Spaceships and Sharks

This afternoon, I went to get Weston when he woke up from his nap, and he instantly turned around with a worried look on his face.

West: Where is mine spaceship and mine rocket and mine horse?
Me: Your...spaceship and rocket and horse. Um...
West: They were here. They were here and now, they not here.
Me: We'll have to look for them, won't we?
West: Ay-yi-yi.
Me: Did you just say ay-yi-yi?
West: Yes, I did just say ay-yi-yi. I say ay-yi-yi be-tause I don't know where mine spaceship and mine rocket and mine horse are. So I say ay-yi-yi.

Later, we took Luke to his gymnastics class and Weston sat sullenly, mad that he couldn't join his brother in class. I thought that perhaps, he might enjoy playing with the other younger siblings of the kids in class...

Me: West, why don't you go play with the other kids?
West, pointing into the gym with a hopeful expression: Play with the kids in there?
Me: No. Play with the little kids out here.
West: Play with the BABIES?! No. I stay here with mine saw. [For reference, he had brought a toy saw and toy pliers with him.]

A couple of minutes later, one of the little two-ish-year-olds came over and tried to talk to West about his truck. Weston, backing as close to me as possible, glared and muttered, "That boy is talking to me. I don't want that boy talk to me."

Eventually, he did decide to go play with "that boy," and the two of them went and sat on the floor together. About five minutes in, Weston began to sound ornery again, so I went and checked on them. The explanation I was given was this: "This [pointing to the blue, tile floor] is the ocean! This [pointing to his toy pliers] is a shark! The shark will bite that boy's truck, chomp! This is not a road! Do not drive here be-tause this is the ocean."

Car Games

We had a 40 minute drive home this afternoon and about 25 minutes in, Luke started moaning about being bored.

Me: Wanna sing a song?
Luke: Noooo.
Me: Wanna tell me about what you read in your tarantula book?
Luke: Noooooo.
Me: Wanna pick a CD to listen to?
Luke: NOOOOOOOOOO.
Me: ....Wanna play an adding game?
Luke: Oooooh, YES!!

The game we played was this:
1+1=2
2+2=4
4+4=8
8+8=16
....and so on. We continued this until we got to 4096, by which time we were sitting in our driveway.

Me: Ok, we're home. Let's go in.
Luke: Noooo! Let's do 4096+4096.
Me: We can do it inside, after I put Weston in his bed.
Luke: He looks comfortable sleeping in his carseat.
Me: He does not. Inside.
Luke: FINE.

So we go in, I transfer Weston to bed and go back downstairs, only to find Luke sitting at the bottom of the stairs, chanting quietly, "4096, 4096, 4096, 4096."

Of course, we did 4096+4096. Which then led to 8192+8192. Which then led to a completely ridiculous and unrelated discussion about the surface of the Earth, gravity, and the possible existence of aliens on Saturn and Jupiter. ("Well, Mama, there could be aliens there...we haven't ever been there, so how would we know?")

My favorite part of all of this were his exclamations when we got to each new answer--"Awesome!" and "Amazing!" and "Whoa, we got all the way into the thousands! This is so fun!" I want him to always think learning is amazing and fun. Ironically, I'm pretty sure school will cure him of such notions.

Waiting...

...for travel plans to be made.

...for travel documents to be procured.

...to hear back about where Luke will be going to school next year.

...to hear back from the baby-sitter because date night is long overdue.

...to finalize plans with friends.

...to finalize plans with geese. (No, really.)

...for new contacts.

...for Daylight Savings Time to go ahead and start because sunset at 6 pm is loathsome.

I am horrible, HORRIBLE at waiting (patiently.)

Contradictory

Playing in the last bits of snow and ice while wearing t-shirts on this 65° day. Only in Raleigh.

That Little Voice

Luke is currently very interested in why we choose and eat the foods we do. We talk about our meals in terms of proteins, vegetables, fruits, and starches and recently, we've been talking about the fact that certain kinds of proteins and starches are healthier than others. Along the way, he said that cookies are a starch, and that they therefore should be part of a healthy meal and I countered by saying that yes, they do contain starch, but that since they're generally made with white flour and a lot of sugar, they're not exactly healthy. Since then, he has been overly conscious of the sugar content of things, but in a very four-year-old way. He's perfectly happy to eat cake and ice cream and cookies, but balks at things like salsa and pasta sauce, which also contain sugar among their ingredient lists. (Real reason he won't eat salsa and pasta sauce: tomatoes. But tomatoes are a fruit, so he refuses to flat out admit that they are the offensive ingredient, choosing instead to scapegoat the sugar.) Today, I was adding sugar to my very, very strong coffee in small increments so as to not over-sweeten it and he watched me with an increasingly horrified expression:

Luke, as I added the first half-spoon of sugar: Mama, you know sugar isn't really good for you.
Me: Yes, thanks for being concerned, Luke. I'm just adding a little bit.
Luke, as I added the second half-spoon of sugar: Mama. That's a LOT of sugar.
Me: It's just half a spoonful. Don't worry about it.
Luke, as I added the third less-than-half-spoon of sugar: MAMA. Do NOT add ANY more sugar to that! It is very, very bad for you!

Ay-yi-yi. I need a four-year-old food-conscience like a moose needs a hat.

The Birds

When it started snowing, I glanced out at our empty bird feeder and decided that perhaps I should fill it up, just in case any hungry avian visitors showed up. No sooner had I done so than an entire troop of sparrows arrived, as if by invitation. And after the sparrows departed, some juncos came to call, and then a group of chickadees, then a pair of cardinals, and even a blue jay. Now that the weather has cleared up, they're off hunting for more exciting goodies, but we have enjoyed their company for the past couple of days.

Horses and Cheetahs

Our lunch today was a pasta salad with peas, tomatoes, and white beans. The first time the kids saw it, they decided that they were horses and that the pasta and white beans were their oats and the tomatoes and peas were their apples. And then, they took it a step further and asked to sit in the doorways while eating so they could be in their "stables."

I replied that we would be eating at the table and asked them to kindly tailor their game to that reality. After a quick discussion, they decided that they could be cheetahs instead. "Of course, Mama, cheetahs are meat eaters," said Luke, "so I guess that means...the pasta is deer legs, the tomatoes are red blood cells, the beans are the insides of clams, and the peas are the meat of dead porcupines, but without the spikes."

I find myself wishing I had just let them eat in the doorways.