Oh ...my... IPhone

Two days ago I got an IPhone. My kids are, well, quite happy about Angry Birds. I am quite happy about Angry Birds (and so is my husband but don't tell him because he refuses to admit he likes anything "Apple"). I can feel the inner struggle begin, though - how much can the kids play with my phone? August woke up yesterday, after knowing the IPhone for only six hours of his entire life, and the FIRST WORDS out of his mouth were "Mommy, where's your white phone?" Oscar, almost 6 years old now, played for at least 45 minutes and could have played much longer if we didn't insist he go to bed because it was 9:00. It's also the third day of November which means Halloween just happened. I loosened up and let the kids go buck wild with their candy. So, do I let them go buck wild with the IPhone? What to do...

Crazy Army Fashion

I enjoy checking out red carpet fashion. The other day Oscar climbed up in my lap as I looked online at red carpet outfits from the recent SAG awards. After declaring all the gowns "too black," "too pink," "too shiny," "too nothing" and even "too pretty," I asked Oscar what he would say when he sees a dress that he likes. His response: "Oh, I'll say 'crazy army' when I see one I like, Mommy." Yes. Yes, of course you will.

A few moments later I hear "Crazy army!" for a picture of a woman wearing a red mini-dress over dark tights. Oscar says he only likes the shirt, not the pants. I agree, thinking silently, because there are no pants, honey.

Mommy Bird, Daddy Bird

I usually only post the insane things my kids do. But not today.

When I drop off Oscar at school, there is a "Question of the Day" for the kids to answer with their parent before the parent leaves. Yesterday it was "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Now, Oscar does a lot of pretend play - he's a plumber, a mechanic, a mommy bird or a princess, but we don't talk about what he wants to be when he grows up. It's honestly never come up. So, he didn't know how to answer and that makes him shy. He slinked next to me and quietly said, "I don't know what to do" as other classmates loudly announced what they were going to be: "Astronaut!" and "Yoshi!" (I don't know what that is, but it was one girl's answer). So I said quietly to Oscar, "That's OK, you don't have to know. But sometimes you tell me that you want to be a Daddy. Would you like that to be the answer today?" And he lit up, "Yes, Mommy, yes! I want to be a Daddy!"

Not Even Ice Cream, People

"If you make me rest on this couch, I'm not going to like you, or Daddy... or the baby! Not even ice cream," Oscar informed me this weekend.

And by "informed," I mean "yelled at the top of his lungs" when I was five feet away. I mean, not even ice cream, people. This is a seriously unhappy three year old. It's my fault, of course. I was torturing him with fifteen minutes of forced rest on the couch. He could read or play quietly, but had to stay on the couch for fifteen minutes because his behavior had gottne so insufferably cranky. He almost fell asleep. But he rallied, and his rallying cry was just so good. I had to share it with you all.

Not even ice cream!

Either I Really Hate You or I Want to Get Married

This whole episode is further support of my theory that a three-year-old is really just a very small teenager. The past few days have been, well, let me be frank, hell-ish.

Every day, barely veiled anger directed at me, tantrums, clenched fists and the occasional "I hit you because I'm angry at you, Mommy." I concluded that I just can't do this anymore - this whole raising kids thing. Maybe it's time to get a job and let someone else raise my three-year-old because I am doing such a crap job of it. Let's face it, I think he hates me.

Then last night Oscar tells me that he wants to marry me. Why, I ask. He says "Because I love you soo much and you are the best lady in the whole world."

How can these two strongly opposite emotions coexist in a three-year-old? Sure, the books say this is a developmentally normal stage. I say he's a teenager in a tiny body. I wouldn't be surprised if he starts smoking next week.

p.s. the baby is not sandwich

Time has flown away into a vortex and I haven't posted here in seven months. The "Baby" in the blog title has a name now, and it isn't "Sandwich" as Oscar suggested. It is in fact, August. The "Tornado" is a big brother and seems very OK with the new family scenario, except when the baby cries very loudly. But nobody likes it when the baby does that. I should be honest, we still call him "Baby" more than we call him anything else. And a nickname has yet to emerge as the clear winner.

Just a Warning: This One is About Poop

Until recently we've been using a little toilet for Oscar - one that sits on the floor of the bathroom and must be cleaned out after every use. Last week I switched to a potty ring that sits on the adult sized toilet (and requires no cleanup!). However Oscar is used to sitting on the ground where he can stand up, look inside the potty and check on his progress, especially when he is pooping. He likes to identify the various sized and shaped poops, usually as either a snake or little balls. So, a few days ago he's sitting on the big potty and he is working on a poop. He asks me excitedly if it looks like a snake. I say we'll have to wait and look inside when he's all done. He finishes. We look inside to see several small lumps. Oscar quickly identifies it: "it's a family!"

Turns out Hooters is a great place for kids

I can't take credit for this - it's all my husband's doing. While I was out of town he took Oscar to eat lunch at Hooters. Apparently, it was awesome and Oscar had a great time. He got doted on by all the pretty ladies ("my ladies" as he calls all pretty ladies), got two balloons, a plastic fireman's helmet, a hot dog for lunch and was allowed to take off his shoes and dance in the booth.

I can't help but laugh when I think about it. It's so funny to picture them at Hooter's. Chris says none of the pretty ladies paid any attention to him; they were only interested in Oscar. Which makes it even funnier.

Deep Insights on the Potty

First thing in the morning, I take Oscar to the bathroom to use his potty. I sat with him this morning, humming a tune stuck in my head. He asked me what I was singing. I said I didn't know what it was called, I can only remember two lines which I sang for him, "It's been a long time coming...but change gonna come." It's a slow and sorrowful tune. He hung his head and said "Can't go back home." Did he pick up on the sadness of the tune? I don't know, but it seemed like an awfully grown up response for a 2.5 year old.

I Don't Want to Say Hi

For the past couple months Oscar refuses to say Hi to anyone. Even on our way to someone's house he knows and really likes, he'll clearly state before we enter, "Mommy, I don't want to say Hi." And he won't. But he loves to say Goodbye, give hugs, high fives, etc.

Then the "hi" moratorium morphed into "I don't like that person." And it ran the gamut, he didn't like anybody, he would tell me. It reached its apex, or nadir, a week ago when he said he didn't like Mommy, or Daddy, Grandma or Grandpa. Followed by a refusal to allow any kissing period by anyone at anytime.

I began to think it was about asserting himself. He was drawing his boundaries, and I could not make them budge. I don't force him to say Hi. I suggest it would be nice since these people are our friends, we like them, etc. But I let him make his own calls in this department on the theory that it's his body therefore his decision. At least for now. I encourage him to tell people what he wants or doesn't want, and generally speaking he's pretty good at communicating his needs. But lately I find myself questioning whether he has any idea what he wants.

Seems there is a lot of confusion about what he likes and doesn't like. For example he says "Mommy, I love mixer trucks." When I repeat it and start to follow up on his love of mixer trucks to see where this line of conversation might take us (maybe we'll discuss various colors of mixer trucks, or that he "someday maybe" wants to drive a mixer truck), he changes it to "No, no, I don't like them! I don't like mixer trucks!" yelling it repeatedly and will sometimes even start to cry. For a whole week, this happened about every single thing, whether he wanted a cup of milk, whether he wanted to go to the playground, you name it. It got exhausting, and I said to Chris at one point, "I think my only option left is to stop talking to him. It just works him up if I engage on any topic." We couldn't have a conversation about anything, so I let his statements lie, neither accepting or denying them. Eventually he would come to a conclusion about whether or not he wanted a cup of milk.

I'm beginning to think he's got a plain old ornery streak. And I have no idea where that came from. Not my side of the family...uh uh, no way....

What's that Name?

Usually four or five times a day Oscar will ask me "What's that name?" in regards to some new thing in his world. I tell him what it is, "Oh, that's a license plate" or "It's called a vegetable peeler." But sometimes knowing the actual word isn't enough and he will keep asking "What's that name?" as if it had a name, like people have names. Once in a while I just break down and say its name is Freddy, or something. But I almost always ask him, "What do you think its name is?" but he never gives a name. Then finally the other day, he had a response. He told me the item in question's name was, I swear, "Toots and Pink."

You Could Use A Comb, Mommy

So, its record breaking hot in Seattle and last night we sat outside with our feet in the baby pool. My girlfriends Kelly and Natalie and Oscar and I all ate dinner poolside. Oscar walked up next to my chair and as we were talking, he noticed my unshaven armpit. I'm not proud, but its been maybe three days since I shaved. He was really interested, checked it out for a while and proclaimed "Mommy, need a comb for that." I laughed. Then I encouraged him to see if Natalie and Kelly needed a comb, too. Then Natalie made the funniest remark to Oscar, "You're gonna get a lot of girls with that line."

Adventure

The other day we left the house with no plan of action. I just needed to get out and do something. Oscar kept asking me "Mommy, where are we going?" So I finally responded, "We're going on an adventure." he said "Oh, I looove adventure...(pause)...Mommy, what's an adventure?"

Big Clouds from the Sky

My son Oscar, AKA Tornado, has been retelling me a story for a few days now that goes something like this: "Big clouds come down from sky on the dirt. I no like big noisy. Make light on the ground." I think it was a dream he had about thunderstorms, as he first told me upon waking from a nap. It comes up pretty often, appropos of nothing usually. Today when it came up the story evolved to include the lizards at Nana's house and the fact that he was sitting on a table NOT a big rock. Hmm, yes, of course.