Whew was I in trouble tonight! For the life of me I cannot remember what I did. All I remember is his reaction:
"Mommy! I am not your best friend any more!"
No you're not. You are my son not my friend.
In a big huff he heads out of the kitchen:
"Well I not your son anymore!"
I'm sorry sweetie but you aren't old enough to emancipate yourself.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
*grumble* *grumble* STOMP STOMP STOMP *grumble* STOMP
"Mommy you no come upstairs! I no want you upstairs!"
STOMP STOMP STOMP
Fine by me. I'll stay right here in the kitchen.
I'll take my peace and quiet when and as it is handed to me.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Mini Me
It is no secret that I was secretly relieved to find out I had a boy and not a girl. I was terrified of having a Mini Me. Not once in my sleep-deprived, pregnancy-hormone-addled brain did it ever occur to me that I could have a male Mini Me. My father would be rolling in glee if we had actually buried him rather than cremate him. My mom denies laughing at my misery but I know she's cackling and doing all sorts of dances when I'm not looking. My sister, never one to shy away from bluntness, will occasionally attempt to hide her (deserved) smugness. My brother, well I think he's keeping his mouth shut to some degree because Karma is going to kick him in the ass even harder than she's coming at me. Of his 4 kids, only one is a boy. (That evil cackle you hear would be me as I rub my hands together and plan, via my nieces, all sorts of payback).
My poor Father would actually attempt to nap while I was awake. This was not to be. I would jump on the poor man's chest shouting loud enough to wake the dead: "You 'wake daddy? Daddy, you 'wake?" as I peeled back his eyelids. He could get me to stop (temporarily) by rolling his eyes into the back of his head which would result in even louder shrieks of horror.
And then I'd start all over again until he realized there is no arguing with a redhead and he was getting up.
His payback? Mini Me. "Look Mommy, the sun's up. Time to wake up Mommy! Mommy, you 'wake? 'Wake up Mommy" Peel, peel, peel. Damn it, why can't I roll my eyes back?
Then there is the lecture about staying within our sight - as in the family is out for a walk in the path through the woods behind our house. Little Man starts to run ahead and we tell him not too far, to stay where we can see him. Later that evening, John and I are having a discussion in our room. Little Man in playing on the floor. John and I walk into another room so I can show him something - all related to our discussion.
In comes Little Man and whew is he in a huff:
"You no walk away from me! I was playing and you walked away. I no see you. You not in my eyes. You come back right now!"
I wanted to tell him to watch his tone with me but that would have set off a whole other lecture that I wasn't quite prepared to deal with as my sides were already hurting from the previous lecture.
He has a bit of a temper.
Mini Me.
So I've been working with him when he gets upset: Deep breath. Inhale slowly. Hold. Now exhale. Again.
Fast forward a few days and John is fighting to maintain control over something relatively minor like, oh a stubbed toe or spilled milk. In walks Little Man:
"Deep Breaths Daddy. Inhale. Now eshale. That's it Daddy. Good job!"
And here I thought, all this time he was tuning me out.
Today I found myself a bit overwhelmed having a 3-year-old in my face, literally, all day long. For some reason my personal space was the size of the football field today but he didn't care. He couldn't survive without having at least half of his body wrapped around one of my arms or legs at the bare minimum. It was torture. I needed a break. He wouldn't give me one. I was going to snap yet he was doing nothing wrong. I needed a time out. I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I calmed. I took several deep breaths. I refocused. I walked out.
Into a firestorm.
"You no walk away from me like that! You no, no, no..... You no do that! You no go in there! I tell you not to do that! I no tell you you can, can, can.... You stop that!"
I put my hands on my hips and stand right over him. I, all 5'8" of me is now towering over him and glaring enough to send the bravest running. He, all 40 inches of him, puts his hands on his hips, steps right up so we are now toe-to-toe, and glares up at me enough to send the bravest running.
You do not talk to your mother that way
"You no talk to me....."
Neither of us can maintain the glares any longer and we both end up on the floor giggling.
And that's just his temper. His reasoning skills? His sense of logic? Stories for another time. Right now I'm going to bury my misery in a bowl of peanut butter swirl ice cream and dream that for at least a little while, I am in control.
My poor Father would actually attempt to nap while I was awake. This was not to be. I would jump on the poor man's chest shouting loud enough to wake the dead: "You 'wake daddy? Daddy, you 'wake?" as I peeled back his eyelids. He could get me to stop (temporarily) by rolling his eyes into the back of his head which would result in even louder shrieks of horror.
And then I'd start all over again until he realized there is no arguing with a redhead and he was getting up.
His payback? Mini Me. "Look Mommy, the sun's up. Time to wake up Mommy! Mommy, you 'wake? 'Wake up Mommy" Peel, peel, peel. Damn it, why can't I roll my eyes back?
Then there is the lecture about staying within our sight - as in the family is out for a walk in the path through the woods behind our house. Little Man starts to run ahead and we tell him not too far, to stay where we can see him. Later that evening, John and I are having a discussion in our room. Little Man in playing on the floor. John and I walk into another room so I can show him something - all related to our discussion.
In comes Little Man and whew is he in a huff:
"You no walk away from me! I was playing and you walked away. I no see you. You not in my eyes. You come back right now!"
I wanted to tell him to watch his tone with me but that would have set off a whole other lecture that I wasn't quite prepared to deal with as my sides were already hurting from the previous lecture.
He has a bit of a temper.
Mini Me.
So I've been working with him when he gets upset: Deep breath. Inhale slowly. Hold. Now exhale. Again.
Fast forward a few days and John is fighting to maintain control over something relatively minor like, oh a stubbed toe or spilled milk. In walks Little Man:
"Deep Breaths Daddy. Inhale. Now eshale. That's it Daddy. Good job!"
And here I thought, all this time he was tuning me out.
Today I found myself a bit overwhelmed having a 3-year-old in my face, literally, all day long. For some reason my personal space was the size of the football field today but he didn't care. He couldn't survive without having at least half of his body wrapped around one of my arms or legs at the bare minimum. It was torture. I needed a break. He wouldn't give me one. I was going to snap yet he was doing nothing wrong. I needed a time out. I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I calmed. I took several deep breaths. I refocused. I walked out.
Into a firestorm.
"You no walk away from me like that! You no, no, no..... You no do that! You no go in there! I tell you not to do that! I no tell you you can, can, can.... You stop that!"
I put my hands on my hips and stand right over him. I, all 5'8" of me is now towering over him and glaring enough to send the bravest running. He, all 40 inches of him, puts his hands on his hips, steps right up so we are now toe-to-toe, and glares up at me enough to send the bravest running.
You do not talk to your mother that way
"You no talk to me....."
Neither of us can maintain the glares any longer and we both end up on the floor giggling.
And that's just his temper. His reasoning skills? His sense of logic? Stories for another time. Right now I'm going to bury my misery in a bowl of peanut butter swirl ice cream and dream that for at least a little while, I am in control.
Penis Boy
You are supposed to be refreshed after vacation. I am still exhausted all the time and going to bed early every night - a side effect of having a young child in the house, especially one you haven't taught how to tell time and his cue to come into your room is when the sun comes up. To think I was so proud of myself when I came up with that one. Brilliant lady.
Having a 3 year-old with an exploding vocabulary and a developing story-telling ability means I spend a lot of times with a weird (at least from his perspective I am guessing) grin on my face as I attempt to take him very seriously and not bust a gut in front of him. I've been accused of laughing at him and have yet to be successful explaining the concept of laughing with him since he isn't actually laughing.
A few examples:
"Mommy can you open these?"
What do you say?
"Please?"
Please beautiful mother
"Stop That!"
_________________________________________________________________________________
"And who was the guy who talked about the seals?"
The lady who told us about the seals?
"Yes. What's her name?"
I don't remember.
"Her name is the seal guy-lady."
__________________________________________________________________________________
While reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas:
His Heart was too small baby. Is your heart small?
"No"
Do you have a big heart?
"No I have numbers" pointing to the letters on his shirt.
__________________________________________________________________________________
And then there are the strange things he likes to take to bed with him. Most children want a favorite blanket or stuffed animal. Last night my son chose his spaceship clock because a hard plastic object is great for snuggling.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Mommy why do pterodactyls have wings to fly? Why do dinosaurs have feet to walk? Why do fish swim?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Have you seen Kindergarten Cop? If you have you know what transpired.
"I can do it. I'm a big boy. And you have a penis mommy. You can do it".
Mommy doesn't have a penis. Mommy is a girl. Boys have penis and girls have vaginas. Oh crap. Did I really just say that.
"No mommy you have a penis. I've seen it. It is right there"
Yes, he started to reach. Do you know how difficult it is to jump back when seated cross-legged on the floor while choking on laughter?
No honey, mommy has a vagina.
"No you have a penis. I see it! You have pee up there!"
I had to go into ninja mode that night. Any time he thought I was headed to the bathroom he tried to follow so he could show me where my penis was.
"Your penis is hiding mommy"
"Mommy (giggle giggle) you are Penis Boy!"
Having a 3 year-old with an exploding vocabulary and a developing story-telling ability means I spend a lot of times with a weird (at least from his perspective I am guessing) grin on my face as I attempt to take him very seriously and not bust a gut in front of him. I've been accused of laughing at him and have yet to be successful explaining the concept of laughing with him since he isn't actually laughing.
A few examples:
"Mommy can you open these?"
What do you say?
"Please?"
Please beautiful mother
"Stop That!"
_________________________________________________________________________________
"And who was the guy who talked about the seals?"
The lady who told us about the seals?
"Yes. What's her name?"
I don't remember.
"Her name is the seal guy-lady."
__________________________________________________________________________________
While reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas:
His Heart was too small baby. Is your heart small?
"No"
Do you have a big heart?
"No I have numbers" pointing to the letters on his shirt.
__________________________________________________________________________________
And then there are the strange things he likes to take to bed with him. Most children want a favorite blanket or stuffed animal. Last night my son chose his spaceship clock because a hard plastic object is great for snuggling.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Mommy why do pterodactyls have wings to fly? Why do dinosaurs have feet to walk? Why do fish swim?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Have you seen Kindergarten Cop? If you have you know what transpired.
"I can do it. I'm a big boy. And you have a penis mommy. You can do it".
Mommy doesn't have a penis. Mommy is a girl. Boys have penis and girls have vaginas. Oh crap. Did I really just say that.
"No mommy you have a penis. I've seen it. It is right there"
Yes, he started to reach. Do you know how difficult it is to jump back when seated cross-legged on the floor while choking on laughter?
No honey, mommy has a vagina.
"No you have a penis. I see it! You have pee up there!"
I had to go into ninja mode that night. Any time he thought I was headed to the bathroom he tried to follow so he could show me where my penis was.
"Your penis is hiding mommy"
"Mommy (giggle giggle) you are Penis Boy!"
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Tomorrow Monty. Tomorrow.
I love the conversations. The memory and recall are amazing. This kid could go on forever (and sometimes at 11 PM, it feels like it has been forever). "Tomorrow" is his favorite time. "Maybe we'll do it tomorrow Mommy". Everything needs to be done "tomorrow". He either has my procrastination gene or he has shades of Scarlett in him.
He's even learned the fine art of Lecturing. He understands the effect of a concise lecture.
"You don't talk to me that way. You do that one more time and you'll be in big trouble".
Of course trying to explain to him that he is the one that will be in big trouble because he is the one who dropped towel and stood at the (wide open) front door giving the neighbors the Full Monty is a tad difficult when you are making strangling noises and contorting your body to hide the tears pouring out of your eyes and into your full-faced grin.
He's even learned the fine art of Lecturing. He understands the effect of a concise lecture.
"You don't talk to me that way. You do that one more time and you'll be in big trouble".
Of course trying to explain to him that he is the one that will be in big trouble because he is the one who dropped towel and stood at the (wide open) front door giving the neighbors the Full Monty is a tad difficult when you are making strangling noises and contorting your body to hide the tears pouring out of your eyes and into your full-faced grin.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Tomayto Tomahto
"Mommy, I want my blankie"
Blanket dear. It's called a blanket
"You can call it a blanket. I'm calling it a blankie"
Blanket dear. It's called a blanket
"You can call it a blanket. I'm calling it a blankie"
Monday, May 30, 2011
Whipped, Butt, and Cream
Every now and then my inner Domestic Goddess will awake from her Merlinesque slumber and grace us with her presence. This awakening normally coincides with the opening of the area Farmer's Markets. Something about the first squashes, zucchinis and berries of the season are irresistible to her. Yesterday's selection of strawberries looked especially enticing reminding me of the carton of whipping cream sitting in the fridge; it's expiration date quickly approaching. So last night I cut up the strawberries and tossed in what remained of the blueberries. Sprinkled in a little sugar. Covered and placed in the fridge.
This morning, Little Man didn't get a chance to wake me up. The Goddess was already clamoring for the kitchen and she took a page from Little Man's book. She's up so everyone else is up as well. Less than 20 minutes later the dishes left from the night before were scrubbed and air drying and the cream was being whipped to peaky perfection. I prepared bowls for John and myself. I skipped Little Man. He loves strawberry and blueberry but only in yogurt. I would use our servings to attempt the enticement.
The whipped cream enticed almost immediately as he was digging an unwashed finger into his father's bowl. We moved on to the blueberries but they still require practice enticing impressionable but highly picky preschoolers. The strawberries didn't even bother with their attempt.
So this leads to my darling son making the following request:
"Mommy may I have some butt cream?"
WHAT?
"Butt cream. I want some butt cream."
Whipped cream dear. WHIPPED cream.
This morning, Little Man didn't get a chance to wake me up. The Goddess was already clamoring for the kitchen and she took a page from Little Man's book. She's up so everyone else is up as well. Less than 20 minutes later the dishes left from the night before were scrubbed and air drying and the cream was being whipped to peaky perfection. I prepared bowls for John and myself. I skipped Little Man. He loves strawberry and blueberry but only in yogurt. I would use our servings to attempt the enticement.
The whipped cream enticed almost immediately as he was digging an unwashed finger into his father's bowl. We moved on to the blueberries but they still require practice enticing impressionable but highly picky preschoolers. The strawberries didn't even bother with their attempt.
So this leads to my darling son making the following request:
"Mommy may I have some butt cream?"
WHAT?
"Butt cream. I want some butt cream."
Whipped cream dear. WHIPPED cream.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Respect
I never realized how difficult it is to teach respect.
Little Man "stole" my slippers tonight and hid them in my bedroom. He told me I couldn't have them back.
Who's older?
"I am"
Nice try. Who's bigger?
"I am"
Nice try. Who's stronger?
"Daddy"
Ok. I'll give you that one but you child are neither old enough, big enough, nor strong enough to say no to your mother.
"NOOO WAAAAY!" he screamed right in my face.
Little Man "stole" my slippers tonight and hid them in my bedroom. He told me I couldn't have them back.
Who's older?
"I am"
Nice try. Who's bigger?
"I am"
Nice try. Who's stronger?
"Daddy"
Ok. I'll give you that one but you child are neither old enough, big enough, nor strong enough to say no to your mother.
"NOOO WAAAAY!" he screamed right in my face.
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