Me: wow, that’s a pretty scary looking dinosaur. I wouldn’t want to see it come jumping out at me!
Ian: well, I would just swing my shovel and it would be very pointy and dangerous.
Me: you mean if that dinosaur came at you?
Ian: yes. I would just swing my shovel and it would have to stay back. Swish swish, I’d swing it back and forth.
Whacking danger in the face with a shovel… He’s a boy after my own heart.
Ian is mimicking Keeghan crawling and pulling up. Both think this is the funniest thing EVER.
Ian: (accompanied by the semi-hysterical, semi-maniacal giggle that means we missed bedtime) Look at my butt! Everyone look at my butt! It’s my butt! Look! I’m showing my butt!
Keeghan: BUTT! BUUUUUTT! BUTT!
Michael: Oh, man, the floodgates are just opened, aren’t they?
Me: … (facepalm)
Gonna be a bad bug year.
Last night while feeding the kids dinner, Ian announced, “The toaster is a robot.” I wasn’t really paying him my full attention, but I answered him anyway, which is always a mistake. Just for the record.
Me: That would be awesome, sweetie, but it’s just a machine.
Ian: No, it’s not. It’s a robot.
Me: Okay. We can pretend it is.
Ian: But it makes toast all by itself, Mommy. Why? Why isn’t it a robot?
Me: uhh…
I actually had to google the difference between a robot and a machine. The answer? A robot’s function is determined by its programming. A machine’s function is mechanical. So, since we cannot reprogram the toaster and have it produce, say, pottery, pizza, or eggs, ergo it is not a robot. He seemed satisfied with that answer, and I didn’t get the “Mommy is an idiot” face during any of the ensuing discussion about robots vs. toasters, so I guess we’ll put this one in the “win” column, next to “What’s God?” and “Who’s Barbie?”
Tuesday on the way to preschool, Ian started chanting “stupid dummy stupid dummy stupid dummy stupid dummy.”
“Mommy, YOU’RE A STUPID DUMMY!”
Now, this is not a first. Apparently 4 year olds are prone to this, and one of his teachers tells me that some cartoons intended for this age group use this language quite liberally. But we’ve had MANY “positive” conversations about how these are words that can hurt.
And my boy is not a mean boy. He is a sweet boy who becomes distressed when others are upset. He is a child who says, “It’s okay, Keeghan, you don’t have to cry, we’re right here. Shhh…. it’s okay!”
He is a boy who values friendships. But he’s also a boy who thinks “STUPID” and “DUMMY” sound hilarious. And as my mother said, “Nobody wants their kid to be THAT kid.”
So, one minute before school started, and the “That Kid” control was turned up to 11. So we had a moment of what I call “Shock and Awe” parenting.
I told Ian that he would have to go home and spend the afternoon in his room if he didn’t stop. And to prove my point, we were walking toward the car at the time.
The subsequent meltdown in the middle of the building made me feel like The Worst Mommy on Earth. Like I was Picking On My Baby. Nobody wants to make their child miserable, but the other horn of this dilemma is to let my child think making other people’s children feel horrible is okay. Or to hope “someone else” will teach him that it’s not. And this, most certainly, is where bullies are made. Because the longer a child is permitted to think this is funny, the funnier it will be. And for sure, the day that he realizes he is bigger than me is not the day to try and impress upon him that, however funny, hurting others is not okay. (Even though sometimes WE DO WISH IT WERE when we are angry.)
How about you- are you willing to die on this mountain? Because I think I did. And I think I’ll be doing it as often as necessary. Rinse. Repeat.
What you are looking at is the best yogurt I have ever eaten. It doesn’t taste like yogurt. It tastes like cheesecake. I may never stop eating it.
Mind you, I DID make it from whole milk. Wow, is it good! I’ll be trying lowfat and skim milk in the near future. WOW!
(If you’ve just come in, you can find the recipe I used here. It uses your crock pot and it couldn’t be easier.)
For a while, there was some doubt I’d be able to try draining the home made yogurt, because Ian was eating it, still warm, as though he’d never get enough.
I tasted it and I can say I’d happily eat it exactly as it came out. I also plan to try it once I’ve drained it and added fruit.
In the mean time, the whole house smells like vanilla.