The Kindness is Contagious

This is a continuation of yesterday's post - it may not make much sense out of context.

This morning, I went into Penelope's room to get her up for the day.  Ben followed me into her room and wished her a good morning with me.  As soon as Penelope saw Ben, she grabbed his book and handed it back to him!  All by herself, without anyone asking (and in one piece)!  Ben told her that she could keep it for three nights if she wanted to, but she wanted to give it back.  It sounds like maybe Penelope will just borrow a new one tonight.

What's gotten into my kids?

Where did he learn THAT?

I know I certainly didn't teach it to him.  Seriously, I have no idea where he got it, and he nearly made me cry.

On any given day in our house, you can generally hear the following snippet of conversation, or something like it:

Benjamin : "Penelope, can I have Lightning McQueen?"
Penelope : "No, is Mine!"
Benjamin : "No, it's MINE!"
Parent : "Ben, you were over here playing with these cards.  Let her play with the car, and then you can have a turn when she's done."
Benjamin : "But she has it and I want it!"
Penelope (losing interest in the car, dropping it on the ground) : "I play on the train tracks!"
Benjamin : "Pe-Ne-Lo-Peeee! *I* was going to play with the trains!"
Penelope : "MINE!"

That happens two, maybe three (hundred) times each day.  After a minute or two, they both settle down and start doing their own thing for a while, sometimes cooperating and playing together until the next big argument.   But just before bed tonight, something happened that I'd never witnessed before.

Mommy : Ok Penelope, go get the book you want for bed."
Benjamin : "Penelope, do you want one of my Magic Tree House books for bed?"
(note, these books are totally his, they have far too few pictures to keep here interested, and they are all kept in his room, generally off-limits to her for fear of the inevitable kid-plosion that would occur if she ever so much as glanced at one)
Penelope : "Mmmm... Yeah."
Benjamin (leading Penelope to his bookshelf) : "Ok, which one do you want? You can pick one."
Penelope : "Mmmmm..."
Benjamin (picking one for her)  "How about this one? Its a really good one."
Penelope : "Ok."
Benjamin : "But you have to give it back tomorrow, ok?"
Penelope (carrying the book into her room) : "Ok."

Holy crap!  Not only did he just share one of his most-prized possessions with his sister, it was his idea, and he lent it to her overnight!  Hopefully she's willing to give it back in the morning, and it is still in one piece.

A Couple of Yo-yos

Last week Ben started playing with a yo-yo that has been sitting idle in the toy box for a while.  He asked me for some help with it. One thing led to another, and before long I had one of my own yo-yos out, showing him some of the tricks I thought I'd forgotten.  For the next couple days, he was imitating those tricks - mostly swinging a dead yo-yo around on the string, but he's got a pretty good "drag the dog" going.

Coincidentally, some professional yo-yo players were out at Learning Express yesterday doing a demo (yes, there is such a thing as a pro yo-yoer, and if I had an ounce of their skill, I'd consider a career change).  Ben and I went there to watch.  I thought he would get a kick out of it, and he did.  But what surprised me is how much I enjoyed it too.

I was not prepared.  I thought we were going to see some guys doing all the string tricks that I was never able to master, maybe they'd do some fast looping stuff with two yo-yos, go under the legs, around the back, etc.  Then we'd be on our merry way, and the yo-yo fad would pass in a week.  

But somewhere in the time between the last yo-yo I purchased and now, technology and ingenuity caught up with this toy and I was caught unawares.  Free-spinning, ball-bearing axles were installed. Now you can sleep a yo-yo for several minutes instead of several seconds.  Someone decided to detach the finger end, and add a counterweight.  Now there's a thing to swing on both ends of the string.  Someone else decided that the yo-yo didn't need to be attached to the string at all.  Yes, really... Google "yo yo 4A".

The result is this spinning, twisting, bouncing, gravity-defying spindle of awesomeness. At least in the right hands.  I doubt I have the right hands for it, but I am inspired enough that I'm going to invest in a Flying Squirrel or an FH Zero and play some more.  Ben was inspired too.  Now his "tricks" involve two yo-yos and lots of interesting string pictures.  I fear a little for the walls, the light fixtures, and the younger sibling, but I think we'll be ok.

The Hot Dog Man

Bovine Anatomy 101

Ben's art continues to entertain, and sometimes even educate.  These are from a couple months ago, but I'm just now getting them posted.

Literally

Penelope's language skills seem to be improving every day.  Her speech is getting clearer.  She's putting together sentences and figuring out how to say a lot of things that she couldn't before.  I love this phase.. seeing them make these giant leaps of linguistic logic.  I say "them" because even though Ben is in a different place altogether, he is still doing his fair share of learning the language too.

Even though they are in totally different worlds, one thing they have in common - and I'm sure most little kids are the same - is that they can be incredibly literal.  Ben has started reading all the street signs in the car again, now that we're living in a new neighborhood and all the signs are different.  He read a sign in the car a few days ago, "Shoulder Dropoff... Mommy!  How do you take your shoulders off?  I can't even get my arms off!"

And then there's Penelope at a restaurant last weekend.  She had two plates near her: the one we had put her dinner on, and a plate full of rice.  She'd finished most of the food on her plate, and was taking rice from the rice plate and putting it on her own. Then she would take that same rice off her plate and eat it.  She was also spilling some of it on the table in the process, and making her standard two-year-old-in-a-restaurant mess. Stephanie told her "Oh Penelope - don't worry about putting that on your plate.  You can just eat the rice right from this plate."  Within a second, she was face down, eating rice directly from the plate.

All Part of the Deal

This is kind of an introspective post here.  No entertaining stories about the kids.  Fair warning.

I think I have decided that one of my least favorite experiences in this world is when the kids get sick.  I think its got to be that way for most parents. And really, we've had it good.  Our kids don't get sick that often and when they do, its usually been a minor thing. We've been really lucky.  But when they do get sick, it is difficult.

It isn't the taking care of them part that's difficult though.  What I mean by that is that it isn't the sleepless nights, trying to console them every 30-60 minutes when they can't sleep comfortably.  It isn't the puking, or the cleaning up the puke, or being in the direct line of fire of the puke, or any of the other nasty stuff that requires a change of clothing, cleaning supplies, and/or a load of laundry.  It isn't cancelling plans or rearranging priorities or any of that stuff either.

The hard part is the heart-wrenching helplessness.  Having to watch them suffer, being unable to make it any better, and often times not even knowing where it hurts.  Occasionally, there's a bit of fear mixed in there as well, depending on the circumstances.

The interesting thing to me is that after the fact, nobody talks so much about the difficult part, even though that's really the big deal.  Sometimes the stories are about how disgusting (or funny, in retrospect) the situation was, or how inconvenienced everyone was by the whole thing because it happened when and where it happened.  I guess it is because the easy part just makes for better TV?  Its all about how much of what substance suddenly appeared, how far it traveled, and where it landed.  Whereas the hard part is always a small variation on "Furrowed brow.  Frowny face.  Lip bite. Tear.  Frownier face."

New Stuff

I've received a couple of complaints about this blog recently.  Not because of any objectionable content, but because it lacks any new content.  I apologize.  We've been pretty busy since my last entry, buying a new house and getting ready to sell the one we're currently in.  I've started three different posts that I didn't finish, and I'll get around to those pretty soon.  I think.  The dust is settling.  We're all closed on the new house, so there's only finalizing the sale of this one (and moving a lot of stuff) to go.

Ben got to go explore a bit in the new house on Sunday while Stephanie was doing the final walk-through, and I asked him if he could describe the new house to me while I was taking him to school Monday morning. The first words out of his mouth were...

Ben : It's got a LOT of light switches!  Twenty, I think!

I was told that he had to test each and every one of them, but I think he may have lost count.

Daddy : Yeah?

Ben : Yeah!  But some of them don't do anything.  And some of them are for fans.

Daddy : That's pretty cool.  Did you get to see your new room?

Ben : Yeah, and it has purple walls!  But purple isn't my favorite color any more.  Its dark blue now.  So we should paint my room.

Good!  Dark blue will be easier to paint over dark purple than say.. yellow.  His "favorite color" changes about once a week, and is defined as whatever his Wii Fit character is wearing. (I can hear him in the back of my head correcting me right now - "No Daddy, it's Wii Fit PLUS.")  We're only painting his room the one time, though, so he's going to have to pick a favorite color and stick with it for a while.


Daddy : You want to paint it dark blue?

Ben : Yes!  Or maybe green.

Uh-oh.

And then on Monday, after closing, we took Penelope over to see it (ok, maybe we both wanted to look around a bit too.. measure some walls to know if furniture is going to fit, start cleaning, etc.)  Penelope had a great time.  She found several doors, and closed them all.  That doesn't sound like much, but its one of her favorite things to do.  Of course one of her other favorite things lead to a little bit of heartbreak.  She looooves swings.  And we can clearly see the neighbor's swing set from the kitchen windows.  When she noticed that, it was like nothing else in the world existed.  She just stuck herself to the window - "Want swing! Want swing!"  So there's at least one purchase for the not-too-distant future (curtains, not a swing set - sorry Sweetie!  We'll go to the park soon, I promise!)

So as I said above, the dust is settling.  More to come.

Hour of the Olympics

Ben has been really into this "Magic Treehouse" series of books lately.  It is usually what he wants to read before bed, and we've gone through a lot of them in the past few months.

For two nights now, we have been reading the latest one from the library, titled "Hour of the Olympics".  Its about ancient Greece.  Ben insists that the title is actually pronounced "Whore of the Olympics".  He's made a point to correct me both nights.  I have tried to set the record straight, but he's not budging on this one.

On the one hand its funny because he's so innocent.  That and I'm essentially still 12 when it comes to certain types of humor.  I will laugh at some pretty juvenile, and sometimes offensive things.  I should be embarrassed or apologetic or something about it, but I'm not.

On the other hand, this isn't the first time he's brought up whores.  It almost makes me think I should be concerned about something (about what, I am not sure).  Maybe six(?) months ago we were playing a rhyming game, which is always a recipe for disaster.  I know I can't remember the conversation verbatim, but it went something like:

Ben : "Daddy, what rhymes with door?"
Daddy : "Floor"
Ben : "And more!"
Daddy : "Yes, and... core"
Ben : "And whore!"  Followed by a laugh, and then, "Whore is a funny word!"

I didn't tell him that many people would disagree.  My inner 12-year-old was too busy rolling around on the floor.

Some Quotes

I haven't sat down and written anything here in the past few weeks, but I have been collecting quotes.  Here's a few from Ben:

"Oooh look!  That cloud is shaped like a tornado!" - He said this while we were driving in the car one day, in-between street sign announcements.  At first it was hard to share his enthusiasm, as we were looking for the "cloud" he was talking about.  After all, Austin is not exactly tornado alley, but they aren't unheard of here.  It turned out to be a jet trail that had fallen pretty low.

"The toilet is like a water slide for pee!" - I mentioned in an early post that Ben is really talkative while he's in the bathroom.  Any bathroom.  This one comes from the bathroom at Schlitterbahn after our company picnic, and it was followed by a chuckle from someone in the next stall.

"Yeah, I have a quiet time... but I don't really know what to do with it." - Our babysitter on Friday night told us that this is one of the things he said to her while we were out.  He was probably telling her this at the very same moment that we were telling a group of friends that Ben's "quiet time" is one of the loudest parts of his day.  He sings, dances, jumps around, has conversations with his stuffed animals... none of which is in the least bit quiet.

I've even got one quote from Penelope, which turned up on my voicemail at work on Monday:

"Ipeepeedapotty."  -  Loosely translated, this means "Father, I have some exciting news for you.  I am no longer deathly afraid of the special toilet seat with that willy-nilly silly old bear on it.  In fact, I quite like it.  Please ensure that it is made available to me whenever I may request it.  Thank you."

Tuesday's Art Exhibit

Benjamin is quite the prolific artist.  He works in a variety of media, from crayons to markers and watercolor paint. Drawing inspiration from books, his own experiences and quite frankly sometimes I have no idea where, he prefers to dedicate most of his artwork to the people in his life.  Today's exhibit is a collection of portraits in washable marker on paper.  Enjoy.

STAGASORRES and T-REX
These were commissioned as a matched pair for Polar-Bear and Pollyball, two of the artist's plush friends.

 

The statement behind these two is clear.  Herbivore or carnivore, black or blue, a hyphenated name or no, we're all just dinosaurs with exaggerated features in the end. 

PIRET

Piret is the only work at the exhibit signed by the artist himself, and not intended as a gift for a friend or loved one.  The style is also markedly different from the other works, making use of graphic novel devices to convey the subject's speech and thoughts.

ALELA WAS FLYING
This piece is the most playful and mysterious in the collection.  Who is this Alela?  Is she a fairy, or simply a girl in costume? Why is she near the number 6?  Even the intended recipient is not clear - is it for his sister, or a stuffed animal who happens to share her name?

Detail from Alela

What secret is hiding behind her smile?

 ONE DAY A NINJA WAS MOVEING

The jewel of the exhibit is most certainly this sullen, slightly overweight ninja.  Intended as a gift for his best friend, Doggie, it is yet another piece of social commentary from this budding artist.  Everybody wants to be a ninja, but not everybody can.  Being a ninja takes hard work and dedication.  So if you're serious about being a ninja, put down the Fritos and move.

Navigation and Music

Car rides are entertaining.  Bordering on exasperating, but still entertaining.

Ben's "new" obsession is street signs, and what road we're on.  I use the term "new" loosely - this started a number of weeks ago.  At first, he was just interested in knowing what road we were on, and he started reading the signs when we'd take a turn and announcing it to the car, "We're on Abilene!"

But we weren't taking enough turns to keep him occupied.  So he began reading the street signs as we'd pass by them, "There's Oasis!".  At higher speeds this leads to some interesting mis-reads.  My personal favorites are "Robot Diction", which would make for an excellent band name, and "Shh! Seventy-One!" which could be the title track off their first album (those are "Robert Dixon" and "SH 71" respectively, for the curious).

He's taken it to a new level recently, since he's now memorized all the streets near our house, and knows the common paths to and fro.  He's a full-fledged BPS (Benjamin Positioning System).  Now, he tells us where to go.  "No Mommy!  Go straight on William Cannon, THEN turn left on Escarpment!"  And while we're discussing that road, he's also heavily into the "Why?" phase of his life, and William Cannon is a source of endless debate.

"Why does it say double-u emm, instead of William?"
"Because it is shorter."
"Why is it shorter?"
"So they could fit it on the sign."
"Why is it on the sign?"
And on, and on, and on...

He knows which roads do and do not have an outlet, and makes a distinction between the "Abilene with no outlet" and the "Abilene with an outlet".  The first time he started talking about the "Abilene with no outlet", I just kind of said "Silly boy, of course Abilene has an outlet!" and dismissed him with a pat on the head.   I should have known better than to question him.  If he says something is so, then it is so.  The next day, we're riding in the car and he points and says "Daddy look!  Abilene with No Outlet!"  He was pointing at the sign for Abilene Cove, a cul-de-sac I have probably run or driven past several hundred times, but apparently never noticed.  And yes, it has no outlet.

As the BPS is busy rattling off the streets we're passing and asking why some roads have two names, from the other side of the car comes music.  Over there, we've installed a radio with Penelophonic sound.  About half of the time, she is tuned to some station that just plays the alphabet song, sometimes in its entirety and sometimes just a small portion over and over again.  The program director there is kind of unpredictable, even if we do hear a lot of the same stuff.  She's been known to spin Old Macdonald and Twinkle, Twinkle as well (which sounds suspiciously like the alphabet song).  Occasionally, we'll get a long bout of babbling talk radio from some host who is overly concerned with their shoes.  And the commercials, while at regular intervals, don't appear to be selling anything.  They just come on and request water and a snack.  Peas.

Little Miss Manners

Penelope is very polite.  If she is asking for something, she'll almost always use her version of "please" (which sounds a lot like "peas").  If you give her what she asked for, you'll get a "tankoo."  If someone sneezes she says "beshoo!"  If she does something that isn't very ladylike, she'll say "eshoome."  Well... that last one isn't entirely true. The only indications that she's loading her diaper are a slight squat, then a vacant stare and a tiny grunt. But in general, gases from either end are acknowledged according to the rules of etiquette.

I am told that yesterday she sneezed, and Mommy said "bless you." Penelope responded with "tankoo."  Then there was a pause, and she said "Tankoo" again.  Another pause, and then she said it again. She kept repeating it, and getting more insistent each time.  "Tank Ooo!"  "TANKOOO!".  Finally, Mommy said, "You're welcome."

Penelope nodded and then went about her business.

Language

One of the things that I find most fascinating and entertaining about watching my kids grow is seeing them develop their language skills.  Don't get me wrong - there's plenty of fun to be had in watching them start to roll over or crawl or walk.  But for me personally, the language is up near the top of the list (when they become teenagers, I suspect I'll have the opposite opinion of their language.)

What do I find so fascinating and entertaining?  It is hard to say (pun not intended, but appreciated).  It changes from one day to the next as they grow.

Penelope is at that wonderful age where she has a very large vocabulary and loves to talk. She understands most of what we say, but only a few people here on Earth can actually understand even half the things that she says.  Neither of my kids took to the sign language thing very well, so communication with her at this stage can sometimes be a challenge.  Some of her words are very clear to anyone who speaks English - "No", "Yes", "Mommy", and "Daddy" being at the top of that list.   But there's a longer list of words that you need some kind of translation dictionary to comprehend.  When Ben was this age, I made a Ben-to-English dictionary for the visiting grandparents so they'd have a fighting chance.  Unfortunately, it was only useful for Ben translations, and has little bearing on the language of Penelope.  Milk for example, was radically different.  To Ben, it was "guk", and Penelope prefers "mao".

If you spend enough time with her, you can learn to understand the common requests, but still sometimes have to guess at what she's saying until you get an "mmm-hmmm" or, if it takes a while, an exasperated "Yes!".  Until you hear it several times, it is difficult to know that "meeno" is "flamingo", and "aminah" means "open up".  And just to mix things up a bit, she'll throw in a homonym every once in a while.  "Eyes" could be exactly what it sounds like, "eyes".  Or, it could mean an entirely new word - "sunglasses".  There's certainly some logic behind that one.

Even with the communication issues, I love listening to her talk.  My favorite word is currently "ooouge" (rhymes with rouge).  That's her word for "orange". With Ben, my favorites were "beige" (maybe I just like the way they say that "zh" sound), and "yebun", which meant "seven".

Of course, Ben no longer says "yebun" - he's old enough to communicate more clearly now.  The language development is really no less fascinating though, just for different reasons.  Most of the time, I simply enjoy the little glimpses into how his brain works.  At other times, talking with him makes me realize how odd some parts of language are.  It has led to a few interesting Google searches on linguistics and etymology.  Ordinal numbers are the latest little language quirk that he got me wondering about, just by using the word "seventy-oneth".   How do you get first from one and second from two?  And while we're on numbers in general, what is up with eleven and twelve?

Questionable lineage

This morning Ben and I had one of our heartfelt discussions about whatever happens to be on Ben's mind at the time.  Today it was sports.  He was drawing pictures related to tennis on a magna-doodle.  Then he erased it, drew some baseball stuff, and erased that too.

Ben : Daddy, what sport should I draw next?

Daddy : Well, there's running.

Ben : No, running is not a sport. 

(What?  Who are you?  Did you just call me Daddy?  Please return my son.  Oh.. you must mean "Running is not a sport", as in "Running is the sport")

Daddy : Well, it is Daddy's sport.

Ben : No it isn't.

Daddy : Well then, I don't know.  Football?

Ben : No, football isn't a sport either.  

(Ok, perhaps we are related)

Daddy : Ok, what are my choices?

Ben : There's tennis, baseball, golf, bowling and boxing.  Those are the sports.

Ah yes, the Wii Sports.  I should have known.

Mental note : Don't tell him your password

I wonder at what age kids can keep secrets.  At least for Ben, it isn't four.  This post was originally going to be just about this morning's "Donuts for Dad" get together at Ben's school.  It was an early Father's Day celebration, since we dads normally get shafted on the school parties (moms have it good because Mother's Day falls within the school year).

For the past couple weeks, Ben has been singing various "Dad" songs.  I knew this event was coming up, and putting two and two together (four! - complete coincidence), I decided these were the "secret" songs that they were going to perform for us.  Its never much of a secret, but it was a good time. They all wore homemade paper neck ties, and sang their songs for us.  Then we ate doughnuts and had coffee (well, I had coffee - he had water).

But the secret spilling wasn't over yet. I met my family at a restaurant tonight for dinner.  When I got there, it was a table for six, and I was told we were "expecting some guests", without being told who they might be.  While I am sitting there wrenching my brain for who the secret guests are (and trying to figure out what I am going to eat), Ben says "Mommy... why isn't Rich coming into the restaurant?"

My response was to look at Stephanie, "Rich?  You mean..." trying to figure out if I know more than just one Rich, "As in.... The Rich?"  The Rich would be a good friend and roommate from college.  He currently resides in California, and I hadn't seen him in something like 5 or 6 years, until tonight.  He and his girlfriend are here until Monday - a birthday surprise!  I don't mind that Ben tipped me off a few minutes early.  Its all good.

Drool's Away!

I seem to play a lot of little games with my kids that involve using them as free weights.  And quite often these games take the form of me lying on my back, lifting one of them with my legs or the other with my arms (and sometimes both at the same time, though that gets a little challenging).

You would think I'd learn by now that this is a recipe for drool in the face.  I haven't.

Tonight I did a few Penelope presses, and then moved on to a game I like to call "ahhbwah-bwahbwah".  This is a game that is played lying flat on your back with the child held above you at arm's length, and it requires some minimal participation on their part.  Their one duty is to say "Ahhhhh".  As soon as they comply, you jiggle them quickly (think driving over a cattle guard at 5 mph kind of jiggle).  This turns "ahhhh" into "ahhbwahbwahwbahbwah.." until they start giggling. Giggle = no jiggle.  Then you start over again when they say "Ahhhh".

Disclaimer : You must never shake a baby. But jiggling a toddler is loads of fun. Trust me, its hilarious.

So anyway, we're halfway through one round of ahhbwah-bwahbwah, and here comes the drool bomb.  I don't know why I'm never expecting it, but it catches me off guard every single time.  It always comes in slow motion too, but I'm rarely fast enough to avoid it completely.  Tonight, I took it on the cheek (that's one of the better options, if you don't manage to dodge quick enough).

Something about my facial expression must have deeply amused my daughter, because she laughed pretty hard.  And then, she started trying to drool on me!  She was blowing little drool bubbles and aiming for me!  Needless to say, the ahhbwah-bwahbwah game was called on account of rain.  It will be rescheduled as soon as I forget the outcome.

Nigh-nigh Emmo

Penelope loves Elmo.  In books, and on TV anyhow.  She's terrified of this tickle-me-elmo robot doll thing that we have (and with good reason).  We used to keep it upstairs in the game room, but she would get upset and leave the room every time she noticed him up there, staring at her.  So we moved him to the office, a room we'd rather she stays out of anyhow.  So far it has been a pretty good deterrent.

The funny thing is, even though she is scared of the thing, she says goodnight to him and waves at the office door every night while she's making her rounds.  Of course, she says goodnight to everyone and everything else on the way too, in her haste to go read a book and go to sleep.  Nigh-nigh Mommy nigh-nigh Men (Ben) nigh-nigh tabbo (table) nigh-nigh Emmo!

Why the title?

If you haven't heard the story already (which most anyone reading this has), I owe the title of this page to my son. I wrote this story down at the beginning of November, and enough people enjoyed it I thought I should give it a home here.

---

Rhymes With Bucket

So here's the setup :

Ben is fascinated with words, and he loves books. In the past few months, he has started "sight reading" words that he already knows, and he can read many of his favorite books to himself. More recently, he has started actually sounding out words he does not know. He loves to spell things out using the alphabet magnets on the fridge.

And the story :

A few days ago at Ben's request (I think), Stephanie used the fridge magnets to spell the word BUCKET. In the space between then and now, the letters were rearranged, and the word was all but forgotten. After dinner this evening, Ben went to the fridge, and spelled BUKCET, then announced his word to us, "Bucket!".

Stephanie helped him get the c and the k in the right order. Then, he started playing a game that he plays very often with these magnets. He pulled off the first letter, and replaced it. Now the word on the fridge is : FUCKET.

"What does that word say, Daddy?" he asked me. My eyes widened, and I looked over at Stephanie, who was also wide-eyed, looking right back at me. I used my standard response for when he puts something up there that is just gibberish, "Silly, that isn't really a word!"

At this point, when he's told that something isn't a word, he will go down one of two paths. 75% of the time, he moves on, tries a different combination of letters, and asks the question again. This was one of the other times.

"Yes it is!", he said, and then he paused...

I don't have enough space to fully detail the wordless conversation that happened in the next three seconds between Stephanie and I, but I will summarize it below:

Me : He's about to say what's there on the fridge..

Stephanie : I know!

Me: This isn't like GRIBLDNG.. that's going to sound like...

Stephanie : I know!!

Me : What do we do?

Stephanie : Well, we can't stop him.. if we make a big deal out if it...

Me : I know!!! Are you ready to hear your little boy say that?

Stephanie : We don't have much choice, do we? Are you?

Me : But... it's just.. I don't think my Mom has ever even heard ME say that...

Stephanie : I know!!!!

And so on. Eventually, our three seconds were up, and Ben continued, sounding it out, "It says Ffff... Uh.... Ket. Fuh... Ket. FUCKET!" He turned to us, beaming with pride, and pointed at it. Then once more, "FUCKET!".

Neither of us could speak. I simply tried to keep my face straight and nodded at him, then he turned back to the fridge. We both spent the next eternity trying very hard not to laugh out loud, and mostly succeeding. When I cleared the tears from my eyes and looked back at the fridge, he was replacing the F with a P. PUCKET. "Daddy, what does that word say?"

"Well Ben, I don't think that's really a word." I said (I actually wasn't sure - just checked, it isn't). He turned back, didn't say anything, and started over with TIE.

I am so proud of my little boy.

Things my children do and say

If you're anything like me, you have two small children. And if you have small children or spend any amount of time near small children, then you already know why I decided to start writing this, and I don't have to explain much here. They're awesome! The things they do, and the things they say... its hard to find a word other than awesome.

Honestly, I have been thinking about writing those things down for quite some time, but I just keep putting it off. Why? Mainly because there's sooooo many people out there already writing about their kids. Who wants to read all of that stuff? Yeah, kids are funny. Bill Cosby did a show about it. Move on. That's been my knee-jerk reaction to the idea until recently, when I realized that the answer has changed.

Who wants to read all that stuff? The grandparents want to. The aunts and uncles want to. A few friends here and there want to. And I want to read it too. Not now, but two years, four years, ten years from now, I want to remember the day my son Benjamin used the toilet for the first time. His surprised exclamation of "Makes noisy!" He's four now, and is still extremely talkative on the can. I wouldn't be at all surprised if half of what I end up writing here is quotes from Ben while he's taking care of business. I want to remember that Penelope's current favorite pastime is putting on whatever shoes or boots she can find and walking around the house in them. She's 20 months old, so it's about 50/50 whether they are on the correct foot or not, but she always manages to at least get them going the right direction. And who knows.. maybe some day they'll want to read all that stuff too. That would be cool. Then again, maybe they'll be completely embarrassed by it. That might be cool too, but only in the proper context.

But I'm going to write it down. I'll do my best to make it readable, and perhaps even spend enough time to make things entertaining to people who aren't related to my kids. But I make no guarantees, and I reserve the right to be selfish and just remove the thing from public view altogether. If I don't know you but you find this stuff interesting, then be my guest (for now).