over for chili and dogs and then some of the adults take the children trick-or-treating while the others hand out candy. It's a great set-up. My in-laws, who live about 20 minutes away, get to see the kids dressed up and participate in their Halloween. (My parents and brother live in my neighborhood, so they would see the kids anyway). Still, good times. And the senior moms insist on providing dinner, so I'm winning all over the place.
I am a big fan of dressing up, not so much the ToTing. I like the giving of the candy, but not so much the collecting of the candy. I mean, my older child is only four and a half, so he only needs so much candy. My 18 month old needs almost none. We have never hit more than twenty houses, and then we're back home. No complaints. In fact, William was really concerned about missing the trick-or-treaters. On the way home he insisted that he would be good at handing out candy because he was a good "hander."
After arriving back home, he took off the belt and cape of his his Count Dooku costume, leaving him in a black mock turtleneck and black pants, and then donned a pilot's helmet. The costume of a trick-or-treater spotter and candy passer-outer.
For the rest of the night we heard,
"Daddy, there are more guest-es. I'll get the candy!"
As we all know, I am not very much on his radar lately, not even being invited to the wedding.
All the same, it was precious watching my little man passing out candy to kids three times his age.
P.S. We stuck with the recent Star Wars theme. William was Count Dooku, as mentioned above. Henry was Yoda, Boo was Leia, and Mimi and Uncle Tommy were both random Jedis, thanks to robes that I actually sewed myself.
I am a big fan of dressing up, not so much the ToTing. I like the giving of the candy, but not so much the collecting of the candy. I mean, my older child is only four and a half, so he only needs so much candy. My 18 month old needs almost none. We have never hit more than twenty houses, and then we're back home. No complaints. In fact, William was really concerned about missing the trick-or-treaters. On the way home he insisted that he would be good at handing out candy because he was a good "hander."
After arriving back home, he took off the belt and cape of his his Count Dooku costume, leaving him in a black mock turtleneck and black pants, and then donned a pilot's helmet. The costume of a trick-or-treater spotter and candy passer-outer.
For the rest of the night we heard,
"Daddy, there are more guest-es. I'll get the candy!"
As we all know, I am not very much on his radar lately, not even being invited to the wedding.
All the same, it was precious watching my little man passing out candy to kids three times his age.
P.S. We stuck with the recent Star Wars theme. William was Count Dooku, as mentioned above. Henry was Yoda, Boo was Leia, and Mimi and Uncle Tommy were both random Jedis, thanks to robes that I actually sewed myself.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
The Saga Continues
So, William confided in me last night some things about his and Amidala's relationship. And his sleep preferences.
Mom, I'm naked.
You're not naked.
The top part of me is naked. (He is sleeping in his underwear).
It's okay. Amildala likes it.
She likes you to be naked? What does she sleep in?
She sleeps in a blue gown. She wears it all the time. (Sigh of relief).
She likes it when I'm naked. She likes to feel my warm skin. And my bellybutton. (?????) That's boy language. You can't say that.
I can't say "bellybutton"?
No. Only boys can.
Girls have bellybuttons, too.
Yeah, Amidala likes mine. And my warm skin.
Lord help me when puberty arrives.
By the way, I asked again why I wasn't invited to the wedding. He told me that he didn't "draw [me] on the list" because he didn't "know how to spell [me]." He did, however, know how to spell, Boo, Mimi, and Papa. Not Mom.
Mom, I'm naked.
You're not naked.
The top part of me is naked. (He is sleeping in his underwear).
It's okay. Amildala likes it.
She likes you to be naked? What does she sleep in?
She sleeps in a blue gown. She wears it all the time. (Sigh of relief).
She likes it when I'm naked. She likes to feel my warm skin. And my bellybutton. (?????) That's boy language. You can't say that.
I can't say "bellybutton"?
No. Only boys can.
Girls have bellybuttons, too.
Yeah, Amidala likes mine. And my warm skin.
Lord help me when puberty arrives.
By the way, I asked again why I wasn't invited to the wedding. He told me that he didn't "draw [me] on the list" because he didn't "know how to spell [me]." He did, however, know how to spell, Boo, Mimi, and Papa. Not Mom.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Always a Bridesmaid
Never a mother of the groom.
William informed me last night that he was recently married. To Amidala. Because she was "so in love with him." Who could blame her?
As any concerned mother would do, I questioned him on the genesis of the relationship. Which, as far as I knew, was the actual wedding.
So, you and Amidala, huh? Why did you get married?
Mom, I already told you. Because she was in love with me. And I love her.
Where was this wedding?
It was just at a restaurant. It was at Off the Hoof. (A local burger place--fancy). It's a real restaurant. But, you weren't there.
I wasn't invited?
Mah-ahm. (Exasperated tone). I just already told you. You weren't there.
Well, just for the record. Next time you get married, I want to be invited.
Well, it's too late. Boo (his cousin and sometimes girlfriend) was there.
Boo was there? Why wasn't I invited?
You weren't on the list.
William informed me last night that he was recently married. To Amidala. Because she was "so in love with him." Who could blame her?
As any concerned mother would do, I questioned him on the genesis of the relationship. Which, as far as I knew, was the actual wedding.
So, you and Amidala, huh? Why did you get married?
Mom, I already told you. Because she was in love with me. And I love her.
Where was this wedding?
It was just at a restaurant. It was at Off the Hoof. (A local burger place--fancy). It's a real restaurant. But, you weren't there.
I wasn't invited?
Mah-ahm. (Exasperated tone). I just already told you. You weren't there.
Well, just for the record. Next time you get married, I want to be invited.
Well, it's too late. Boo (his cousin and sometimes girlfriend) was there.
Boo was there? Why wasn't I invited?
You weren't on the list.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Eureka
This whole blog has been about my oldest (technically older since I only have two. You should use the comparative, rather than the superlative. That's the teacher coming out in me). But, I digress.
This one is about Henry.
We were outside one early evening. Both boys were just wandering around, trying out "outdoorsy" things. I noticed that Henry's diaper was kind of hanging out of the bottom of his little one piece, baby-toddler outfit. Rather than fix it, I just reached over and unsnapped his outfit and pulled the diaper off, leaving Henry essentially, "naked underneath his clothes."
It didn't take long for him to notice. Arms straight down, he grasped the bottom of his now "open" outfit. He lifted it up while simultaneously dropping his chin to his chest, eyes wide open.
PEE-PEE!
Up, down, up down, up down. PEE-PEE, PEE-PEE, PEE-PEE!
It was like a brand new discovery each time.
Reminds me of a comedian I once heard. He had a young son, maybe 18 months old. His wife was changing their son's diaper. She yelled for him to come into the room, appalled that their son had "discovered" himself. She asked her husband, "When is he going to stop doing this?" The husband replied, "You're going to have to ask someone older than me."
This one is about Henry.
We were outside one early evening. Both boys were just wandering around, trying out "outdoorsy" things. I noticed that Henry's diaper was kind of hanging out of the bottom of his little one piece, baby-toddler outfit. Rather than fix it, I just reached over and unsnapped his outfit and pulled the diaper off, leaving Henry essentially, "naked underneath his clothes."
It didn't take long for him to notice. Arms straight down, he grasped the bottom of his now "open" outfit. He lifted it up while simultaneously dropping his chin to his chest, eyes wide open.
PEE-PEE!
Up, down, up down, up down. PEE-PEE, PEE-PEE, PEE-PEE!
It was like a brand new discovery each time.
Reminds me of a comedian I once heard. He had a young son, maybe 18 months old. His wife was changing their son's diaper. She yelled for him to come into the room, appalled that their son had "discovered" himself. She asked her husband, "When is he going to stop doing this?" The husband replied, "You're going to have to ask someone older than me."
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Picture Perfect
Today was picture day at preschool. Normally picture days are school-wide and the children are put in specific outfits. So, I wasn't too concerned when William donned a Star Wars shirt. (He has enough that he can wear one every day). I don't think they were provided with outfits. I don't think it was school-wide. Oh, well. I don't have to buy them. William must have known that it was a wash. This is the conversation he had with his teacher, Miss Kim.
MK--William, did you smile for your picture?
No, I just gave her a look like this. (And showed her his "mad face")
MK--Why didn't you smile?
'Cause I just didn't want to. You know what I said to the pink lady?
MK--The pink lady?
Yeah, you know. The lady that was wearing the pink. I said, "May the force be with you."
And she knew what it was. 'Cause she's seen that movie before.
MK--William, did you smile for your picture?
No, I just gave her a look like this. (And showed her his "mad face")
MK--Why didn't you smile?
'Cause I just didn't want to. You know what I said to the pink lady?
MK--The pink lady?
Yeah, you know. The lady that was wearing the pink. I said, "May the force be with you."
And she knew what it was. 'Cause she's seen that movie before.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
What IS This?
So, I was put in a position this morning where I had to shower, bathe Henry, and keep William out of trouble all at the same time.
We were running late for a birthday party. Ben wasn't home yet from his haircut. Henry was covered in appa sau'. I asked William to grab a towel so that I cold dry off Henry and complete MY shower, which is impossible to do with a 17 month old in the shower, crying over the water splashing on his head. He finally hands me the towel.
No, the red one. Right there. Behind you. The RED one. William. Right. there.
William leaves the room. A dry, naked Henry toddles after him. My hair gets washed. All is well.
William walks back in with something in each hand.
Mom, what IS this?
Some kind of cottony, butterfly on a string looking thing in the right hand. Some kind of blue plasticky, cylindrical thing in his left.
Holy crap.
He starts flapping the butterfly and pumping the smaller cylinder into the larger one.
Mom, what's this for?
Not ready to explain feminine menstrual products to my four year-old. Son.
I mumbled something about it being for ladies.
Does Mimi have one?
Not anymore.
And, I got nothin' else. No more William in the linen closet.
We were running late for a birthday party. Ben wasn't home yet from his haircut. Henry was covered in appa sau'. I asked William to grab a towel so that I cold dry off Henry and complete MY shower, which is impossible to do with a 17 month old in the shower, crying over the water splashing on his head. He finally hands me the towel.
No, the red one. Right there. Behind you. The RED one. William. Right. there.
William leaves the room. A dry, naked Henry toddles after him. My hair gets washed. All is well.
William walks back in with something in each hand.
Mom, what IS this?
Some kind of cottony, butterfly on a string looking thing in the right hand. Some kind of blue plasticky, cylindrical thing in his left.
Holy crap.
He starts flapping the butterfly and pumping the smaller cylinder into the larger one.
Mom, what's this for?
Not ready to explain feminine menstrual products to my four year-old. Son.
I mumbled something about it being for ladies.
Does Mimi have one?
Not anymore.
And, I got nothin' else. No more William in the linen closet.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Lost In Translation
So, we were reading an obscure Shel Silverstein book last night called Don't Bump the Glump. It contains a lot of weird poems. And I mean that from the context of Shel Silverstein. That's saying a lot. I told him I'd read him the whole book. Unfortunately, I took this task literally. I read every. single. poem. Even the one called GRU. The first line is "Don't pooh-pooh the Gru," as in don't dismiss or belittle.
Am I really that dumb? Because, to William that can only mean, don't defecate on.
And when William laughs, he means it. He laughs with such sincerity. From deep inside his belly.
Mom, why do you wanna POOP on the Gru? (belly laugh)
Umm, that's not what it means. It's hard to explain.
But, why you wanna POOP on it?
Sigh. I tried to ignore the rest until he finally fell asleep. Not the end of the story, though.
HE WOKE UP LAUGHING. Half in his sleep. And continuing the conversation.
But, why you wanna poop on the Gru?
I give up.
Am I really that dumb? Because, to William that can only mean, don't defecate on.
And when William laughs, he means it. He laughs with such sincerity. From deep inside his belly.
Mom, why do you wanna POOP on the Gru? (belly laugh)
Umm, that's not what it means. It's hard to explain.
But, why you wanna POOP on it?
Sigh. I tried to ignore the rest until he finally fell asleep. Not the end of the story, though.
HE WOKE UP LAUGHING. Half in his sleep. And continuing the conversation.
But, why you wanna poop on the Gru?
I give up.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Common Thread?
While watching Yo Gabba Gabba...They probably had some related segment, but I wasn't paying attention
Mom, I love my world.
You love your world?
Yeah.
What do you love about your world?
The streets. And 'lectrical wires. And bear-blankie. And air conditionin'...
Okay then.
Mom, I love my world.
You love your world?
Yeah.
What do you love about your world?
The streets. And 'lectrical wires. And bear-blankie. And air conditionin'...
Okay then.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Brown Chicken Brown Cow
Did I mention that William is obsessed with Star Wars? We play light sabers, 'lectricity from our hands, Anakin with the burned off hair...
He has two Star Wars encyclopedias that he pores over. This one, that's from the movies and one from Clone Wars. So, he's familiar with even some of (what I would consider) obscure characters.
Tonight he was playing with his Gaga (my mother-in-law) and Ahsoka Tano and Amidala were featured prominently in their play. They cried a lot. He really couldn't tell me why, but he wanted to know if Amidala could sleep with him tonight. Not a figure. Not a picture. Just an imaginary Amidala. But, he wanted permission first.
Please, Mom! Please Amidala can sleep with me in my bed? I really, really want her to!
Uh... Why? Why do you want Amidala to sleep with you?
Because, I just really want her to!
(What is that they say about lawyers in court? Never ask a question that you don't already know the answer to? I can't help it, though. I gotta know).
What are guys going to do?
Read bed time stories and have fun!
Still a little too vague for me, but I'll allow it. The biggest question, though, is what would he have done had I said no?
And the rest of the story...
At bedtime.
Is Amidala still planning on sleeping with you?
Yeah. And Ahsoka wants to sleep with me, too.
I don't know if there's room for all of you.
Ahsoka can sleep on top of me because she likes me. (??????) And she is very light.
How about she sleeps here at the foot of the bed?
He has two Star Wars encyclopedias that he pores over. This one, that's from the movies and one from Clone Wars. So, he's familiar with even some of (what I would consider) obscure characters.
Tonight he was playing with his Gaga (my mother-in-law) and Ahsoka Tano and Amidala were featured prominently in their play. They cried a lot. He really couldn't tell me why, but he wanted to know if Amidala could sleep with him tonight. Not a figure. Not a picture. Just an imaginary Amidala. But, he wanted permission first.
Please, Mom! Please Amidala can sleep with me in my bed? I really, really want her to!
Uh... Why? Why do you want Amidala to sleep with you?
Because, I just really want her to!
(What is that they say about lawyers in court? Never ask a question that you don't already know the answer to? I can't help it, though. I gotta know).
What are guys going to do?
Read bed time stories and have fun!
Still a little too vague for me, but I'll allow it. The biggest question, though, is what would he have done had I said no?
And the rest of the story...
At bedtime.
Is Amidala still planning on sleeping with you?
Yeah. And Ahsoka wants to sleep with me, too.
I don't know if there's room for all of you.
Ahsoka can sleep on top of me because she likes me. (??????) And she is very light.
How about she sleeps here at the foot of the bed?
Seeing Double?
In seeing a couple, both dressed in black, riding a motorcycle together...
Mom, look at those twins on that motorcycle!
Mom, look at those twins on that motorcycle!
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Light up Star Wars Shoes
There are two kinds of parents in this world. The kind that think that light up shoes are tacky and the ones that think that light up shoes are tacky, yet buy them for their kids anyway. Maybe tacky isn't the right word. It's just a little disconcerting to see light emanating from footwear. Garish, maybe?
About a year ago, I bit the bullet and headed to Stride Rite to buy William some shoes. He has a weird foot and has always been hard to buy shoes for. I figured that I could find a nice pair at the big fancy shoe store.
We bought a nice pair of navy Saucony Velcro-strapped shoes. Plain. Just the way I like them.
Yet, he would put them on and stomp around going, "Look at my Star Wars shoes! They light up!" Whatever you say, dude.
So, best of both worlds for this mama. I get the plain shoes, he gets the light up shoes and we only had to buy one pair.
One day this summer, I insisted that he wear his Crocs (another parent favorite--I actually like them).
He said, "But, Mom. I want to wear my light up Star Wars shoes! These don't light up!"
(Hmm...let's try this) How about you pretend that these ones light up like you pretend with your light up Star Wars shoes.
That's a great idea! Mom, you're a genius! (You never know what's going to work. Crisis avoided).
The day came (just two weeks ago) when those plain/light up shoes had to be retired. They began to rip in front. Back to Stride Rite.
There on the wall--a whole row of Star Wars shoes. That lit up. Joy.
Ones that looked like the helmet of Captain Rex from Clone Wars. Like, 3 different versions.
And then, these.
For some reason, these were the least offensive to me. So, now we have an official pair of light up Star Wars shoes. Straight from his mind and onto the shelves of the Stride Rite. Could not convince him that the cute plain navy ones were better. Who did I think I was kidding?
The best part of this whole experience has to be from the point of view of the clerk at Stride Rite. A woman in a stained t-shirt, athletic shorts, flip flops, and hair thrown haphazardly in a barrette, tsking and rolling her eyes at those "tacky" light up shoes.
About a year ago, I bit the bullet and headed to Stride Rite to buy William some shoes. He has a weird foot and has always been hard to buy shoes for. I figured that I could find a nice pair at the big fancy shoe store.
We bought a nice pair of navy Saucony Velcro-strapped shoes. Plain. Just the way I like them.
Yet, he would put them on and stomp around going, "Look at my Star Wars shoes! They light up!" Whatever you say, dude.
So, best of both worlds for this mama. I get the plain shoes, he gets the light up shoes and we only had to buy one pair.
One day this summer, I insisted that he wear his Crocs (another parent favorite--I actually like them).
He said, "But, Mom. I want to wear my light up Star Wars shoes! These don't light up!"
(Hmm...let's try this) How about you pretend that these ones light up like you pretend with your light up Star Wars shoes.
That's a great idea! Mom, you're a genius! (You never know what's going to work. Crisis avoided).
The day came (just two weeks ago) when those plain/light up shoes had to be retired. They began to rip in front. Back to Stride Rite.
There on the wall--a whole row of Star Wars shoes. That lit up. Joy.
Ones that looked like the helmet of Captain Rex from Clone Wars. Like, 3 different versions.
And then, these.
For some reason, these were the least offensive to me. So, now we have an official pair of light up Star Wars shoes. Straight from his mind and onto the shelves of the Stride Rite. Could not convince him that the cute plain navy ones were better. Who did I think I was kidding?
The best part of this whole experience has to be from the point of view of the clerk at Stride Rite. A woman in a stained t-shirt, athletic shorts, flip flops, and hair thrown haphazardly in a barrette, tsking and rolling her eyes at those "tacky" light up shoes.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Something to Look Forward to
You have to watch your mouth when you're around your kids. If you say something that you're not supposed to, they will pick up on it and they will repeat it. This is easier for some more than others. Personally, when my husband and I were married without children, our house was sometimes like an Orbit gum commercial, without the cutesy dubs. In other words, it's hard for us.
Like at dinner tonight. Ben mentioned that he moved all of the "crap" off the table so that we could eat dinner. (That's pretty PG, but we're in a G house). He immediately realized his mistake and apologized, but it was too late.
Crap is grown up word?
Yes.
How about for little kids?
Nope.
How about for school agers?
No. Just grown ups.
I can't wait till I get older so I can say "crap."
And "fart."
Like at dinner tonight. Ben mentioned that he moved all of the "crap" off the table so that we could eat dinner. (That's pretty PG, but we're in a G house). He immediately realized his mistake and apologized, but it was too late.
Crap is grown up word?
Yes.
How about for little kids?
Nope.
How about for school agers?
No. Just grown ups.
I can't wait till I get older so I can say "crap."
And "fart."
Thursday, September 29, 2011
He's No Carny
Ben, the husband, wanted me to post this story. It happened about a year ago. We were at the playground.
Nowadays, mothers have taken on a broader range of ages. I, for example, and 38 years old. I have two children under five. Some women are grandmothers by this age. Some are mothers of newborns at 40.
Anyway, we were all at the local playground. William's goal, each time we go to a play area (be it the Chick Fil-A play area or the aforementioned local play area), is to find a new "best friend." Names are optional. So, he encounters one such best friend and his possibly late thirties, early forties mother. And in typical kid fashion asks her, "What's your grandson's name?" Thankfully, I was minding the wee baby and Ben (the husband) was minding the precocious three year old.
So, no career as an age and weight guesser.
Nowadays, mothers have taken on a broader range of ages. I, for example, and 38 years old. I have two children under five. Some women are grandmothers by this age. Some are mothers of newborns at 40.
Anyway, we were all at the local playground. William's goal, each time we go to a play area (be it the Chick Fil-A play area or the aforementioned local play area), is to find a new "best friend." Names are optional. So, he encounters one such best friend and his possibly late thirties, early forties mother. And in typical kid fashion asks her, "What's your grandson's name?" Thankfully, I was minding the wee baby and Ben (the husband) was minding the precocious three year old.
So, no career as an age and weight guesser.
Liam Knows Best
William is at that stage where he is trying out inappropriate words and phrases just to see what he can get away with. He's obsessed with "stupid and shut up" as in "Mom, I can't say stupid and shut up because those are ugly words. Right, Mom? Right?" Except he's asking the question just so that he can say those words in a way that won't get him into trouble. So, he's either going to be a future ad exec (see previous posts) or a politician.
We've moved on to potty words most recently. Poop. Fart. And diarrhea (thanks pre-school friends!) I try not to make a big deal out of every little thing, because any parent knows that making a big deal out of something very often reinforces the behavior that we're trying to curb.
So, while we were putting on shoes and getting ready to go to school, William pipes up
Sometimes, when we are playing the "girlfriends game" (that will have to be explained in another post) I tell the girls to back off! (Pause) But, Liam said that's a ugly word. Is back off a ugly word?
Well, I don't know if I would call it an ugly word, but it's not very polite.
(I mean, between that and the potty words and the "stupid" and "shut up," I'll take "back off." And, sometimes those girls do need to back off. Word).
But, Liam says it is a ugly word.
Who are you going to believe? Liam, or your mom?
I am going to believe Liam because he's my friend and he works at my school. (As do all of his classmates).
Well, there you have it. But, I think I'm going to have to side with Liam on this one, now that I think about it.
We've moved on to potty words most recently. Poop. Fart. And diarrhea (thanks pre-school friends!) I try not to make a big deal out of every little thing, because any parent knows that making a big deal out of something very often reinforces the behavior that we're trying to curb.
So, while we were putting on shoes and getting ready to go to school, William pipes up
Sometimes, when we are playing the "girlfriends game" (that will have to be explained in another post) I tell the girls to back off! (Pause) But, Liam said that's a ugly word. Is back off a ugly word?
Well, I don't know if I would call it an ugly word, but it's not very polite.
(I mean, between that and the potty words and the "stupid" and "shut up," I'll take "back off." And, sometimes those girls do need to back off. Word).
But, Liam says it is a ugly word.
Who are you going to believe? Liam, or your mom?
I am going to believe Liam because he's my friend and he works at my school. (As do all of his classmates).
Well, there you have it. But, I think I'm going to have to side with Liam on this one, now that I think about it.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Birds and Bees
While bathing William once when Henry was about a year old...(and thus my pregnancy still "topical")
Mom, did you have Henry in your belly?
Yup. And you were in my belly, too.
That's so weird. But, how did we get out? (Easy question, since I had to have a c-section with each).
Well, I went to the hospital and had surgery. They used a special knife and cut a hole in my belly. Then, they pulled you out and sewed my belly back together.
Awesomeness. I got to tell the truth without having to mention genetalia. And then...
But how did we get in there? Is there a door or sumfin'?
Mom, did you have Henry in your belly?
Yup. And you were in my belly, too.
That's so weird. But, how did we get out? (Easy question, since I had to have a c-section with each).
Well, I went to the hospital and had surgery. They used a special knife and cut a hole in my belly. Then, they pulled you out and sewed my belly back together.
Awesomeness. I got to tell the truth without having to mention genetalia. And then...
But how did we get in there? Is there a door or sumfin'?
Call or Click Today!
I swear, he does say things that don't involve commercials. But, I can't think of any of them right now. A scene from this weekend:
Mom, you can order (insert product) if you're 18 or older!
Ok.
Boo (his 5 y/o cousin) could order it! She's not 18, but she is older!
Mom, you can order (insert product) if you're 18 or older!
Ok.
Boo (his 5 y/o cousin) could order it! She's not 18, but she is older!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
You won't spill your wine!
William is also very impressed by Tempur-Pedic. Hey may have mentioned the free dvd, but he was most impressed with the wine demonstration. Maybe it was seeing adults jumping on a bed. But, this is how the conversation went...
Mom! Look! (They all seem to start out this way). You can jump on the bed and you won't spill your wine!
That's really interesting, except I don't think that there will ever be a time when you will need to combine those two activities.
But, Mom. If you and Daddy were in your bed and you wanted to drink wine and then jump, you could.
Well, can't argue with that.
Mom! Look! (They all seem to start out this way). You can jump on the bed and you won't spill your wine!
That's really interesting, except I don't think that there will ever be a time when you will need to combine those two activities.
But, Mom. If you and Daddy were in your bed and you wanted to drink wine and then jump, you could.
Well, can't argue with that.
Just Like Henry Winkler...
Don't know why I kept my children's names secret in my first post but they are William and Henry. Like the princes, but not after them. William is the four year old, and by default Henry is the one year old.
William may watch a little too much t.v. Maybe he just pays too much attention when he does. He is a marketer's dream. Loves commercials. Wants to know everything about them. And I mean ALL commercials. Drug companies schilling medication? Check. (What's that medicine for? What kind of doctor is that? What kind of hospital is that? Is that for grown ups?)
And reverse mortgages. Apparently the Fonz is now schlepping reverse mortgages on t.v. All he had to do was offer a free dvd and William was hooked.
MOM! Look! You can get a FREE dvd!!!
I don't think you'd want that one, though. It's boring stuff.
Borin' stuff?
Yeah.
Who is that?
Henry Winkler.
Who is Henry Winkler?
He's an actor.
Oh.
And now every time that commercial comes on, William exclaims, "Mom! Look! It's Henry Winkler!" He's made an impression.
And every once in a while he'll add quietly, "Wish I was an actor. (Pause). Like Henry Winkler."
William may watch a little too much t.v. Maybe he just pays too much attention when he does. He is a marketer's dream. Loves commercials. Wants to know everything about them. And I mean ALL commercials. Drug companies schilling medication? Check. (What's that medicine for? What kind of doctor is that? What kind of hospital is that? Is that for grown ups?)
And reverse mortgages. Apparently the Fonz is now schlepping reverse mortgages on t.v. All he had to do was offer a free dvd and William was hooked.
MOM! Look! You can get a FREE dvd!!!
I don't think you'd want that one, though. It's boring stuff.
Borin' stuff?
Yeah.
Who is that?
Henry Winkler.
Who is Henry Winkler?
He's an actor.
Oh.
And now every time that commercial comes on, William exclaims, "Mom! Look! It's Henry Winkler!" He's made an impression.
And every once in a while he'll add quietly, "Wish I was an actor. (Pause). Like Henry Winkler."
In the Beginning...
So, I am starting my first blog. Since I have so much free time. Truth is, I am trying this in lieu of a baby book. I have a four year old and a one year old and I rarely write down anything. First tooth? Uh... First steps? Approximately 11 months (older) and 13 months (younger). First time crawling? Sitting up? Anyone's guess.
Mostly, though, it's to document the crazy funny stuff that my older son says. Hopefully the younger one will be funny, too. He doesn't say much right now.
But, William? He makes me laugh every day.
Mostly, though, it's to document the crazy funny stuff that my older son says. Hopefully the younger one will be funny, too. He doesn't say much right now.
But, William? He makes me laugh every day.
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