Merry Christmas!

Clouds and Linings

The cloud:

• The stomach bug hit all of us this weekend and for some inexplicable reason, it's hitting me again. 
• The kids have the cold from hell, so Weston was up every 30 minutes last night, screaming about the fact that he had boogies and that those boogies were on his pillow and his pajamas and MY HAIR. 
• Luke's preschool class is putting on what promises to be the cutest version of the Nutcracker ever tomorrow, and I can't go because of the resurgence of the Stomach Bug That Wouldn't Die. 
• I had told a friend that I would keep her kid tomorrow so that he and Luke would get to play before we all parted ways for the holidays and now that I'm sick again, I had to cancel. 
• I made a commitment to someone to help them tonight and obviously, I had to cancel that, too.
• McMoose's project at work was supposed to be done a week and a half ago and it has dragged on and on and ON, so we haven't been able to get done any of things on my pre-travel list.
• With the busy schedule and the sicknesses, we haven't had time to order our Christmas cards. I finally spent 4 hours navigating various awful websites last night and ordered some at Target that I was supposed to be able to pick up today, except the brand new printer at our local Target broke so they cancelled our order.
• And the icing on the top of the worst cake ever is that the pattern I'm knitting has problems that I didn't catch in time, so now I have to unravel several inches of intricate work so I can fix it.

The silver:

• I am grateful that we're usually healthy and that the past few days have been an aberration rather than our normal.
• The half-hourly wakings reminded me of what it was like to have a new baby in the house and I am grateful that my kids are two and four--and sleeping solidly through the night, except on rare occasions!
• I am grateful that McMoose had already arranged to take the morning off tomorrow for the Nutcracker, so at least one of Luke's parents will be there. And I'm grateful for the camcorder, which will let me see the performance, even if I don't get to experience it myself.
• I am grateful for good friends who understand when I can't follow through on commitments I've made.
• I'm grateful that one way or the other, McMoose's vacation is almost upon us!
• I am grateful for people who keep us on their Christmas card list, even when we go a year without sending any out. I'm grateful that even though no cards were made, we still have the lovely pictures that we would have used for that purpose.
• I'm grateful for the needles and the yarn and the patterns and the cozy goodness that is knitting. I'm grateful to have the time to spend on it. I'm grateful for the relaxation it brings. I'm grateful for the excitement of beginning a new project and for the peace that comes with finishing something beautiful.

Luke, On Happiness and Tigers

Luke and I are reading The Christmas Carol together. We're still at the very beginning because it's so dense that we can only make it through a couple of pages at a time, but it's led to some interesting conversations.

Me: Do you think Scrooge is a happy person?
Luke: No.
Me: What did he think should make people happy?
Luke: Having money. And I have money and I am happy.
Me: Yes, but Scrooge has way more money than you or I or Weston or Dada.
Luke: What?! And he's still not happy?
Me: That's pretty surprising to you.
Luke: Yeah!
Me: Maybe there are other things that we have that he doesn't.
Luke: Like...our house?
Me: And who lives in our house?
Luke: Me and you and Dada and Weston and Sasha and Loki.
Me: Our family. Does Scrooge have a family?
Luke: Noooo. And no friends. Well, he had one friend. The one who's dead.
Me: Marley.
Luke: Yeah, but he's dead now. Is Scrooge unhappy because he's dead?
Me: What do you think?
Luke: If he only had one friend and the friend died, I think that would make him sad. And if he wanted to have a family and he didn't, that would make him sad. Or if he didn't want to have money, but he had a lot of it, that would make him not happy, too.
Me: So is happiness about having what you want?
Luke: Yeah. I'm happy with a toy dragon. And you're happy with knitting. And Weston...is happy when destroying my things, mostly.

Luke, stopping me mid-sentence as I read to him: What does "bloodthirsty" mean?
Me: Um...it means someone who likes to do violent things and hurt or kill people.
Luke: A tiger is not bloodthirsty.
Me: It's not?
Luke: No, because a tiger doesn't want to hurt anyone or be violent. It just wants to eat. And it likes to eat any animal and person that it sees because it just thinks they're all food. It's just what a tiger does.

A Few of My Favorite Things

Afternoon coffee. Knitting. Keeping company with a four-year-old in a cape, who is humming quietly as he sews buttons onto a piece of felt.

Innocent

Luke has a friend spending the night over and in preparation, I told him that he should not talk about anything scary while his friend was over. Of course, this is how my child translated that request...

Other Boy at bedtime: What's that sound?
Me: Just a car passing outside.
Other Boy, 10 seconds later: What's that sound?
Me: The sound of Luke's moving picture. Doesn't it sound like a waterfall?
Other Boy: Yes. But what's that quacking?
Me, quite unable to hear any quacking: Hmm...maybe it's a duck that's swimming in the lake by the waterfall.
*A low growl comes from the top bunk*
Other Boy: WHAT'S THAT SOUND?!?!
Me: That's just Luke being silly. Luke. Stop. Growling.
Luke: *Growl* That's not me growling. *Growl* That's the tiger near the waterfall. *Growl* You know, he comes out of the picture sometimes at night.
Other Boy: I AM NOT SLEEPING IN HERE!!!!

Chit-Chattin'

Luke has been all about root words lately and is constantly asking about what different word components mean. Most of the time, my answer is something like, "Um...I'm pretty sure 'train' just means train," but every once in a while, we get to have a conversation like this:

Luke: What's another word that means "four?"
Me: Quad.
Luke: Oh! Like quadriped?
Me: Yes...like quadriped. And "ped" means foot, so what do think a quadriped is?
Luke: An animal with four feet. Like a cheetah! Or a jaguar! Or really any big cat. What's an animal with three feet called?
Me: Do you have any guesses?
Luke: Um...triped! Hahaha, that's a funny one!
Me: It does sound funny! What about a biped--do you know what that is?
Luke: A two-footed animal! And...a one-footed animal is...hm...what's another word for one? Uni? Uniped!


I was sitting with Weston for a couple of minutes before he went to bed and noticed that he had a pair of his pajama pants tucked in with his menagerie of stuffed animals in the bed.

Me: Oh, there are pajama pants in here.
Weston: There's a shirt that goes with those pajamas.
Me: A pajama shirt? Yeah...it's probably dirty.
Weston: Maybe those people taked it.
Me: What people?
Weston: The neighbors.
Me: ...You think the neighbors took your pajama shirt?
Weston: Yes.
Me: Hm...I think maybe it's just in the drawer.
Weston, after thinking about it for a minute: I think my elephant baby [ie, stuffed elephant] took it.
Me: Oh. And where do you think the elephant baby put it?
Weston: In the drawer.


Lately, both boys have been asking what their food looks like. They're always looking for answers like "tiger," "shark," and "light saber."

Weston: What does this popcorn look like?
Me, distracted by a conversation with someone else: Um, it looks like a piece of popcorn.
Weston: To me, it looks like an octopus. See? It goes, "Oct, oct, oct," and swims into my mouth.

Just Say No

A man rang the doorbell during lunch. I'm a sucker for door-to-door salespeople--I don't ever buy anything from them, but I always let them do their little spiel and ask for a card or brochure (which they never, ever have) because I always think that maybe someday, I might want whatever crazy thing they're selling. So I go to the door...

Man 1: Hi! Two things. First of all, is that truck for sale?
Me: Uhhh...no.
Man 1: Aww, man. Ok. Second thing, can I do a presentation for you?
Me: About what?
Man 1: Meat! *As he says this, a van emblazoned with pictures of steaks pulls out from behind a tree and up to the front of our house, hollywood-style.*
Me: Um. How long will this take?
Man 1: I can't give an exact number, you understand, because it's interactive and I want you to understand exactly what's happening. But if I were pressed to give a ballpark figure, I'd say about...seven minutes.
Me: Ok, then. Sure.
Man 1: Are you from New Delhi?
Me: ...No...
Man 1: Bombay?
Me: ...No...
Man 1: So then, you eat meat?
Me: Yes...
Man 1: Ok, great! I'll be right back.
*He runs to the truck and he and another man come back, each carrying a box.*
Man 1: Can I come into your house?
Me: Um...
Man 1: I just don't want your neighbors to be wondering about what we're doing.
Me, worried that "meat" was a code word for some crazy new drug: Um...I...This...is more involved than what I had in mind.
Man 2: That's ok, that's ok, we can do this right here on the porch.
Me: Great. Let's do that.
Man 2: Ok, first of all, I want to ask you: who guarantees the meat in your fridge for a full year?
Me: Hm...I'm guessing you do?
Man 2: Yes! *Hands me a list of prices* I want you to disregard everything you read on there. This box of meat is $400. If you buy the beef box, I'll give you the chicken box for free. *Goes on to describe every piece of meat in the beef and chicken boxes*
Me: Uh-huh.
Man 2: But you have to do it right now. This meat is a limited time offer. If you don't buy it, I can guarantee that we'll sell it to someone in the neighborhood. I have to move this meat, you understand?
Me: O...kay...
Man 2: Ok, tell you what, why don't you pick your two favorite cuts of steak? I'll cut you a deal, a special deal. You can't tell any of the neighbors, ok? I don't want them all to expect the same deal, but you pick your two favorite cuts, and I'll give you a deal on them.
Me: I'm not prepared to buy anything today. I really just wanted some information. Do you have a brochure or something?
Man 2: No, we don't keep brochures. Let me ask you, I have traveled all over the world, and I'm really good at guessing people's background--can I guess yours?
Me: Um. I guess?
Man 2: Awesome, awesome. You're mixed, right?
Me: ...No.
Man 2: Really? I'm usually really good at spotting that.
Me: Hm.
Man 2: So then, are you from India or something?
Me: Yes.
Man 2: Oh, see? I'm great at guessing backgrounds!
Me: Hm.
Man 2: So you're the one who cooks, right?
Me: Not usually.
Man 2: Oh, really? So then, your husband cooks? Or your partner?
Me: Yes.
Man 2: Which one? Your husband or your partner?
Me: My. Husband.
Man 2: Wow, see, those are the guys to look for! The ones who can cook! You did good, girl!
Me: *Staring in complete amazement because WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!*
Man 2:Yeah, so don't you want to surprise him with some steak tonight?
Me: ...Really not.
Man 2: Ok, ok, fair enough. But can I ask you why? Is there a specific reason? 'Cuz I really have to move this meat and I can negotiate on price.
Me: It's not the price--
Man 2: What is it, then?
Me: I just, I'm just--I'm not prepared to commit to meat today. Thanks, bye.

After I went back in the house and locked BOTH locks on the door, I realized that last sentence? Really not something I ever expected to hear myself say.