Why My Son Rocks My Socks

There are many things I love about Theo, but one of them is the fact that hidden in that tiny, angelic-looking body is the heart of a true smartass. It comes out in subtle ways, but I swear to you the kid knows enough to mess with people--and it cracks me up!

Yesterday, we took him into San Francisco for an autism/Asperger's screening, at the request of his preschool. (Will tell you right now that he does NOT have autism or Asperger's, thank goodness! He sailed through that part of the testing.) For part of the testing, we spoke with a child psychologist while Theo did various activities with another psychologist and an occupational therapist. And then we got to go into a private room and observe the rest of his evaluation, which was quite entertaining. At this point, the occupational therapist joined us, and Theo was left with the child psychologist, whom neither Chris nor I particularly liked. (She was very much in the "one-size-fits-all" school of thought--rather inflexible on the idea that children are individuals.) And I don't think Theo cared for her overly much, either, as he kept messing with her.

This part of the evaluation consisted of her doing several different activities with Theo. Those of you who know Theo know that he has a very good attention span for something that interests him--and a very short attention span for something he deems pointless or boring. Such was the case yesterday. The therapist was trying to get him to do a puzzle that he didn't feel like doing, and although he was perfectly polite and never once threw a tantrum, he tried every trick in the book to get out of doing it. My personal favorite was this exchange:

Dr: Theo, let's finish the puzzle.
Theo: You have a red shirt!
Dr: Yes, I do. Now let's finish the puzzle.
Theo: You have a red shirt, blue pants, and striped underwear!
Dr (looking slightly taken aback): You...you have striped underwear??
Theo (looking rather annoyed that she would misunderstand him): No, you have stripes. Feo have colored underwear! [And then, best of all, he started to pull down his pants to show her.]
Dr: Oh, okay! You don't have to show me!!!

HA! I love it. Later, she wanted him to fill in some details about a story in a very strange book about frogs. Theo was utterly bored by the book and wanted to move on, but he grudgingly answered her questions. Later that night, as I put him to bed, I asked him what he had done with the doctor at Kaiser. His reply? "We read a boring book."

Boring indeed! The kid is nothing if not honest!!

The Little Legal Enforcer

Tonight we took Theo to the hardware store so we could get some paint samples for the baby's room. Theo was in a contrary mood, arguing about almost everything, and the subject of where he could sit in the cart came up. (Being quite contrary, he certainly wasn't going to be allowed to "walk like a big boy" in the store tonight!) And so we had this conversation:

Chris: Okay, Theo, you can come in and sit in the cart, but if we hear any fussing or arguing, we're going back out to the car.
Theo: Feo want to sit in the middle of the cart! [This means the part where the groceries--or in this case, hardware items--go.]
Me: No, you need to sit in the seat. We're going to put the paint in the middle of the cart.
Theo: No! Feo want to sit in the middle of the cart!
Me: No, you're going to sit in the seat. And if I hear any more arguing...
Theo: Feo want to sit in the middle of the cart! The law says so!!

Clearly, I need to go study the legal code, as there is evidently a section that says contrary preschoolers must sit in the middle of the cart....

What Not to Wear

In the past week or two, I have finally "popped," and consequently my clothes don't fit overly well now. I refuse to buy maternity pajamas when I probably have only six or seven weeks left to wear them, so instead I wedge myself into my regular fleece PJs. The bottoms ride below my belly (and slide down whenever I bend over, which is quite attractive, I'm sure), and the tops tend to ride up. The result is that I waddle around with part of my belly hanging out in the air. Apparently, my 3 1/2-year-old fashion consultant doesn't appreciate this style choice. This morning, I got him out of bed, and he walked over and tried to tug down my pajama top, saying, "Mama needs to close this!"

Oh dear...if only I could....

Career Aspirations

A couple of weeks ago, Theo randomly announced after his nap that he needed to go to work. We had this exchange:

Me: Work, huh? Where do you work?
Theo: At the mall.
Me: What do you do at the mall?
Theo: Um...I put broccoli in bowls for people.

This led me to believe that he was aspiring to a career at Panda Express, serving up broccoli beef to the masses. However, his career aspirations have since changed to something slightly more creative (but probably not much more lucrative). I came upon him playing his guitar and singing a song he had composed, which is apparently titled "The Sleepy Song."

Me: Hey, I like your song!
Theo: Um, I'm just gonna take my guitar and get in my super-special car...when my super-special car gets here. And I'm gonna drive to Walnut Creek. Then I'm going to find the parking garage. Then I'm going to push the elevator button; then I'll be done with that. And I will take my guitar to downtown Walnut Creek to the farmers' market, and I will play my song for the people.

Aha! I see we have moved on to the career of street performer! And once again, the "super-special car" saves the day--it will convey him and his guitar to their gig. Excellent!

His "Super-Special Car"

I hear kids sometimes have an imaginary friend by this age. Theo doesn't have an imaginary friend, but he does have a "super-special car!" We've been hearing about this car for a week or two now, and we're pretty intrigued. Apparently the super-special car is very colorful--if you ask him what color it is, he'll supply you with a whole list of colors. And it does really neat things. For example, when we were stuck in traffic trying to get to music class last week, Theo announced from the back seat that if we were in his super-special car, we could "just push a button and fly right over the traffic!"

Also, the super-special car will take you wherever you want to go. Today, Theo wanted Jamba Juice. But he would have Jamba Juice every day if it were up to him, so we save it for special treats. And so I said, "No, I don't think we'll do Jamba today. Maybe another day this week." He replied authoritatively, "I'm just going to drive my super-special car to Jamba Juice!"

The super-special car goes other places, too. When I asked him the other day where he would drive it, he said, "I will drive it to my old house--no, not there. Some other people live there now. I will drive it to my new house. Then I will drive it to preschool. Then I will drive it to my gym. And then I will drive it to Grandma and Murphy's house!" (Murphy is my Mom's new dog--for those wondering, no she does not have some mysterious Irish boyfriend!)

Apparently the super-special car will also drive us to Disneyland. We're all pretty excited about that.

But there's one problem: We have yet to see the super-special car. According to Theo this morning, it's going to arrive "soon." But then later today, he informed me that "Mama needs to order your [my] super-special car." So evidently I'm supposed to order this Inspector Gadget-type car that does really neat things such as fly over traffic and drive us to Disneyland! Hmmm...anyone know where I can get one??

Theo on Football

Lately, Theo is all about Chris--quite the "Daddy's boy." And one thing Chris loves is football--at least when the Dallas Cowboys are playing. So last week, the boys were watching the game, and Chris was grumbling about the Cowboys blowing it near the end of the game. From upstairs (where I was hiding, given that I do not share their love of the game!), I heard Chris go, "Come ON, guys! What are you thinking?" I then heard a tiny voice pipe up with, "The Dallas Cowboys are not being good listeners!" Ha! Maybe their coach should try telling them that....

Fast-forward to this weekend. I walked in (after solo Christmas shopping) during the football game. As Chris prepared to leave for his own solo shopping trip, Theo announced, "Mama wants to watch football with you [me]!" Um, no--can't say I do. We settled on "Milo and Otis" instead....

The Art of Transference

Much like his Mama, Theo does not like being cooped up in the house! Yesterday, he came down with a swift, brutal cold bug. He was a complete mess by late afternoon: Fever over 102, coughing, glassy eyes, no energy, not eating, and all that good stuff. Thankfully, his fever broke overnight, so today he is raring to go--but still coughing quite a bit. And I'd like to keep him a little quiet today, just to make sure the fever doesn't come back. Theo doesn't agree, though. In suggesting to me all the fun things we might do today, we had this conversation:

Me: Theo, I'm not sure we'll be doing much today. You're still not feeling all that well.
Theo: No! Feo is not sick! Luna [our pug] is sick! Feo is much better now!

Nice try. For the record, Luna is not sick--and Theo is much improved, but not 100%. But I like the way he tried to shift the focus onto the dog! Just wait until he has a baby brother to try to shove this stuff off on!

Artist Temperament

This is sort of a two-part story about my diva son and his artistic temperament...

Last night, he came running into the kitchen and asked for paper and crayons. I was rather stunned, as he hates drawing/coloring and NEVER asks to do it. But I found him a piece of paper and some crayons, and he set to work on his masterpiece.

Me: So what are you drawing, anyway?
Theo: Um, I'm just writing some music....

He then proceeded to score three songs, which he titled "The Pink Song, "The Neil Diamond Song," and "The Other Neil Diamond Song." And then he grabbed his drumsticks to use as conductor batons and conducted his scores for me. Ha!

So this morning, it was time for our first Music Together class...

Me: Let's finish your breakfast. We need to get you ready to go to music class.
Theo: Feo might play a tuba!
Me: Well, I don't think they have a tuba there, but they have lots of instruments to play and lots of other kids to play with.
Theo (scrambling to find the scores he composed last night): I have to find my paper! I need to bring it! We will conduct my songs!

Clearly, he already thought he was the Arthur Fiedler of the Oakland Hills Music Together class...

And so we set off to Music Together, but it took us almost an hour to get there, due to horrendous traffic that I grumbled about in the car. When we got to class, it turned out that it wasn't so much a place to play  instruments--rather, there were songs to sing and scarves to dance with. As expected, the budding conductor/composer was not amused. In fact, he was quite bored, so he took the opportunity to stand up and announced loudly, "It's time to go. Want to just go sit in traffic instead!"

When traffic trumps a music class, you know it's a bust....

For the record, they had a short five-minute segment of letting the kids play instruments, and Theo came to life for that. He grabbed a wooden xylophone, a couple of drumsticks, and a drum and was a little one-man percussion section. But all too soon that part of the class was over, and he again announced that he'd like to go sit in traffic instead....

You could almost read it on his face: "People, what kind of crappy music class is this? I'm here to play instruments--where's my tuba? Where's my cello? Where's my French horn? Forget it--this isn't worth my time. I'm just going to go sit in traffic instead."

I love that kid...

Spanx Me!

Theo likes to help me get ready in the morning. As I was about to get out of the shower, he gathered my towel, a Q-tip, the hairdryer, and my underwear. This morning, he gave me two undie choices--a purple pair and a teeny-tiny pair of Spanx I wore to my wedding, almost five years (and several pounds) ago. This wouldn't be nearly so amusing if I wasn't almost eight months' pregnant. There's just no way those Spanx are ever going to fit right now--imagine trying to shoehorn an elephant into a pair of size-0 skinny jeans. So I laughed and said, "I don't think those will fit right now. I'll take the purple pair." Theo scurried away to put the Spanx back in my drawer, muttering, "Okay, you can try this pair tomorrow, then." Guess I better go hide those--or find a shoehorn to try to wedge myself into them!

So THAT's What's in a Diaper...

Theo has a new baby brother due to arrive in a couple of months. To help prepare him to become a big brother, my Mom got him a baby-boy doll. Theo is fascinated by his baby, and we had this exchange this morning:

Theo: I need to check the baby's diaper.
Me: Okay, is there anything in there?
Theo: Yes, there is. There's a penis.
Me: Oh, okay. Anything else? What about poop?
Theo: No, just a penis.

It's worth noting that I got curious and checked out said baby-boy doll. Although he is garbed in boy clothes, he's anatomically androgynous. But clearly, since he's wearing a blue baseball cap and blue clothes, he must have a penis. Or so sayeth the three-year-old...