Airing of grievances

Sam leaned too hard on his green balloon this evening and it popped.

It was devastating.

In full despair, Sam declared he loved that balloon and no longer wanted any bright green balloons. They were forever ruined for him.

Just then, Natalie climbed off my lap and onto the dinner table. 

"Does it make you feel better to see your sister on the table, shaking a baggie at you?" I asked.

"No," he grunted.

"Does it make you feel better to remember that on our walk today, you got to poke a stick into some poop?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "A little bit."

Anti-Quiche Establishment

There's a stark divide in this house and it centers around QUICHE. 

I have always loved quiche and cannot fathom why any palate would find it unappealing. But I married a man who dislikes quiche and our son has inherited his poor taste.

Precious daughter, however, is a big fan. So pllllllllbbbbttttt.

I made a quiche yesterday and have been enjoying it since. 

Tonight I was cuddling with Sam and we discussed quiche.

Me: Tomorrow you can have quiche for breakfast.

Sam: Tomorrow I may not get hungry.

Point to the tiny person for his humor.

Point to mom, who gets to finish the quiche (though hungry baby will need some too).

Closing in on 4 (and just passing 1)

As it happens, my kids are growing up. It shouldn't come as a surprise - but because every new phase is brightly different, it is always surprising.

Sam is brave enough to go down tall twisty slides (no big deal for some 2-year-olds, but a really big deal for him), has a vocabulary of a teenager (if you can forgive the "deedickilious" pronunciations), and a stunning power of observation. And he no longer says "waffa" for "lava". The volcano obsession continues.

Natalie has two upper teeth now to go with her two lowers. But it's funny to see that her uppers are not her two front teeth, which would match the lowers. Now her grin looks like some sort of funky zipper.

She is smart and funny. She still loves to go and do, but right now she seems a little less busy. She often does one thing at a time now, rather than a spastic collection of half-finished tasks. She is SO PRETTY.

We are all sick at the moment with some flu. Sam came to greet me a couple mornings ago and heard my hoarse voice in response. He looked thoughtfully at me and said, "I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I'm super sorry you're sick. I'll pray for you a lot. And I will get you an animal to help you feel better." He raced off and was back in a second with brown bear from the Eric Carle books. It was such a sweet thing to do...and I didn't even have to mention how I was feeling.

We just finished a weeklong visit from Grandma and Grabdpa Tractor. We had such a nice time. They arrived on Natalie's first birthday, just in time to announce that she seemed to be coming down with a fever. She was the first to get the flu. So far, Grandpa was the last. He is really sick right now...poor guy. While here he helped me build a headboard for my room and a bookcase for Sam's room. They are beautiful. It's a treasure to have them.

Visits from both my parents at the same time are rare and so sweet.

My friend David, part II

Sam: "Last time, my friend David took a drink of toilet water."

Me: "That's terrible."

Sam: "It is. Then he choked."

My friend David

Sam has this terribly unfortunate friend, David, to whom the most tragic things happen.

David gets eaten by animals.

David falls off the chair.

David hurts himself on the sidewalk.

"One time my friend David got bited by a crocodile," Sam said last night.

The thing is, Sam doesn't have any friends named David. Grandpa's name is David, but he made it clear these tales are not about grandpa. I can only guess who he is imagining and what will happen next to that poor boy.

"How is your friend David today," I asked.

"My friend David did not get eaten by any crocodiles or any tigers or any lions," he replied.

"So is he having a good day?" I asked.

"Yes," said Sam. "Someday he's going to get in trouble by crocodiles. They're going to be wrestling him."

It's time to start praying now, David. 

First comes hugs

I knelt by Sam the other morning and gave him a couple tight hugs.

Getting up, I said "Now let's go brush your teeth. Come with me."

I walked a few steps toward the bathroom, but he didn't budge. 

"Come on," I said.

"But, but, mo-om," he said in a little broken voice. His face was twisted with the beginning of a wail.  "After hugs comes kisses."

That was a really sweet moment!

Songs of his people

I never know what I'm going to hear around here. A young, imaginative mind paired with a muddled comprehension of the world yields odd results. As in:

"All mish misha ride togethaaa. All mish misha ride togethaaa!" - as of yet unintified tune and origin

"We did not remember where we had gone. Oh where, oh where can the baby be?" - to the tune of "Where oh where has my little dog gone?"

"God is watching! God is watching!" - fairly accurate rendition of "From a Distance"

"Bang all day ahh Sunday niiiight!" - from the NFL theme "Waiting all day for Sunday night"

"App along ah if you feel... App along ah if you feel!" - from Pharrell's "Happy"

For some reason, I worried I was going to have to teach my child to have an imagination and play pretend - how ridiculous. It looks like that's hard-wired in to childhood. Creativity (and sound) oozes out of Sam as soon as his feet hit the floor in the morning. Oddly, it's harder to smile about than I expected. The noise is so constant and so immediate! It seems he is never quiet. I am usually quiet, so it can be quite grating for me. Sometimes I Just. Don't. Want. To. Hear. Noise.

Thankfully, I am pretty good at yoga breathing. And he's very cute when he sleeps. These things restore my soul.