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.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
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).
"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).
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
It's All in the Name
Robby is really into writing his name right now. He is very proud that has finally mastered the "r", knows the right way to make a "b", how to do that tricky y. "Robby" he writes at any chance he has. We see it on paper after paper, all over his school folder, he wants to write his own name tags, and any other opportunity he has.
A few weeks back, Ray had found it humorous to write "Wash Me" on the back of the Yukon. This irritates Michael to no end. The boys and I got to hear all about how not only does it look stupid, it also scratches the paint.
I washed the Yukon, but it is a dark color, and in no time at all, there was a nice layer of dust on it again. As we were climbing out at church the other day, I happened to notice there were more letters fingered into the dust.
"Hey, guys, who wrote on the Yukon?"
"Not me," "I didn't do it," quickly responded two innocent faced little boys. One of the two, however, looked a little too wide-eyed and innocent. You, know "the cat who just swallowed the canary" kind of look.
"Really? Are you sure about that Rob? It looks like it says R-o-b-b-y. Why would someone else write your name on our truck?"
Gulp. Smirk.
Maybe next time he'll at least think to write something else. If he's really smart, he'll eventually come up with writing his brother's name. But I'm not about to offer that suggestion.
A few weeks back, Ray had found it humorous to write "Wash Me" on the back of the Yukon. This irritates Michael to no end. The boys and I got to hear all about how not only does it look stupid, it also scratches the paint.
I washed the Yukon, but it is a dark color, and in no time at all, there was a nice layer of dust on it again. As we were climbing out at church the other day, I happened to notice there were more letters fingered into the dust.
"Hey, guys, who wrote on the Yukon?"
"Not me," "I didn't do it," quickly responded two innocent faced little boys. One of the two, however, looked a little too wide-eyed and innocent. You, know "the cat who just swallowed the canary" kind of look.
"Really? Are you sure about that Rob? It looks like it says R-o-b-b-y. Why would someone else write your name on our truck?"
Gulp. Smirk.
Maybe next time he'll at least think to write something else. If he's really smart, he'll eventually come up with writing his brother's name. But I'm not about to offer that suggestion.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Sam's Art
Sam loves to draw. He draws just about anywhere and on anything and of a large array of subjects. Here are 3 examples to better "illustrate" my point, (Get it??? ;) )
1) Wall Art
Sam is our 3rd child and interestingly enough, we've never had much of an issue with writing on things other than paper. I'm sure there's been the occasional scribble on the table and such, but nothing too memorable. That must be why Robby looked horrified the other day when he came flying into my bedroom to let me know that Sam had a pen. So??? And he's drawing! Okay... ALL OVER THE WALL! When I went to investigate, sure enough, there sat Sam, pen in hand, with quite the "mural" if you will all over the bathroom floor.
Just a week or so before that, I had gone to look for an all to quiet Sam when I found him with a pencil, no paper, and a large smile. As I looked more closely, I saw that he had scribbled back and forth across our bamboo floor to cover approximently 2 foot by 8 foot of flooring.
On both occasions, I sternly spoke with Sam and transformed the prideful artist into a remorseful "I'll only color on paper now Mommy" little boy. More importantly, I gave him a rag and made him help me scrub his "art" away. Surely 1 of these times the lesson will be learned, right???
2) Dr. Office Art
At a recent trip to our family doctor, Sam ran out of paper. No problem! Dr. Holtz had a solution. Sam, Robby, and Dr. Holtz proceeded to cover the paper on the exam table with an array of portraits. Dr. Holtz was impressed by the number of body parts Sam added to his figures. Not only does he get a head/body, arms, legs, face etc. He also tends to add a little more... "This is me. This is my penis. Now I need underwear, and now pants," says Sam as he adds layers to his portrait.
3) Body Art
As I mentioned above, Sam is very, um, well, detailed in his drawings and likes to make sure they are, well, I guess, accurate. That isn't exactly what I was referring to here though by body art. No, Sam actually likes to draw on his body. The other day he walked around with a purple mark on his forehead all day because he had decided to "make the sign of the cross" on his head while holding a purple marker. Last night, while putting on his pajamas, I noticed some turquoise markings all around his belly button.
"Sam, what happened?"
"Um, I have marker on my belly!"
"I see, how did that happen?"
"I didn't do it."
"Oh. Then who did?"
"Hmmmm...."
"Robby, did you color on Sam today?"
"No, it wasn't Robby."
"I'm sorry, it was me," interjects Michael.
"No! It wasn't Daddy, it was Calvin," says Sam.
"Calvin? Really? When did Calvin color on you?" I ask.
"At my birthday. Calvin colored on me at my birthday party." Given that Sam's birthday was in February, we haven't even seen Cal since Sunday, and this is a Tuesday in November, call me a skeptic, but I'm not buying Sam's story...
Maybe someday, when he's rich and famous and people are paying big bucks for his art, I will regret washing Sam's one-of-a-kinds off my walls, but for now, I really, really wish he'd keep it to the paper.
1) Wall Art
Sam is our 3rd child and interestingly enough, we've never had much of an issue with writing on things other than paper. I'm sure there's been the occasional scribble on the table and such, but nothing too memorable. That must be why Robby looked horrified the other day when he came flying into my bedroom to let me know that Sam had a pen. So??? And he's drawing! Okay... ALL OVER THE WALL! When I went to investigate, sure enough, there sat Sam, pen in hand, with quite the "mural" if you will all over the bathroom floor.
Just a week or so before that, I had gone to look for an all to quiet Sam when I found him with a pencil, no paper, and a large smile. As I looked more closely, I saw that he had scribbled back and forth across our bamboo floor to cover approximently 2 foot by 8 foot of flooring.
On both occasions, I sternly spoke with Sam and transformed the prideful artist into a remorseful "I'll only color on paper now Mommy" little boy. More importantly, I gave him a rag and made him help me scrub his "art" away. Surely 1 of these times the lesson will be learned, right???
2) Dr. Office Art
At a recent trip to our family doctor, Sam ran out of paper. No problem! Dr. Holtz had a solution. Sam, Robby, and Dr. Holtz proceeded to cover the paper on the exam table with an array of portraits. Dr. Holtz was impressed by the number of body parts Sam added to his figures. Not only does he get a head/body, arms, legs, face etc. He also tends to add a little more... "This is me. This is my penis. Now I need underwear, and now pants," says Sam as he adds layers to his portrait.
3) Body Art
As I mentioned above, Sam is very, um, well, detailed in his drawings and likes to make sure they are, well, I guess, accurate. That isn't exactly what I was referring to here though by body art. No, Sam actually likes to draw on his body. The other day he walked around with a purple mark on his forehead all day because he had decided to "make the sign of the cross" on his head while holding a purple marker. Last night, while putting on his pajamas, I noticed some turquoise markings all around his belly button.
"Sam, what happened?"
"Um, I have marker on my belly!"
"I see, how did that happen?"
"I didn't do it."
"Oh. Then who did?"
"Hmmmm...."
"Robby, did you color on Sam today?"
"No, it wasn't Robby."
"I'm sorry, it was me," interjects Michael.
"No! It wasn't Daddy, it was Calvin," says Sam.
"Calvin? Really? When did Calvin color on you?" I ask.
"At my birthday. Calvin colored on me at my birthday party." Given that Sam's birthday was in February, we haven't even seen Cal since Sunday, and this is a Tuesday in November, call me a skeptic, but I'm not buying Sam's story...
Maybe someday, when he's rich and famous and people are paying big bucks for his art, I will regret washing Sam's one-of-a-kinds off my walls, but for now, I really, really wish he'd keep it to the paper.
Monday, November 19, 2012
More Elbow Milk
The other day Sam and I were home for the day and just hanging out. I had just sat down to nurse the baby when Sam came over with a favorite plan of his.
"Mom, can we go upstairs and watch a movie on your bed?"
"Sure, when I'm done feeding the baby we can go up."
"He can come upstairs too."
"That's very nice of you Sam. We will bring him up with us."
"Mom! He feel off your elbow and now he can't eat!" Theodore, who had unlatched to try to look for the source of the noise behind him, but quickly found his head being shoved back toward me.
"Um, Sam, that's now my elbow. This is my elbow." I said laughing and bending my arm to show Sam an elbow.
"I know that's an elbow. But that's your other elbow. Your elbow for feeding the baby."
"No, I only elbows on my arms just like you. This is my breast," I offer the appropriate term as I gesture across my chest.
"I know that's your breast. I'm talking about that pointy part, you know, the elbow," corrects Sam as he bends his own arm and points to his elbow with his other hand.
Hmmmm, interesting correlation don't ya think?
"Mom, can we go upstairs and watch a movie on your bed?"
"Sure, when I'm done feeding the baby we can go up."
"He can come upstairs too."
"That's very nice of you Sam. We will bring him up with us."
"Mom! He feel off your elbow and now he can't eat!" Theodore, who had unlatched to try to look for the source of the noise behind him, but quickly found his head being shoved back toward me.
"Um, Sam, that's now my elbow. This is my elbow." I said laughing and bending my arm to show Sam an elbow.
"I know that's an elbow. But that's your other elbow. Your elbow for feeding the baby."
"No, I only elbows on my arms just like you. This is my breast," I offer the appropriate term as I gesture across my chest.
"I know that's your breast. I'm talking about that pointy part, you know, the elbow," corrects Sam as he bends his own arm and points to his elbow with his other hand.
Hmmmm, interesting correlation don't ya think?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Socks & Underwear
Michael's birthday falls on October 31, yes, Halloween. I try to make it special for him, but often feel like his day is overshadowed with pumpkins, costumes, and all things trick-or-treat. For years I have told him that I am not decorating for Halloween, but for his birthday. I even have a tote marked "Michael's Birthday Decorations" but since he doesn't particularly love black and orange, I think he knows I'm just humoring him.
As October drew to a close, I knew I was running out of time to get him the perfect present. Granted, I had not a clue what that was. So, I asked. Apparently he didn't have a clue either. Sooooo, I asked the kiddos. One by one I asked them what they wanted to get Dad for his birthday. Here are their replies.
Ray, "I was thinking I would make him a hug coupon book like I did for your birthday." Not bad, very sentimental.
Rob, "Hmmm, how about a new shirt? Maybe Angry Birds or Star Wars." Well, it is the thought that counts.
Sam, very enthusiastically, "Underwear!" Huh? What?!
"You want to get Daddy underwear for his birthday?"
"Yup, and socks."
"Socks and underwear?"
"It will make him smile," says Sam with a face cracking, light up the room smile.
"That it will!" I agree laughing.
Later that day, Sam, Rob and I stop into Target. After careful consideration, Rob chooses a green Yoda shirt and Sam ends up finding "pirate" underwear and socks for Michael. What soon-to-be 34 year old man doesn't want to wear skull and cross bone undies and socks?!
That same evening, Michael informs me that he thought of a gift idea for his birthday. Sam overhears this and yells, "Underwear!"
"Huh?" asks Michael.
"Shh! Sam, remember, it's suppose to be a secret." I try to interject.
"You want underwear for birthday right Daddy?"
"Um, sure," Michael replies.
Sam is very pleased with himself and at least the print of the undies and the socks will be a surprise.
As October drew to a close, I knew I was running out of time to get him the perfect present. Granted, I had not a clue what that was. So, I asked. Apparently he didn't have a clue either. Sooooo, I asked the kiddos. One by one I asked them what they wanted to get Dad for his birthday. Here are their replies.
Ray, "I was thinking I would make him a hug coupon book like I did for your birthday." Not bad, very sentimental.
Rob, "Hmmm, how about a new shirt? Maybe Angry Birds or Star Wars." Well, it is the thought that counts.
Sam, very enthusiastically, "Underwear!" Huh? What?!
"You want to get Daddy underwear for his birthday?"
"Yup, and socks."
"Socks and underwear?"
"It will make him smile," says Sam with a face cracking, light up the room smile.
"That it will!" I agree laughing.
Later that day, Sam, Rob and I stop into Target. After careful consideration, Rob chooses a green Yoda shirt and Sam ends up finding "pirate" underwear and socks for Michael. What soon-to-be 34 year old man doesn't want to wear skull and cross bone undies and socks?!
That same evening, Michael informs me that he thought of a gift idea for his birthday. Sam overhears this and yells, "Underwear!"
"Huh?" asks Michael.
"Shh! Sam, remember, it's suppose to be a secret." I try to interject.
"You want underwear for birthday right Daddy?"
"Um, sure," Michael replies.
Sam is very pleased with himself and at least the print of the undies and the socks will be a surprise.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Careful! That Chicken is Fragile!
After Theodore was born, I got this notion that we needed to have pictures done. A friend from back in the days of Shaw school (boy did that just date me) and her hubby have started their own photography studio, Ressler Photography, and do great work so I contacted her and we arranged for them to come to us (yes, come to us! how cool is that?!) on a Saturday afternoon in October. (If you are looking to get some high quality photos done for whatever occasion, I highly recommend checking these guys out!)
When Jake and Tricia arrived, Sam didn't even waste a minute pretending to be shy. He had Tricia by the hand and was dragging her up the stairs to show her his bedroom. We spent the next 1 to 2 hours busy trying to catch the perfect shots of Theo with mom, with Dad and on his own. And, WOW, did they ever capture some amazing ones!
Sam spent a good portion of that same time trying to catch the attention of any one. Jake and Tricia had come prepared with a tote of various items for the photo shoot and amongst those things, Sam happened upon a rubber chicken. The rubber chicken was not only funny looking, it also make a "wonderful" loud squawky sound. Sam and Rob spent their fair share of time running with, running from, tossing, catching, and squeezing the chicken. One more than 1 occasion, we asked them to stop, cool it, etc. It sometimes had short-lasting impact, but generally resulted in them finding a different way to play with the chicken.
As we finished up with Theo and got ready to transition into family picture mode, Jake told Sam to be careful with the chicken. I believe he said something to the effect of, "Be careful, that chicken is fragile."
Sam who had just run across the room, flung himself and the chicken into the recliner head down, feet up, looked inquisitively at Jake and asked, "Your chicken's name is fragile???"
We all bust out laughing and Jake replied, "It is now!"
So I'm not sure why the chicken crossed the road, though I suspect it was to get away from Sam, I do know how he got his name.
As we finished up with Theo and got ready to transition into family picture mode, Jake told Sam to be careful with the chicken. I believe he said something to the effect of, "Be careful, that chicken is fragile."
Sam who had just run across the room, flung himself and the chicken into the recliner head down, feet up, looked inquisitively at Jake and asked, "Your chicken's name is fragile???"
We all bust out laughing and Jake replied, "It is now!"
So I'm not sure why the chicken crossed the road, though I suspect it was to get away from Sam, I do know how he got his name.
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