Jack and I had the following conversation this weekend.
Me: We sure are having a fun day.
Jack: What did we do?
Me: We painted, played play dough…
Jack: And now we are talking…
Me: And we are going to a playground.
Jack: I’m sorry, did you say we went to a playground?
Me: No, I said we were going to a playground, because we are on our way now.
Jack: Oh. I’m sorry, I misunderstood.
Me: (thinking: big word for a 4 year old.)
Jack: You know, misunderstood is pretty hard to say…. with a banana in your mouth.
Jack and I stayed home yesterday, while Dave and Luke braved the 45 mile an hour winds at Eldora. Jack had me making a list of activities before I was even out of bed. By about 10:00 am we had everything crossed off and I wanted to just sit for a minute. Jack wanted to glue so I decided to work on my scrapbook while he made a collage. The top two items in the recycling bin were the latest Anthropologie catalog and the Ohio University Alumni magazine.
Jack wanted to know – “If we glue the heart on top of these guys, will they come to life?”
We decided not to risk it, but just placed the hearts there for a second to take the photo.
Luke was reading his book before bedtime the other day and he needed help with a vocabulary word: Ding Dong. I had him use in it a sentence for me first, before I came up with this excellent definition, “it’s like a ho-ho or a twinkie, but instead of being chocolate of vanilla it’s pink or something and covered in coconut.” I just spent upwards of two minutes researching hostess products only to find that what I described to Luke was actually a Sno Ball. Regardless, his response took me by surprise. He said, “What’s a twinkie? What’s a ho ho?”
Come on! I know we are Boulder hippies, but we aren’t that bad! What’s a ho ho? Are you kidding me? I told him that when I was a kid I had the generic version for lunch every single day of my life. We we were a Swiss Cake Roll family. And when I did finally see or maybe even taste a honest to go ho ho later in life I thought Swiss Cake Rolls were actually better.
My mom kept the Swiss Cake Rolls in the freezer. Why? I don’t know. But when she opened a 2-pack and put one in your lunch, you either got the one that had half the chocolate from the other roll stuck to it, or you got the one that had half the chocolate missing. Hence the childhood phrase, “I CALL CHOCOLATE.”
Twinkies, on the other hand, never crossed the threshold of our house. I always wished we could get twinkies just once, but it never happened. By the time I started babysitting and had my own spending money, I was twelve and had already started dieting, (and by “dieting”, I mean, “lying about my weight”) so even though I still wanted to try a twinkie, I knew it wouldn’t be that enjoyable in the long run.
I shared all these snack cake related memories with the boys and Jack’s response was, “I want one of those Santas!”
Oh honey, “It’s Ho-ho.”
No need to go into the back story here. Without further ado, I present to you this:
At dinner, Jack said, “Who has two thumbs and his tongue up his nose? This guy.”
Yesterday, Jack said, “Some adults are weird. Not you, Mommy.”
Oh really, who is weird?
“You know, like Daddy.”
Jack and I kicked off the Cookie Baking Extravaganza yesterday. We made tollhouse chocoloate chip cookies, just to get things rolling. Then we made the dough for sugar cookies, and we made chewy chocolate gingerbread cookies. Then we tried to take a nap, but for some reason… couldn’t seem to settle down.
This pose reminded me of my first year baking with Jack, in 2008.
Aww. And I can’t have a Then and Now, without a Luke picture too, circa 2005, when he was 2, going on 3.
The plan is to make at least one dough, or one cookie recipe per night this week.
I asked Jack to mark some cookie recipes for me so I can plan my annual cookie baking extravaganza. He marked some and now he is taking a break. Looks like I am going to be busy.
Behold that carnage that is a 4 year old birthday party. And by “birthday party” I mean, we let Jack invite two friends over. I took this picture when Jack said, “Mama, I left my lego guy downstairs, can you please get it?” And guess what, I found it! Take that needle in a haystack.
In other news, sweet Lucy turned 2 today. The posse of kids baked her a cake, and that was a big hit. My milestone was that I finally accepted that Lucy is crazy, and that probably isn’t going to change. So what?
One part of our disappointing trip to the Apple Store that was more “funny” than disappointing, was Jack’s comment in the children’s area.
By “funny”, I mean that I laughed when I should have been horrified. Can you get more Typical Boulder than riding your bike to the Apple Store on a rainy Saturday? Of course we went to Whole Foods on our way home, for free-range tofu. (Not really, we get our tofu at the grocery store that is closer to our house.) Oh wait, the typical Boulderite would probably actually drive their SUV to the Apple Store. Oh wait, we did drive that day. But it was in our fuel efficient car! Now I’m confused, are we typical Boulderites or not?
Regardless, why was my almost 4 year old playing educational video games at the Apple Store when he could have been doing experiential learning on a hike with hand made wooden toys, from locally-crafted, beetle-kill trees? And why for the love of God, did he have to loudly say, “I DON”T WANT TO PLAY THIS DORA GAME. DON’T THEY HAVE ANY VIDEO GAMES THAT GO LIKE THIS?” And then he made gun sounds and mimicked the action of shooting a room full of people with an AK-47.
And then I laughed.
I recently quit a job that required that I work night and day, weekends, holidays, the whole deal. Dave really picked up the slack with the groceries, and the kid pick ups and drop offs, and the general all around parenting. Consequently, I missed some turn over at the day care and I don’t know some names. My strategy here has been to pick up Jack and then ask him which teacher was playing with him when I got there. But I wait until we leave, and at that point, he doesn’t remember. Yesterday we peaked through the windows on the way out and I asked names. The wonderful, friendly, loving teacher that we saw through the window? Jack told me her name was Hermonica. I said, “Could it be Monica?” Nope. Hermonica. The worst part is that I am going to have to be told about 10 times before I can remember, and I think he tells me a different made up name each time.
Guess I’ll stick with, “Hey, you! Thanks for taking care of my baby!”