Ask Nicely

I've been training to ask the boys nicely. This involves the word "please" and the lack of the whine or the scream in the voice.

But they've taken it to the next step and somehow have learned to say, "Pretty Mommy Sweetheart, can I PLEASE have a cookie?" If that sounds a bit coached, that's because it might have been a suggestion. Greg requests, "Daddy, Best Daddy in the world who I love so much...."

But Aldo just created his own. He asked, "Can I play Blue, Pretty Mommy? Because you make the best food?" We're going to have to watch this kid.

Shoplifting

Our first deliberate shoplifting incident happened last Thursday. They craftily hid the wind-up toys in their pockets and proudly revealed them to me when they got home. The toys were promptly confiscated and a lecture ensued. Owen's defense: "Aldo told me to take it." I totally believe him.

I took them back to the scene of the crime, put the toys in their hands and told them to go say sorry for taking them. I asked the saleslady if we needed to call the store police, or if they only did that the second time it happened.

She asked the boys, "What do you think? Should we call the police this time or the second time?" Owen smiled and said, "Third time."

Sigh.

When you live with a 3-year-old

When you walk with a dog, you are alerted to every other living animal in sniffer range--bird, bug, or ground squirrel.
When you drive with a dog, you can't hear anything above the sound of the air blowing through the crack of the window.

When you live with a 5-year-old, every new person you run into will be informed that he is, in fact, five years old, that he used to be four, but not anymore. A five-year-old girl wants to wear make-up. A five-year-old boy loves his (toy) gun--even if he isn't allowed to have one until have one until he's 7.

When you walk with a 5-year-old, he might shoot everything he sees with his pointer finger pistols until he is caught and told to stop.

When you live with a 3-year-old, he will tell you every time he farts. Sometimes with details.
You will consider stealing disposable seat covers for your own bathroom until he learns aim.
You are proud of his backwards pants and wrong-footed shoes because he got dressed by himself.
When you live with a 3-year-old, he will show you how much he loves you on his fingers.

New Pens!

I just went to Sears to spend my new Christmas gift card, (thanks Aunt Liz!) and picked out some gardening tools which is exactly what I was hoping to find. And they had an Office Depot next door.

As it happened, I needed some new colorful paperclips. So, I walked in and found instead new pens. I got a very pretty little turquoise number and bought its refill. And a Ultra fine Sharpie collection called Couleurs Cafe (with an accent.) They have earl grey, blueberry, pomegranite, hibiscus and mocha.

Delicious.

Oh, and I got a pencil box for Owen because he needs writing utensils for all his writing and stuff.

And then a the checkout counter, they had paperclips.

I'm going to break out Earl Grey right now to write down a recipe.

Owen's Christmas pictures

These are the pictures Owen took with the camera Santa brought him. They were all taken on Christmas day.

Here is Aldo looking intently at a gift under the tree.



Santa brought Aldo a Clone Wars trooper helmet --just like Owen's so now they don't have to fight. Thank you, Santa.



This may be the best picture of Greg that I've got. He usually has a look of reluctance or "Can you take it already?" in pictures, but Owen got him to smile.

This is Greg from Owen's eyeline.

Aldo playing with a remote control toy. It's marvelously loud.

Here is another remote control toy. Notice how Owen got in good and close to get the detail. They love remote control toys.

An impressionistic capturing of the dining room table.

The Christmas tree?

Study of Harriet's foot at the edge of her bed with large-eyed toy near her shoulder.

Goldie--another favorite toy of the year. I like the way he chose the slightly off-center portrait.

And a hand-held video game, literally.

That's the end of the gallery showing. All works available for purchase.

The unexpected

We've gotten the routines of boy-raising down, I'd say, but it's those sudden unexpected things that keep getting me. The sudden hunger/exhaustion that can turn a reasonable child into a screaming brat, the poop in the pants that can happen anytime and anywhere because the three-year-old thinks the toilet seat is too cold, and then there's the scary stuff: the illnesses that turn serious just at the hour the doctor's office closes for the weekend, the accidents and daring games they like to play.

Two days ago, Owen was having a minor meltdown which I diagnosed as tiredness and had him lie down in my bed. Aldo and I were sitting in the livingroom when our next-door neighbor stopped by to talk about taking care of her aging stray cat. I jumped around the hedge to see where the cat slept, but had to come running back after I heard Owen's panic shrieks coming from our house. I ran in picturing blood, but found him still in bed, wrapped up inside my duvet cover. He had crawled in and couldn't find his way out.

I hope that's the scariest story I ever have to tell about this subject.

Pictures by Owen 2009

How does my child see me? An interesting and largely hypothetical question. Unless your kid gets a hold of your camera.

A little off -center? I guess that's accurate.

He sometimes looks down on his brother. (Look at those chubby cheeks and pouty little lips!)

Harriet at rest.

An interesting perspective.
_____________________________________________

At Starbucks, "Please pretty mommy can I take some pictures?"

Who can say no to this face?

Not me, obviously. Especially not when we're out on a Mommy-Owen date.

I edited out the ones of the light fixtures and window shades.

He gets a new camera from Santa in less than a week. It'll be interesting what comes out of that. Stay posted.