Saturday, September 26, 2009

Life is a Highway

For Christmas last year we got J a power wheel. It's Lightning McQueen, since CARS is his favorite movie, and this car was a big hit.

I hate to admit it, but we don't take him out in it often enough. Matt and I are both self proclaimed outside haters and seeing as it's Georgia and all, it's typically way too hot to be outside.

So J's driving skills are a little sub-par.

Yesterday we took him outside to "drive" Lightning. As usual, he gets in the car and turns the wheel all the way to the right and presses the gas. This causes the circle effect. Meaning, he drives in a circle around the cul-de-sac. It's kinda nice. We don't have to pay too much attention, unless a real car is coming.

Matt and I are standing there chatting and out of nowhere J comes driving straight for us. Has to be coincidence, right? Afterall, he doesn't know how to steer. But no, he aims for us again. I have to move quickly since I'm holding the baby. Meanwhile J is laughing maniacally.

I stand in the yard. It's safe there.

J: mommy come stand in the street!
Me: Why, so you can try to run me over again?
J: Yup!
Daddy: at least he's honest.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Gender confusion

I just picked J up from school. Upon getting in the car, he usually tells me about his day. Today I asked him if he had fun with his friends.

J: I play with my friends. But Mrs. Tammie wasn't there.
Me: Where was she?
J: Mrs. Tammie at the Dr. I miss Mrs. Tammie. I need her to come back.
M: Well, I'm sure you had fun with Ms. Susan.
J: I play with Ms. Susan and a big guy.
M (thinking 'big guy' must be Mrs. Tammie's substitute): What was his name?
J: Actually, it might be a lady.

I just hope he didn't fill big-guy/might-be-a-lady in on his doubts.

Feet

We always take our shoes off before coming into the house to avoid dirt and grass everywhere. J has gotten used to this. He will sit down on the kitchen stoop and pull his shoes off before coming inside. In fact, he has now started pointing out when other people wear their shoes in the house.

Yesterday, Matt was loading him into the car for an errand. He leaned into the kitchen, from the garage, to pick him up when J says "Daddy, your shoes stay outside. And your feet stay inside. No feet outside."

We're pretty sure he meant that barefeet need to stay inside, but it still cracked us up.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

An artist, he's not


Me (playing dumb as I pull J's artwork from his schoolbag): Oh my goodness! Who made this beautiful art?

J: Mrs. Tammie

Guess art isn't his best subject.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Too much observation

At bedtime tonight, I was reading J a story about animals.

Me: A camel is different because it has humps. See? This camel has 2 humps.
J: Oh. I see 1, 2 humps. Hey mommy, that's just like your boobies!

Happy "Bath-tism"



Thursday, September 3, 2009

Changing my blog title

Or, I should.

"Look mommy, I'm a pretty princess"


Only it doesn't stop with just 1 pretty princess. No, we don't discriminate here.














I'm thinking the new title should be Three Princesses and Their Queen. Guess who the Queen is? ;)

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

First Day of School


Today was J's first day of school. I'll admit, I was extremely nervous to see how the day would go. I pictured him panicking and clinging to my leg. I pictured tears, both his and mine, and an agonizing 3 hours as I sadly sat in the parking lot and waited for the day to end. It's amazing to me that the baby I just delivered is now old enough to go to preschool. I blinked and time went by.

I tried my best to prepare him for this day, warning him that mommy would not be staying with him. I got a lot of advice from other people. Most people said to tell him I was going somewhere that he hated. These suggestions were typically the grocery store, the doctor, or the mall. There's just one teensy problem with those suggestions....my kid actually LIKES those places. The grocery store gives away free cookies, the doctor gives you stickers, and the mall is a great place to hide from your mom in the clothes racks, while she has a panic attack. I honestly couldn't think of a single place that he hates to go.

And then it hit me. I'll tell him that we're going to the doctor so O can have shots. I am a genius! What kid wants to go anywhere near shots?!?

So we start the day off in a hurry because, as usual, we're running late. I'm loading the car and I hear the door slam behind me. Crap! I start to run towards it, but I'm too late. I hear that all too distinct "click". I lunge for the doorknob, hoping against hope that I'm wrong. But I'm not wrong. He's definitely locked me out. I start to panic. I'm pounding on the door screaming for him to open it. He's silent on the other side, probably panicked at my crazy sounding voice. I'm yelling, and sobbing, while I picture my poor 2 month old upstairs on my bed. I don't even have my phone with me. How on earth will I get in there?! I start to imagine J terrorizing the house, or worse, climbing onto the counter and playing with knives. I tell him to turn the lock. I did turn it mommy. I tell him to turn it the other way. Somehow this works. I think probably only 20 seconds had elapsed. But it was still the worst 20 seconds I can recall in recent times. I stumble into the house, sobbing at him to NEVER do that again. He's scared, I can tell. But my heart is still racing and that adrenaline still has me freaked out. A quick phone call to the husband confirms that we will, indeed, be storing an extra key in our garage.

Now we're really late.

We pile into the car and head towards school.

Me: Ok J, mommy's going to take you to school and you'll have so much fun!
J: I think I want you to sit in the chair in Ms. Tammie's room and watch me play.
M: No, mommy has to take O to get his shots. You don't want shots do you?

(thoughtful pause)

J: I can come with you and help O get shots. Then you can come to my school with me.
M: No, if you go to the doctor you have to get shots.

(another thoughtful pause)

J: Ok, I'll get some shots.

Shit! Plan backfired. Abort, abort!

I start to backpedal, and tell him that I simply can't stay, but I'll be back soon. I walk him to his classroom. He runs straight for a table with play forks on it. He can't be bothered to give me a hug. In fact, he'll barely look at me. He's too busy talking to Ms. Tammie about these forks. I snap a few quick pictures and bail before he starts to cry.

By 11:40, I'm in the carpool line. I'm the second car. I'm nervous to hear how it went. Surely he sobbed when he realized I was gone. 20 minutes later, when school actually ends, Ms. Tammie walks him out. He's all smiles. There were no tears. He had a blast and even used the potty twice. They painted, went outside, had a snack, read a story, and played.

My big boy did it! And I couldn't be prouder!

Checking out the fish on the way in:


Not even looking at me...see the forks in his hand?


And showing off his very first school art project: