"C'mon, pal"

There is this moment that I keep finding myself in when my darling little child is suddenly an actual person. An actual kid. An actual 8 year old with a personality entirely his own and friends who find him darling. Sure, I have always found him darling, he's my baby, but it is decidely different when you see the way your child, your baby, interacts with his peers.

Jordan has a friend over this afternoon. A friend he introduces to others as his "like practically brother we're such best friends". And while I finished my lunch in the silence of naptime the boys were playing dragons and dinos in the living room. I overheard them discussing how long they had to play (3.5 hours) and then Jordan says, "We better get to it. Because - - well time sure passes fast when you're playing with a good friend."
Somebody get the crackers! Cheesy!! But darling, of course.
His counterpart responded with an unsuprsied "yeah, you're right" and they went about their dragon pretending ways.

Then they came to ask for a snack just a minute ago and Jordan was making some fairly obnoxious noise with his cheeks full of air and his friend says "Jordan could you please quit?" and Jordan responds "Sure. Sorry. pal" then nudges him with outstretched arm on elbow. Think - ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' chap nudge.

and they left the room with a quiet and smiling "C'mon, pal".

I can hardly contain myself just about now. Not sure if I'll laugh at the cheesiness or cry at the aging of my baby.

A brief expose on the status of Jordan's hair

This was totally unsolicited. That is what makes it all the funnier. I said maybe we should take one picture before we chopped it off and instead he asks if I could turn the video on because "I think I'd like to make a short video". So here you have it.

Stylist at heart?

Sedona takes a stab at headbands.

Day-Tripping. .. .

Last Wednesday we ventured up to the great Illinois capital of Springfield to meet Dad and Pam and Joey who were camping not far from there. We spent the afternoon at the Lincoln Museum and later at a fabulous establishment called Kicks 66.
Allow me to provide you with what I consider the 3 true successes of the day. One per child, mind you.

At the museum there is an area where kids can play with old-timey types of toys (things made out of this bizarre material they call "wood") and dress up in Lincoln era garb. Sedona enjoyed the dresses as much as the next little girl but it wasn't until she tried on the soldier's coat that it became worth mentioning. She puts on the coat, gets help buttoning it up and just as I step back to take her picture she turns and check out her butt in the mirror. No joke. Does the over the shoulder butt check in the enormous soldier's uniform. Atta girl.

Here she is just after the butt-check. All was well.




Next up - Jordan. The curious lad wonders if maybe Grandpa is lying when he says that he isn't actually ticklish. So Jordan digs those little fingers deep into grandpa-pits and gets, sadly, no reaction other than "Most people wouldn't want to put their hands in my armpits". So when he finially gives up we catch him slowly and very intently smelling his fingers. Yes. small sniffs, scrunched face.


A bit later we're at Kicks 66 enjoying the buffet and Joey comes back to the table with a mystery desert in a small bowl. We ask him what it is, he doesn't know but "it was on the desert pile" so he figured it couldn't be all bad. He takes a bite and then sets into the most dramatic display of spitting out food and wiping off tongue. We laugh, a bit suprised, and say "What is it, Joey?" and he responds in a voice reminiscent of Forrest Gump, "Something stick-ay!"

It was glorious.
A lovely day trip. Lovely children.
I'll get pictures up to accompany the story here in just a bit. Back to the Easter costume construction for awhile.

Impressionable youth

I had Sedona in the tub this morning when she stood on her head, butt up and dipped only the front of her hair in the water. When she stood up, she looked like this and announced "Look, Mommy, my look like those mans" and pointed to the Misfits poster that adorns our bathroom wall. For those unfamiliar with the signature Misfit hair-do. This is pretty much it. The lock down in front of their face. She loved it. Repeated the act four or five times, demanding her picture be taken each time and with each picture adding commentary that I can't possibly do justice to here. Things like "My like it my BIG hair" and "Those mans funny. My funny too!"



and just as a point of reference. . . this is The Misfits . . . .

It isn't funny.

Really. it isn't.
And yet, somehow, I just can't not laugh. I'm a horrible mother. Laughing in the suffering face of my child.
But let me provide you with a bit of much needed background info, allow me to set the stage for you. . . .

We are trying, in vain, to get just a few errands done after church one sunny Sunday afternoon. Jordan, in a delightfully foul mood, has not even paused in the whining and petitioning department. When he finally does, he laughs and says "Fine, then, I'll just live inside this bug bag." And a smile creeps across his face, the foul mood evaporating and Jordan is restored to his usual silly self.

I smile and say something to the effect of "Well that just sounds super. You do that."

And so he did.
But that isn't where the picture comes in. It isn't until he's rambled on, jokingly, about how his family doesn't want him and he's actually happier in the bug bag that he decides, maybe he'll take the bag off his head now. Let me also mention that his head was completely inside the bag. I saw only neck and body with a blue insect collecting bag for a head.
He starts to pull the bag off when he discovers . . dum dum dummmmm. . . .he's stuck.
Yes stuck.
Which wouldn't be such a momentous event if it weren't for the panic that ensued. Jordan gets stuck all sorts of places and is usually able to calmly extricate himself. Not this time. And I'm in the front seat, trying to calmly address the situation, asking him to stop yanking on it and stop, certainly, the frenzied screaming. But he won't listen. I reach back to try and help - am pushed away.
So I told him that if he was unwilling to accept help, that he would just have to wait until we got home to deal with it but that the screaming must certainly stop immdiately.

And now, I become the jerk, after having conducted myself very well, I think anyway, I got out the camera phone. He sat there, in the bag, scowling at me for the next 15 minuts. When I say "in the bag" I mean really completely inside. The pciture I happened to capture one of the times he lifted it up to see if he still hated his family. The rest of te drive he sat there, arms crossed across his chest with a blue bag atop his neck. I offered to help him again but he harumphed and turned his attention out his window. (Remember here that he can't actually see anything from inside the bag - making his turned neck even funnier)

Am I the only one that see the comedy in this? Scowling with a little toy bag on your head. The scowl really loses its effect and you somehow become simply hilarious. Especially if no one can see that you are, in fact, still scowling from inside the blue vinyl that has swallowed your head.

So I laughed, mostly to myself, but he just kept scowling until he finally says, "Well I'm glad SOMEBODY thinks it is funny that I have a freaking BAG stuck on my head."
That's when I lost all restraint and it is at that point in the story that I sit here, alone in the office, and laugh outloud.

I love this kid.

Weirdness Wisdom

So Jordan says to me:
"Mom, I think I'm the weirdest person even IN this family. No, actually, you are. I was born from you so before I was born you had all my weirdness and I had all your weirdness. But I do have my own actions and you have yours. I have to make my own choices about those. . . But the weirdness - " and he trails off leaving what I can only assume is an accusation or maybe a resignation to the facts. I'll never know. I'm just too weird.


In other news:
Sedona has been having a hard time getting to sleep the past few days and when she tip-toes out of her room she immediately reports "My tummy not go sleep right now. My tummy can't go sleep 2 minutes." What does this mean? Such an elaborate placement of blame for one so young. It isn't her fault at all that she is wandering the house after bedtime - its her tummy's. She does, however, consistently come to me to report this so I don't worry too much about her roaming unattended unbeknowst to us but then yesterday I thought I heard something as I was sitting here in the office but she never appeared from around the corner so I was sure I had imagined the squeak of her bedroom door. So a few minutes later I went into the kitchen to refill my drink (yes, vodka tonic. ok no - water but how much cooler would it have been to say -'went to freshen up my drink'? and i don't really know that you "freshen" water. eh well) when what do I find?

Sedona tip-toeing in circles in the middle of the kitchen with exaggerated arm be-quiet- gestures and an expression words can't possibly describe but imagine, again, EXAGGERATED quietness - big eyes, almost surprised mouth, slight smile, definite deviance.
But there she was. tip-toeing literally in circles for no apparent reason.
Too bad Jordan missed seeing that before he made his weirdness diagnosis.

It's a snow day.

Ah. Truly a rite of passage that we thought our children would miss out on in this Deep South climate of St. Louis. After a 1/2 inch of ice and a couple inches of snow, the entire State of Missouri closed down for at least 4 days. This gave us plenty of time to play in the snow. Jordan and Jeremy constructed an igloo in the front yard - Sedona discovered a newfound joy in licking the ground and Jana laughed and looked pretty. Oh, the kid in the elf costume. That is Jordan's alterego "Dingle." That's right, Dingle. Jordan got that part in an upcoming school play in which he helps Mrs. Claus save Christmas. The beautiful costume was handmade by Dingle's mom. He will go down in the annals of history as Dingle-boy. (Click the thumbnails for full-size versions).

Roboto Who

Some good old fashioned family fun on the way back from Arkansas. Some necessary footnotes: 1) we think that the boy is saying "Get off my stage." This is up for debate. Please feel free to comment with your best guesses. 2) Pay close attention to the straightening of the sunglasses on Miss Thang. 3) Notice the boy's abrupt stopping of the growl upon receiving the look of I-will-pull-this-car-over-and-probably-do-nothing-because-you-don't-get-spanked-but-believe-you-me-it-won't-be-pleasant from Jana. 4) Oh yeah...the uh...beginning beeps...well, I didn't know that Jana was filming. They add a new dimension of enjoyment, though.

Eating Awful

So, here she is. Lovely and amazing. Click to watch her in action.

"Look Mom! Karate!"

Arriving at 1am anywhere in the continental US can be tiresome. Arriving somewhere deep in the Ozarks of Arkansas is downright exhausting. Nevertheless, we arrived safely at our hotel late Tuesday night in preparation for our Thanksgiving event. Are you wiht me? 1am Arkansas time. 8 hours in the car with the kids. Both kids awake and eating cereal thinking surely it must be morning and responding to this thought with energy and hilarity. So imagine this:

The grandparents and great grandparents waited up. Watched some tv. Flipped through some channels but at our arrival moved to the dining area of the condo/hotel room/resort accomodations leaving the television both unattended and unnoticed. I barely notice that it is on in the other room.

I barely notice. Jordan, on the other hand, is watching it from a distance little beknowst to us when suddenly he exclaims, "Look mom! Karate. They're doing karate!" I look. I gasp. I run, covering his sight path with my sweater and yell for Jeremy to DO SOMETHING TO THAT TELEVISION!

Now let's remember that it is 1am and maybe I overreacted a bit. But maybe, just maybe, you'd be equally alarmed to find your 7 yr old son watching the male stripper/dancer scene in Bachelor Party (an otherwise lovely film starring the ever-popular Tom Hanks). But karate? Hardly. Especially considering his recent enrollment in a karate class. We wouldn't want the little dear to get in his head that that "karate" was what he was to be trained for. Heavens no.

But funny for sure.

Chinese delivery and oh so much funny

So not only does Sedona entertain us with her darting eyes and quiet commentary during meals, but tonight, over Chinese delivery she delivered a real treat.

She had eaten all of her rice and was flirting with the idea of actually eating her veggies and chicken and beef when she gasps"!!What's that on my leg?!" Reaches under the table and returns with 3 little grains of sticky white rice on the very tip of her finger and announces ever so loudly "MY FOUND MORE!!!" and pops it delicately into her mouth.

Another noteworthy clip from this evening:

Jordan ties an oversized dog around his neck by the ears (this dog is larger than Sedona and of the Hush Puppy logo breed). He then stands near the sink and instructs Sedona to attack him. Try to get him. Bring it on baby. Gimme the heater. So she throws this giant orange bouncy ball (the really hard weird squeaky plastic kind) directly at him and what does he do? Take a minute to imagine the scene. Gigantic stuffed dog piggybacking skinny little Jordan and bruiser Sedona without hesitation firing one into that end of the kitchen. What do you think he did? Was it his plan all along?
Yeah. He swung his body weight around and hit the ball with the dog attached to his back. Talk about perversions of a sport. Maybe it was the World Series energy all around that led him to improvise on the time honored sport. Maybe my kids are a stinkin riot.
Well, it went incredibly well. I can't say I know just how the scoring works in this dogball but I do know that he averaged somewhere around 2 out of 3 hits and that's saying a lot considering he's using a dog to bat and the "pitcher" is less than accurate.

My boy now?

So we redid Sedona's room complete with Ikea bed and new quilts, paint etc last spring. Since then, however, she has slept on top of the quilt/covers with just a blanket over her. Last week as the temperatures started to drop I decided "eh, maybe i should put the kid under the covers and increase her chances of actually staying covered through the night".

Bedtime arrives and we go in for the usual routine but I pulled back the covers and said "Sedona, tonight you get to sleep UNDER the covers. In your bed like a big kid. Like Jordan." Or something to that effect. . .

"My boy now, mommy?" confused. slightly concerned but still pretty happy about the prospect.

"No dearest. You are not a boy now. You are just big, like Jordan. Big. Sleeping under covers."

"No. My boy now Mommy."

This continued and was retold to various relatives and friends later that night, thinking it was all in the past. Well come morning, I go in and she jumps up and yells "UNDER MY COVERS MOMMY! MY BOY!!!!"

Oh man.

I prayed with a monkey last night.

Sedona has adopted one of Jordan's old stuffed animals. A purple faced monkey is now an active member in our daily activities. We buckle the monkey's seatbelt. We save a seat for the monkey at the table. You can imagine how this goes on and on.

But the best part of the ritual caring for the monkey is just before we say goodnight. I tuck Sedona in, kiss her, hug her, make sure she has everything necessary for a good night's sleep (3 favorite blankets, a babydoll, her quilt to cover up, her binkie, some water, her music) but then I have to put pants on the monkey.

Pajama pants. Jordan's old pajama shorts. Now, the monkey doesn't wear clothes the rest of the time but come bedtime - put some pants on for goodness sake. (? is this really the rationale? is there even a rationale here when we are dealing in monkey pants?) S/he has been spotted wearing Air Jordan's though but again, without pants. So why the pjs? I haven't the foggiest idea. I made the mistake of throwing the monkey's pajamas in the wash one night and had to go fish them out before anyone was going to get any rest.

So last night I kiss her, hug her, say a short prayer and turn to leave when she shouts "PRAY MY MONKEY MOMMY!"

So yes, I knelt, held the monkey's hands and said a short prayer.

How did it come to this? Talk about those moments that freeze in your mind and you wonder
"is this a defining moment in my life?"
"is this a testament to my love of my child?"
"is this maybe the dumbest thing I've done in the last 5 years?"
"wow i feel like a dork."

Who knew . . .

Who would ever imagine that a conversation about genetics, maternal grandfathers' hair patterns, and the eventual creation of the next generation could lead to this insanity:

"And when you get married and have kids, they will have your wife's father's hair pattern."

---"I'll be what I am until I find her." deadpan. straight faced. calm delivery. very matter of fact.

To which Jordan earned responses such as:
"well, you'll be what you are until aren't." Aren't we a couple of stinkers? Toying with semantics and existentialism with a 7 yr old?

"and when you find her, you'll still be you."

"and she'll love you anyway."

------"No, but I'll be what I am"

"Until you aren't."

And so on.

-------"No. I'll be what I am. A solitary man."

oh.

der.

gasp and chuckle all around as we launch (as a terribly mistuned family) into our favorite and yours - Johnny Cash: the solitary man.

Educate your children in the ways of musical icons and you too can enjoy confusion and repetitiveness disguised as youthful candor around the dinner table.

Swimming socks

Darling, isn't she? Ready for anything. Granted we had just pulled out of the dock. The glasses were a cause of great anxiety all day, Jordan's socks ( in the background) really were not the best boating choice, Sedona's suit was peed through about 3 mintues later and left dangling to dry the better part of the afternoon and Jeremy's shoes (also in the background) were violated 10 ways from Tuesday as he sunk into the clay helping to shore the boat for lunch. Not a good day for footwear. But a stinkin cute picture nonetheless.

Spidey fishing

 

A little bit of fishing

While Jordan was on worm clean-up, Sedona took a go at Spiderman fishing (do notice the Spiderman pole in the next picture). Sadly, the concept of keeping the pole in your posession was lost on her and without Dad's firm grip - Spidey would've been a goner. She kept trying to throw the reel and rod and whole deal AT the fish. To each his own, I suppose. . . .everyone has their own particular style and approach, right?

Tubing

Aunt Michelle was kind enough to allow Jordan a co-captain seat in the tube. What we didn't account for though was his complete and utter lack of body fat. He returned from the water a tiny bluish purple shivering mass. "But it was worth it" he'll tell you.

Captain Jordan

Did I mention the shouting of "ALL ABOARD!!!!!" He sure wore that out. But here he is.