Why He's Hoarse, of Course

We had a lovely but quickity-quick Easter Sunday, thanks to the fact that I cram 25 of my 40 work hours into every weekend, most of them in the night. It doesn't leave a lot of time for holiday activities in the middle of day. Or maybe it just doesn't leave a lot time for me to sleep. Whatever.

Lucas had a lovely day dueling his Uncle Ben with their new light sabers. Like he really needed another one...one that makes action sounds and light displays and hurts like the dickens when it comes in contact with a finger or two. Lately all his days are spent reenacting looong battle scenes he's seen in the movies, and others he's made up on the go. By the time my son's head hits the pillow at night, he's talked himself hoarse...and that's no joke. I call to say goodnight from work and his little raspy voice answers and tells me, "Mommy? I love you a thousand. Here's Grandma." And I have to laugh...because even though he can't be bothered to linger on the phone with me for more than a second, it's because he can't shut off the Star Wars movie that's constantly running in his mind. I can hear him pick right up where he left off in the background, narrating as he goes and begging for his Grandma's attention.

I get these babycenter.com updates every week that offer up ideas of where your child might/should be developmentally for their age. I started getting them when I was pregnant. I lived for those updates and the pictures of how big your baby probably was on that day. I haven't ever figured out how to stop those updates...I'll probably still be receiving them when he's 18; This week's update: Your child is off to college! Today's email told me that in order for my son to become a good listener, I have to model that behavior for him. He needs my undivided attention when telling me something, so that he'll in turn model that behavior towards others. While I agree with that wholeheartedly, there's is no way on earth that I could stare into his eyes and listen intently to his words when they simply never stop. I can't figure out how to redirect him to a silent different activity. He is a man on mission and can not be deterred. I'm thinking kindergarten is going to be tough at first. I'd like to wish his teacher good luck.

A Responsible Mother Probably Would Have Called a Stop to it Instead of Running Inside for a Camera

My son has found his people. He, like most little boys, is in awe of the big boys. We have a fair number of them in our apartment complex and they let him run in their pack. There's one particular boy who's sort of the pack leader, and Lucas idolizes him. In return, BigKid lets Lucas be his shadow, his team mate, and he protects him from the rougher games. Yesterday the boys decided to play some insane version of leapfrog and basketball. BidKid was leaping over boys, even boys who were standing straight up. It blew my mind. And I ran inside for my camera instead of making them stop. Bad parent.

And I let him do it Lucas, after I'd seen him jump over much taller kids. It made Luke's day.

And he let Lucas "jump" over him, because he's a really sweet kid.

Should Have Been a Lesson Learned

Lucas and I went to see Monsters vs. Aliens on Friday. 3D movies have come a long way since the last time I saw one with the paper glasses, one eye red and the other blue. We were handed black plastic sunglasses, very Drew Carey-like, and headed on into the theater. Lucas was excited for about half a minute and then freaked a bit as 3D hamburgers went flying by his head. He yanked the glasses off and loudly announced to a full theater that he wasn't staying. I told him I paid $16 to see a matinee and he needed to put those glasses back on his face and give the movie a chance. And he did. Which is amazing, 'cause he can be a very stubborn and vocal kid when the mood strikes. It was such a fun movie, and it was so darn cute to see his little hand come up to swat things away in air in front of him. Except, he decided that he just loves those 3D glasses and he doesn't want to take them off. He put them back on as soon as he woke up yesterday, and wore them non-stop, even though I kept telling him he needed to take them off. We pulled in to Costco and he tells me, "I don't feel right., I 'fink I might be sick." Yeah, no kidding, you've been wearing those funky glasses all morning. He hops out of the car and barfs all over the parking lot. "Hmm" he says, "tastes like lemonade. I feel better now." But he still doesn't take the glasses off. Dude...boys are gross.

The Check Up

I took my great-big-old-as-the-hills five year old to his five year checkup. He about broke my heart with sweetness and cuteness sitting cross-legged in the exam room getting his hearing test. Watching his little smile and his concentration while he heard sounds known only to dog's ears and raising his hand to let the nurse know...well, it just about killed me. I actually had to excuse myself for just a little second because I was about to erupt in a fit of giggles from the SHEER CUTENESS OF IT ALL, and I didn't want to interrupt or screw up the test, so instead I stood just outside the door with my hand over my mouth, trying to pull it together. Seriously, his hearing is GOOD. And he is CUTE. In addition to perfect hearing, he vision is spot on, he took all four vaccinations like a pro, and he's most proud of brushing his teeth with toothpaste and jumping high. Or at least that's all he could think of when Dr. Brad asked him. (We are both madly in love with Dr. Brad by the way: Me because he HEALS THE CHILDREN and he always tells me that I'm doing a really good job, and Lucas because Dr. Brad knows about Star Wars and likes to give out hugs, stickers and high fives. Both of us have equally good reasons, if you ask me.)