PASTA?!?!?!

If you read my blog from time to time, you may have picked up on certain patterns.  One of those being that dinner time can occasionally be a bit difficult at my house.  I always vowed that I would raise children who eat what was on the table or go hungry, and for the most part we stick to that philosophy, but it does lead to some interesting dining experiences.

You may recall the problem with pasta back in May 2011.  If not, you should check it out here in this blog entry: Power Play.  There's also the entry about how I overcame that, What's for Dinner?  And just this week about how I made one heck of a Chicken Alfredo: The Best Dinner.

Well this is a story about the leftovers from that very best dinner...

"What would you like for lunch?  A sandwich, the pizza from last night, or some of the pasta we had the other night?"

"WAIT!  Did you say pasta?!?!"  Oh boy!  Here goes Robby again.

"Yes, Rob I said pasta.  Pasta is another word for noodles.  All noodles are pasta.  Get over it already.  you love noodles.  Mac and cheese, chicken Alfredo, spaghetti, it's all pasta."

"But I don't like pasta!" Rob adamantly protested.  Great, way to go Billie Jo!  Ruin a slew of dinner ideas for the kid.

"Fine, would you feel better about it if I just said noodles?"

"Yes."  Whew, what a relief!

"Okay then.  Do you want some of the noodles with chicken and peas from the other night?"

"Yes please."

Oh my.

The Best Dinner

The other evening, dinner time was looming.  The boys were hungry, the baby was hungry, and I was tired.  So I headed to the pantry and found a jar of Alfredo sauce, opened the freezer and pulled out some chicken that I had cooked and cut in advanced, and put on a pot of water to boil some noodles.  I mixed it all together, added some peas, and viola! Chicken Alfredo was on the table.  I wasn't 100% sure how this would go over given the fact that the last time I made it, Rob refused to even take a bite.  So when Rob asked what it was, I knew better than to use the common name,, "chicken, peas and noodles," I said.

"Yum!" Rob enthusiastically replied.

Alright then.  Ray and Rob ate with must enthusiasm and eventually Ray declared, "This is probably the best meal we've had since the baby's been born!"

"Thanks," I think.  Never mind the home cooked meals I've made, sometimes you just have to take a compliment when you can.

And for those of you wondering about Sam, don't worry, he still kept the whine with dinner going refusing to try his food until the rest of us where long gone from the table.  He cleaned his plate while I washed dishes.  He did like it, he just wanted to make sure our dinner time wasn't enjoyable. ;)

Chuck Norris

The infant originally named Theodore John, also known as Teddy Roosevelt Bridge (or TRB), has recently undergone yet another name change.  At least accordingly to big brother Sam.  (This child is going to have some major identity issues is this keeps up!)  His newest name is, drum roll please, Chuck Norris!  Why you ask?  I have not a clue, go ask Sam.

Back a week or so ago after this name change, Sam was very curious to take a peek behind "Chuck's" diaper.  I think he was anxious to check and make sure the baby had been neglected like myself and did in fact have a penis.  As I was changing a diaper Sam peered over to catch his glimpse, gently rubbed the baby's head and in his best soothing voice said:

"Oh, it's okay that your penis is tiny Chuck Norris.  It will grow, I promise."

I'm not so sure the real Chuck Norris would approve.

Put a Bow on It

Robby doesn't just like babies, he LOVES babies.  If there is a baby around, he is right there cooing and ohing and ahhing.  Given that he is always at his side to hand him a toy, play with him, and even share food with, it was not to surprising when "Wobby" was one of his daycare baby buddies spoke.  So you can about imagine how he is with a baby brother of his own.  We are having to constantly remind him to let Theo sleep, to not pick up him constantly, to get off of him in his car seat, etc.

Just this morning I was peeling Robby off of the baby who was buckled in his car seat ready to go when Ray had one his stroke of brilliance.

"Robby, when we grow up, I'm going to adopt a baby, put a bow on his head, and put him under the Christmas tree for you cause you love babies so much."

"Okay!"  Robby liked that Christmas idea.

"Um, I don't think that's going to work," I interjected.

"Why?" they both asked.

"Well, because babies aren't puppies.  You can't just adopt one, and you don't just give them away to other people like that."

"What do you mean?"

"To adopt, people need to meet you and learn all about you to make sure you will be a good parent.  They come to your house to make sure it will be safe.  It can take a long time.  And they aren't going to let you adopt if you are planning to turn around and give the baby away."

"Oh," they seem disappointed, but seem to understand.

"Well, then, maybe my wife will have 2 boys and then she'll let you have one of those," Ray decided.

"Cool," said Rob.

"Good luck with that boys," I state.  I'm not thinking it will work out quite that way. ;)

You are SOOOO Jealous!

Here is a conversation I overheard at bedtime the other night.

"Sam, you need to go in and use the bathroom.  It's time for jammies."

"I don't want to wear jammies, I want to wear my clothes."  (This has been his big kick lately, and frankly, some things aren't worth fighting over."

"Fine, you can wear your clothes to bed, but you still need to go potty and put on a pull up."

"I don't want to."

"Well, you need to.  Come on Sam."

"But Daddy, I don't want to sit down.  I want to stand up."

"Okay then, stand up and go potty."

"Look Daddy, I'm standing up."  Pause.  "You are sooooo jealous right now."

Hmmm, jealous of what I'm not sure, but oh, that kid is funny.

More Body Art

As you may remember from a previous post, Sam loves to draw and when he draws, he likes to be anatomically correct.

"This is me."  He draw a basic body.

"This is my penis."  He adds between the legs.

"Now I need underwear."  Whew, I guess I'm thankful my talks about modesty are sinking in even if it's a tiny bit.

"Now my pants."

The other day, Sam decided to draw a portrait of me.  I was little curious what it might look like.  I was concerned it my have several, ah-hem, well, elbows added to it.

"This is you Mommy.  I didn't give it a penis, because you are a mommy and you don't have one, but I did give it big muscles cause you are super strong!" Sam said as he showed my my portrait with one hand and flexed his other arm.  Man, I love that kid (even if he does drive me bonkers sometimes).