Stinky Diapers

His Ears DO Work!

Apparently, the Boy Who Never Stops Talking has also been listening! Who knew that your ears still worked when your mouth never stops running?

On the way home from  school, I always ask the Bomber to tell me about one thing during his school day that he really liked, other than lunch, recess, nap and aftercare.  I started doing this because asking him what he did that day was getting me "I don't remember" and "I don't know" and lots of blank looks, but having to come up with one specific thing usually starts a dialogue about all the things he did that day.

Anyway, yesterday when I asked the question he immediately said library (which is virtually always the answer on Thursdays).  Then he said "Mommy, I got a Toy Story book and [classmate] told me Toy Story is for babies and so is my book."   "Well, what did you say?" I asked.  "I told him that if he didn't like Toy Story that was okay, but I like it and I don't think it's for babies. And then I told him that my mommy says that everyone likes different things, and that's okay, but it's not okay to tell people that what they like isn't the right thing, just because you don't like it."

This is a speech I have given so many times, I was considering having cards printed up and just handing it to him every time it comes up.  But lo and behold, the child was apparently listening to me! And not just that, he actually got the point! And used it! In an appropriate context!

It was one of those beautiful moments when you catch a glimpse of the person you hope your child someday might become, and realize that maybe you're not doing such a bad job with this parenting thing after all.  And truly, it's those moments that keep you going on those days when you start to wonder what the heck you're doing, and if your child is too young for military boarding school. 

So, I guess he's escaped military boarding school again... at least for now...

You Have No Idea, Kid

It's been forever since I wrote anything here, mostly because I've been too busy with life to write, but here's a quick one to start the new year (no resolutions to blog more this year, though...)

Yesterday on the way to the supermarket, the Bomber said "Mommy, is it the year 2012?"  "Yep," I said, "it is."  There was a thoughtful silence, and then "Wow. Time sure does roll by fast." 

Kid, you have NO idea.

Putting the Boom-Chicka-Wow-Wow in Chicka Chicka Boom Boom

Yesterday on the way home from school, the Bomber asked me to turn down the radio (which I'd turned up at his request, by the way) because he had something he wanted to talk to me about.  Since this sounded pretty important, I turned the radio way down and said "what's on your mind, kiddo?"

"Well, Mommy," he said in his most serious voice, "I've been with Ms. Cooper for two and half years now [actually just under two, but who's counting?], and I've been with Ms. White for a year and a half [again, nine months, but he's four and doesn't have an entirely firm grasp on the passage of time] and I'll be leaving them soon. So I've been thinking...."

"Yes?"

"I should get them presents before I go." 

I was touched and pleased that he'd come up with something so nice, since preschoolers are not exactly known for their thoughtfulness.  "That's a great idea, kiddo! What do you think we should get them?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "I think we should get them some kind of adult toys."

Hey, I guess when you've been with a woman that long, you know what she likes....

 

Some Random Stuff

The H-Bomb is a funny, opinionated, talkative, perceptive little person lately, and he says and does things that crack me up on a regular basis. I feel like I should walk around with a notepad to try to remember them all, but instead I'm just going to jot them down here.

1. The other day we were driving home from preschool and there was an enormous sigh from the back seat. "What's the matter, kiddo?" I asked him. More sighing. "Life is SO. HARD." He even kind of flipped the back of hand up to his forehead, as if he were too fatigued to bear it for one. more. minute.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that hanging out with his friends, doing crafts and getting a hot meal and two snacks a day is pretty much as good as it gets.

2. On Super Bowl Sunday night we got the Bomber into bed right around his regular time and had him tucked in and lights out by 7:45 PM.  Larry had DVRed the game, so he was watching and I hung around with him in the living room until about 9:45, when I decided to head upstairs and fold laundry.  I was standing in the bedroom folding, when I heard noises that I thought were the cat, coming from the craft room (which is attached to the bedroom by a big walk-in closet). When I went in there, though, I found the Bomber, sitting on the floor with my super-sharp lefty scissors, my Xyron sticker maker, and several sheets of $1.00/page scrapbooking paper.  He was just a-hummin' and a-cuttin' and a-stickerin'.  Until he looked up and saw me standing the doorway. The look on his face when he realized he was busted was absolutely priceless.  Larry later asked him what on earth he'd been thinking... "I wasn't tired! And I wanted to craft!"

3. Two Fridays ago I took the day off work and went with the preschool on its annual field trip to the circus.  I took H out of school for the rest of the day, and we went McDonald's (which is a major treat for him, since we very rarely eat there) and got a Happy Meal, and then sat in the park and ate it. Then we headed to AC Moore, where H had a conversation with the cashier. 

Cashier: "So what have you been up to today?"
Bomber: "We went to McDonald's!" :displays Happy Meal toy:
Me: "And what else did we do today?"
Bomber: "Ate in the park!"
Me: "What about before McDonald's?" 
Bomber: "Um... went to school...."
Me: "What about after that?"
Bomber: "Um...um...went potty?"
Me: "What about between school and potty? Maybe something with elephants?"
:blank stare:
"Acrobats?"
:more blank stare:
"CLOWNS?!?!?"
Bomber: "OH. Yeah, we went to the circus."  

The cashier was hysterical that a four year old could possibly have forgotten the circus within three hours of going there.  Next year, I guess we'll save the $35 bucks for the circus tickets and overpriced popcorn and go straight for the Happy Meal.

4. This past Friday morning I got a call from the preschool that the kiddo was complaining that his throat hurt.  The teacher said I didn't need to come get him just yet, but she'd monitor him through naptime and let me know. Around 3:30, which coincidentally was just after the Valentine's Day social ended, she called back and said he was really complaining now, and could I come get him "to take him to the doctor." When I got there, he was having a great time playing with his friends, until he saw me, and then he put on his best woe-is-me face and stuck his lower lip out. "My throat hurts!"

He complained about his throat as we walked down the hall, until we got about 10 feet from the door. Then he stopped and said "when we get home, I think I should lay down on the couch and watch TV." I agreed. "Or maybe play a little Wii." When I explained that little boys who are sick do not play Wii, he told me "my throat only hurts a teeny teeny little bit. I think I could stil play Wii."  He was very disgruntled when I told him home sick from school=rest on the couch, not Wii playing. I don't think his brilliant "get Mommy to pick me up early on a Friday afternoon" plan worked out nearly as well as he was hoping.

I Think I've Made a Small Tactical Error

Last night after school, we took the Bomber to see Santa at the mall out in the suburbs. To get there, you basically have to take the one route out of the city, which we usually avoid at all costs from 5:00 PM to 6:30 PM, Monday - Friday.  So naturally we got stuck in traffic, and after a few moments of fielding "why are we stopping? when are we going to start moving? what if Santa leaves before we get there?" questions, I decided to distract him by telling him a knock-knock joke. Sadly, I chose this one:

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Lemon.

Lemon who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Lemon.

Lemon who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Lemon.

Lemon who?

After you've repeated that a bunch of times, you say "orange" in response to "who's there."

Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn't say lemon again?

Now I realize this is as old, and as bad, as they come, but the Bomber thought it was aboslutely hilarious, and immediately wanted to say it back to me. Which he did, twice. Then, he decided to make up his own versions, which all went something like this:

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Lemon.

Lemon who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Peach.

Peach who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Apple.

Apple who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Pear.

Pear who?

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

Orange.

Orange who?

Orange I didn't say pear again?

Followed by gales of laughter. Clearly, he did not get the point of the joke (especially since he left out the words "you glad" every time), but this didn't seem to bother him. By the end of the car trip (and for a good portion of the trip home) he was pretty much just spitting out the names of fruits and vegetables and cackling like a crazy person. I tried to distract him with the other knock-knock jokes I know (all one of them), but his train of produce could not be derailed. And by the time he got to "Orange potato I didn't say Mommy again?" I was cracking up myself, which only reinforced his own belief in his comedic genuis.

I have a terrible feeling I'm going to be listening to increasingly absurd versions of this knock-knock joke for a VERY long time. 

And orange you glad you don't have to listen, too?

 

The Real Reason Dinosaurs Are Extinct

These days H-Bomb is really into dinosaurs.  He watches Dinosaur Train, has a multitude of books on dinosaurs, and has acquired a good-sized collection of toy dinosaurs. He can name  a huge number of different dinosaurs and their features, and can explain what those features are for. 

For example, tyrannosaurus rex had several rows of long teeth to help him eat his dinner, which is usually made up of other dinosaurs.  Ankylosaurus, on the other hand, had bony plates and a spiked tail to help him avoid his creditors.  When asked to describe the purpose of a triceratops frill, or give the reason that ornithomimus runs so fast, my child will invariably tell you it was to avoid their creditors. 

And then one day, some slick lawyer dinosaur probably came along and convinced them that a numbered account in the Caymans was a better bet, and before long they stopped swinging their spiked tails or using their camoflauge, and some giganotosaurus came along and ate them. And the slick lawyer dino, too. Then with nothing to eat and no way to access the off-shore account, the meat-eaters died out too.  And that, my friends, is what really happened to the dinosaurs. You heard it from the Bomber first.

A Tale of Two Tales

The Very Busy Caterpillar, as told by the H-Bomb

Once upon a time, there was a caterpillar who was very busy building his cocoon. He kept trying, but he didn't really know how, so his cocoon kept falling apart. One day he figured out how to build it, and it stayed up, and he was happy. The end.

The Very Hungry Spider, as told by the H-Bomb

Once there was a spider who lived on a web. She was very hungry, so every day she ate a strawberry, a blueberry and some vanilla ice cream. Then she ate something healthy, too. The end.

Yesterday after the fair, the Bomber and I were playing one of his favorite games - "I'll Be the Daddy (or sometimes Mommy) and You Be the Baby."  He had me lay down in his old toddler bed, which is currently living in the guest room, and he "read" me these two stories. When he told me he was going to read me The Very Busy Caterpillar, I said "don't you mean The Very Hungry Caterpillar?"  He got very huffy and asked me "Am I reading the story or are you?"  I wonder where he got THAT from?

The kid's no Eric Carle, that's for sure, but I really enjoyed them anyway. Maybe tonight he'll read me Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You Hear, or The Very Tired Firefly.

First Thing We Do, Let's Kill All the Lawyers

Yesterday Harrison and I were driving to his haircut appointment, and he was telling me about something he learned on Sid the Science Kid.  During the conversation he told me thinks scientists are cool and smart, so I pointed out that Daddy is also a scientist.

"What kind of scientist is Daddy?" he asked.  "A brain scientist," I told him. "And I'm a dinosaur scientist!" he decided. "What kind of scientist are YOU, Mommy?"  "Oh, I'm not a scientist," I told him. "I'm a lawyer." 

There was a long pause, and then a disappointed sigh.  Then, "that's okay, Mommy, I love you anyway."

Gee thanks, kid. 

If You Don't Like This Post, the Computer Wrote It All By Itself

In the last three years or so, I've heard a lot of reasons why the H-bomb shouldn't be an only child, but one of my absolute favorites has always been "without a sibling, who is he going to blame stuff on?"  Turns out, only children are pretty resourceful - even without actual other people to blame, they're still pretty good at shifting the burden. I actually always assumed he'd blame the cat, and he has tried that once or twice, but mostly she's not around when he's doing naughty stuff enough to be really useful in that capacity. Instead, he's taken to blaming inanimate objects. Recently, we've had a spate of conversations like this:

"Bomber, who spilled this apple juice onto your plate?" "The cup!" "The cup? The cup spilled itself?"  "Yes, the cup tipped over! I tried to stop it, but it just kept going."

"H-bomb, if you step on the Little People farmer, it'll hurt your feet." "I didn't step on it! It did something to me!" "It did? What did it do?" "It hurt my foot!"

"H, how did your ball get stuck in the cat door?" "It was trying to go through, but it didn't fit."

So there you go. Any of you who were worried about who my kid is going to blame things on, you can rest assured, he's got it all figured out.

Hail to the Chef, I Mean Chief

Lately the H-bomb has been slightly obsessed with our new president. We have to examine the giant poster of him in the hallway at school pretty much every day, and he really digs saying "Barack Obama," so he inserts him into conversations whenever possible.  This is probably not that odd, since Obama was a huge topic of conversation at school, especially in the days leading up to the inauguration, and they've been doing Black History Month stuff that features him pretty prominently.

What is strange, though is that he's really concerned with Mr. Obama's eating habits. Right after the inauguration, Larry told me that on the way home from school he'd insisted Larry stop at the supermarket, because Barack Obama was hungry.  The other day I heard him singing to himself in another room, so I went to listen.  The song went like this: "Barack Obama, Barack Obama NEEEEEDS something to EEEAAATTT! Barack Obama, Barack Obama, HE needs something to EAT!"  Then this morning, he asked me where Larry (who is currently out of town) was. Since I'd told him half a dozen times, I said, "You tell me! Where is Daddy?"  His answer? "He's having lunch with Barack Obama!"  Then he laughed like a little maniac. Wacky kid.