Thursday, February 25, 2010

on roman

I was pretty pleased with myself when I came across a hot sale on pullups the other day. Wanting to take advantage of the awesome prices I grabbed as many bags as I could and walked out smiling knowing how much money I had just saved.

Much to my shock, I discovered a few days later that I had accidentally grabbed five bags of "sleeping beauty" pullups instead of the intended "car" pullups.

I tried to convince Roman that wearing sleeping beauty was actually pretty manly but unfortunately he didn't buy it. I wonder if it was because Brooklyn was begging to have them, and she doesn't even wear pullups?

Well, at least Holland will get some use out of them. In two years. They don't go bad, do they?

Roman can't ever accuse us of not having enough toys to play with. Last night at dinner, after a bit of cracker landed on my shoulder, I looked up to find Roman using a stalk of celery as a makeshift blow-dart gun.

I was actually kinda proud.

In an effort to speed things along, I said, "Roman, run fast! Like a gazelle!" He promptly turned to me and stated matter-of-factly, "Mom, Ornithomimus are a lot faster than gazelles."

Well. Pardon my ignorance on species of dinosaurs.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

bathroom bombshell

In case any of you were wondering, fiber chocolate chip cookies, fortified with extra fiber, are probably not the best thing to let your children snack on all day. To clear any further confusion about this, read on.

Last week I had an evening class leaving Weston to care for the young-uns. When I returned home, I knew that by the look on Weston's face that he had an unusually rough night and that maybe he needed a hug.

He told me that Roman, after a sudden I-need-to-go-potty! announcement, ran to the bathroom like the dickens, but, apparently, the three feet from the bathroom door to the toilet was a bit too far. So, doing what was only natural to a young boy, he just dropped his pants and exploded on the floor.

After letting that sink in for a minute, Weston then told me that the bathroom has never been as clean as it was right now, thanks to him.

At that point I considered telling him about the fiber chocolate chip cookies I had made earlier that day and offering him one to make him feel better. But I recognized that it probably wasn't the best time for that.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

being the new kid

Today I had the opportunity to go and eat lunch with Brooklyn at her school. I brought along Roman who was excited to get a glimpse of real kindergarteners in action. Brooklyn didn't know we were coming and was very excited and surprised when we suddenly sat down beside her in the classroom "pit" a few minutes before the lunch bell.

Right away she informed us of a couple of lunchtime rules to make sure we didn't get out of line--literally. Walk to the line. Stay behind your person. Don't yell. Don't run. If you do these things then Mrs. Tucker won't become the "mean teacher." I nodded solemnly and our lunchtime line proceeded down the hall and toward the cafeteria.

After being served our pizza and chocolate milk we sat down to eat. As we ate I asked Brooklyn and two noisy boys sitting across from us about their day, what they had learned and if anybody ever got white milk. They didn't remember what they had learned, their friend Kylie liked Brian because he could count to over a hundred and that was amazing, and no, nobody ever got white milk. All in all, aside from the interjections of sound effects and invisible ghosts attacking the table, a decent conversation.

After lunch, recess. Brooklyn showed us--along with about seven groupies (who knew that a mom could make you so popular?) around the playground and I showed my sweet pushing skills on the swings.

As I watched the kids playing, I couldn't help but wonder where their lives would take them in the next few years. They were so innocent. Everybody was friends with everybody else, no one cared about clothes or style or being cool and the only thing that made you stand apart was how high you could count.

What makes all of that change?