Sparkles

For the last three weeks, Brent has been on a poptart kick. I let him have one or two for breakfast, a couple times a week. This really isn't pertinent information, but for background, we can assume that he's familiar with poptarts. All of the ones he's eaten are strawberry, and have come from the same box.

In the back seat this morning, while I'm traversing traffic, I hear him let out a sudden, high pitched scream. I look in the rear view mirror, and try to think of a place to pull over. He's holding out the last two bites of his poptart and shrieking: "THERE'S SPARKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I ask him what he means, which probably came out as "BRENT!!! WHAT are you TALKING ABOUT????" since adrenalin has forced my stomach into my throat and I'm mad at the non-emergency screaming.

He looks at the poptart, then at me, then wipes his tears and finishes it.

I briefly wonder how much a skinny three year old goes for on the black market, then go back to driving.

Waterslide!

Yesterday Brent and Alex got to use the new waterslide! I'm letting the pictures do most of the talkin'... The only thing that doesn't show is the fact that neither of them could figure out how to run and slide, so we had to push them for each trip. Occasionally they would want to "DO IT MYSELF!!!" and would skimmy down on their hands and knees.

(in the back seat, between Brent and Lucy)

Brent: Lucy, I'm going to ride a bear!
Lucy: What?? A what??!!
Brent: I'm going to my grandad's to ride a bear! At the circus!

(mental note - put phone on speakerphone when Brent is talking to his grandad)

Nostalgia

I spent a few hours over the last couple days re-reading all my posts on here from the beginning. I can't believe that I've been doing this for 3 years! Anyone who knows me, knows I tend to fizzle on things after awhile. But it was so warming to go back and read little anecdotes and stories that otherwise I would never have remembered. And it was so much fun to go back in time and remember those precious chubby thighs and crazy antics. So I have renewed vigor now to post more often, even just snippets here and there. Because I truly do cherish all the time I've had with Brent, and look forward to the many years ahead.

This morning on the way to work, he picked up his play phone and called Daddy. A long one-sided conversation ensued about where he was going (to school!) and what he was eating (baby pancakes). I tried to seize the opportunity, as usually he refuses to talk on the phone to ANYONE at ANYTIME.

"Here, Brent! Here's mommy's real phone! Go ahead and call and talk to Daddy". He knows how to hold the '2' button down to do this.
"No" he said matter-of-factly.
"Yes..." I offered.
"NO!"
"Honey. Just call and say hi. It's no different than a play phone". I held down the 2 button and handed the phone back. Since he was at work, we got the voice mail, and he squeaked out a "hi daddy" and an "I love you" and a "goodbye". Progress!

Last night I was finishing up the bedtime regiment, and asked him what he wanted for breakfast. "Hmmmmm.....," he thought for a minute. "I'll have chicken, and sausage, and eggs, and carrots, and peas, and......I think that's about it," he said with his finger on his chin in deep thought. "Well that's different," I said. "How about some waffles?!" He smiled excitedly and yelled "OKAY!!!!" Whew! Thought I might have to cook there for a minute!

Typical morning, circa July 2008

I walk into his darkened room, and see him highlighted in shades of red from his Lightning McQueen nightlight. Every morning half of me is so excited to wake him and start a new day, and the other half hates to throw a rippling rock onto the stillwater peacefullness of his sleep. Oh right, and there's also the fact that once I shatter that illusion, the next 15 minutes are spent with Brent, the Superhero of Bad Morning Attitudes.

I try to ease him into the day, and sit beside him on the bed, quietly rubbing his back. Nothing happens. "Brent....." I whisper in his ear. "Honey, it's time get up...". Usually this is greeted either again with nothing, or by him turning his face into the pillow and groaning "Noooooooooo".

"But Brent, it's time to go to school. Time to go play with Lucy and do artwork. Doesn't that sound fun?"
"I don't WANT to go to SCHOOL. I don't WANT to go. I don't WANT to go!!"...his eyes are still squeezed shut and his body completely tightens and turns into a straight, stiff board.
"Okay, then. I'll just sit here and pat your butt. Do you know how cute your little butt is?"
"Yles, I know! But I don't WANT to go to SCHOOL"
"Well, lets just change out of your jammies and put your clothes on, and then go potty, and you can go back to sleep in the car, okay?" (Believe it or not, this actually works 99% of the time, too. Even though by the time we get there he's wide awake.)
"Okay mommy. You carry me?"
"Sure, at least to the potty"
"You carry Duncan?"
"Fine....you ready to go?"
"Yles. I want to go to a reshuree"
"A What??"
"I wanna go to a reshuree"
(Blank stare)
(Blank stare back at me)
"Can you say it real slow??"
"Re.....shur......ee....."
Hmmm, no help there.
Suddenly, in one of those freak parenting moments where the lightbulb of absurdity starts shining in the darkness of your mind, I knew.
"You want to go to a restaurant?"
"Yles!!!!"
"Well, you're going to see your grandma tonight, maybe you can ask her"
"She'll say yes, mommy"
I laugh at that...he's right. "Okay then. Ready to go now?"
"Yles!"

More bug talk

Okay, for a bit of background, I'm a bit quirky when it comes to bugs, or animals in general. I believe in the "I'll respect you, you respect (or at least don't bite/sting) me" philosophy.

So, I'm trying to instill the same patience for our fellow creatures with Brent. And if you're a caterpillar or a cute squirrel, you're okay. If you happen to be an ant or a spider, say your prayers and beware the boys' size 10 shoe above you.

This morning he points to the roof of the car while we are riding. "There's a bug up there!!!," he says alarmingly. I look around as best I can considering I'm driving, but see nothing. He concedes that it's a "tiny bug, a tiny spider". "Okay," I say. "Since he's so tiny we should probably just leave him alone."

"No, we should kill him," Brent says.
"No, we shouldn't. Why would we do that?" I replied.
"Because he's a bad bug" he says.
"But you don't even know him" I countered.
"Only big people can kill bugs?" He asks. And I know because he's always saying how his teachers kill bugs outside.
"Well, no one really should kill them, unless they can hurt us. We should always try to leave them alone first, or ask an adult to move them for you."
"So....." he ponders this for a minute. "So what should we kill then?" he asks cheerfully, as if we have a quota to meet or something.
"How about nothing! We don't need to kill anything. If you kill something, it will be gone forever, and it won't be around anymore."
"Hmmmm....well maybe we can just fight them," he says.
"I'm not getting the impression you're going to follow your mom's peace loving ways, are you?..."
"Ummmm...what you say mommy?"
"Nevermind honey. Just don't kill bugs, okay?"
"OoooooKaaayyyy"

Update

The Snake has been fixed, and all is well. I think Brent was happy! Blurry maybe, but happy!

Awwww....

On the way to school this morning, Brent says "Mommy, do you know Britney?". "Yes," I replied. "She's a girl in your class, right? Do you like her?" "No," he said. "Well, who do you like then? Do you like Lucy?" "No, I just like you," he said sweetly.

I am SO going to remind him of that one day when he has girls lined up to date him, when he is so dazzled by the opposite sex that he might even forget his own mother's name. I will say "You know, I remember when 'I' used to be your favorite girl". And he'll scrunch up his nose and look away.

But I'll always remember for the both of us...

To clarify

Brent had a great time over the weekend. He's added a new partner to the stuffed animal brigade - Bobaloo the 4 foot yellow snake! Though I'm certainly lacking in making him part of the family. He sprouted a leak that threatened the very nature of his tiny styrofoam balls innards, and the last two nights I promised to sew it up, only to get busy and forget. Bad mommy.... Especially since the first words he said this morning weren't "good morning" or "hi mommy", but rather "WHERE'S MY SNAKE!!!!???". So, it's high priority tonight...no matter what housework needs done.

I missed my little guy for fireworks this year, but I managed to buy a few to set off this weekend if he stays up until dark. Hopefully I'll get some pictures as well.