Luke: Mama, I want to do something fun.
Me: Play dough?
L: No.
Me: Painting?
L: No.
Me: Lego?
L: No.
Me: Well, what then?
L: You could teach me to write in cursive.
Me:.....Oh.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Beating Boredom
Friday, May 23, 2014
Where We Are
Having a five-year-old and a nearly-three-year-old is a very nice place to be, I've discovered. Here are some of the reasons why...
-We can put together an impromptu camping trip with 36 hours of notice. A year ago, this would have been unfathomable.
-We get hearty applause and a joyful little voice saying, "Good job!" every time we find a parking space or put on our shoes.
-They can help each other with things like getting a drink of water or finding and putting on their own shoes so sometimes, we're actually on time to things. (I did say sometimes.)
-They help feed the pets and walk the dog and read to the cat. (Ok, Luke reads to the cat. Weston memorizes the books we read to him and recites those to the cat. Either way, it occupies kid and cat.)
-They share things with me and each other at the moments when I least expect them to. ("Here, Mama, you can have half of my cookie.")
-They can entertain each other without completely wrecking the house...or each other. Sometimes.
-They at least try to clean up their own messes. Like earlier this week, when Weston spilled powdered crayons all over the living room and tried to wipe it up with a napkin. (It made the mess worse. So, so much worse. But he tried. Also: whose fault was it for buying powdered crayons for a craft in the first place? Oh, right, MINE.)
-The sleep. Oh, my goodness, the sleep! In a giant bed by ourselves with no toddler feet in our faces and no toddler knees in our ribs. THE SLEEP!
-They can both open doors, so no one can close anyone else in or out of a room.
-They can both turn on lights, so one cannot terrorize the other by leaving him in a dark room.
-They have discussions like this:
W, pointing to a map: Look, it's Jupiter.
L: Um, no. That's actually Australia.
W: It is not Australia! It's Jupiter.
L: It's really Australia. Jupiter is a PLANET. Australia is a CONTINENT. So it has to be Australia.
W: Then where's Jupiter?
L: It's...in space.
W: Where's Jupiter ON THIS MAP?
L: That is a map of the world, not the solar system. Jupiter can't even be on it.
W: You're a mean, mean, meanie. You're a potato. You're a mean, meanie, potato meanie, Luke.
-Yes, I know the above conversation might seem to some like a con of having kids this age instead of a pro, but I don't see it that way because (a) it's funny and (b) I am not the person trying to talk sense into an irrational being. I just get to sit there and giggle into my cup of tea.
-We can put together an impromptu camping trip with 36 hours of notice. A year ago, this would have been unfathomable.
-We get hearty applause and a joyful little voice saying, "Good job!" every time we find a parking space or put on our shoes.
-They can help each other with things like getting a drink of water or finding and putting on their own shoes so sometimes, we're actually on time to things. (I did say sometimes.)
-They help feed the pets and walk the dog and read to the cat. (Ok, Luke reads to the cat. Weston memorizes the books we read to him and recites those to the cat. Either way, it occupies kid and cat.)
-They share things with me and each other at the moments when I least expect them to. ("Here, Mama, you can have half of my cookie.")
-They can entertain each other without completely wrecking the house...or each other. Sometimes.
-They at least try to clean up their own messes. Like earlier this week, when Weston spilled powdered crayons all over the living room and tried to wipe it up with a napkin. (It made the mess worse. So, so much worse. But he tried. Also: whose fault was it for buying powdered crayons for a craft in the first place? Oh, right, MINE.)
-The sleep. Oh, my goodness, the sleep! In a giant bed by ourselves with no toddler feet in our faces and no toddler knees in our ribs. THE SLEEP!
-They can both open doors, so no one can close anyone else in or out of a room.
-They can both turn on lights, so one cannot terrorize the other by leaving him in a dark room.
-They have discussions like this:
W, pointing to a map: Look, it's Jupiter.
L: Um, no. That's actually Australia.
W: It is not Australia! It's Jupiter.
L: It's really Australia. Jupiter is a PLANET. Australia is a CONTINENT. So it has to be Australia.
W: Then where's Jupiter?
L: It's...in space.
W: Where's Jupiter ON THIS MAP?
L: That is a map of the world, not the solar system. Jupiter can't even be on it.
W: You're a mean, mean, meanie. You're a potato. You're a mean, meanie, potato meanie, Luke.
-Yes, I know the above conversation might seem to some like a con of having kids this age instead of a pro, but I don't see it that way because (a) it's funny and (b) I am not the person trying to talk sense into an irrational being. I just get to sit there and giggle into my cup of tea.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Summer Break
Luke had his last day of preschool today, so instead of having a preschooler and a toddler, we now officially have a rising kindergartner and a rising preschooler. Yikes!
I'm feeling terribly nostalgic about all of this, while Luke is ready for the next adventure. Weston, however, is a bit more skeptical about his own next adventure. He was totally on board with the preschool idea until he realized that (a) Luke wouldn't be there with him and (b) he'd have to stay with the teachers, of whom he is terrified. How a person can be terrified of a preschool teacher, I don't understand, since they're the most syrupy sweet people you could ever hope to meet, but there you are.
There was an end-of-the-year performance at the preschool today, with all of the kids singing and dancing and putting on a play and it was so much fun to watch. Luke was a bear and his line was, "This is unbearable." He has practiced it every single day for the past two weeks and he has been so excited about being a part of this performance. It amuses (and befuddles) me that the same child who can barely bring himself to greet his teachers every morning is happy as a lark to dance around and deliver a line in front of 100 strangers. Then again, I suppose I'd much rather give a presentation to a room full of strangers than have to suffer through small talk at a dinner party, so there's that.
I can only hope that kindergarten is as much fun for him as preschool has been.
I'm feeling terribly nostalgic about all of this, while Luke is ready for the next adventure. Weston, however, is a bit more skeptical about his own next adventure. He was totally on board with the preschool idea until he realized that (a) Luke wouldn't be there with him and (b) he'd have to stay with the teachers, of whom he is terrified. How a person can be terrified of a preschool teacher, I don't understand, since they're the most syrupy sweet people you could ever hope to meet, but there you are.
There was an end-of-the-year performance at the preschool today, with all of the kids singing and dancing and putting on a play and it was so much fun to watch. Luke was a bear and his line was, "This is unbearable." He has practiced it every single day for the past two weeks and he has been so excited about being a part of this performance. It amuses (and befuddles) me that the same child who can barely bring himself to greet his teachers every morning is happy as a lark to dance around and deliver a line in front of 100 strangers. Then again, I suppose I'd much rather give a presentation to a room full of strangers than have to suffer through small talk at a dinner party, so there's that.
I can only hope that kindergarten is as much fun for him as preschool has been.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Moments
Yesterday, I had dinner with a friend who is the parent of a teenager and she reminded me of just how fast this time goes and how very soon the boys won't need (um...want?) me around as much. In the interest of appreciating the quiet moments, here are a few that we've enjoyed here today.
1. Weston telling me, "That is not awesome," when I offered him Swiss cheese instead of Cheddar.
2. Luke instructing me to "Be a Golden Eagle, Mama. Just BE one. Fly!"
3. The two-block walk from preschool to our car, during which we stopped to look at the flowers and blow dandelion fluff and pick up every stick we saw.
4. The sheet that came home from preschool that had Luke's height and weight from September and from May. They've overestimated his height by an inch, when compared with the "official height" we got at the doctor's office last week. When I pointed out the discrepancy, Luke puffed out his chest and exclaimed, "That's because I've grown every night and day!"
5. Weston riding down the stairs on my back and calling himself a backpack.
6. The sheer delight that occurred when I told Luke that today is Wednesday because he has been looking forward to Kids' Night at our favorite Mexican restaurant for the past two weeks.
7. The fact that we get to go outside in 15 and 20 minute increments, courtesy of Elsa. This is perfect because it is 91 degrees out right now and if we stayed out for any longer, we would die of heat exhaustion and/or being attacked by enormous swarms of mosquitoes. 15-20 minutes gives us just enough time to feel like we're getting outside and makes us appreciate our (somewhat cooler) house when we come back in.
8. Weston needing to wash his entire body in the sink because the sunscreen/bug repellant oil made half the sand in the sandbox stick to him.
9. The confirmation that Luke is, indeed, my child when I asked him what he wants to do this summer and he rattled off six different restaurants where he would like to eat. Yup, that's how I plan out my vacations, too.
10. Both kids huddled together around an old, non-functional cell phone, talking animatedly about the video they were pretending to watch. (It involved a snake and a crocodile trying to eat one another, they said.)
1. Weston telling me, "That is not awesome," when I offered him Swiss cheese instead of Cheddar.
2. Luke instructing me to "Be a Golden Eagle, Mama. Just BE one. Fly!"
3. The two-block walk from preschool to our car, during which we stopped to look at the flowers and blow dandelion fluff and pick up every stick we saw.
4. The sheet that came home from preschool that had Luke's height and weight from September and from May. They've overestimated his height by an inch, when compared with the "official height" we got at the doctor's office last week. When I pointed out the discrepancy, Luke puffed out his chest and exclaimed, "That's because I've grown every night and day!"
5. Weston riding down the stairs on my back and calling himself a backpack.
6. The sheer delight that occurred when I told Luke that today is Wednesday because he has been looking forward to Kids' Night at our favorite Mexican restaurant for the past two weeks.
7. The fact that we get to go outside in 15 and 20 minute increments, courtesy of Elsa. This is perfect because it is 91 degrees out right now and if we stayed out for any longer, we would die of heat exhaustion and/or being attacked by enormous swarms of mosquitoes. 15-20 minutes gives us just enough time to feel like we're getting outside and makes us appreciate our (somewhat cooler) house when we come back in.
8. Weston needing to wash his entire body in the sink because the sunscreen/bug repellant oil made half the sand in the sandbox stick to him.
9. The confirmation that Luke is, indeed, my child when I asked him what he wants to do this summer and he rattled off six different restaurants where he would like to eat. Yup, that's how I plan out my vacations, too.
10. Both kids huddled together around an old, non-functional cell phone, talking animatedly about the video they were pretending to watch. (It involved a snake and a crocodile trying to eat one another, they said.)
Friday, May 9, 2014
Shower-time Shenanigans
Luke used to have free access to several pairs of (child-sized) scissors until Weston learned how to open the art cabinet, at which point I put all the scissors up high. Of course, what I saw as a deterrent, my younger child sees as a challenge. Yesterday, while I was taking a shower, he took it upon himself to very silently and sneakily bring a step stool into the bathroom where I was showering and help himself to a pair of scissors. This is the same kid who narrates every single thing he does all day long, and yet he moved so quietly through that bathroom that I didn't even realize he was in there. When I got out, Luke came into the bathroom holding the scissors.
Me: Whoa! Why do you have scissors?!
Luke: Weston got them down, but he's done with his turn, so now, it's my turn again!
Me: His turn doing what, exactly?
Luke, giving me his poor-mama-is-so-dumb look: Cutting.
Me: Cutting. What?
Weston, running in with a grin: I gived the horse a hair cut!
Me: Oh.
Luke: And I gave MYSELF a hair cut!
Me: You did what?! Where?!
Luke, pointing proudly at his forehead: Right here!
Luckily, Luke had stayed somewhat true to his rule-abiding self and had cut approximately six hairs. I can still see the spot on his head where those six hairs are missing, but I think if I hadn't known about it, I probably wouldn't notice it. Weston, being ever attentive to detail, had even taken the trouble to wet the horse's hair before cutting it because, as he explained, "I needed to tut wet hair be-tause that's how you do hair tuts." Clearly.
Equally clear is the fact that I cannot take another shower until they're both in high school.
Me: Whoa! Why do you have scissors?!
Luke: Weston got them down, but he's done with his turn, so now, it's my turn again!
Me: His turn doing what, exactly?
Luke, giving me his poor-mama-is-so-dumb look: Cutting.
Me: Cutting. What?
Weston, running in with a grin: I gived the horse a hair cut!
Me: Oh.
Luke: And I gave MYSELF a hair cut!
Me: You did what?! Where?!
Luke, pointing proudly at his forehead: Right here!
Luckily, Luke had stayed somewhat true to his rule-abiding self and had cut approximately six hairs. I can still see the spot on his head where those six hairs are missing, but I think if I hadn't known about it, I probably wouldn't notice it. Weston, being ever attentive to detail, had even taken the trouble to wet the horse's hair before cutting it because, as he explained, "I needed to tut wet hair be-tause that's how you do hair tuts." Clearly.
Equally clear is the fact that I cannot take another shower until they're both in high school.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Ferociously Five!
Luke turned five years old yesterday and suddenly, I have a big kid. He is totally into dinosaurs and crocodiles and venomous snakes and if you want to make him happy, all you have to do is ask, "Who'd win in a battle--a saltwater crocodile or a great white shark?" When we asked a few weeks ago what he wanted for his birthday, his number one request was a book called "Orca Whale vs. Great White Shark," and while he was excited about each of his gifts, when he opened the bag containing that one, his entire body radiated joy.
He has been so lovely with Elsa and I think all the big brotherly instincts that went into hibernation when Weston stopped being a baby (and started being a rival,) have come out with her. He spent an entire day petting her at every chance and calling her a "funny, good, big baby dog." Every night before bed, he asks to spend five minutes playing with her before he goes to sleep.
He is alternately super helpful and really obstinate. Most of the time, he's utterly convinced that he knows everything about everything. He has a few really good friends at school and loves to talk about them constantly. I got to spend some time volunteering in his classroom over the past couple of weeks and it has been so nice to see how friendly and loving these kids are with each other. I hope he gets that next year, when he starts real school.
Speaking of "real school," he is pretty excited at the thought of starting Kindergarten this year. If it were up to him, he'd just stop preschool right now and start Kinder. He will be going to a Spanish immersion, Montessori school and he is thrilled about every part of that. It'll be quite the transition, I'm sure, to go from 3 half days at a very arts focused, very small preschool to five full days at a regular, k-8 Montessori school where the primary language of instruction is one that is completely foreign to him. I'm hopeful that the transition isn't too rough and that he will ultimately find a good fit with this school.
Our recent trip to India has sparked a certain Indian pride in him and he is more interested in learning to speak (or at least understand) Tamil. He has been asking to go back and when I told him that maybe we could in a couple of years, he moaned about that being "much too long." He loves going to the nearby Indian buffet for lunch and when his school had a "Fancy" day when all the kids got dressed up, he chose to wear one of his Indian outfits.
He loves going to gymnastics and soccer and enjoys hikes and nature walks. Since Elsa joined our family, we've all been spending more time outside together and it has been a lovely change. He likes playing games of all sort and recently beat me at a card game, Skip-Bo--a big moment because it was the first time he'd won a game on his own merit.
We've been enjoying his emerging sense of humor and loving his take on life. I hope this year brings him new friends and happy, new adventures.
He has been so lovely with Elsa and I think all the big brotherly instincts that went into hibernation when Weston stopped being a baby (and started being a rival,) have come out with her. He spent an entire day petting her at every chance and calling her a "funny, good, big baby dog." Every night before bed, he asks to spend five minutes playing with her before he goes to sleep.
He is alternately super helpful and really obstinate. Most of the time, he's utterly convinced that he knows everything about everything. He has a few really good friends at school and loves to talk about them constantly. I got to spend some time volunteering in his classroom over the past couple of weeks and it has been so nice to see how friendly and loving these kids are with each other. I hope he gets that next year, when he starts real school.
Speaking of "real school," he is pretty excited at the thought of starting Kindergarten this year. If it were up to him, he'd just stop preschool right now and start Kinder. He will be going to a Spanish immersion, Montessori school and he is thrilled about every part of that. It'll be quite the transition, I'm sure, to go from 3 half days at a very arts focused, very small preschool to five full days at a regular, k-8 Montessori school where the primary language of instruction is one that is completely foreign to him. I'm hopeful that the transition isn't too rough and that he will ultimately find a good fit with this school.
Our recent trip to India has sparked a certain Indian pride in him and he is more interested in learning to speak (or at least understand) Tamil. He has been asking to go back and when I told him that maybe we could in a couple of years, he moaned about that being "much too long." He loves going to the nearby Indian buffet for lunch and when his school had a "Fancy" day when all the kids got dressed up, he chose to wear one of his Indian outfits.
He loves going to gymnastics and soccer and enjoys hikes and nature walks. Since Elsa joined our family, we've all been spending more time outside together and it has been a lovely change. He likes playing games of all sort and recently beat me at a card game, Skip-Bo--a big moment because it was the first time he'd won a game on his own merit.
We've been enjoying his emerging sense of humor and loving his take on life. I hope this year brings him new friends and happy, new adventures.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Please?
When Luke wants something, he turns to logic. He thinks of past cases when he has been able to come out on the winning end and he tries to apply similar arguments. He cites factoids and looks for loopholes. He's like a pint-sized attorney.
When Weston wants something, he does this:
-But Mama, it's so soooofffftttt. It's so niiiiiiiiiice. I liiiiiiiiiike it.
-Mama, I looooooove it so muuuuuuuuch!
-But I really, really waaaaaaaaant it.
-Pleeeeeeaaaaaaase?
-I love this toy AND I love YOU, Mama! You are my favorite! Now can I have it?
And to top it all off, he offers his most charming grin and tilts his head and looks all angelic. How do kids come up with this kind of stuff?!
When Weston wants something, he does this:
-But Mama, it's so soooofffftttt. It's so niiiiiiiiiice. I liiiiiiiiiike it.
-Mama, I looooooove it so muuuuuuuuch!
-But I really, really waaaaaaaaant it.
-Pleeeeeeaaaaaaase?
-I love this toy AND I love YOU, Mama! You are my favorite! Now can I have it?
And to top it all off, he offers his most charming grin and tilts his head and looks all angelic. How do kids come up with this kind of stuff?!
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