Evil Genius in the Making

An unexpected excerpt from my bedtime conversation with Cayden:

"I mean, I love flamethrowers, but I am not planning on buying one anytime soon"

How…. comforting.

Learning Anatomy

D: (touching Ty's forehead) What is that?
T: Its my forehead
D: (strokes Ty's eyelid) What is that?
T: My eyelid
D: (reaches for Ty's eye again) Can I touch the colored part?
T: NO!

The Age of Literalism

J: Dalton, can I have a kiss?

D: No. I give Daddy a kiss! (runs over to Tyson and kisses him on the cheek)

J: Yeah! Daddy got kisses!

D: No Mommy. ONE kiss.

Power and Pesto

I came home a bit late from work the other night, and Tyson and Dalton were already in the kitchen working on making pizza for dinner. Dalton was standing on a stool with his hands wrapped around a container of pesto (we shun the traditional tomato-sauce pizza… too wet for home cooking).

D: I can open it?
T: Not yet honey.
D: I can open it?
T:Not yet honey, I need to finish spreading the dough first.
D: I can open it?
T: Sweetheart, count to five.
D: FIVE!
T: Fair enough, I didn't say count from 1 to 5. But I am going to take the pesto away now and give it back to you when it is time to open it.
D: And I will scoop it out because I am the teacher of eating!*

Dalton has been claiming teacher status often of late - and usually in a situation where he would prefer to have a little more power. I find it fascinating that he has not claimed the role of 'mommy' or 'daddy' but is completely comfortable telling me, "No, you don't sing it. I am the teacher, I sing the songs". It reminds me that two year olds are living a daily Catch-22: to learn about the world you have to interact with it, but as a two year old you have boundaries that your grown-ups are often not comfortable with, and so you are often told to stop or disengage. It is a useful reminder to create environments where I can say yes instead of no, and to have understanding for how overwhelming his emotional world can be (the good and the bad). Also, it is a good idea to keep pesto hidden if you want to cook with it (he ate about a quarter cup of straight pesto with a spoon after the pizzas were made).

Adventures of a Drama Queen: Episode # 129876

Setting the scene: Cayden and Dalton are running through the living room at top speed, as though their hair was on fire. Cayden stubs his toe.

C: AAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHH! (rolls on floor producing blood curdling screams. BLOOD. CURDLING.)

T: Sweetheart, come here (gently prods injured toes)

T: Can you move it?

C: Yes

T: Bend it for me

C: It bends fine (in a completely calm and normal tone of voice)

T: I don't think it is broken.

C: Okay

J: You know son, the intensity of your screaming was completely out of proportion with the severity of your injury

T: Yeah honey, you were screaming like you had just broken an arm

C:……Yeah….. I'm okay with that.

This is your brain exposed to an older brother

Two choice conversations I had with my youngest today that I NEVER had with my oldest at age two. TWO! Cayden waited until 4 to turn into an obnoxious teenager.

J: What did you do at school today?

D: No! I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about my day!

J: (delivering a requested orange truck and finding D out of bed playing with a different truck in the middle of the floor) D honey, you are supposed to be in bed.

D: Hey! I had to get a truck!

J: I can see that, but play with it in bed please.

D: Hey Mommy! I HAD to get a TRUCK!

Fun With Language Learning

setting the scene…. Dalton sits comfortably on Mommy's lap while Daddy points to a picture on the computer

T: That's Christiano Ronaldo opening a Cristiano Ronaldo Museum

J: No! Really? What a putz.

J (to D): You're not a putz, you're my boy.

D:. I not a boy, I a PUTZ!

For reference:

(Cristiano-Ronaldo-014.jpg)

Future NPR Anchorman?

This is what Cayden, my six year old son, said to me first thing in the morning last week:

C: Well, Mommy…. I had quite the battle with my pants.

J: Oh yeah?

C: Yes - but the I realized that if you push from the back that little thing pops out and you can just zip them up. So I think I have got this whole pants thing figured out now.

It's just not the same

Comparing the older sibling to the younger sibling (in a nonjudgmental way, of course):

Cayden (at age two, sad about going to bed): I want my Mommy!

Dalton (last night, also sad about going to bed): I want my Mommy! I want my Mommy!…….. Cayden, go get Mommy!

Irony is...

Getting stabbed in the eye with a wooden training knife less than 5 minutes after you, your training partner, and your instructor all agree that safety glasses would be a good idea and determine that we would all pack some in our bags for next week. Happily I managed to fish the contact lens off the back of my eyeball without a trip to the ER.

Child of Hippies

Dalton: Me Dalton napkin!
Cayden: No Dalton, not that one. We have cloth ones, we don't use those because they are disposable.

The Next Generation

Now that we are settled into Seattle a little bit, Cayden started camp at Discovery park on Monday. He has come back with some impressive war wounds - on his first day he hid in a thorn bush during the camouflage lesson. Getting in was apparently easy, but getting out was more of a challenge. Last night Tyson noticed another bloody scrape on the inside of Cayden's wrist:

T: What is that one from?
C: I don't know! It's like a discovered check Daddy, only it's a discovered wound! I just found it today!

I thought that Tyson might actually weep with pride and joy - he finally has somebody in the house to play chess with.

Walking Man

The weather turned unbelievably beautiful and mild here over the past couple days and to revel in it we took the family on a walk around the neighborhood after dinner. One of my favorite things about watching little ones grow is how transparent they are in their pride. As grown-ups it can be considered conceited to revel in your accomplishments. But sometimes when you have slaved over a project, when it all comes together you should revel. You should be proud. You should laugh and clap and dance- but you probably don't. Dalton, on the other hand has no compunctions dancing, shouting, clapping and laughing with pride. Tonight was his first long walk out of the stroller and his sheer delight at being a big boy was beautiful to behold. He pretty much just did whatever Cayden did, so I asked Cayden to be obvious about stopping at intersections since Dalton is still learning. Being an excellent big brother, Cayden jumped in the air, then landed in a crouch with his hands outstretched in the classic "stop" sign at the next street crossing. Dalton proceeded to spend the next block walking five feet, squatting, putting his hands out and growling, then standing up and laughing like a mad man. It was one of those idyllic moments portrayed in a cheesy movie, where everything came together and everyone was laughing. Less than sixty seconds later they both diggered and started crying, but hey, I'll take what I can get. 

She asked for it...

We celebrated the end of the summer at The! Great! Allentown! Fair! on Saturday night with special guest-star Vavo. Much fun was had by all - I can't tell what Tyson enjoys more, poking fuzzy bunnies or riffling through the RV displays (I won't even endeavor to describe Vavo's joy at the dairy cows, I couldn't do it justice). Since Dalton is a bit young for rides and a bit intolerant of life past bedtime, I left Cayden, Daddy and Vavo to enjoy the rides for another hour while I walked home to put the pumpkin in bed. As I was headed towards the exit a little boy shoved by me to run ahead. Hot on his heals was a woman calling, "Loki! Wait!". Um, yeah...

Helmets

Is it wrong that we got him the pink bunny helmet?  It's just so CUTE.

Guileless?

C: reaches to pull stuffed snake out of D's hands
J: Cayden, Dalton is playing with that right now. You will have to wait until he is finished
C: pauses to think - So Mommy, I am going to come snuggle in your lap. D will get jealous, drop it and come over. Then I can jump down and grab Arbok (the snake)
J: Are you trying to involve me in your plan to emotionally manipulate your brother?
C: Yes!
J: stares down at the boy with one eyebrow raised
C: What? Mommy, it's my TRUE PLAN!

Roland of LFP 1999-2012

After 8 great years, 1 Jumping Cholla attack, countless snow-shoeing excursions, the treeing of an innocent Korean woman, 3 doz. stolen tortilla wraps, and enough hair shedding to violate the law of conservation of mass, Roland has moved on to that great Carpet in the Sky.

We rescued Roland from the animal shelter in Woodinville, Wa in September of 2004.  Jordanna picked him out of all the dogs who met her stringent criteria of being at least 100lbs, less energetic than she, and having the temperament of a buddhist monk.  

Through 3 states he has been a fixture in our family.  He greeted the addition of two children to our family with calm drool and occasional kisses no matter how rigorous the “affection”.  

He loved the snow, licking empty peanut butter jars, and laying down in the most trafficked part of a house.  

Roland was a great dog and we will miss him dearly.

The Cayden Files

A conversation between Cayden and I as I trundled him into the car to go to dojo:

J: (singing a fake song to try and get the kid to listen while maintaining patience) Butt in the seat, butt in the seat, butt in the seat...
C: Hey Mommy?
J: Yeah honey.
C: When I sing songs, I don't like just repeat the same word over and over again.
J: Yes?
C: Yeah, I like throw in some whistles and hums, "Butt in the seat... yeah yeah yeah...hmmm...hmmm. butt in the seat..." That way it's not boring for people to listen to.
J: (smothers laughter)

Really?

Ty: I don't even know how to make a lower case L anymore.
J: It's a line
Ty: Oh yeah!

Baby Steals Camera, Details at 11.