Paul and I are veggin' out, watching Texas and Bama...
When out from the kitchen comes the loudest, longest, most manly belch either of us have heard in a while.
We both look in the direction of the kitchen. Then look at each other.
Paul: Who was that?!
Me: Oh my God!
pause
Me: Zach?
Paul looks at the kitchen again.
Paul: I don't know.
Me: Holy! That was like a man burp!
Paul: Geez... I know.
Me: Maybe Carter? (a friend of Zach's)
Paul: (yells out) Who was that?
pause
Zayd: What. (he says this is a voice that is surprisingly low)
It's Zayd? Nine-year-old Zayd?
Paul: (imitates him for me) Whhhaaaat.
Me: What the? His voice sounds lower.
Paul: I know! (laughing)
Me: Do you think he is hitting puberty early or something?
Paul: God I hope not.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Evan the workaholic
Eleven-year-old Evan is our resident underage workaholic.
When he was four-years-old we had him in Montessori. During our first parent-teacher conference, Paul and I asked his teacher which play areas Evan was most drawn to...
Her response?
The window.
Apparently he was spending his days cleaning the window, wiping down counters and tables, and using the playskool vacuum cleaner.
We pulled him out of Montessori. We figured, he could spend his day cleaning at a less expensive preschool.
This is also our child who started a business selling cold bottled water at our back gate which is on the 5th tee of a golf course. He made $400 one summer and bought himself an electric piano.
So, I should not have been surprised when he tackled me as soon as I came home from work the other day about - what else - a job.
Evan: Mom. I need a job.
Me: Okay. Like a job right now? Or what?
Evan: No - I need a regular job. Something I can do everyday to make money.
Me: You need money?
Evan: Well... yes. And... I need a job.
Me: Okay. Let me think okay?
Evan: And then what am I going to do this summer? I need a job for summer. Do people hire kids my age?
Me: Ah no.
Evan: What am I going to do?
Me: Evan? You need to first let me change. We'll talk about it later.
I go upstairs to my bedroom to change. One minute later, Evan appears.
Evan: So have you thought about it yet?
omg. Obviously we differ on what "later" means.
Me: Evan. Seriously. You need to wait until later. Not now. I'll tell you when I've thought about it.
Evan: Well, what about like laundry, or shoveling the driveway, or organizing the kitchen, or...
Me: EVAN!
Evan: What!
Me: Stop. No. Not now. I just got home. Give me some time.
Evan: Okaaayyy! Geezzz.
And breath....
I know what is going to happen. He is like a dog that won't let go of his bone. He is going to be on me about this until I offer up something.
I come down the stairs. As soon as I walk into the kitchen again, Evan announces to his brothers:
Evan: Mom is going to find me a job to do.
I may end up paying him to sit in his room.
Later (my definition of later, not his), I talked to him more about it.
Me: So, do you care if the job is hard? Are the jobs you won't do? Or are you willing to do something that I really need help with?
Evan: No! I really want to do something that will help! I don't care if it is hard! (he is nodding up and down with excitement).
Me: Welllll.... the thing mom needs help with the most is laundry.
Without hesitation...
Evan: Okay! I can do that! Sure!
Me: Okay. So, let's look in the laundry room and talk about how you can help.
We walk in... and Evan begins to tell me everything he is going to do. He is like a tornado of energy.
Evan: So I can wash the clothes, and dry them, and fold them and organize them, but you are going to have to tell me how to wash them right and I'm not sure how to separate the clothes the way you like... like do you want whites, colors, towels, or jeans, separated, so if you could write it down for me that would be great...
Me: EVAN!
Evan: What!?
Me: One thing at a time. Let's slllloooowwww down.
Evan: Sorry.
Me: No - I'm glad you are excited, but just let's take this one step at a time.
Evan: Okay. Sorry.
Me: So, let's just start with what's out here right now. We've got a pile here that is clean, but has to be folded and sorted. How does that sound?
Evan: Yeah. I can do that. But that's it? I can do more than that.
Me: Hmmm... well, why don't you take the dry clothes out of the dryer and fold and sort those, and then put the clothes that are in the wash into the dryer too.
Evan: Yeah. Okay! I can do that.
pause
Evan: And then what do you want me to do? I can wash clothes too. I just need you to write down or type out the instructions and I'll do it. I can come home everyday and wash and dry and fold.
Me: Let's start with this. Make sure you keep track of how long it takes you.
Evan: Are you going to pay me by the load?
THAT sounds like a very bad idea. Can you imagine the energizer bunny being paid by the load? Holy.
Me: No. We'll figure out something. I promise I'll pay you well for a job well done.
SO... the very next day... I get home from work...
Evan: MOM! Let me show you what I did!
I guess I won't be changing my clothes...
Me: Great. Let's go.
He takes me down the stairs and shows me that he has done everything that I asked. And... done it well.
He organized the clothes, folded them, even paired up the socks - something I hate to do. He made a pile of unmatched socks. He sorted the remaining laundry and then reminded me again that I had not typed step-by-step instructions on how to wash clothes.
Me: Wow Evan. This is really great. This helps mom out tons! I really appreciate this.
I give him a big hug.
Me: So how much time did it take you?
He walks over to a digital timer sitting nearby.
Evan: Ahhh... 28 minutes and 30 seconds.
I should have seen the digital timer coming.
When he was four-years-old we had him in Montessori. During our first parent-teacher conference, Paul and I asked his teacher which play areas Evan was most drawn to...
Her response?
The window.
Apparently he was spending his days cleaning the window, wiping down counters and tables, and using the playskool vacuum cleaner.
We pulled him out of Montessori. We figured, he could spend his day cleaning at a less expensive preschool.
This is also our child who started a business selling cold bottled water at our back gate which is on the 5th tee of a golf course. He made $400 one summer and bought himself an electric piano.
So, I should not have been surprised when he tackled me as soon as I came home from work the other day about - what else - a job.
Evan: Mom. I need a job.
Me: Okay. Like a job right now? Or what?
Evan: No - I need a regular job. Something I can do everyday to make money.
Me: You need money?
Evan: Well... yes. And... I need a job.
Me: Okay. Let me think okay?
Evan: And then what am I going to do this summer? I need a job for summer. Do people hire kids my age?
Me: Ah no.
Evan: What am I going to do?
Me: Evan? You need to first let me change. We'll talk about it later.
I go upstairs to my bedroom to change. One minute later, Evan appears.
Evan: So have you thought about it yet?
omg. Obviously we differ on what "later" means.
Me: Evan. Seriously. You need to wait until later. Not now. I'll tell you when I've thought about it.
Evan: Well, what about like laundry, or shoveling the driveway, or organizing the kitchen, or...
Me: EVAN!
Evan: What!
Me: Stop. No. Not now. I just got home. Give me some time.
Evan: Okaaayyy! Geezzz.
And breath....
I know what is going to happen. He is like a dog that won't let go of his bone. He is going to be on me about this until I offer up something.
I come down the stairs. As soon as I walk into the kitchen again, Evan announces to his brothers:
Evan: Mom is going to find me a job to do.
I may end up paying him to sit in his room.
Later (my definition of later, not his), I talked to him more about it.
Me: So, do you care if the job is hard? Are the jobs you won't do? Or are you willing to do something that I really need help with?
Evan: No! I really want to do something that will help! I don't care if it is hard! (he is nodding up and down with excitement).
Me: Welllll.... the thing mom needs help with the most is laundry.
Without hesitation...
Evan: Okay! I can do that! Sure!
Me: Okay. So, let's look in the laundry room and talk about how you can help.
We walk in... and Evan begins to tell me everything he is going to do. He is like a tornado of energy.
Evan: So I can wash the clothes, and dry them, and fold them and organize them, but you are going to have to tell me how to wash them right and I'm not sure how to separate the clothes the way you like... like do you want whites, colors, towels, or jeans, separated, so if you could write it down for me that would be great...
Me: EVAN!
Evan: What!?
Me: One thing at a time. Let's slllloooowwww down.
Evan: Sorry.
Me: No - I'm glad you are excited, but just let's take this one step at a time.
Evan: Okay. Sorry.
Me: So, let's just start with what's out here right now. We've got a pile here that is clean, but has to be folded and sorted. How does that sound?
Evan: Yeah. I can do that. But that's it? I can do more than that.
Me: Hmmm... well, why don't you take the dry clothes out of the dryer and fold and sort those, and then put the clothes that are in the wash into the dryer too.
Evan: Yeah. Okay! I can do that.
pause
Evan: And then what do you want me to do? I can wash clothes too. I just need you to write down or type out the instructions and I'll do it. I can come home everyday and wash and dry and fold.
Me: Let's start with this. Make sure you keep track of how long it takes you.
Evan: Are you going to pay me by the load?
THAT sounds like a very bad idea. Can you imagine the energizer bunny being paid by the load? Holy.
Me: No. We'll figure out something. I promise I'll pay you well for a job well done.
SO... the very next day... I get home from work...
Evan: MOM! Let me show you what I did!
I guess I won't be changing my clothes...
Me: Great. Let's go.
He takes me down the stairs and shows me that he has done everything that I asked. And... done it well.
He organized the clothes, folded them, even paired up the socks - something I hate to do. He made a pile of unmatched socks. He sorted the remaining laundry and then reminded me again that I had not typed step-by-step instructions on how to wash clothes.
Me: Wow Evan. This is really great. This helps mom out tons! I really appreciate this.
I give him a big hug.
Me: So how much time did it take you?
He walks over to a digital timer sitting nearby.
Evan: Ahhh... 28 minutes and 30 seconds.
I should have seen the digital timer coming.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Tummy rubs
Tonight, Ethan read his little books to me: Lucky Goes to Dog School and The Rescue Helicopter.
As I was listening, I started getting one of my tension headaches - right behind the right eye. The only relief is my fist pushed as hard as I can manage into my temple, and either 2 extra strength Exedrin Migraine or at least 3 ibuprofen... if I can get them in me before it becomes full-blown.
Ethan noticed I was resting my head against my fist, and closing my eyes.
Ethan: What's wrong mom?
Me: Oh.. I am just getting a yucky headache.
All of a sudden the headache got really bad.
Me: Ohhhhh.... I feel kinda sick. Let's just stop for a minute.
Ethan: You feel sick? How do you feel sick? You head is sick?
Is my head sick? Well...
Me: No, my head hurts too much and sometimes that makes my tummy feel sick. Like I feel like throwing up.
Ethan: Okay mom. Listen. Listen to me. I am going to rub your tummy now to make your head feel better. Okay? Just close your eyes and I'll rub.
Zayd walks in.
Zayd: What's going on? Why are you rubbing mom's tummy?
Ethan: She has a headache.
pause
Zayd: Ooookaaaayyy. So why are you rubbing mom's tummy? Rub her head.
Ethan: No! She feels sick! I need to rub her tummy.
Zayd: Do you need anything mom?
My head really feels gross now.
Me: Uhm... sure. That would be nice. Would you get me some ibuprofen and a big glass of water please?
Zayd: Okay. Ibuprofen. I don't know what that is, but I'll find it.
He runs out. Ethan is still rubbing by tummy and then, out of the blue, he goes into some sort of lamaze technique.
Ethan: Okay mom. Just breathe. Breathe like this. (He blows loudly out of his mouth. Several times. Slowly).
Ethan: Whooooooooo (breath out).
pause
Ethan: Whooooooooooo
pause
Ethan: I don't hear you breathing mom. You need to breathe.
What in the name... Where did he get this?
Me: Whooooooo (I breathe out).
Ethan: Okay. You keep doing it by yourself. I'm getting tired.
pause
It finally hits me where Ethan got this. When the kids feel sick to their stomach, I always sit with them and tell them to take big deep breaths in through their nose and out through their mouth. For some reason, it helps.
Ethan: Mom. You aren't breathing again. Whooooooo.
Zayd comes back in the room.
Zayd: Okay. Here is your water. And here is something I think is ibuprofen.
He hands me a bottle of ibuprofen.
Me: Yup - it is.
Zayd: Good. And in case it doesn't work. Here's a backup.
He hands me a bottle of aspirin.
Alright then.
Evan walks in.
Evan: What's going on? Why is Ethan rubbing your tummy?
Zayd: Because mom's head hurts. (He gives his infamous snort laugh).
Evan: Ooookkaaayyyyy.
Evan now takes my hand and holds it.
Evan: Are you going to be okay mom?
Ethan: Shhhhhh! She doesn't feel good! She needs to breathe!
Me: I'm going to be fine. It'll just take a little while for the medicine to kick in and I will feel lots better.
You all are doing a great job of taking care of me.
Awwww! These little men ARE going to do such a great job of taking care of me as I get older.
As I was listening, I started getting one of my tension headaches - right behind the right eye. The only relief is my fist pushed as hard as I can manage into my temple, and either 2 extra strength Exedrin Migraine or at least 3 ibuprofen... if I can get them in me before it becomes full-blown.
Ethan noticed I was resting my head against my fist, and closing my eyes.
Ethan: What's wrong mom?
Me: Oh.. I am just getting a yucky headache.
All of a sudden the headache got really bad.
Me: Ohhhhh.... I feel kinda sick. Let's just stop for a minute.
Ethan: You feel sick? How do you feel sick? You head is sick?
Is my head sick? Well...
Me: No, my head hurts too much and sometimes that makes my tummy feel sick. Like I feel like throwing up.
Ethan: Okay mom. Listen. Listen to me. I am going to rub your tummy now to make your head feel better. Okay? Just close your eyes and I'll rub.
Zayd walks in.
Zayd: What's going on? Why are you rubbing mom's tummy?
Ethan: She has a headache.
pause
Zayd: Ooookaaaayyy. So why are you rubbing mom's tummy? Rub her head.
Ethan: No! She feels sick! I need to rub her tummy.
Zayd: Do you need anything mom?
My head really feels gross now.
Me: Uhm... sure. That would be nice. Would you get me some ibuprofen and a big glass of water please?
Zayd: Okay. Ibuprofen. I don't know what that is, but I'll find it.
He runs out. Ethan is still rubbing by tummy and then, out of the blue, he goes into some sort of lamaze technique.
Ethan: Okay mom. Just breathe. Breathe like this. (He blows loudly out of his mouth. Several times. Slowly).
Ethan: Whooooooooo (breath out).
pause
Ethan: Whooooooooooo
pause
Ethan: I don't hear you breathing mom. You need to breathe.
What in the name... Where did he get this?
Me: Whooooooo (I breathe out).
Ethan: Okay. You keep doing it by yourself. I'm getting tired.
pause
It finally hits me where Ethan got this. When the kids feel sick to their stomach, I always sit with them and tell them to take big deep breaths in through their nose and out through their mouth. For some reason, it helps.
Ethan: Mom. You aren't breathing again. Whooooooo.
Zayd comes back in the room.
Zayd: Okay. Here is your water. And here is something I think is ibuprofen.
He hands me a bottle of ibuprofen.
Me: Yup - it is.
Zayd: Good. And in case it doesn't work. Here's a backup.
He hands me a bottle of aspirin.
Alright then.
Evan walks in.
Evan: What's going on? Why is Ethan rubbing your tummy?
Zayd: Because mom's head hurts. (He gives his infamous snort laugh).
Evan: Ooookkaaayyyyy.
Evan now takes my hand and holds it.
Evan: Are you going to be okay mom?
Ethan: Shhhhhh! She doesn't feel good! She needs to breathe!
Me: I'm going to be fine. It'll just take a little while for the medicine to kick in and I will feel lots better.
You all are doing a great job of taking care of me.
Awwww! These little men ARE going to do such a great job of taking care of me as I get older.
Words of Wisdom
On Monday I came home from work, worked up. I needed to vent so I plopped myself on the couch and my dear husband sat and let me bend his ear for a good hour.
At some point during my emotional tirade, Ethan, my 6-year-old, climbed onto my lap and held my hands without my noticing.
When I finally took a breath, he jumped right in:
Ethan: Mom. Just settle down... settle down.
He took one of my hands and started patting it.
Ethan: Just take a minute mom. You need to settle down. (He said gently).
Me: What?
Ethan: You just need to forget about it. Just forget about it. Stop thinking about it.
What? What?
Me: Really.
Ethan: Yes. You are getting too upset. It's gonna be okay.
He continued patting my hand...
...and drained the hot air right out of me.
At some point during my emotional tirade, Ethan, my 6-year-old, climbed onto my lap and held my hands without my noticing.
When I finally took a breath, he jumped right in:
Ethan: Mom. Just settle down... settle down.
He took one of my hands and started patting it.
Ethan: Just take a minute mom. You need to settle down. (He said gently).
Me: What?
Ethan: You just need to forget about it. Just forget about it. Stop thinking about it.
What? What?
Me: Really.
Ethan: Yes. You are getting too upset. It's gonna be okay.
He continued patting my hand...
...and drained the hot air right out of me.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Hotness in the frozen tundra
The other day my husband and I went cross-country skiing on the golf course outside of our backyard. It was very very cold. About 24 below zero, give or take a few degrees. I have become excellent at dressing for cold weather, so I was toasty warm during our 40-minute trek across Prairiewood. The trail was great too - the snow was super slick and the trail had just been groomed a few days before...
Paul was skiing in front of me and after about 20 minutes on the trail he stops and turns his head around to talk to me.
Paul: How are you doing?
Me: I'm fine. My eyeballs are freezing though! The wind hurts them. Do tears freeze?
Paul: I don't think so... Do you want my sunglasses?
Me: No. My face is just a little cold, but I'm good.
He stands there, motionless... still staring at me.
Me: What?
Paul: Nothing. (he raises his eyebrows a few quick times at me).
Me: What!
Paul: Nothing!
pause
Paul: You look good.
omg. Seriously?
Me: Are you kidding me?!
Paul: What?!
Me: Paul! It is freakin' 24 below zero and you are giving me the look!? Out here!? In the middle of the golf course!
Paul: Well!
Me: Holy!
Paul: Well... I'm making an outdoors woman out of you...
pause
Me: And that's hot?
Paul: Kinda!
Paul was skiing in front of me and after about 20 minutes on the trail he stops and turns his head around to talk to me.
Paul: How are you doing?
Me: I'm fine. My eyeballs are freezing though! The wind hurts them. Do tears freeze?
Paul: I don't think so... Do you want my sunglasses?
Me: No. My face is just a little cold, but I'm good.
He stands there, motionless... still staring at me.
Me: What?
Paul: Nothing. (he raises his eyebrows a few quick times at me).
Me: What!
Paul: Nothing!
pause
Paul: You look good.
omg. Seriously?
Me: Are you kidding me?!
Paul: What?!
Me: Paul! It is freakin' 24 below zero and you are giving me the look!? Out here!? In the middle of the golf course!
Paul: Well!
Me: Holy!
Paul: Well... I'm making an outdoors woman out of you...
pause
Me: And that's hot?
Paul: Kinda!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Ethan Time
When Grayson first came to visit earlier this week, Ethan took pride in being the "older" cousin. He was like a mother duck... herding Grayson around, hugging him, helping him navigate the great big Amundson house.
Yeah. The novelty has officially worn off.
Yesterday afternoon Ethan was sobbing because while he was playing with his Lite Brite, Grayson wanted to share.
This morning, Ethan and Grayson were at the kitchen table with Ethan's new art set. Grayson was busily coloring away... and Ethan just sat there - staring straight ahead.
Me: What's wrong Ethan?
Ethan: I don't want to play with Grayson.
Me: Well you aren't playing with Grayson. You are both coloring and sharing the art supplies.
Ethan: But I don't want him next to me.
Me: Then sit here (I point to another chair at the table).
Ethan: I want him to sit up there. (He points to the breakfast bar).
Me: Ethan. Knock it off.
Ethan mumbles something.
Me: What? What did you say?
Ethan mumbles something again.
I bend in closer to hear.
Me: What did you say?
Ethan whispers: I don't want him here anymore.
Me: Ethan.
Ethan: What!?
Me: How old are you?
Ethan: Three!
Me: Well you sure are acting like you are three!
Ethan grunts as me.
Me: They are leaving tomorrow morning. This is the last day they will be here to play.
Ethan: (yells) But I want some Ethan time! I need Ethan time!
I bite my lip and look over at Paul and my sister, who are both looking away so we all don't laugh.
Me: If you want Ethan time, you can have it in your room.
pause
Ethan looks at me like I am a complete traitor. His eyes fill up with tears, but he is too proud to cry in front of all of us.
He gets up and walks out of the kitchen. We hear him walk up the stairs. A few moments later... we all hear the door slam.
sigh
It is hard for the baby not to be the baby. It is hard for the mommy too.
Yeah. The novelty has officially worn off.
Yesterday afternoon Ethan was sobbing because while he was playing with his Lite Brite, Grayson wanted to share.
This morning, Ethan and Grayson were at the kitchen table with Ethan's new art set. Grayson was busily coloring away... and Ethan just sat there - staring straight ahead.
Me: What's wrong Ethan?
Ethan: I don't want to play with Grayson.
Me: Well you aren't playing with Grayson. You are both coloring and sharing the art supplies.
Ethan: But I don't want him next to me.
Me: Then sit here (I point to another chair at the table).
Ethan: I want him to sit up there. (He points to the breakfast bar).
Me: Ethan. Knock it off.
Ethan mumbles something.
Me: What? What did you say?
Ethan mumbles something again.
I bend in closer to hear.
Me: What did you say?
Ethan whispers: I don't want him here anymore.
Me: Ethan.
Ethan: What!?
Me: How old are you?
Ethan: Three!
Me: Well you sure are acting like you are three!
Ethan grunts as me.
Me: They are leaving tomorrow morning. This is the last day they will be here to play.
Ethan: (yells) But I want some Ethan time! I need Ethan time!
I bite my lip and look over at Paul and my sister, who are both looking away so we all don't laugh.
Me: If you want Ethan time, you can have it in your room.
pause
Ethan looks at me like I am a complete traitor. His eyes fill up with tears, but he is too proud to cry in front of all of us.
He gets up and walks out of the kitchen. We hear him walk up the stairs. A few moments later... we all hear the door slam.
sigh
It is hard for the baby not to be the baby. It is hard for the mommy too.
Friday, January 1, 2010
The other man
Boy o' boy, was I in trouble with Ethan tonight.
He was super tired, and so was his cousin Grayson... so my sister and I came upstairs to put them to bed.
I told Ethan to put on his jams and to come into my room when he was done. I then proceeded to go to my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.
I came out of the bathroom and no Ethan. I walked into his bedroom and no Ethan. I poke my head into the room Yaso is staying in with the kids and called out for Ethan. I don't see anyone. I called out for him a few times... then began to head down the stairs to look for him when I heard:
Grayson: Chiiiinnnnnoooooo! Chinnnnoooooo! I'm here!
I turned around and came back up the stairs.
Me: Ethan? Grayson?
Grayson: I'm herrrrrrreeee!
Me: Whose here?
Grayson: It's meeee Chinnnooooo!
I look around and finally find the source. Grayson is in his bed, smiling at me.
Me: Grayson! I didn't see you there!
Grayson: (giggles)
I walk in and snuggle next to him.
Me: Where is Ethan?
Grayson: I don't know Chino.
Me: Hmmmm.... (pause). Do you still love Fargo?
Grayson: Yes. (giggle).
Me: Hmmmmm.... Do you want to stay in Fargo?
Grayson: Actually... I need to go home because I miss Rudy (their black lab).
Me: Oh. Of course. But do you want to come back to Fargo again?
Grayson: Actually... I need to go home because it is my mom's birthday and then my birthday.
His mother's birthday is in April and his is in May.
Me: Oh yes. You don't want to miss that.
Grayson: But I want you to come to my birthday.
Me: Oh - we really want to come to your birthday like we did last year. We had so much fun at your house in Florida last year.
He nods in agreement.
I start tickling and kissing him and out of the corner of my eye... I see him.
Ethan.
He is standing at the doorway with his lower lip sticking out far enough for a bird to poop on it.
Uh oh.
Me: Ethan! Where were you!? I was waiting for your to get dressed and I couldn't find you!
He continues staring at me, lower lip still sticking out.
Me: Ethan. Really. I was all ready to put you to bed and you weren't in my room. I looked for you all over and I couldn't find you. Go put on your jams so I can put you to bed.
Ethan: (grunts. Still doesn't move).
Me: Ethan. Mommy is saying goodnight to Grayson. They will only be here one more day. Now put on you jams so you and I can snuggle.
Why do I find myself feeling like I've been caught red-handed? Is it the grunts? The lower lip? The fact my baby has caught me with someone else's baby treating him like my baby?
Ethan: (grunts).
Me: Ethan!
Ethan grunts and slowly moves away from the door until he disappears.
A few moments later, he appears in the doorway again with his undies on. I give Grayson one last kiss, jump up and lead Ethan into my room.
Me: Ethan. Are you upset about something?
Ethan: No! (loudly).
Me: Oh! Of course not. You are just crabby.
Ethan: No I'm not! I'm not crabby!
Me: Oh sure. No. You are not crabby.
Ethan: (grunts).
Me: So why do you look so angry.
Ethan: I'm not angry!
Me: Oh. Okay - you are not angry.
long pause
I tuck him under my covers and wrap my arms around him.
Me: (whispering) You know Ethan? You will always be mommy's baby.
pause
Ethan: (whispering) Okay.
pause
Ethan: I love you mom.
He was super tired, and so was his cousin Grayson... so my sister and I came upstairs to put them to bed.
I told Ethan to put on his jams and to come into my room when he was done. I then proceeded to go to my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.
I came out of the bathroom and no Ethan. I walked into his bedroom and no Ethan. I poke my head into the room Yaso is staying in with the kids and called out for Ethan. I don't see anyone. I called out for him a few times... then began to head down the stairs to look for him when I heard:
Grayson: Chiiiinnnnnoooooo! Chinnnnoooooo! I'm here!
I turned around and came back up the stairs.
Me: Ethan? Grayson?
Grayson: I'm herrrrrrreeee!
Me: Whose here?
Grayson: It's meeee Chinnnooooo!
I look around and finally find the source. Grayson is in his bed, smiling at me.
Me: Grayson! I didn't see you there!
Grayson: (giggles)
I walk in and snuggle next to him.
Me: Where is Ethan?
Grayson: I don't know Chino.
Me: Hmmmm.... (pause). Do you still love Fargo?
Grayson: Yes. (giggle).
Me: Hmmmmm.... Do you want to stay in Fargo?
Grayson: Actually... I need to go home because I miss Rudy (their black lab).
Me: Oh. Of course. But do you want to come back to Fargo again?
Grayson: Actually... I need to go home because it is my mom's birthday and then my birthday.
His mother's birthday is in April and his is in May.
Me: Oh yes. You don't want to miss that.
Grayson: But I want you to come to my birthday.
Me: Oh - we really want to come to your birthday like we did last year. We had so much fun at your house in Florida last year.
He nods in agreement.
I start tickling and kissing him and out of the corner of my eye... I see him.
Ethan.
He is standing at the doorway with his lower lip sticking out far enough for a bird to poop on it.
Uh oh.
Me: Ethan! Where were you!? I was waiting for your to get dressed and I couldn't find you!
He continues staring at me, lower lip still sticking out.
Me: Ethan. Really. I was all ready to put you to bed and you weren't in my room. I looked for you all over and I couldn't find you. Go put on your jams so I can put you to bed.
Ethan: (grunts. Still doesn't move).
Me: Ethan. Mommy is saying goodnight to Grayson. They will only be here one more day. Now put on you jams so you and I can snuggle.
Why do I find myself feeling like I've been caught red-handed? Is it the grunts? The lower lip? The fact my baby has caught me with someone else's baby treating him like my baby?
Ethan: (grunts).
Me: Ethan!
Ethan grunts and slowly moves away from the door until he disappears.
A few moments later, he appears in the doorway again with his undies on. I give Grayson one last kiss, jump up and lead Ethan into my room.
Me: Ethan. Are you upset about something?
Ethan: No! (loudly).
Me: Oh! Of course not. You are just crabby.
Ethan: No I'm not! I'm not crabby!
Me: Oh sure. No. You are not crabby.
Ethan: (grunts).
Me: So why do you look so angry.
Ethan: I'm not angry!
Me: Oh. Okay - you are not angry.
long pause
I tuck him under my covers and wrap my arms around him.
Me: (whispering) You know Ethan? You will always be mommy's baby.
pause
Ethan: (whispering) Okay.
pause
Ethan: I love you mom.
Alpha
A couple nights ago, Yasmine and I took all six kids out for Chinese food. This includes my four boys, and Yasmine's son Grayson who is 4, and daughter Anya, who is 9.
On the way home in the car, my son Zachary announces from the back:
Zach: Uhm... we've all decided that Anya is the alpha male of this pack.
On the way home in the car, my son Zachary announces from the back:
Zach: Uhm... we've all decided that Anya is the alpha male of this pack.
NOT the mall
Have I mentioned my nephew Grayson is particular? I'm pretty sure I have already. He is also extraordinarily stubborn. He may even match my Zayd on that.
Just to recap for a moment, my sister Yasmine, and her two kids, Anya, 9 and Grayson, 4, are here from Florida visiting for a week.
Yesterday, we had to figure out a way to distract Grayson from the fact that we couldn't take him to Grand Forks for a day of swimming at the swim park, because Auntie Chino ended up working all day. (Fortunately, Anya went up to the GF with Uncle Paul and the boys).
Yasmine decided the best way to distract him was to take him to the mall where he had seen a candy store and get him some candy.
Trouble is, Auntie Chino parked in different entrance of the mall.... one Grayson was not familiar with... so Grayson was insistent that we were NOT at the mall.
The following statements made by Grayson are at a high C, with a strong sing-songy, whistle-type whine. Highly effective.
Grayson: Chiiiinnnnnoooooooo! When ard we go-in to da mawww?
Me: I am taking you to the mall Grayson.
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwww Chinnnoooo.
Me: Yes it is Grayson. This is the mall.
pause
Grayson: Chinoooo. Dis is not da mawww. Chinoooo? When ard you tak-in me to da mawww?
Me: I am taking you to that mall Grayson. I promise. Auntie Chino is taking you to the mall.
pause
Grayson: Dis is not da mawww. Mommmmmmyyyyyy, when are we go-in to da mawww? Why isn't Chinoooo tak-in me to da mawww?
Yaso: Grayson. Auntie Chino is taking you to the mall. This is the mall. We are at the mall.
Grayson: Noooooooooooooooo!
I pull into a parking spot.
Me: Grayson. Here we are! We are at the mall! And we are going to get candy! Hooray!
Grayson is now clearly disturbed by my statement. He is thinking, "Who is this Auntie Chino anyways? First, she screws with my trip to a water park and now she is taking me to this place she claims is the mall. This is crap. Crap I tell you."
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwwww. Nooooooooo. I don't love dis place. I don't love it Chinoooo. I do not want to go here. I want to go to da mawwwwwww!!! (whining is intensifying now).
For whatever reason - probably because it's been a while since I had a four year old around... also probably because I have never been around someone like Grayson... I keep thinking he'll snap out of this any time now.
Yaso pulls him out of the car and we start walking towards the entrance.
Me: Grayson! Hold Auntie Chino's hand!
Grayson looks at me like I am the devil. Whoa. This is serious.
Me: Grayson. I swear this is the mall! This is the mall. There are lots of ways to get into the mall and this is different than the way Papa took you. But this is a better way because it is faster. The candy store is right here.
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwww! (he is now crying).
Yaso: Yes it is Grayson.
Grayson begins trying to hold Yaso back. It is freakin' cold outside and she stops to reason with him.
Really?
Yaso: Grayson. This is the mall. Mommy promises you this is the mall. Okay? Chino is bringing us to a place that is closer to the candy store. Now stop. We are going inside the mall.
Grayson: Noooooooooooo!!!!
Okay. At this point, if this was my child, I would pick him up and put him back in the car and say to heck with it. Forget the candy. Forget that I screwed up your trip to the water park. I am freezing and I am not going to argue with you in the parking lot of the mall - a mall that I, in fact, have been to thousands of times and know like the back of my hand. But, this is not my child. This is my nephew and fortunately his extraordinarily patient mother is with him. So I do what any other mother in my position would do in this situation. I walk away and pretend I don't know either of them.
Yaso: Grayson. (she and Grayson have stopped in the middle of the parking lot) Grayson. This is just another way into the mall. I am taking you to get candy.
Grayson: Nooooooooo!!!!
o.m.g
Finally. Finally after some arguing that I heard from a distance because I left them... Yaso and Grayson make it to the door. I hold it open.
Me: Oh. My. God, Yaso.
Yaso: I know. See? See what I mean? He is sooo stubborn.
Grayson: Seeeee mooommmmmmyyyyy! Dis is not da mawwww.
Yaso: This is the mall Grayson. We are going to see the fountain soon. Remember the fountain were you put the pennies?
I conjure up my positive attitude. I pull out my Mary Kay attitude from deep deep within...
Me: Come on Grayson! Follow Chino to the mall! It's this way.
Grayson: (now crying).
Me: We are almost there!
A few moments later, we emerge from the department store to the main area of the mall - fountain and all. I mean - if a fountain doesn't prove that this is a mall, I don't know what will.
I turn around to look at him.
Me: See Grayson?! It's the mall! I told you I would take you to the mall. See?
His eyes narrow and he looks away in defeat. He knows we are in the mall and he can't deny it.
pause
Grayson: Dis is not da maw.
pause
Grayson: I do not see da candy stow.
Just to recap for a moment, my sister Yasmine, and her two kids, Anya, 9 and Grayson, 4, are here from Florida visiting for a week.
Yesterday, we had to figure out a way to distract Grayson from the fact that we couldn't take him to Grand Forks for a day of swimming at the swim park, because Auntie Chino ended up working all day. (Fortunately, Anya went up to the GF with Uncle Paul and the boys).
Yasmine decided the best way to distract him was to take him to the mall where he had seen a candy store and get him some candy.
Trouble is, Auntie Chino parked in different entrance of the mall.... one Grayson was not familiar with... so Grayson was insistent that we were NOT at the mall.
The following statements made by Grayson are at a high C, with a strong sing-songy, whistle-type whine. Highly effective.
Grayson: Chiiiinnnnnoooooooo! When ard we go-in to da mawww?
Me: I am taking you to the mall Grayson.
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwww Chinnnoooo.
Me: Yes it is Grayson. This is the mall.
pause
Grayson: Chinoooo. Dis is not da mawww. Chinoooo? When ard you tak-in me to da mawww?
Me: I am taking you to that mall Grayson. I promise. Auntie Chino is taking you to the mall.
pause
Grayson: Dis is not da mawww. Mommmmmmyyyyyy, when are we go-in to da mawww? Why isn't Chinoooo tak-in me to da mawww?
Yaso: Grayson. Auntie Chino is taking you to the mall. This is the mall. We are at the mall.
Grayson: Noooooooooooooooo!
I pull into a parking spot.
Me: Grayson. Here we are! We are at the mall! And we are going to get candy! Hooray!
Grayson is now clearly disturbed by my statement. He is thinking, "Who is this Auntie Chino anyways? First, she screws with my trip to a water park and now she is taking me to this place she claims is the mall. This is crap. Crap I tell you."
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwwww. Nooooooooo. I don't love dis place. I don't love it Chinoooo. I do not want to go here. I want to go to da mawwwwwww!!! (whining is intensifying now).
For whatever reason - probably because it's been a while since I had a four year old around... also probably because I have never been around someone like Grayson... I keep thinking he'll snap out of this any time now.
Yaso pulls him out of the car and we start walking towards the entrance.
Me: Grayson! Hold Auntie Chino's hand!
Grayson looks at me like I am the devil. Whoa. This is serious.
Me: Grayson. I swear this is the mall! This is the mall. There are lots of ways to get into the mall and this is different than the way Papa took you. But this is a better way because it is faster. The candy store is right here.
Grayson: Dis is not da mawwwww! (he is now crying).
Yaso: Yes it is Grayson.
Grayson begins trying to hold Yaso back. It is freakin' cold outside and she stops to reason with him.
Really?
Yaso: Grayson. This is the mall. Mommy promises you this is the mall. Okay? Chino is bringing us to a place that is closer to the candy store. Now stop. We are going inside the mall.
Grayson: Noooooooooooo!!!!
Okay. At this point, if this was my child, I would pick him up and put him back in the car and say to heck with it. Forget the candy. Forget that I screwed up your trip to the water park. I am freezing and I am not going to argue with you in the parking lot of the mall - a mall that I, in fact, have been to thousands of times and know like the back of my hand. But, this is not my child. This is my nephew and fortunately his extraordinarily patient mother is with him. So I do what any other mother in my position would do in this situation. I walk away and pretend I don't know either of them.
Yaso: Grayson. (she and Grayson have stopped in the middle of the parking lot) Grayson. This is just another way into the mall. I am taking you to get candy.
Grayson: Nooooooooo!!!!
o.m.g
Finally. Finally after some arguing that I heard from a distance because I left them... Yaso and Grayson make it to the door. I hold it open.
Me: Oh. My. God, Yaso.
Yaso: I know. See? See what I mean? He is sooo stubborn.
Grayson: Seeeee mooommmmmmyyyyy! Dis is not da mawwww.
Yaso: This is the mall Grayson. We are going to see the fountain soon. Remember the fountain were you put the pennies?
I conjure up my positive attitude. I pull out my Mary Kay attitude from deep deep within...
Me: Come on Grayson! Follow Chino to the mall! It's this way.
Grayson: (now crying).
Me: We are almost there!
A few moments later, we emerge from the department store to the main area of the mall - fountain and all. I mean - if a fountain doesn't prove that this is a mall, I don't know what will.
I turn around to look at him.
Me: See Grayson?! It's the mall! I told you I would take you to the mall. See?
His eyes narrow and he looks away in defeat. He knows we are in the mall and he can't deny it.
pause
Grayson: Dis is not da maw.
pause
Grayson: I do not see da candy stow.
Can-ee-choowa
I am typing up a blog entry and Ethan is working on his Lite-Brite next to me...
He starts singing something and I only catch the last few words...
Ethan: ...and that's how you say thank you in Chineseeeeeee! (singing)
I look up from typing
Me: Huh?
Ethan: What?
Me: What did you say?
Ethan: Nothing.
Me: No. You said something about Chinese?
Ethan: Oh. Thank you in Chinese.
Me: You know how to say thank you in Chinese?
Ethan: Yes. Can-ee-choowa.
pause
I am looking totally puzzled. Is he pulling my leg?
Me: How do you know that?
He gives me a look like, "Are you seriously THAT dumb mom? How do you think I learned it?"
Ethan: I learned it on TV.
He gives me a snort laugh and gets back to his Lite Bright.
I still have no idea if he is pulling my leg.
He starts singing something and I only catch the last few words...
Ethan: ...and that's how you say thank you in Chineseeeeeee! (singing)
I look up from typing
Me: Huh?
Ethan: What?
Me: What did you say?
Ethan: Nothing.
Me: No. You said something about Chinese?
Ethan: Oh. Thank you in Chinese.
Me: You know how to say thank you in Chinese?
Ethan: Yes. Can-ee-choowa.
pause
I am looking totally puzzled. Is he pulling my leg?
Me: How do you know that?
He gives me a look like, "Are you seriously THAT dumb mom? How do you think I learned it?"
Ethan: I learned it on TV.
He gives me a snort laugh and gets back to his Lite Bright.
I still have no idea if he is pulling my leg.
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