Questions

If he could give me relevant and rational answers, I would pose the following questions to West:

1. Why do you always seem to be starving? You had a snack at 7, breakfast at 8, another snack at 10, and lunch at 12:30. At each one of those, you acted like you might actually wither away and die if I didn't feed you right.that.second. I don't understand.

2. How is it possible that, eating the way you do, you haven't gained a single ounce in over four months? Where does it all go??? Do you have a pouch you keep it in? (Actually, I think he uses it all to grow his feet, nails, and hair.)

3. Why is it that you can calmly ask me for something and when I give you what you asked for, you have a screaming meltdown? Have you forgotten that you wanted it? Did your brother dare you to drive me to the brink of insanity?

4. Why is it so important that you must always get out of the car on Luke's side and not your own? Are the doors different in some way?

5. You seem to have some kind of matrix to help you decide which toys are special to you on any given day. Could you clue me into your thought process? I think that might be easier than randomly yelling that you're disappointed in me because I offered Luke a stuffed animal that you haven't acknowledged in weeks.

Success!

I knitted Luke a sweater and it actually fits!! All of my past sweater attempts have been dismal failures, so this was an exciting moment for me. I don't love the neck line on this pattern, but I do love the colors and more importantly, it's super soft and Luke loves to wear it.

What's for Lunch?

I was a picky eater as a kid and ever since I came out of that, I've taken it for granted that my kids would probably be picky eaters too. And by "picky eaters," I was expecting that they'd find a favorite food or two and then refuse to eat other things, since that was my M.O. Instead, I've ended up in some insane, alternate universe of kid-eating.

-Weston's current obsession is pickled jalapenos. I cannot make this up. When he declares that he doesn't like something, all I have to do is dip it in the "jalapeno sauce" and he'll eat it right up. The down side of this is that every time I get out the jalapenos, he sits there like a baby bird, mouth wide open, begging for another slice. ("It 'picy! I yike it!")

-Our lunches are pretty open ended most of the time and I'm willing to (help) make separate lunches for each of them. I ask them each to pick a protein, a veggie, a fruit, and a starch and they're getting pretty good at distinguishing which is which. Today, Luke ended up eating leftover grilled lamb, a slice of toast, lima beans, a banana and spinach concoction (which was apparently so delicious that I had to remove him from the kitchen to keep him from licking the blades of the blender,) and frozen spinach right out of the bag. And that right there? Is the reason I'm okay with making separate lunches. If I had to eat that, I might fall over and die.

-And in case you're curious, Weston ate leftover chicken noodle soup, hold the chicken, with some jalapenos added in. So basically, he ate a few noodles and a lot of carrots and jalapenos. And the banana spinach thing and some fake (ie, soy and rice based) cheese. He is well on his way to veganism.

My child self sneers at them in disdain. Heck, even my adult self has a more...discerning...palate. 

Pre-bedtime Insanity

So this just happened...

Weston: *makes smacking noises with his mouth*
Me: What are you eating? *Reach over, pull a cat whisker out of his mouth*
Weston: What WAS that?!
Me: It was a cat whisker. Not food.
Weston: Why?! Can I have it?
Me: No!
Weston: I want it! I want eat it! I disappointed!!!

Perfect

I woke up to a rainy day and breathed a sigh of relief. My eyes, tired of looking at sunshine, relaxed into the muted gray of the world and I slipped slowly from Sleep to Awake, pulling the cloudy softness of the day around me like an old, wooly blanket.

We headed off to school singing along to a song about making banana pancakes and playing hooky. "Ain't no need to go outside," I sang, even as we gathered up umbrellas and raincoats to do exactly that.

Last minute plans were made and broken and made once again and instead of spending the morning at home, we met some friends and played. I remembered that the cure to feeling isolated is to stop isolating yourself--a simple solution, but a difficult pattern to break.

Preschool pick-up included splashing in mud puddles, running across the lawn, balancing on wooden beams beside the sidewalk as we meandered back to the car, none of us particularly inclined to get out of the slight drizzle. Our voices stayed low as we related to each other the stories of our day.

A lazy lunchtime, interrupted by the reading of books and comparing of heights. They were quite surprised to find that I'm still the tallest of the bunch.  A quiet time of rest, when we all got to do the things that renew us--knit, read, nap. When I tried to go into Luke's room at the end of two hours, he told me in no uncertain terms that he was still enjoying his "peaceful quiet time." Do you want me to stay and read with you, I asked. "I'm happy reading this book by myself. I know where I am in this book. I'm just waiting for you to leave before I start reading again." Right. Off I go then, back to my knitting, my rocking, my writing.

Ingredients

As an infant, Weston had no love for pacifiers, but now, he's obsessed with them when he finds them around. He carries them around, sticks them in his mouth (usually upside down) and refuses to give them up for 20 minutes or so, until the next obsession strikes. This morning, he found one in the car and popped it into his mouth before I had any idea what he was doing.

Me: Oh, yuck, Weston! I have no idea how long that was in here.
Weston: It not yuck. It pasta-fire.
Me: Pacifier.
Weston. Pasta-fire. It got things inside.
Me: What kinds of things?
Weston: Some fire. Some pasta. It yummy!

Blech.

Comparing Carrots and Apples

Luke wants a sticker chart. You know, one of those things that lists out the kids' "jobs" and you put a sticker on it every time they do the task and when they get x number of stickers...something happens? So I've toyed with the idea of sticker charts in the past and just, I can't. Because (a) it would be too easy to turn it into this constant bribe/threat and (b) I can't for the life of me think of what jobs to put on there. (Note: when I say it would be too easy to turn into a bribe/threat, I mean that it would be too easy *for me* to do that. I know this is a super successful technique and lots of people use it, love it, do it in a way that feels very genuine and non-coercive to them, but my personality is such that during times of stress, I would look to the chart as an easy way to have some power over the kids. And really, any tool that I frame as a way to have power is probably not a tool that I can use in a responsible way.)

But getting beyond the vague, this-doesn't-sit-well-with-me feeling, there's the fact that I do not know what to put on this thing. I mean, if he were a few years older, I imagine I could include things like doing the dishes and vacuuming and whatever. But he's four. And he already does the things that I think he's capable of and that are important to me. He gets himself dressed. He brushes his teeth, albeit with us "checking" his work when he's done. He puts away his laundry when asked and even folds it when asked. He clears his dishes from the table after meals. He picks up his toys when asked. He puts up his shoes and his towel and puts his clothes in the hamper. He cleans up his spills and helps with whatever random cleaning project I've taken on. So do I put things on the sticker chart that he has already mastered and therefore reward him for doing things that he currently does without reward? Or do I come up with new tasks that I'm not really invested in? (By the way, typing out this paragraph has made me realize that we are not currently working on anything as far as behavior is concerned. When he does something that is dangerous or annoying or whatever, I tell him that it's dangerous or annoying or whatever and he either says "All right," and stops doing it or tries to think of ways to make it safe and/or not-annoying and if his solution sounds reasonable to me, I let him run with it. Our days are peaceful and rational. I never thought I'd see the day.)

And also, what's the carrot here? What happens when he has however many stickers we've agreed on? Do I give him money? A toy? Candy? An actual carrot? Our conversation on the subject went something like this:

Luke: I want stickers and I want to put them in a line and collect them when I do things.
Me: And then, what would happen?
Luke: When I have a whole line of them, I get money.
Me: And what would you use the money for?
Luke: I'd buy a loaf of green apples.
Me: Do you mean a bag of green apples?
Luke: Yes. I'd buy a bag of green apples. And oranges. And pears. And peaches.
Me: Lots of different kinds of fruit, huh?
Luke: Yes. And then, I could eat them whenever I was hungry.

So my kid wants a reward chart (which I don't want to make) in order to earn money (which I'm already okay with him having) in order to buy fruit (which we have in abundance and which he has near-constant access to) to eat when he is hungry (which he never is. Ever. He eats three meals and three, sometimes four, snacks a day. Eating is pretty much a state of existence around here.) And he wants me to make him this chart tonight so that he can get started on it tomorrow morning. I get the feeling that someday, he's going to be the kid who loves taking tests so he can see the smiley face sticker and the "Good job," written at the top of the paper.

Luke, on Taking Charge of Your Destiny

Luke recently mentioned that while we were at the park, 10 minutes went by really fast, but it doesn't seem as fast when we're doing less exciting things. I thought it was the perfect time to introduce the idea of idioms and told him that "Time flies when you're having fun." He interpreted it in a very literal manner, as 4-year-olds like to do, and now, whenever I say something like, "Ok, we have 10 minutes to finish eating, put on our shoes, and get in the car," he replies with, "That's a long time--just make sure you don't have any fun!" And of course, when he says that, it makes me laugh and then, when we're late (as we invariably are,) he accuses me of having too much fun and causing time to go too fast.

Today, we were discussing the merits of lemons and I told him that there's another idiom that goes, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."

Luke: What does that mean?
Me: It means the same as that Daniel Tiger song--"When something seems bad, turn it around and find something good." Remember?
Luke: Yes. But what's bad about lemons?
Me: Well, there's not necessarily anything bad about lemons, but a lot of people find them too sour.
Luke: But I looooove sour things, so I looooove lemons. So if life gave me lemons, I'd be really happy!
Me: Yes, I suppose you would.
Luke: But what if you were a person who really loved lemons and life never, ever gave you lemons? There would be nothing good about that.
Me: Yes, that would be disappointing.
Luke: I know! You could go to the grocery store and just buy lemons and then, you'd have them and you wouldn't have to wait for life to give them to you.