New Kicks

WHM's super-fast Spiderman sneakers had a blowout this week.

To be precise, that happened on Tuesday, exactly one day after the BOGO sale ended at Stride Rite.  This photo is when he showed me the issue while he and I had dinner and waited for CAM's ballet class to end. (Side note -- I am so excited that he and I get to have "dates" every Tuesday while CAM dances!)

Our nearest Stride Rite is precisely 60 minutes away, at the Stride Rite Outlet in Kittery, Maine.  That's okay, because I prefer to shop the outlet and it's a nice excuse for a drive to Southern Maine. Sometimes we wander the outlets in Kittery, sometimes we go to Portsmouth, NH, and sometimes we meander our way back to Central Maine and stop at the mall in Portland or at Stonewall Kitchen in York, or any of a million other beloved detours.

In any case, WHM can't go to school -- especially since this past week was full-on July weather -- without sneakers.  He can't exactly wear dress shoes and shorts, or snow shoes and shorts.  And sandals are not allowed.  So, we promised him we'd buy new sneakers on Saturday, when we could most easily head down to Kittery.

He went straight to the superhero shoes again.

Mick and I were really trying to get him to go with lace-up sneakers, so he could learn and practice tying his shoes.  In fact, before he had Spiderman shoes, he had lace-up sneakers.  (Also, for some reason we don't quite even know ourselves, we'd been steadfastly opposed to superheroes, cartoon characters, anything like that on shoes.  CAM never had a pair, and WHM only had Spiderman because the last time we went shoe shopping, I was without Mick and was, apparently, a softie that day.)

In any case, Mick and I tried everything yesterday.

"Mommy, I wealllly want theeese."

"But, WHM, these are so stylin'."

"No, but these hurt."

"No, they don't."

"But I weally wike this style."

"Daddy would like you to try some big-kid shoes, like his ... and CAM's, and mine ... see this super-cool color?"

"I don't wike that color."

"What about these?"

"I don't like those bottoms."

"What about these?!  Super awesome with red and black! And check out the bottoms!  Spikey! Come on, WHM, we really want you to get a pair that has laces.   You need to learn how to tie your shoes since you're in kindergarten!"

"Mommy, I want these.  With velcro."

"Let's just try these on, okay? Let's see how they look. You USED to have a pair with laces, you know!  A pair just like these!"

"Those hurt."

"They only hurt when they got too small.  We'll get your right size and they will feel great!"

We tried on the black-and-red sneakers, but they were a half size too big and even Mick regretfully admitted that they were not a good choice.  Too big is almost as bad as too small, especially with our little fall-prone man.

At this point, the Ironman shoes were not coming off his feet.

"Come on, WHM, those sneakers are just like the Spiderman shoes you already have. Let's try a new style."

We found an adjacent pair in a style we could live with and Mick chimed in: "Look!  These have laces AND velcro! Look how the velcro goes across!"

But WHM sat on the floor and pointed to the shoes he wanted, and said "Wook. These have velcro and it doesn't just go across. The velcro on this one goes here and here.  These are just like my Spiderman shoes and I already know I wuv this style."

Suffice it to say, the day's negotiation went to WHM.

Before:

These were well-loved and were on my "replace next" list, anyway.  The blowout forced the issue.

After:  (Note the similarities in velcro and style!)

We have also been informed that these shoes are EVEN FASTER than the Spiderman ones, and that it was a very good decision to buy these.

Thank goodness.

--Jen

Soooo Much Catching Up to Do!

I don't even know where to begin.  And I'm not going to the beginning, because I've already written one novel this summer.

Instead, in the interest of preserving two precious conversations, I'll just start there.

We -- the redheads, that is, because Mick had to stay back for work -- went to NY for a little over a week, so CAM could attend a baton twirling camp on Long Island.  Of all places in the world*, it was 20 minutes from my parents' house!

WHM and I typically drove CAM in to her camp and rode back home (or to shopping or some other fun excursion**) together, and then went together to pick CAM back up in the afternoons.

On one of those drives, WHM asked me when we are going to buy a new house, and I said I didn't know.  He started talking about what kind of house he wanted, and then said he wanted to live with me forever.  I told him that he would probably change his mind one day.

WHM:  When I get married?

Me:  Maybe... maybe before then.

WHM:  Well.  I still want to wiv with you forever.  Even when I am married.

At this point, the kids started talking.

CAM:  WHM, you need to have a girlfriend before you get married.

WHM:  I know. I'm going to have at weast 6 or 7 girlfriends. Then I'm going to see which one is the best, and pick her and get married.

I love the idea that it was so simple to him. He'd try six or seven versions and pick the best one. I wish I'd written this down as soon as we got to baton that morning, but this is still pretty close to verbatim, and I thought it was absolutely precious.

Fast forward to our drive home this past Monday.  A week ago today -- yikes!  We had great weather and the drive was gloriously easy.  WHM took a nice 9,864-hour nap and was in a fabulous mood when he woke up.

As has been his habit lately, he started asking me what something spelled.

O-N-N-T

That doesn't spell anything, buddy. (He's been fixated on "on" and "no" lately, so at first I thought he was doing something with that.)

He corrects himself:

No, wait. I missed a wetter.  O-N-E-N-T

That's still not a word, buddy.

I mean, O-N-C-N-T

No, wait -- O-N-E-C-E-N-T

At this point, I have the EUREKA! moment that he is reading from a penny!

Oh, that's from a penny!  Silly me, I didn't know what you were reading from!  It spells, "ONE CENT."

And I was promptly (and brilliantly!) reprimanded:

NO, Mommy. It starts with an "O," not a "W!" "O" says "ahhh"!

And we promptly got into a discussion of funny words and homonyms and all sorts of general Mommying.

__________________________

In other "news," I had grand aspirations of setting aside just a little time every day or so to catch up on all my delinquent blog posts, especially as related to Sweet As Pie.  I didn't do *anything* related to that in July, but I'm hoping August is kind to me and gives me a chance to make some progress towards getting current here -- so that when school starts in a few weeks, I only have to maintain.  I'm trying!

--Jen

* we found four baton camps this summer. Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and NY. I'm sure there are others, but those were the reasonably-viable ones.

** like finding a walk-in clinic where we could get his stitches removed and then waiting three hours for the pleasure, and following that with a Chinese-food-and-sushi lunch date because we love it but CAM won't eat it!

Totally Normal

"Look, Mommy!  I made a distabooshun!"

WHM just called for my attention and that was what I turned my head to see and hear.

It was completely unprompted.  I don't even know where he got the red construction paper!

Since I teach AP Statistics, I happen to think this is pretty amazingly awesome.

--Jen

"TH"ings WHM Says

CAM used to switch her "th-" sounds for "f" sounds.  We asked about it years ago, and we were told it was developmentally appropriate.  Last year as she made her way through kindergarten, we thought it was probably beyond developmentally appropriate, so we took her to be tested by a speech therapist. The therapist agreed with us that CAM had a small impediment and should have been past that stage.  Naturally, speech therapy was not covered by insurance, because the insurance company insisted it had to have been diagnosed years earlier -- right at the time when all the doctors and teachers wouldn't refer us to therapy because they all said it was entirely appropriate!  It was a catch-22.  We won't treat her because it's developmentally appropriate; we won't treat her because you waited too long.

In any event, now WHM is 4 years old, CAM's in first grade, and we've worked diligently all year to resolve CAM's speech issue.  (For the record, it's all better, she's awesome, and her first grade teacher, a former speech therapist, was and continues to be amazing!)

Because we stress it so much, WHM has taken to fixing his "f" sounds as well.

So now we have THootball. And THriday. And THRee instead of "free."

It's pretty funny.  (And rest assured -- easy enough to fix!)

While I am at it, though, we also have Octimus Prime (instead of Optimus Prime, and instead of Octopus Slime, which is what he called the Transformer originally).

I'm trying to capture all these because one day, just like he stopped saying "cacos" for Costco, he's going to stop saying all of these things, too.

Like "be-lease bepartment" for "police department," and "bepartment" for "apartment," and "Tractor Be-ply" instead of "Tractor Supply."  And let's not forget "be-ghetti!"

And we may remember them -- my sister Courtney used to call Chinese food Shiny food, and we still call it that, 35 years later -- but we may well not.

So, here it is.  Even if this post is only ever for me, it's here.  And that makes my heart happy.

I'm probably going to think of 99 more things WHM says, and I'll add them here as well.

--Jen

update 6/16/14 -- we just celebrated THather's Day yesterday. The gems keep on coming and I never seem to write them down fast enough!

Polite Company

A morning one-sided conversation with WHM, while he sits on the potty:
(It's best if you read it out loud.)

Mommy! You know, if you fot a wittle, it's a toot. But if you fot a biiiiiig fot, it's a fot.

Pause.

Mommy!  I fotted.

I fought it was a toot... but I was wrong.

--Jen

Morning Light

When I get up in the mornings, I get in the shower.  Then I usually wake up the kids and let them go in our bedroom and snuggle with Mick, if he's still in bed, or just under the covers, if he's up.  They love it and it makes our early mornings a little easier on everyone.  (I get up at 5 a.m., so the kids get up between 5:30 and 6:00, depending.  That's early.)

This morning, WHM was in my bed and I turned around to turn on a lamp and get something from my dresser.  As I rummaged for a slip, I heard him hop out of the bed, run across the hall, and hop back in.

This is what I saw when I turned around.

I guess that solves the bright light problem!

--Jen

Ah, Work

After a Christmas vacation that was supposed to end New Year's Day (as in, back to school January 2), but snow days January 2 and 3 and then a bonus ice storm day yesterday, January 6, we finally had school again today.  As I told Mick this morning while we were getting ready, the thing about my job is I wish I didn't have a job.

Today mostly proved me right on that one, and I have the headache to prove it.

But then there was this conversation on the drive home with the kids today:

(the radio starts playing a Taylor Swift song)

CAM:  Mommy, it's Taylor Swift!
Me: I knoooow, honey!  Yay!
CAM: You know what?  I am Taylor Swift's biggest fan.
Me: I bet you are, honey-bunny.
CAM: You know why? Because SHE is my favorite singer.
WHM: What about Sweet Home Alabama?

That right there?  That's why I love my life.

--Jen

Corn Dogs and Slides are What We REALLY Need Around Here

Earlier today, CAM was displeased with what I said we were having for lunch.  (It was quesadillas.)
She stomped up the stairs, saying, "If I was a grown up, I would make sure we had corn dogs for lunch every day."  (Mind you, corn dogs never even entered the conversation today, so this fit was a bit of a surprise to me.  And by "a bit," I really mean, "hello, random!")  I told her we didn't have any corn dogs to make or I would have been happy to.

She asked, "Why not?"

And WHM jumped in to help me:

"Because.  We have no corn, and we have no dogs. Soooo we can't make corn dogs, CAM.  That's why."

About an hour later, my mom called.  She was all excited to let the kids know that she and my dad had just bought new swing seats for the swing set at their house, and she wanted to speak with WHM.  Unfortunately, he happened to be tending to a "potty emergency."  Not two minutes later, I had WHM call her back. I told him that Grandma called to let him know that she and Grandpa just bought new swings for their swing set, and he should call to say "thank you."

He got on the phone, and as my mom said, "hello," he jumped right in:

"But, did you get a new sliiiide?  Because the one at your house is kind-of old and yucky."

My two grateful, thankful kids.  They make me so proud.

--Jen

Conversations with W

Part I

WHM:  Mommy, what does stitty mean?
Me:  What?
WHM:  What does stitty mean?
Me: Stitty?
WHM:  Yes, stitty.
Me: I'm not sure, honey.
Mick: Use it in a sentence.
WHM:  I don't know what sentence it's in.


Part II

background -- we were talking about going to a BBQ restaurant that has an outside sign with a combination animal representing what it serves

WHM:  CAM!  Look out your window for fish chick piggin!
[pause]
WHM, to himself:  Wait, that's not it...
WHM:  Fish pig chicken!

--Jen

Pluto is Not A Planet

WHM:  Mommy, wouldn't it be cool if we could wide in a weal wocketship?
Me:  It sure would! Where do you want to go?
WHM:  I don't know.  But not to Mars.
Me:  Well, where do you want to go?
WHM (rolling his eyes as he thinks):  Jupiter!
Me:  What's special about Jupiter?
WHM:  It's made of gold.

(This from the same kid who could tell me when he was three years old that planets spin on an axis while they go around the sun.  He actually used the word "revolution!*") 

Methinks I need a trip to Jupiter.

--Jen

*actually, I believe it was "wevvolution."

Oh, dear.

WHM just came to me, holding a bottle of glitter:

Mommy!  Dis stuff is weallllly yummy!

Reason #17564549 that I despise glitter.*

--Jen

*not things that glitter.  Just glitter itself.  Diamonds and other sparkly baubles are fine.

Warm Hands

Me: WHM!  You are FREEZING!  These are some icicle hands!

(warming his hands up and giggling)

Me:  WHM  has icicle hands!

WHM:  And Mommy has warmicle hands!

--Jen

... And Another!

I am making ornaments with the kids this afternoon and evening.  Earlier, we were painting walnuts as part of a particular ornament.

CAM asked me, "Mommy, do you know there's sumping in here?"
I said, "Yes, honey, it's a walnut. The outside is just the shell."
CAM:  "What kind of nut did you say, Mommy?"
WHM:  "A dunkin donut, CAM!  A Dunkin Do-NUT!"

And the two of them proceeded to giggle themselves into a frenzy.

I love it when they crack (hahah, pun intended!) their own jokes -- but I love it even more when the jokes make sense!

--Jen

Bath Time with WHM

Conversation after WHM had been in the tub for about ten minutes of playtime after "scrub-a-dubbing":

Me:  Okay, W, are you about ready?

WHM: No, I'm still paying.  [playing]

pause

WHM:  It takes my time.

--Jen

Stupid Bleeps!

I was just standing in my bedroom and heard WHM say, "stupid jackasses," apparently to nobody.
 
I went to his room and saw him standing at his wall, near a haphazard placement of stickers he'd put up yesterday.  I calmly asked, "What did you just say?"
 
WHM: Sorry, Mommy.
 
Me: Okay, but what did you say?
 
WHM: Stupid jackasses.
 
Me: That's not a nice thing to say, buddy. Don't say that again. Why did you say that?
 
WHM: Because these stupid stickers won't stick to my wall!!

--Jen

Me, by CAM

When we got home from school yesterday afternoon, CAM made this picture of me. I was was on the couch reading, Mick was next to me, WHM was asleep, and CAM sat and colored.  When she was done, she proudly showed it to me. 

"Look, Mommy, it's you!  Standing by a bunch of fruits!"

I asked her what the purple things were.  (Coconuts?  Bikini?)

She said, "No, Mommy.  You know."  I guessed, "Bikini?"

She came over to where I was sitting and touched my shirt and whispered, "No. You know."

I asked, "No, what?"

She leaned in, looked at Mick, and quietly said, "Those things you wear to cover your boobies."

Mick laughed so hard it was silent.

--Jen

We Are Not Alcoholics

However, we do listen to country music.

I'm fearing a note to the teacher may be in order.

It gets better:

I have no idea what made CAM say that her dinosaur doodled a picture of a toilet.  Perhaps the dinosaur enjoyed the contents of too many Red Solo Cups.

--Jen

Car Theology

The kids and I had to run some errands tonight.  I worked late and Mick dashed out the door almost as soon as I got in.  I spun around a few times, dropped stuff off and picked other stuff up, and the kids and I were on our way to our nearest Target, 35 minutes away.  (Does that make you cry?  It makes me cry.  Every. Single. Time.  Sadly, my days of a quick dash over to Target are behind me.  And hopefully in front of me.)  Anyway, it was a rainy night here in Maine, but thankfully not super cold.  Still, on these backroads of Maine, it's dark.  Very dark.  And the lane markers aren't that sparkly stuff that you could see from the moon if you needed or wanted to, either.  Taken together, all this stuff means that it was a bit of a challenge to drive home -- the rain, the missing sparkles, and the pitch blackness except for the occasional not-quite-helpful blinding headlights coming my way required my attention.  Two hands on the wheel. 

So, there I was -- focused on staying in the right lane and brainstorming ways to get the kids fed, bathed, and in bed by 8.  The three of us were all just quietly riding along listening to some country music.

And then the kids decided to talk about God.

Here's the best part of the conversation:

CAM:  Where does God live?
Me: Well, he's all arou-
<<INTERRUPTION BY WHM>>
WHM:  He wivs in our hearts, CAM.  God wivs in our HEARTS.  Wif Jesus.

Yep, I am definitely happy we went our kiddos to a private pre-school the past two years, and that CAM's in private school now.  These are the evening conversations that make it worth it.

--Jen

Sweet Boy

I'm posting this just so I don't forget this one day.  I was brushing WHM's teeth just now, so I sat him, as I almost always do, on the kitchen counter.  He was talking to me and commenting on the tomatoes, apples, and potatoes all in the basket or on the counter right next to him.

WHM:  Mommy, did you know apples are fwuits?
ME:  Yes, honey, I know.
WHM:  And bench-tuh-bulls.
ME:  Well, potatoes are vegatables.  Apples are fruits.
WHM:  Fruits AND bench-tuh-bulls.  Apples are fwoots and bench-tuh-bulls.  And fwuits and bench-tuh-bulls are HEALFY.

So it's not particularly funny, but it dawned on me that one day he'll just say "vegetables," "fruits," and "healthy," and he'll be a big boy just. like. that.  Kind-of like when he stopped saying Cacos (rhymes with tacos) and switched to Costco. 

I won't ever love him any less, but I wanted to remember that today, he was still my precious and sweet baby boy.

--Jen

Elmo. Nemo. Same thing.

I came home from work today with a ferocious migraine, so I asked Mick to take CAM to her ballet class (a kind-of big deal, because today was the very first day and Mick had to register her).  I put on comfy-cozies, popped two Excedrin Migraine, shut the blinds, crawled on the couch, and put on Ellen.  Oh, and covered my eyes in an effort, if not to sleep, at least to not suffer from any kind of light.

WHM snuggled in with me.  He was precious, even if he made sure I didn't so much as get a millisecond of sleep.

There was a commercial for the new 3D Finding Nemo.  Here's our conversation:

WHM:  I wuv Elmo.  I watched dat mooovie at my school yesTURday.  At my school in Georgia.  Not in Maine.
ME: You watched Finding Nemo?
WHM:  Yes.  Finding Elmo.
ME:  His name is Nemo.
WHM:  No, Elmo.
ME:  Did you watch the fish movie?
WHM:  Yes.
ME:  That fish movie on the commercial?
WHM:  Yes.
ME:  It's called Finding Nemo.
WHM:  Wight.  Elmo.

--Jen