I really love watching the dynamic of the two older boys as they get older and develop their own personalities. Ethan is very head strong but very sensitive to how others think and feel. He pushes the boundaries (he is only four mind you) but he is much more exploratory about it. Kind of like "Just how far can I push my mom before her head explodes" Not in a mean way but purely scientific. Caleb is pretty much the opposite. He has a great sense of humor and timing and really is pretty funny but his motivations are not nearly as cerebral as Ethan's are. It is more like "If I keep screaming like this Mom's head will explode. This will be awesome!"
The only thing that really comforts me is that they do it to other people as well....not just me. Ethan has become Caleb's favorite target as of late. He has figured out that if he just says the opposite of whatever Ethan says whether its true or not, Ethan will get irate and apparently that is really funny. Now here is where I have to actually take some of the blame for that. For a long time David and I have talked about how Ethan is much more like him emotionally and mentally and Caleb is like me. Ethan needs to have things exact and specific. Caleb just wants to have fun and get messy. Like I said, David and I have produced clones of ourselves. That being said..... it really is kind of funny when Caleb gets under Ethan's skin. Its very likely that if it is Ethan doing something to Caleb, it will drive me nuts but if Caleb's bugging Ethan, I have a bad habit of laughing. I'm an evil mom, I know, but Caleb just bugs Ethan in a way that is funny. Ok, starting to really look like a bad mom.
Ethan and I were playing his version of 20 questions which mainly consists of him asking about 20 thousand random questions that in no way are going to lead him to the conclusion of "what am I thinking of" He asked me something that was like
"Mom have you ever fallen out of a plane and splatted on the water?"
"No, I have not"
"Yeah, me neither"
CALEB: "I have"
ETHAN: "No you have not"
CALEB: "Yes I have"
ETHAN: "No you have not, because if you did you would have died and you are not dead so you have never fallen out of a plane" Very content look of satisfactorily winning the argument on his face
CALEB:"Yes I did, and then I walked home"
ETHAN: "Caleb, that is not true and its a lie and we don't lie in our family! Tell the truth and say you are sorry!"
CALEB: "It's true. I fall out of plane and land on the ground and I no die. I walk home and mom make me food"
At this point Ethan's head is the one that looks like it is going to explode. He cannot figure out how he can get Caleb to admit that he in fact did not fall out of a plane and magically walk home to breakfast. He looks at me and just starts crying. When I ask him what is going on, he says histarically
"Mom, Caleb thinks that he fell out of a plane and then got up and walked away and that is just not true. No one can do that because they would die and Caleb did not die so he couldn't have done that! Tell him that, that its not true and to say sorry for lying to me!"
Of course I want to support telling the truth and I don't want to take Ethan's feelings lightly but I am having a really hard time not laughing because this is totally the type of prank I would pull on my siblings and it might very well be morbid but I think its kind of funny.
ME:"Caleb, its not very nice to bug your brother. Saying that you fell out of a plane and splatted on the water and then walked home is really upsetting to him. Do you want to think about your story and maybe that it is not true?"
Caleb starts laughing and points at Ethan and talking about how he tricked him and "it so funny" Ethan gets really pissed and runs off to his room screaming something about "CALEB!"....... "NOT FUNNY".......... "BAD, BAD LIAR!" ........."DID NOT SPLATT!"
Caleb is still just muttering and chuckling to himself as he plays with some toys on the floor. My mind drifts off and I have a little day dream of a five year old David and a 3 year old Olivia playing in a toy room. Its not long before 5 year old David runs off yelling "I'm going to go tell my mom what you just said!!" and 3 year old Olivia continues to build her block castle and a sick little smile on her face.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
I am beginning to see a trend
Why there have been several posts lately pertaining to bodily functions and excretions, I am not sure. Its most likely due to the fact that I am surrounded on a daily basis by boys and it is genetically encoded in their DNA to be fascinated by such things. I'm still trying to figure out why I find it so funny but that seems to be a separate issue. So the trends I am seeing here are as follows. 1) my boys are very comfortable with farting and pooping and anything of the like and 2) I apparently spend way too much time in the bathroom where a whole lot of my stories are starting to come from.
I was yet again in the bathroom and I have started to find myself pretty frustrated that the boys have gotten themselves in sync with my potty time. Every flippin time I have to go to the bathroom they run in there demanding that I hurry and finish because they have to go. Me being the good mother that I am and more importantly than that don't want to have to clean up their mess hurry and get off so they can go. But you know what? I need my toilet time too. Whether I need it or not I should feel more than comfortable to take a minute or five to just sit there. Guys get their good 20 minutes in the morning, I am lucky if I get 20 minutes in a week. So I decided that the next one to come in declaring I be de-throned, I was going to politely decline and ask them to wait for me to be finished. Now I was not going to be excessively mean or anything and cause a scene because remember... I have to be the one to clean it up, but just long enough to hopefully start instilling in their heads that this was just not going to be tolerated anymore. It just had to be Caleb. The one I was a bit more concerned with making a scene anyway. I had just sat down to pee when he ran in, naked as a jay bird, saying.... something.... well, actually I am not sure what he said. I can't understand him most days and then he had this stuffed up nose which made his indiscernible garble all nasally, anyway I got the hint he needed to go and I told him to wait. He did actually pretty good until he "F"- worded (remember, we don't use that word) So I said,
"Excuse me, what do you say?" and sure enough without missing a beat and looking as though it were completely my fault that the squirrels in his butt started barking,
"See I told you I have to go, now you get off the potty?!"
Fine, whatever. But I will remember this when I am like 90 and having disturbing issues in my undergarments that my children will just have to deal with. Personally I am hoping I just roll over and die before I get to the point where I am crapping my own pants, but if I don't.... well, they are going to wish they had respected my bathroom time a little better because I don't care if you are Mother freaking Theresa.... ain't nobody want to clean up their poopy mom.
I was yet again in the bathroom and I have started to find myself pretty frustrated that the boys have gotten themselves in sync with my potty time. Every flippin time I have to go to the bathroom they run in there demanding that I hurry and finish because they have to go. Me being the good mother that I am and more importantly than that don't want to have to clean up their mess hurry and get off so they can go. But you know what? I need my toilet time too. Whether I need it or not I should feel more than comfortable to take a minute or five to just sit there. Guys get their good 20 minutes in the morning, I am lucky if I get 20 minutes in a week. So I decided that the next one to come in declaring I be de-throned, I was going to politely decline and ask them to wait for me to be finished. Now I was not going to be excessively mean or anything and cause a scene because remember... I have to be the one to clean it up, but just long enough to hopefully start instilling in their heads that this was just not going to be tolerated anymore. It just had to be Caleb. The one I was a bit more concerned with making a scene anyway. I had just sat down to pee when he ran in, naked as a jay bird, saying.... something.... well, actually I am not sure what he said. I can't understand him most days and then he had this stuffed up nose which made his indiscernible garble all nasally, anyway I got the hint he needed to go and I told him to wait. He did actually pretty good until he "F"- worded (remember, we don't use that word) So I said,
"Excuse me, what do you say?" and sure enough without missing a beat and looking as though it were completely my fault that the squirrels in his butt started barking,
"See I told you I have to go, now you get off the potty?!"
Fine, whatever. But I will remember this when I am like 90 and having disturbing issues in my undergarments that my children will just have to deal with. Personally I am hoping I just roll over and die before I get to the point where I am crapping my own pants, but if I don't.... well, they are going to wish they had respected my bathroom time a little better because I don't care if you are Mother freaking Theresa.... ain't nobody want to clean up their poopy mom.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Someone please tell me I'm not alone
I know that all kids are smart and creative and yady yady, but I feel like I am getting a bit out of my league here. I blame it on their father. I'm not sure exactly when my 4 year old turned 40 but this morning was the first time that I realized just how far out to sea I am.
Ethan has a really bad habit of biting his nails. I mean really bad. To the point I am getting a bit concerned he might permanently ruin his nails because he bites them beyond the quick. It kinda makes me sick actually. So David put the gauntlet down last night and said "No more. This is not something we are going to do anymore. If you need your nails trimmed than ask Mommy, but you will not bite your nails anymore" I was completely convinced. I stopped biting my nails right then and there and have been 12 hours sober since. I thought for sure that it would work for Ethan too. So this morning, I was sitting on the toilet thinking I might get 30 seconds to pee by myself if I was really quiet, when the siren rang out alerting the troops that I was "occupied" and my fan club came to cheer me on. Ethan put his hands up to his mouth and I said "No sir. we are not doing that anymore, remember?" That is when he looked at me and said
"Mom, don't worry about me ok? I'm almost 5 and I'm a big boy. I'm not a little baby. You don't wipe my butt anymore and I brush my own teeth so I got this. What are you going to do when I go to kindergarten? You can still tie my shoes because I can't yet, but you don't have to worry about me ok?"
Then of course the peanut gallery pipes in with
"Yeah mom, he big boy. Leave him 'lone, k? Please you be done so I go poo now"
Ok, so first off, what the crap does he mean by that "I got this". You are 4 and I am your mother so I tell you what you got. And secondly, so not fair! Not only didn't he just write me off because you know, "He's a big boy" but he had a wing man! I know I should be proud that my boys are looking out for each other but there should be some exclusion clause or something that makes it against the law to gang up on your mother. Especially when she is trying to pee! I think I need to start searching out other mothers that are completely outnumbered by their toddlers and start and abuse support group or something. I'm grateful for my smart, articulate and independent children. I would hate to have stupid, clingy kids who still want me to wash out their skid marks at age 35 but can't I have some ramp up time or something????
Ethan has a really bad habit of biting his nails. I mean really bad. To the point I am getting a bit concerned he might permanently ruin his nails because he bites them beyond the quick. It kinda makes me sick actually. So David put the gauntlet down last night and said "No more. This is not something we are going to do anymore. If you need your nails trimmed than ask Mommy, but you will not bite your nails anymore" I was completely convinced. I stopped biting my nails right then and there and have been 12 hours sober since. I thought for sure that it would work for Ethan too. So this morning, I was sitting on the toilet thinking I might get 30 seconds to pee by myself if I was really quiet, when the siren rang out alerting the troops that I was "occupied" and my fan club came to cheer me on. Ethan put his hands up to his mouth and I said "No sir. we are not doing that anymore, remember?" That is when he looked at me and said
"Mom, don't worry about me ok? I'm almost 5 and I'm a big boy. I'm not a little baby. You don't wipe my butt anymore and I brush my own teeth so I got this. What are you going to do when I go to kindergarten? You can still tie my shoes because I can't yet, but you don't have to worry about me ok?"
Then of course the peanut gallery pipes in with
"Yeah mom, he big boy. Leave him 'lone, k? Please you be done so I go poo now"
Ok, so first off, what the crap does he mean by that "I got this". You are 4 and I am your mother so I tell you what you got. And secondly, so not fair! Not only didn't he just write me off because you know, "He's a big boy" but he had a wing man! I know I should be proud that my boys are looking out for each other but there should be some exclusion clause or something that makes it against the law to gang up on your mother. Especially when she is trying to pee! I think I need to start searching out other mothers that are completely outnumbered by their toddlers and start and abuse support group or something. I'm grateful for my smart, articulate and independent children. I would hate to have stupid, clingy kids who still want me to wash out their skid marks at age 35 but can't I have some ramp up time or something????
Monday, January 24, 2011
Whoever names it, claims it
It's been a while. Sorry. It's not that my boys have been uncharacteristically funny its just that I have been tired. The holidays seemed to have worn me out. That being said this was just too funny not to jot down.
They had been sitting at the table eating their afternoon snack when apparently last nights round of tacos and burritos decided to grace us again with its presence via route Ethan's behind. David hates hearing the "f" word out of children's mouths (can you blame him?) so we have told the children to use the word "stinky" I know, I know... lame, but the alternatives are worse. I would probably roll over laughing every time my kids used "poof" or "bum puff" or whatever. That being said, Ethan farted! This was no stinky. I mean like pretty much man fart and I got to be honest it scared me a little. I expected to turn around and see a full sized man or at least a 5 foot troll standing where my tiny little offspring sat. I was so startled by said eruption that I nearly screamed out "Who on earth was that" Ethan is my little shy boy when it comes to being embarrassed. He also knew that its totally fine and everyone does it, but one must excuse himself. We may not be able to control our bodies expelling gases but we are not barbarians. The ability to beg one's pardon is what separates us from the animals. So he sheepishly apologized and said "it was me" Caleb sitting next to him and out of no where says very defiantly "No, it was me" Ethan looking just as confused as to where that came from as me says "No.... it was me"
"Nope! It was me. I stinkied"
"No Caleb! It was me"
Of course this turned into a little game and they bantered back and forth a few times until Caleb apparently having picked up on the art of intimidation by making oneself larger (this one he must have picked up from the nature shows we have watched... you know the ones with the bobbing birds and who has the biggest breast gets the ladies) stands up on the kitchen table bench and in the deepest, loudest and most growling monster voice the kid could muster yells in Ethan's face "NO! IT WAS ME!!!!"
Poor Ethan, sensing that there was really no way out of this, says "Fine, whatever....it was you", looks at me with a look that could not have said more clearly if he has said it aloud "what the crap is with him" and heads into the play room to play with his trains. Caleb, clearly very proud of himself, sits back down to finish the rest of his snack. I proceed promptly to the computer.
They had been sitting at the table eating their afternoon snack when apparently last nights round of tacos and burritos decided to grace us again with its presence via route Ethan's behind. David hates hearing the "f" word out of children's mouths (can you blame him?) so we have told the children to use the word "stinky" I know, I know... lame, but the alternatives are worse. I would probably roll over laughing every time my kids used "poof" or "bum puff" or whatever. That being said, Ethan farted! This was no stinky. I mean like pretty much man fart and I got to be honest it scared me a little. I expected to turn around and see a full sized man or at least a 5 foot troll standing where my tiny little offspring sat. I was so startled by said eruption that I nearly screamed out "Who on earth was that" Ethan is my little shy boy when it comes to being embarrassed. He also knew that its totally fine and everyone does it, but one must excuse himself. We may not be able to control our bodies expelling gases but we are not barbarians. The ability to beg one's pardon is what separates us from the animals. So he sheepishly apologized and said "it was me" Caleb sitting next to him and out of no where says very defiantly "No, it was me" Ethan looking just as confused as to where that came from as me says "No.... it was me"
"Nope! It was me. I stinkied"
"No Caleb! It was me"
Of course this turned into a little game and they bantered back and forth a few times until Caleb apparently having picked up on the art of intimidation by making oneself larger (this one he must have picked up from the nature shows we have watched... you know the ones with the bobbing birds and who has the biggest breast gets the ladies) stands up on the kitchen table bench and in the deepest, loudest and most growling monster voice the kid could muster yells in Ethan's face "NO! IT WAS ME!!!!"
Poor Ethan, sensing that there was really no way out of this, says "Fine, whatever....it was you", looks at me with a look that could not have said more clearly if he has said it aloud "what the crap is with him" and heads into the play room to play with his trains. Caleb, clearly very proud of himself, sits back down to finish the rest of his snack. I proceed promptly to the computer.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Just call me Mr. Grinch
I had been trying really hard to have a good holiday spirit and make the season bright for Juan and Paco (seasonal call signs for Ethan and Caleb) and not be like uber monster mom from hades. Probably could have done better but due to said holiday season I had eaten Caleb's weight in candies and goodies and was in sugar toxic overload and kind of crabby. Also Project Big Daddy (David's seasonal call sign) and I had spent like 3 nights in a row staying up into the wee hours of the morning making these awesome looking pillow pets for the boys. I am super grateful that those were the fad this year and not tickle me Elmo because I don't think we could have pulled those off. Anyway, we were busy being crafty and were running on no sleep, so I told the boys on the morning of Christmas Eve to go play in their toy room and I was going to snooze with the baby. Have done it before (bad mommy habits revealed) I thought I could hopefully get a good 45 minutes out of them. I got an hour. I almost didn't believe my good fortune until I went into the front room and found my two darling little boys in front of the Christmas tree having had opened one of Paco's presents and there was wrapping paper everywhere. Ethan is a genius for two reasons. 1- He chose Caleb's present to open and not any of his own therefore Caleb should be the one to receive my wrath and 2- When I was standing there with my mouth gaping wide he said "But mom.... it's Christmas. You said we only had to wait until Christmas" He did have a good point. Caleb had been trying to convince me for days that because the lights were on the Christmas tree that it was Christmas and we should open the presents so the fact that we actually made it to Christmas eve was pretty amazing. Seriously I am having a hard time combating the logic of my 2 and 4 year olds. I am seriously screwed when they turn 8. So because David the night before had strongly encouraged me to try and have a loving and scream free Christmas eve and in all honesty I had no idea of what to say or do, I calmly told them to go play in their room where they stayed in of their own accord for the next hour. Its probably what saved them from having all their presents taken to the tip top of Mount Crumpit. My father in law of course thought it was hilarious and looking back on it, it probably was. Sometimes I would think it would be funny to have hidden cameras on me to see my reaction because I know there would be some doosies but then you might also see me picking my nose or wiping the babies snot and/or drool on my pants or something. (more bad mommy habits revealed. Thinking about starting another blog) I made it safely through the rest of the day and even dared the store for a few last moment items for Christmas day and remarkably was in and out in 25 minutes. It was a freaking Christmas miracle.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Riding in cars with boys
My children are hilarious. They probably get it from me. That's all I'll say about that.
Once again my story takes place in the car. I had just dropped David off at work and was heading for the really bad idea of going to the store on a Saturday afternoon 2 weeks before Christmas. Luckily fate smiled fondly on me and had me in such stitches before I got there that I actually had a pleasant afternoon with the boys. Out of nowhere Ethan pipes up from the back seat holding the long since dead and canceled Verizon cell phone that keeps them occupied behind me with "Command, command. Come in command. Anton, are you there?"
Not entirely sure of who "Anton" is and whether or not I should respond in place of Anton, I wearily turn my head to the side and say
"Hello?"
"Command, we have a serious problem here. I need your help Anton"
Still not quite knowing where this is going but willing to go along (David loves that about me;) I decide to fully embrace the persona of Anton and have fun with my kid.
"What seems to be the problem there..... whats your call sign again?"
"Cand"
"Right, Cand. Ok what is your problem"
"Well command, it looks like someone has stolen the machine. I can probably fix it but I am going to need some tools. Can you get a hold of Crow and send him with some tools?"
"Sure thing Cand. Hang on a minute. Crow, come in Crow. Are you there"
In comes Caleb because I am obviously talking to him. Now mind you this is my feisty child that is moved by no one and if he doesn't want to play then he will make it very well known. And he is two and doesn't enunciate very well. I am his own mother and can't understand half the crap he says. Just think crotchety old woman here.
"I not Crow. I Taydub. I not talking to jew!"
"Sorry about that Cand. Crow doesn't seems to be available at the moment. Is there anything else I can do?"
"Oh man. I was really hoping Crow could help me out"
Ethan looks longingly at Caleb
"I say I not talking to jew!"
"I think you are right Anton. Crow is not going to be much help. Oh my goodness this isn't good. What are we going to do?"
"What's the matter Cand. It sounds like something else has gone wrong. What can I do."
"Oh man. Some one else has taken all the apricot seeds. Now we will run out of food and probably die!"
"Easy there Cand. Keep it together soldier. No one is going to die. Not you, not me, not even Crow over there"
"I SAY I NOT TALKING TO JEW!"
"You are right Anton. I can do this! But we are going to have to stop the space ship so we can re-supply. How long is until landing?"
"Looks like we are going to be at the store, I mean landing spot in about 3 minutes. Is that going to work?"
"Sounds great command. I am going to go prepare for the secret mission."
We then got to the store and for the next 45 minutes it was "Anton, I think we need more apples than that" or "Anton, do you really think we should be getting that chocolate? It is not really healthy and can make you overweight" That is when I really wanted to follow in Crow's foot steps with a "I not talking to jew" but motherly refrain. It was almost funnier to watch the people that started to follow us throughout the store so they could hear the rest of the saga. I think I got stopped 4 times that day with how cute my kids were and how wonderful I was to be playing with them like that. If that is all it takes to get praise and recognition then I think I am going to start acting like a crazy person more often. I felt like a good mom that day and all I had to do was pick up the walkie when someone called out desperately for "command"
Once again my story takes place in the car. I had just dropped David off at work and was heading for the really bad idea of going to the store on a Saturday afternoon 2 weeks before Christmas. Luckily fate smiled fondly on me and had me in such stitches before I got there that I actually had a pleasant afternoon with the boys. Out of nowhere Ethan pipes up from the back seat holding the long since dead and canceled Verizon cell phone that keeps them occupied behind me with "Command, command. Come in command. Anton, are you there?"
Not entirely sure of who "Anton" is and whether or not I should respond in place of Anton, I wearily turn my head to the side and say
"Hello?"
"Command, we have a serious problem here. I need your help Anton"
Still not quite knowing where this is going but willing to go along (David loves that about me;) I decide to fully embrace the persona of Anton and have fun with my kid.
"What seems to be the problem there..... whats your call sign again?"
"Cand"
"Right, Cand. Ok what is your problem"
"Well command, it looks like someone has stolen the machine. I can probably fix it but I am going to need some tools. Can you get a hold of Crow and send him with some tools?"
"Sure thing Cand. Hang on a minute. Crow, come in Crow. Are you there"
In comes Caleb because I am obviously talking to him. Now mind you this is my feisty child that is moved by no one and if he doesn't want to play then he will make it very well known. And he is two and doesn't enunciate very well. I am his own mother and can't understand half the crap he says. Just think crotchety old woman here.
"I not Crow. I Taydub. I not talking to jew!"
"Sorry about that Cand. Crow doesn't seems to be available at the moment. Is there anything else I can do?"
"Oh man. I was really hoping Crow could help me out"
Ethan looks longingly at Caleb
"I say I not talking to jew!"
"I think you are right Anton. Crow is not going to be much help. Oh my goodness this isn't good. What are we going to do?"
"What's the matter Cand. It sounds like something else has gone wrong. What can I do."
"Oh man. Some one else has taken all the apricot seeds. Now we will run out of food and probably die!"
"Easy there Cand. Keep it together soldier. No one is going to die. Not you, not me, not even Crow over there"
"I SAY I NOT TALKING TO JEW!"
"You are right Anton. I can do this! But we are going to have to stop the space ship so we can re-supply. How long is until landing?"
"Looks like we are going to be at the store, I mean landing spot in about 3 minutes. Is that going to work?"
"Sounds great command. I am going to go prepare for the secret mission."
We then got to the store and for the next 45 minutes it was "Anton, I think we need more apples than that" or "Anton, do you really think we should be getting that chocolate? It is not really healthy and can make you overweight" That is when I really wanted to follow in Crow's foot steps with a "I not talking to jew" but motherly refrain. It was almost funnier to watch the people that started to follow us throughout the store so they could hear the rest of the saga. I think I got stopped 4 times that day with how cute my kids were and how wonderful I was to be playing with them like that. If that is all it takes to get praise and recognition then I think I am going to start acting like a crazy person more often. I felt like a good mom that day and all I had to do was pick up the walkie when someone called out desperately for "command"
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Great... I bet Santa Claus is next
I think one of the nicest things about being a parent is being able to see the world through your child's eyes occasionally. Especially when you are stressed about how are we going to pay the bills this month, am I being a good mother, or how am I going to make it through another day without seriously killing someone..... seriously.... one of your kids shares their view of the world and suddenly those worries take back seat for a while and you can just smile.
Ethan and Caleb were playing with these purple satin shoulder wraps that I made for my sisters wedding that they love to use as doll blankets, king robes, sumo wrestling underwear... whatever. Today they were capes. Ethan says to me,
"Mom, I really want to learn how to fly for real"
I smile and think "so cute!" and then have to be the one to break it to him that people can't really fly and the only way we can is on airplanes. My son being the one to have a solution for every problem says
"Superman can fly. I will just learn from him"
Huh. That's a good point. Why do I have to be the bearer of bad news and tell my wonderfully imaginative son that superman is not real. I might as well smack him across the face. The divvying of the parental responsibilities has gotten a little skewed, I think. David taught him the ABC's, I teach him to pee standing up. David has the cool job at the airport that they like to talk about all day, I destroy his childhood dreams. This kind of sucks. Deep breath....
"Honey, Superman is not really real. He can't really fly. He is just a character that someone made up for pretend."
Look of absolute horror. I hate myself. But after a moment of letting it sink in, his expression suddenly changes to one of hope and excitement. I am confused....
"Wait, Mom.... I know what will fix this"
He runs into the toy room and promptly destroys it from the sound of things and then comes running out with his daddy's old batman cape. Of course, how silly could I be. He just had the wrong cape. Now certainly he can fly. But there is no way in hell I am going to tell him now that Batman couldn't really fly either but rather jumped off tall buildings using grappling hooks and ropes to keep his butt from splatting on the concrete. I'm only going to burst one bubble today
Ethan and Caleb were playing with these purple satin shoulder wraps that I made for my sisters wedding that they love to use as doll blankets, king robes, sumo wrestling underwear... whatever. Today they were capes. Ethan says to me,
"Mom, I really want to learn how to fly for real"
I smile and think "so cute!" and then have to be the one to break it to him that people can't really fly and the only way we can is on airplanes. My son being the one to have a solution for every problem says
"Superman can fly. I will just learn from him"
Huh. That's a good point. Why do I have to be the bearer of bad news and tell my wonderfully imaginative son that superman is not real. I might as well smack him across the face. The divvying of the parental responsibilities has gotten a little skewed, I think. David taught him the ABC's, I teach him to pee standing up. David has the cool job at the airport that they like to talk about all day, I destroy his childhood dreams. This kind of sucks. Deep breath....
"Honey, Superman is not really real. He can't really fly. He is just a character that someone made up for pretend."
Look of absolute horror. I hate myself. But after a moment of letting it sink in, his expression suddenly changes to one of hope and excitement. I am confused....
"Wait, Mom.... I know what will fix this"
He runs into the toy room and promptly destroys it from the sound of things and then comes running out with his daddy's old batman cape. Of course, how silly could I be. He just had the wrong cape. Now certainly he can fly. But there is no way in hell I am going to tell him now that Batman couldn't really fly either but rather jumped off tall buildings using grappling hooks and ropes to keep his butt from splatting on the concrete. I'm only going to burst one bubble today
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