Every...Little...Loophole...

Raising Theo can be exhausting. For one thing, he will find every possible loophole to try to get his way. It's not just Chris and me who have noticed this—his preschool teacher commented that it exhausted her, too. "Just when I think I've got an ironclad rule for him, he finds some way around it!" she told me once. Yes, yes...I understand exactly. We're pretty sure he'd make a cracker-jack attorney someday.

Lately, Theo very much wants to use the words "Jesus" and "God," only not in a polite or respectful way. He has heard, on YouTube, people curse, "Jesus Christ!" when an elevator isn't working, or say things like "God, this is the worst elevator ever!"

We've tried to explain that it's not okay to use the words "Jesus" and "God" in that context, and his immediate response was, "But in Christmas songs they say 'Jesus' and 'God!'" So then we tried to explain that it's okay to talk about Jesus and God if you're talking about the entity/person, but not if you're complaining about something. But as you know, Jesus/God is a very nebulous entity...and Theo is a very concrete, literal thinker. Not only does he not grasp the concept of Jesus/God, even in simple terms, but he doesn't make the distinction of talking about the person versus using the name in vain. So, exhausted with trying to explain this, we finally just said, "Those are church words. It's okay to use them in church, but nowhere else." We don't actually go to church, so this shouldn't really be an issue. But of course, it is....

So today, in the car, Theo announced, "I need to go to church so I can use my church words."

"No, you don't," I replied. "Just don't use them."

"Well, if an elevator breaks, I can use them!"

"No. That's not okay."

"Why?" Theo demanded.

"Because," I replied. "Jesus would feel sad if he heard you using his name to complain about something." (Seriously, I was out of ideas for how to get him to understand the problem with using those words in the way he was.)

"But Jesus is a ghost!"

"Well, true. But he can still feel sad. And we don't want that."

"But I can use those words in church!" Theo declared.

"Yes, but not to complain about something. You can talk about Jesus the person, but it's not nice to say 'Jesus!' when you're upset about something."

"But it's okay in church!"

"Not if you're complaining."

"But Mommy, if I'm in church, and the elevator breaks, then I will say, 'Jesus!'"

At that point, I counted the minutes until bedtime and resolved to find a new way to try to explain this. Not that I'm having any success yet....

The Literal Child, Part II

Theo is fascinated by wheelchairs. Yesterday, at the farmers' market, we saw a man in a wheelchair, and Theo kind of sing-songed, "That's man's in a wheelchair!" I immediately pulled him aside and explained that it wasn't nice to say that. Knowing that Theo is very literal, I tried to explain carefully the problem. "Most people who are in wheelchairs don't want to be in wheelchairs. They'd rather be able to walk like you and me. So it can make them sad and hurt their feelings if you talk about them being in a wheelchair. Instead, you should just say 'hi,' like you would to any person."

Theo thought for a moment and then said, "Okay, Mommy. The next time I see that man, I will say, 'Hi! You're sad because you're in a wheelchair!'"

Oh dear. Not quite...

The Literal Child, Part I

The other day, Theo was listening to "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and the line "All of the other reindeer / Used to laugh and call him names" came on. Theo wanted to know why the other reindeer would've called him "Names" instead of "Rudolph." :-)

And the Winner Is...

Good news! Chris has won a prestigious award! The award coveted by all parents! That's right, he won the title of "Worst Parent Ever," courtesy of Theo! The offense? Not putting up Christmas lights on our house. Apparently, "Santa was very, very disappointed."

Nice work, Chris!

Hair Care

Our van smelled like Mexican food today, thanks to some leftovers from lunch. However, I wasn't terribly flattered when Theo climbed in and announced, "Boy, it smells in this van! I think it's your hair, Mom!"

Evidently, being too busy to wash one's hair results in a coif that smells like pinto beans....

Who REALLY Lives in Retirement Homes

Last week, Theo's kindergarten class took a field trip to a convalescent hospital. A few days before the trip, Theo announced, "Mom, on Wednesday I'm going to go see dead people with my class!" I quickly corrected him: "Oh no, honey, they're not dead! They're old, but they're not dead! And it wouldn't be very polite to talk about them being dead, because they're still alive." Theo quickly replied, "Okay, Mommy. They're alive. Like the dinosaurs."

Oh dear...

Escalator Maintenance

Last weekend we went sledding on a manmade sledding "mountain." The owners had thoughtfully put in a "people mover" escalator-type thing to assist sledders in getting up the mountain with their heavy innertubes. I thought the people mover would be Theo's favorite part, given his great love of escalators, but he informed me that "this isn't the best escalator, Mom. It's bumpy." Then later, the people mover had a slight malfunction and stopped, and he announced, "I think they need to recalibrate it, Mom." He may actually have been right, though it was amusing to hear the five-year-old spewing escalator maintenance tips!

Rules Police

For whatever reason, Theo occasionally slips into the role of the Rules Police. Which can be slightly embarrassing. The other day, we were in the BART station, waiting for the train, and he pointed to a woman with a stroller and yelled in horror, "HEY! That woman took a stroller on the escalator!!!" Which actually is somewhat foolhardy and against the rules, but I'm not sure she needs to be policed by a five-year-old.

Later the same day, we walked by a no-smoking area where someone was violating the rules, and Theo pointed and said loudly, "That man is smoking!!!" Again, he was right, but I'm not sure he needs to be the Tobacco Police.

Sergeant Theo, reporting for duty!

It Takes So Little to Thrill Me, Apparently...

Yesterday morning, apropos of nothing, Theo cheerfully announced, "Mommy, if my p*nis hurts on Thursday, you will be thrilled to take me to the pharmacy and have me pee in a cup!"

Uh, yeah. Okay. I think "thrilled" is overstating it, but sure.

Upon My Death...

Conversation with Theo yesterday morning:

Me: Theo, I don't want you watching JimLeeElevatorMan on YouTube anymore. You can watch DieselDucy, but not JimLeeElevatorMan.
Theo: Why?
Me: Because I don't like the words he uses.
Theo: I can watch him when I'm 18.
Me: I suppose you can.
Theo: Yeah, me and Sam will go in my room and lock the door and watch elevator videos from JimLeeElevatorMan when I'm 18!
Me: Well, we don't have locked doors in our house...
Theo: Or I can watch them when you're dead, Mom.

Um...true, I suppose. Heart-warming to know that he's already planning out his activities for when I die...

Airport Security

Last weekend, we had to drop Chris at San Francisco Airport for his flight to Philadelphia. Theo was very upset, as he likes his dad to be home every night. He tried so hard to be brave, but I turned around as we approached the airport to see silent tears streaming down his face. Broke my heart! We managed to distract him with talk of airports, and one thing he wanted to know about was why people sometimes get their bags searched in the airport. "Well," I said, "there are certain things you're not allowed to bring on planes. Guns, knives, scissors... And the security people sometimes check your bags to make sure you don't have any of those things in them."

I figured that was the end of the discussion, and we dropped Chris off with a few tears from Theo, but he held it together okay. However, as we were driving on the freeway about five miles from the airport, having already dropped Chris, Theo suddenly yelled, "Make a U-turn!"

"Why?" I asked.

"You need to make a U-turn right now, Mommy! Take me back to the airport, and drop me off! I am going to walk into the airport, and I won't bring a knife, and I'm going to get on that plane with Daddy!"

Good to know he won't be bringing forbidden items with him on his business trip....

Truancy

Theo's latest attempt to get out of going to school:

Me (perusing the Parks and Rec catalog): Oh, they DO have a basketball class! (Theo has been asking to do one.) But shoot, it's in the morning, while you're at school....
Theo: Well, maybe I should just not do school!
Me: You have to do school, bud. Sorry...
Theo: But I want to do basketball instead. I'm just going to shut the school down!
Me: Really? How?
Theo: With caution tape. I'm going to go to Firestation 6 and say "Hi, I need some caution tape, please!" And then I'm going to wrap it around the school.

At least he's going to pull this off by semi-legal means, I suppose....

Another Clever Solution

Theo doesn't particularly like school. There's no tears or drama, and I think he likes his school as much as he'd like any school, but he's not a huge fan, and he'll try any trick in the book to get out of going. Last night's was a creative new one, though. Chris was feeding the boys dinner and asked me if I was going to work. "Sort of," I said. "I'm going to read that autobiography while I take a bath. I didn't have time to shower before I took Theo to school, and then I was busy with Sam's therapy appointments." Theo chimed in with, "See, Mom, THAT is why I don't like to go to school! I want you to be all nice and clean and shiny!"

Nice try, buddy, but your stinky, unwashed mama is still going to take you to school.

That's One Solution, I Suppose...

Theo was looking forward to a play date with his best friend, Gavin, a few days ago, and he was very upset to learn that Gavin had to cancel because he and his mom had to go to the airport to pick up his dad. His solution was a rather extreme one that probably wouldn't go over too well:

"Me and Gavin are very frustrated about this, Mommy! Can you text Courtney [Gavin's mom] right now and let her know that I'm shutting down the San Francisco airport so we can have our play date?"

I asked him how he planned to go about shutting down the airport, and he replied that the airport was going to give him a giant fence to put around it. Clearly, he has an in with the Powers That Be at SFO...

Housekeeping Clearly Isn't My Strongest Skill...

Happily proclaimed by Theo upon finishing dinner: "Wow, Mommy, thanks for cleaning up the kitchen! There's actually a place for me to put my plate on the counter!"

Yes, child, I realize this is a rare occurrence....

"Fowl" Language Prohibited

Theo announced he's not going to school tomorrow. After some detective work, I have uncovered the reason why: Evidently he is losing his recess tomorrow, and this doesn't please him. However, his teacher told him he has to live with it, as his other option was a trip to the principal's office. The infraction? Excessive gobbling like a turkey during class. 

They were working on a Thanksgiving craft at the time, so at least he's on-topic. 

That Five-Year-Old Attitude

In general, I like the age of five. I did not like the age of four very much. Don't get me wrong—Theo did and said a lot of endearing things when he was four. But it was a long year filled with a lot of battles. It was exhausting. In general, I much prefer age five. He's more mature now...more willing to cooperate...less combative...most of the time. Emphasis on most...

Me (attempting to end some sort of ridiculous argument that I don't even remember the point of): ...and that's it, Theo. We're not going to talk about it anymore!
Theo (in the snotty tone of a teenager): Why?
Me: Because I said so, and I make the rules.
Theo: No, you don't make the rules, Mommy.
Me: Yes, I'm quite sure that I do.
Theo: No, Mommy. I am changing it. I am changing it, and you don't make the rules. I make the rules, and the rules are whatever comes out of my mouth!

Good lord. That's a scary thought right there: a world where the rules are whatever comes out of Theo's mouth. God help us all...

I Should've Left Well Enough Alone

We try to encourage Theo not to use unkind or impolite terms. But sometimes it backfires...

Theo: This is stupid!
Me: Theo, don't say stupid; it's not a nice word.
Theo: Okay, Mommy. This is ridiculous, dammit!

Hmmm, maybe "stupid" was actually a better choice after all...

The Definition of a Wife

The other day, Theo asked me what a wife is. I didn't really know how to answer (a wife is a lot of things, really!), so I defaulted to, "What do you think a wife is, Theo?"

He replied, "Um...a worker."

Well, yeah, that's pretty much true, isn't it? :-)

Theo Takes Charge

Last week, Theo uttered this:

"Mommy, when Sam is four and needs a timeout, I'll make sure he doesn't have the iPad. Because I'll be in charge by then." 

Um...yeah. Because at the ripe old age of 7, evidently you get to be in charge.

Gender Crisis

Theo was interrogating me about the feminine-product vending machine in the women's room the other day. And although I'm generally a fan of full honesty with kids, that was not the day I wished to explain the menstrual cycle to my son. So I finally said, "No, you can't use it. It's not for kids; it's for women." Theo stared at it and said wistfully, "I wish I could be a woman...."

Oh, my son, if you only knew that you were basing that statement on the very LEAST appealing part of being a woman....

Prison for Elves

We have a rule that Theo has to stay in his room until 6:45 a.m. If he wakes up early, he can turn on his light and read or play quietly, but he can't come out and roam the house. (He's noisy, and some of us in this house value sleep. Not Sam, though. He'd be happy to have a playmate anytime after about 4:00 a.m.)

Anyway, the other day I went into Theo's room to bring him his school clothes, and I found him building with blocks. "Cool!" I exclaimed. "What are you building?"

"This is Santa Claus's house," he said, gesturing to the structure in front of him.

"Oh, neat. And what's that one?" I asked, pointing to the smaller structure to his left.

"That's JAIL!" he growled, in his best "scary man" voice.

Ah, interesting. I didn't know there were jails at the North Pole. I guess even the elves can get out of line sometimes.

The Silent, Stealthy Peanut

The tiniest peanut in the house, 21-month-old Sam, doesn't say much yet. He can say "mama," "dada," "up," and "buh-bye," but that's about it. However, he can say a lot with no words. Witness this scene:

In it, he says, "Mom, you were in the shower, and I was really bored. Look what I did!"

Legal Battles

Yesterday:

Theo: But I don't WANT to go to school!
Me: Sorry, buddy, you have to.
Theo: Why?
Me: It's the law.

Today:

Me: Theo, if you don't go potty, I guess you won't be able to go to school and get your award...
Theo: You HAVE to take me to school, Mom. It's the law.

Always fun when they throw your words back at you and beat you at your own game.

Literary Scholar?

I ordered Theo a set of 20 science/nature-themed mini-books from Scholastic. They arrived a couple of days ago, and I unwrapped them today. I handed him the first one and said, "Hey, instead of me reading it to you, why don't you try reading it to me? I bet you can recognize some of the words." He promptly read the entire book to me. And the next three in the series. While Chris and I sat there in somewhat stunned silence. We knew he was recognizing a lot more sight words lately, but we didn't know he was actually reading. "Theo!" I exclaimed. "You've been working so hard! I didn't know you could read books by yourself!!" He just looked at me calmly and replied, "Yeah, well, Mom...I *am* in kindergarten." Of course. They're probably starting War and Peace next week.

Intelligence

It's a good thing I have a thick skin. This morning, Theo and I had this conversation:

Theo: Mommy, Mrs. Jacobson [his kindergarten teacher] is very smart. She's smarter than you.

Me: She is smart. But what makes you say she's smarter than me?

Theo: Well, she's a teacher, so she's very, very smart.

True enough, though I am a teacher, too. I guess he forgets that. :-)

And then later today:

Theo: Mommy, Liz [his babysitter] is much smarter than you.

Me: What makes you say that?

Theo: She has better bread than you do.

Hmmm. Well, he's got me there. I make him eat nasty, gross gluten-free bread, and Liz gave him delicious, pillowy soft bread for his PB&J. Clearly she is smarter!

Artistic Sensibility

Theo doesn't really like school all that much. He likes parts of it, but in general I think he mostly just tolerates it. I was amused by his latest tactic to get out of school:

"Mommy, I'm going to tell you this one time. I am an artist, and artists don't go to school."

That would be much more believable if he actually liked doing art....

Everybody Loves Ice Cream...

...but maybe not these flavors....

At soccer today, the kids were doing a drill where they had to dribble the ball over to some cones, pick up a cone, place the ball on top of the inverted cone, and run back to the coach with it. This cone-with-ball-on-top was supposed to be an "ice cream cone," so all the kids were running back to the coach and saying, "I brought you chocolate ice cream!" "This one's vanilla!" "This is blueberry ice cream!" All tasty, yummy flavors. Except my kid, who ran up proudly with his "cone" and announced, "I brought you toilet flavor!"

As if that wasn't enough, he ran back with a second "cone" and proclaimed, "This is beer ice cream!"

Oh, Theo...never a dull moment!

Fred Astaire

Theo has a tendency to talk like a 50-year-old man. Such was the case today, when he mused, "I used to be quite the dancer back in preschool...."

Ah yes, those golden years back in preschool, so very long ago...

Every Problem Has a Solution

The other day, we were sitting in traffic on the way to Theo's school, and he spied a DVD player showing a Curious George video in the minivan in front of us.

"Mommy! They have TV in their car!" he exclaimed.
"Uh huh," I replied.
"Can we have TV in our car?"
"No," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because we don't need TV in our car."
"Why not?" he repeated.
"Because you get plenty of chances to watch TV at home. You don't need to watch it in the car, too."

He dropped it at that, and I was relieved not to be nagged any further about it. About 10 minutes later, he announced, "Mommy, I had a dream about Grandma Diane last night."

"You did?" I said.
"Yes," he replied. She came to babysit me. And you and Daddy and Sammy left. It was just me and Grandma Diane, and she drove me all around in her car!"

I thought that it was rather sweet that he was happily relating this dream where he spent time with his beloved grandma...and then his true motive emerged.

"We were driving all around in her car," he continued, "and she had a TV in it! And then she told me we could put the TV in our car, Mommy! Because Grandma Diane loves to share with me, and she said she would share her TV with me and we could put it in our car!"

Ah. Clever, grasshopper. Very clever. But not clever enough—we're still not getting a DVD player for the car!

Milk Production

Yesterday, I chaperoned Theo's class field trip to the pumpkin patch. Along with all manner of interesting information about pumpkins, the kids learned about cows and milk production. They even got to milk fake cows, which was a big hit! In fact, it has sparked Theo's newest obsession: What can we milk? He tried to milk our pug last night--she ran away in terror, much to his chagrin. This morning, he demanded to know why we can't milk horses. Resigned to the fact that we don't have a cow and there was nothing else available for him to milk (since Zoe was rather uncooperative), he mused, "I need to figure out how to milk myself, Mommy." Then his eyes lit up: "Hey, can I milk my butt?"

I really don't want to think what sort of "milk" would come out of there. ;-)

Decision-Making

We're a pretty gender-neutral household as far as gender roles are concerned. Chris does most of the cooking, for example, because I work in the evenings and he's a better cook than I am anyway! And as for cleaning, whoever gets to it first does it. Handling the boys? Whoever isn't working at a given time does it. We're definitely not a patriarchy...more an oligarchy. So this exchange with Theo puzzled me:

Theo: Daddy makes the decisions in this house!
Me: Um...sometimes. And sometimes Mommy does. Actually, Mommy makes quite a few of the decisions.
Theo: That's good, Mommy. Because you're pretty smart.

I'm not sure whether to be flattered that he thinks I'm intelligent or appalled that his initial impression was of me as the "little woman!"

Paging Dr. Small...

Theo has lately been interested in The Magic Schoolbus, which is a kids' show that teaches kids about...well, a lot of things. One of his favorite episodes is a journey through the human body, where they learn all about how the body fights off illness. And I'm quite sure that must be what prompted him to say to me cheerfully, while I was lying on the floor feeling like death from the flu, "Mommy, your white blood cells are doing such a good job of fighting for you!"

Indeed. Though I wish they would've sped it up a bit. I didn't feel better until Day 9 of this crud....

More About Poop

I've had the flu for more than a week. Not just a respiratory infection, "flu-like" cold, but the actual influenza virus. It was brutal. I haven't had it since I was a child, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I kept waiting to feel better, and when I still felt lousy on Day 8, I finally went to the doctor. But Chris had to work, so I had to take both boys with me. Always an adventure, but what can you do? And actually, Theo was quite good overall. But as we were standing in the check-in line in the reception area, with at least five other people behind us and various other people in the waiting room, Theo and I had the following (LOUD...because, you know, it's Theo...) conversation:

Theo: Mommy, I need to go potty.
Me (feeling like death warmed over): No you don't. You went right before we left the house. You're just bored.  
Theo (loudly): But Mommy, I need to POOP!

I heard laughter from several people as I said, "Oh, um, okay. Thanks for sharing. Can you hold it for a minute? I don't want to lose my place in line."

He held it, but as soon as I was checked in, he insisted that he needed to go and I needed to come in the bathroom with him. I went in the ladies' room but made him go in the stall on his own. He's perfectly capable of going to the bathroom alone—he's just afraid of toilet flushes, so he drags me in there for company. The problem, however, with me waiting in the common area while he's in a stall is that he carries on a running commentary...LOUDLY. It went something like this:

Theo: Wow, that's a REALLY BIG POOP, Mommy!
Me (inwardly cringing, knowing that there was a woman in the next stall): Okay, just finish up, sweetie.
Theo: Mommy, I need you to wipe me. It's toilet paper!
Me: You can do toilet paper just as well as wipies. Just wipe carefully and then flush.
Theo: Wow, Mommy, the toilet paper is pretty clean! There's not a lot of poop on my bottom!
Me: Fantastic... Are you finished?
Theo: In a minute, Mommy. I just want to check out what brand the commode is.
Me: Okay...
Theo: Because you know I love commodes, Mommy!
Me: Yes, I certainly do.
Theo: It's an American Standard, Mommy!
Me: Awesome. Are you finished?
Theo: Do you want to see my poop, Mommy?
Me: Not really, no.
Theo: Well, I need you to flush for me, Mommy...
Me (ready to die and giving up the battle): Fine, fine. Just come out and wash your hands so we don't miss my appointment.

I really don't know how the woman in the next stall didn't burst out laughing. I'm sure it was probably the most lively bathroom experience she'd had all week.

It IS a Selling Point...

Chris and I have started slowly house-hunting. Our buying power is pretty pathetic, so we expect this to be a long process. But we decided to go check out a possible house last Saturday morning. We met our realtor there bright and early at 9 a.m. It was the first time she'd had the pleasure of meeting Theo...and what an impression he made! One of the first things we looked at was the backyard, and Theo looked around and said nonchalantly, "I like this backyard. It's better than ours. There's not as much poop in it."

Well...yeah. Pugs will do that to a yard....

I'm Pretty Sure That's Not Legal...

Good grief, I'm raising a delinquent in training:

Me (to Chris): "Theo's class has its first field trip next week. I think I'm going to chaperone."
Chris: "Oh, cool. Where is it?"
Me: "To some art museum that has an exhibit on habitats."
Chris: "An ART museum? For kindergartners?"
And the little delinquent-in-training chimes in with: "An art museum? Why not a beer field trip???"

Um, yes. A BEER field trip would be very appropriate for kindergartners. We'll just head on up to the Budweiser factory in Fairfield and take the kids on a tour. I keep thinking Theo's going to be the frat boy who shows up at the party yelling, "Dude, where's the BEER?!?"

(The weirdest part about this is that I loathe beer, and I've seen Chris drink a beer exactly one time in eight years. So it's not like we're a big beer-guzzlin' family.)

Don't Mess with His Bacon

The words of a surly, hungry kindergartner:

Theo: How long until my bacon will be ready?
Chris: About ten minutes.
T: Or five...
C: No, it'll be about ten.
T: Listen to my words, Dad. I'm telling you it's five minutes.
C: Theo, your bacon will take ten minutes. You can't alter the laws of physics.
T: Dad, you're not following. Five...minutes... (Drawn out for emphasis cuz, ya know, Chris and I aren't too bright...)

And so he has spoken, and so it shall be...

Not Really the Look I Was Going For...

The other day, I threw on an old Green Eggs and Ham shirt of Chris's and was wearing it while Theo ate dinner. Theo looked at me thoughtfully and said, "I like when you wear that shirt, Mom. You look really handsome in it."

Indeed. I guess I wasn't really striving for femininity anyway....

Let the Woman Take Care of You...

I truly think "Let the Woman Take Care of You" is one of the worst songs ever recorded, but Theo seems to be living by that credo now that he's in kindergarten. I went to Back-to-School Night tonight, and his teacher told me that he's settling in really well socially...but that he has figured out that if he sits back and doesn't do his dreaded handwriting or art tasks, one of the "helpful" first-grade girls will inevitably step in and do it for him!

Clever boy...and why does it not surprise me that it took him less than two weeks to figure out how to work the system?!

Mr. Tact

Today was Theo's first day at his babysitter's house. She's going to pick him up from school and take him to her house for a couple of hours three days a week, while Sam naps and I work. At least, unless he manages to offend her with more comments like this one I heard about when I texted her about today's pickup. :-)

More About Booze

The roads around Theo's school are very busy, because we have no buses in our district. So I insisted that Theo hold my hand while crossing the street, but the gentleman doth protest:

Theo: Mommy, I don't NEED to hold your hand!
Me: Yes, you do. There's a lot of cars here.
Theo: But YOU can cross without holding someone's hand!
Me: Yes, because I'm a grown up.
Theo: But I'm 21! The people at Starbucks think so! 
Me (laughing): That's because you ACT like you're 21. But you're really 5.
Theo: I am not! I'm 21! I'm drinking beer and wine RIGHT NOW, Mommy!

Ah, alcohol before school: breakfast of champions.

Dr. Theo

Theo has decided he's fed up with my ongoing GI problems, which make eating out difficult. This morning, he announced, "Mommy, I am going to turn into a monkey, and I am going to fly through your mouth down into your tummy with a special bird feather. Then I am going to tickle inside your tummy with the feather, and then it will be all better, and you can eat gluten again!"

I think the celiacs of the world will be delighted to hear about this new treatment....

I'm THAT Mother...

Good grief. Theo just can't make a quiet first impression, can he? Today was his meet-and-greet for kindergarten, so we got to meet his teacher and classmates, as well as their parents. Never one to hide in the background, Theo strolled up to a group of students and their parents and announced loudly, "These kids probably don't drink wine, but I do! I like to drink wine."

I'm pretty sure my face turned as red as...oh, a nice merlot. Which I swear my child has never tried!

Technology and Drinking Buddies

Theo was in a cranky, combative mood the other day (post-vacation letdown, methinks), and the only good thing I can say about his mood is that it made for some amusing utterances. First, he spent quite a while lobbying for a laptop, finally proclaiming, "But I need a laptop, Mommy! All six-year-olds need laptops!"

First of all, he's not yet six (not even close!). Second, I think we need to go over (again!) the difference between a want and a need!

Later, frustrated with the injustices doled out to him by me and Chris, he announced, "I'm 21 years old, Mommy. And Gavin [his BFF] is 20 years old. And we're going to go to the bar, Mommy. And we're going to drink beer and wine!"

Why do I think he's probably got a fake ID hidden in his room somewhere?

He Lacks a Filter

Theo is nothing if not honest...but occasionally I look forward to the day when he has a social filter. That day has not arrived yet, as evidenced by his reaction to a situation a few days ago. He needed to use the bathroom, but someone was in the men's room for quite some time, so I eventually sent him into the women's room instead. (They were single rooms, so I was able to just send him in without me.) After he finished, he came back out--right when the men's room's elderly long-term occupant was emerging. Theo looked right at him and announced loudly, "That man took forever in the bathroom!"

Good grief. The poor guy was probably in there with stomach distress or something. I'm sure he was delighted to have that pointed out by a loud five-year-old!

Vegetarian in the Making?

Theo has a somewhat odd palate for a kid. He loves french fries and Oreos, like pretty much any kid, but he also will pitch a fit if you don't save him any asparagus. This conversation pretty much sums it up:

Theo: Mom, can I have some Brussels sprouts?
Me: Yes, after you eat your salmon. I'll save you some.
Theo (picking at his salmon): How much of this do I have to eat before I can have some Brussels sprouts?
Me: All of it--I didn't give you much.
Theo: But I don't really like salmon. I love Brussels sprouts. Can you just make me some Brussels sprouts instead, Mom?

I love that he's treating Brussels sprouts almost as a dessert--how much salmon do I have to eat before I can get my Brussels sprouts? :-)

The Sad, Sad Life of AC/DC

Theo is a big fan of AC/DC. I am not, as I think their singing is more like screaming than actually singing. It's a point on which we agree to disagree. However, because I don't like them, that makes them extra-cool in Theo's mind, and so he brings them up often. Like this morning:

Theo: Mom, I need to use the iPad.
Me: No you don't. You can use it later, when Sam takes a nap.
Theo: But I want it now.
Me: Nope. You know you don't get to use it first thing in the morning. And if you nag me about it, you won't get it at all today.
Theo: Well, I am just going to scream, then.
Me (sarcastically): Excellent. Then you definitely won't get to use it today.
Theo: Mom, AC/DC must never get to use the iPad, because they scream all the time. I bet they never get to use the iPad or watch any shows. They just stay in their room on timeout all day, every day.

Well, at least he'll be in good company, I suppose....

Yep, I'm Old

Theo will try just about any trick in the book to get more iPod Touch or iPad time. Yesterday's was rather amusing:

"Mom, I need to use the iPod Touch so I can show you some videos, because iPods weren't around when you were a kid."

Gee, nice of him to set aside his own motives and think of little old me. ;-)

So Smart, and Yet...

I realize I'm his mother and thus a bit biased, but Theo is a really smart kid. I mean, really smart. His brain runs a mile a minute, and he makes connections that amaze me. That said, my uber-smart little guy can also be less than bright at times...like this morning....

When Theo was about a year old, a friend got him a toy hammer that makes funny little fake "hammer" sounds when you pound it on things. I recently pulled it out of toy storage for Sam, but of course Theo likes to play with anything that's Sam's, so he's been wandering around with it. This morning, he was trying to hammer on various surfaces to see which ones would trigger the sounds and which ones wouldn't. You have to strike a surface with a fair amount of firmness to get it to work, so he pounded it on the table and said, "Look, Mom, it works on the table!" Then he tried it on the window blinds and announced that it didn't work there. Then he began to hammer his crotch and announced, "Mom, look! The hammer works on my 'peanut'!"

Hammering your 'peanut,' Theo...really?? So smart, and yet...so not!

[By the way, he actually used the correct terminology, but I'm changing it here so creeps trolling the Internet for questionable material don't hit on my blog!]

Well, No One Ever Said It Was Exciting...

Theo, Sam, and I were driving to San Francisco today to meet Chris at his office for lunch. Theo was, as usual, keeping up a stream-of-consciousness string of chatter about everything and nothing. All of a sudden, out of the blue, he announced, "Mom, I don't like turch."And we had the following conversation:

Me: What's turch? You mean torch? Like fire?
Theo: No, turch! It starts with a T.
Me: I have no idea what turch is. Can you explain it to me?
Theo: You know, we went one time and there was a big video screen and lots of songs....

And then it dawned on me: church! Though I was surprised he'd bring it up, since we have taken him to church exactly once--last Christmas Eve, which was eight months ago. We don't attend church, but we decided to go to Christmas Eve mass last year because both Chris and I felt like we owed the big man a thanks for sending Sam to us safely (despite some complications during labor), and because we thought Theo might enjoy the Christmas music. As it turns out, he lasted exactly 20 minutes, and then we left. And that was fine--it was long enough for us to give our thanks.

Me: Oh, you mean church! I can't believe you even remember church....
Theo: Yeah, church. I don't like church.
Me: Why not?
Theo: It's boring, Mom. It's really boring. It's even more boring than school.

Oh. Well, that's probably true. No one ever said church was particularly exciting....

Secret Professions

Although Theo and my Uncle David technically share no blood, my aunt and I are pretty convinced that they must share DNA in some way. They are two peas in a pod in many ways, even if one is five years old and one is in his eighties.

Recently, my aunt and uncle sent Theo some old maps they had been saving (for what, I'm not sure), with the comment from my uncle that "you're never too young to learn about countries changing names!" So this morning, Theo was perusing a map of Yugoslavia with great interest, asking me about the cities and such. At one point he announced:

Theo: Mom, I love maps. I want to have like 720 maps!
Me: That's a lot of maps! Hey, do you know what they call a person who makes maps?
Theo: Yes.
Me: You do?
Theo: Yes. Uncle David.

Aha! My uncle masqueraded as a botanist and teacher for all those years, when really he was secretly a cartographer!

Gender Preferences

Theo and I had an interesting conversation this morning. He has lately been obsessed with the song "Mamma Mia" by ABBA, so we were listening to it for the millionth time when he remarked:

Theo: Mom, I like the boy ABBA singers better than the girl ABBA singers. [If you're not aware, ABBA consists of two male and two female singers.]
Me: Oh. Why?
Theo: Because I'm a boy, so I like the boy singers best.

I explained to him that regardless of being a boy, he can prefer either male or female singers, and I mentioned that Grandma Diane, who is a girl, prefers male singers. But what was more interesting to me was the fact that he even noticed that ABBA has two male singers—they harmonize pretty well, so it's not terribly apparent that it's two male singers in the male parts. He has such an ear for musical details!

Above the Law, Part II

The fact that the law applies to him frustrates Theo. That was evident this weekend when we had the following conversation:

Theo: Mom, why does Theo the Boss have to sit in a car seat?Me: Who's Theo the Boss?Theo (very seriously): Me. That's my name. I'm the boss. So why do I have to sit in a car seat?

But all discussions of safety and the law aside, WHO PROMOTED HIM TO BOSS?!?! Dear god, help us all....

Above the Law

Theo desperately wants to be above the law. That was evident this weekend in his very creative solution for avoiding jail time:

Theo: I wish I was an astronaut....Me: Ooh, that sounds fun!Theo: Yeah, I want to be an astronaut so I can pick up an asteroid and throw it at the jail! I'm going to throw asteroids at all the jails!Me: Interesting. Why do you want to throw asteroids at the jails?Theo: So I can knock down all the jails and the police can't put me in them.

I see. Well, that's one way to avoid jail time, I suppose....

Bathroom Habits of the Elderly

This morning, Theo went into the bathroom with the Local section of the paper clutched under his arm and shut the door. He emerged several minutes later and announced, "Mom, most people don't read in the bathroom, but I do. I like to read the news while I poop. It gives me something to do while I'm in there." 

I see. Evidently I'm raising an 80-year-old man. So I replied, "Well, did you find any interesting news while you were in there?"

"Yes, I did," he replied, opening the Local section to a specific page. "Look at this puppy." 

Ah. Eighty-year-old man meets five-year-old boy who loves puppy pictures. Love it!

Christmas Wishes

Theo has already started to think about what he wants for Christmas this year, evidently. He informed me yesterday that "we need to tell Santa Claus to bring me a belt for Christmas!"

Why a belt, you ask? Why, to hold up his elastic-waist denim shorts, of course. It's quite stylish!

Fun with Words

Lately, Theo is experimenting with new words...with some success. Emphasis on "some." Yesterday, for example, I was out of patience with him for being noisy while Sam was trying to take a much-needed nap, and I said, "If you wake your brother up, I will be furious!" He misheard that as "serious," and for the rest of the day kept applying the word "serious" to anything that annoyed him, as in, "I was serious with the McDonald's drive-through for forgetting my fries!"

More amusing was his attempt to cast judgment on Starbucks the other day. We were visiting Grandma Diane, and we decided we'd go through the Starbucks drive-through to get a treat for Grandma Diane and me. Only Theo didn't want to go, since there was nothing in it for him. So he announced, "Mommy, I do not want to go to Starbucks! It's not any fun for me! Starbucks is boring, and it's unique!"

I have no idea what word he was going for there, but I had to laugh, since Starbucks is anything but unique! I mean, I love their coffee, but it's certainly not unique--more like ubiquitous!

The Interview

I've been looking for a babysitter for Theo--someone who can pick him up from school three days a week and keep him for a couple hours while Sam naps and I work. Today, we went to meet a woman who is interested in doing it. I was all prepared to ask her some questions, but as it turns out, Theo had it covered. When we got to her house, I said to him, "Okay, Liz might pick you up from school and watch you a couple days a week. So we're here to see whether you like her and you think you want to play at her house with her kids. They're sleeping right now, so you just need to keep your voice quiet. You can talk to Liz, but you need to do it in a quiet voice."

Mr. Loud Voice did indeed manage to keep his voice down, and given that he's very social, I knew he'd want to talk a bit to her. But I wasn't expecting a full-on interview! Before I could even get a word in edgewise, he had interrogated her:

"What's your name?"

"Where are your kids?"

"What are your kids' names?"

"How old are your kids?"

"Why are they sleeping?"

"They're sick? What's their temperature?"

"What temperature is it in here?" 

"Do you have any pets? Where are they?"

"Your cats are outside? Why aren't they inside?"

"Are they hot outside?"

"They found the shade? Where did they find shade?"

"What time do your kids wake up?"

"Where is their bedroom? How many bedrooms do you have in this house?"

I'm not kidding. And there were more questions than that--those are just the only ones I can remember. Liz wore the same expression that many adults who meet Theo wear: puzzled amusement. She answered all of his questions, and they had quite the nice chat.

The funny thing is, she has so many toys (she has twin boys and watches a couple of other kids on occasion), and Theo had very little interest in playing with them. Instead, he just wanted to interrogate Liz. This shouldn't surprise me, though--he really is like a little old man sometimes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mad Skills

Theo can be oddly complimentary at times. Like today, when Chris was taking a leisurely 10 minutes in the bathroom, and Theo was anxious for him to be done. "Mom, you're really much better in the bathroom than Daddy is."

Translation: Mom, you don't spend an eternity in there reading the news on your iPhone.

Still, I'm pretty proud of my accomplishment here. I think I'm going to put it on my resume.

You Know It's a Good Monday Morning...

...when it starts off with your five-year-old angrily demanding from the bathroom, "MOM! Why is there still poop in my bottom?!"

And while I was eating breakfast, no less...

How to Kick Off an Amazing Concert

Probably Theo's favorite thing to do is pretend he's performing a rock concert. He sets up his microphone, sometimes some pretend speakers or amps, and grabs his electric guitar. Then he cranks up the music, struts up to the microphone, and kicks off his show with something like, "HELLO SACRAMENTO!!" or "EVERYBODY SAY 'HEY!!!!'"

But today was a bit different. Today at breakfast, he asked me how old the Beatles were. Not knowing the answer, I replied, "I don't know—probably about 65."

And so later, after he was finished with breakfast, he set up his concert stage, cranked up "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," grabbed his electric guitar, strutted up to the mic, and yelled, "I'M SIXTY-FIVE YEARS OLD!!!"

Yup. I'm pretty sure that's how McCartney kicks off every show these days...

Self-Confidence

Theo has a healthy dose of self-confidence, as evidenced by this remark he made during our morning walk:

"Mom, the sunshine makes me even more handsome."

Indeed...

And Then This Happened...

The littlest peanut may not talk yet, but that doesn't stop him from expressing himself.

How to Win Friends and Influence People, Part II

On his second day of swimming, Theo continued his trend of making amusing remarks to his instructor. Among my favorites:

Teacher Karen (hoping to make a point about using "listening ears" in the pool): And do you remember what we said about our ears, Theo?
Theo: Um...they have a lot of wax in them.

And:

Theo (inspecting a broken pool toy): Why is this broken?
Teacher Karen: Oh, I can fix it....
Theo: It's cheap.

I think what's so darn amusing about Theo is that he says this stuff completely matter-of-factly, without any sense of being a smart aleck. He is making an honest, straightforward statement about things when he tells his teacher that our ears have a lot of wax in them, that her pool toys are cheap, that old people fart a lot, etc. Which makes it all the harder not to laugh when he comes out with this stuff!

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Theo has an incredible charm--he really just draws adults in when they meet him. His new swim teacher is no exception. She looked momentarily confused and then burst out laughing when, shortly after meeting her, he announced, "Yeah, old people make a lot of putts [farts]."

And then at the end of the lesson, I told him to take off his swimsuit and we'd put on dry pants, and he announced, "You don't take off your pants in front of people!" I agreed that this was usually true, but his swim teacher and I were the only ones there (well, and Sam), and it was okay this time because I told him he could. He promptly replied, "But you do NOT take your pants off in Starbucks!"

Indeed. Rules to live by. His teacher, trying not to laugh, seemed to agree. :-)

How to Kill a Spider

We've been overrun with spiders lately, and I happen to have a touch of arachnophobia. So naturally, I screamed when I went to pull something out of the hamper and a sizable spider scrambled up and tried to crawl on my hand. Theo leapt into superhero mode and donned a pair of my large tennis shoes. "I know how to get the spider, Mommy!" he announced. Seeing his large footwear, I assumed he was going to step on it. "Oh, you do?" I replied. "Yes! We'll put a booger on it!"

Okay, that's a tactic I hadn't considered....

How to Care for a Baby

Evidently, Theo is the authority on baby care, as demonstrated in this conversation from this morning:

Theo: Mom, I know how to take care of Sammy.
Me: You do, huh?
Theo: Yes. I do, but you and Daddy don't.
Me: Really? I think Daddy and I are pretty good at it.
Theo: I hug and kiss Sammy and talk to him. I know how to take care of him.
Me: Ah, those are all good things--but you do realize that Daddy and I do those things for Sammy too, right?

I'm not sure what Theo thinks we do for Sam, but evidently it doesn't involve nearly enough kissing, hugging, or talking to him!

Why Theo Must Live

Conversation with Theo this morning:

Theo (pointing to a bottle): What's that?
Me: Pine-sol. It's poison, so leave it alone.
Theo: Don't ever, ever drink that, or you'll die!
Me: That's entirely possible, so good plan--don't ever drink it.
Theo (matter-of-factly): Yeah, I don't want to die. People love me. They love my curly hair. I can't die.

He has a healthy self-image.  Though I corrected him and told him that people love him because he's such a nice little boy, and the curls are simply an added bonus....

Special Occasions Deserve Poison

Theo: Mom, what are you doing?
Me: Cleaning the bathroom.
Theo: Can I help??
Me: Sure--you can wash the mirror. Here's the Windex and a paper towel.
Theo: Is Windex poison??
Me: Yes, so be careful where you spray it.
Theo: Oh boy, Mom! It's a very, very special occasion today! I get to use poison!! 

The things that thrill five-year-olds. He was so excited to "use poison" that he completely forgot I had promised him some iPad time. :-)

Well, They ARE Called Potato Bugs...

Today, we encountered a roly-poly on our walk.

Me: Theo, look! A roly-poly! Have you seen one of these before?
Theo: No. What is it?
Me: It's a little bug that rolls itself into a ball when it gets scared. It's also called a potato bug.
Theo: Well, can we eat it?

Hmmm, perhaps in some cultures...

He's So Good for My Self-Image

Theo's been afraid of a lot of things lately. I'm not sure whether it's a five-year-old stage or what, but various things have been freaking him out. Including, apparently, me. While I was getting the boys in the car today, we had this conversation:

Theo: Mom! Mom, I was so scared!
Me: What? When?
Theo: When you walked around the car, Mom. I was so scared because you looked like a witch!

Hmmm, time for a new hairstyle, maybe? Witch chic is not exactly the look I was going for....

Matters of Interpretation

Last night, we got a firsthand look at how differently a five-year-old boy and a 37-year-old man interpret the same situation.

Theo used to go to bed with no fuss—it was lovely. But lately, he has been coming out of his room a zillion times after he goes to bed. It's always something—a bathroom trip, a drink of water, a question he needs to ask us, etc. To combat this, we first tried the good old-fashioned punishment method: If you come out of your room again, we add five minutes to the time you can get up tomorrow. (He's normally allowed to come out of his room at 7 a.m.) That didn't work--the following morning ended up having at least half an hour of screaming and protesting.

Okay, maybe we should've expected that: Consequences are supposed to be immediate. So we tried to take things away if he came out of his room after bedtime: Okay, if you come out of your room again, we take away your stars (which project on his ceiling for 30 minutes). That didn't work either—tantrums, screaming, frustration for both Theo and us. No good.

Plan C: Positive reinforcement. Always the best plan, according to "the experts," but it tends to backfire with Theo. Nevertheless, we tried it: If you stay in bed calmly for 15 minutes, we'll come in and read you a chapter from your book. Usually if he could make it 15 minutes, he'd stay in bed after that. Only problem is, sometimes he'd fall asleep before the 15 minutes had passed, and then he'd wake up furious at 2 a.m. and demand that we read a chapter from the book to him. (Naturally, we didn't—but it did result in a lot of fussing at 2 a.m. Trying the "we'll read it to you in the morning" trick didn't work.)

So we shortened the 15 minutes: If you stay in bed calmly for 10 minutes, we'll come in and read a story to you. Only problem is, last night I had to participate in an online chat with my students from 7 to 8. So Chris was in charge of bedtime for both boys. And Sam needed to go to bed right after he put Theo to bed—he was sick and fussy. So we told Theo that Chris might take a little extra time getting to his story, because Sammy was sick and needed to go to bed, and it might take a few extra minutes. And Mommy was working and couldn't be bothered.

You can guess where this is going: Within a few minutes of Chris closing Theo's door and going in to put Sam to bed (which takes about 20 minutes sometimes), Theo was out in the hallway asking for his story. He started very politely, and I poked my head out of the office and said, "You're going to have to wait longer tonight, buddy. Daddy's putting Sam to bed and I'm working. Go back in your room, and I'll send Daddy in when he's finished putting Sam to bed. But you need to stay in your room—I can't help you right now."

That didn't work. He continued to stand out in the hall and demand his story. I decided to ignore him. My students were firing questions at me, and I couldn't be interrupted. Besides, ignoring negative behavior is a valid strategy, right? Most often, they're trying to get attention.

He got louder and louder and more demanding. Chris came out and told him, calmly, to go to bed. Theo demanded his story. Chris calmly told him that he could try again tomorrow night for a story, but tonight he wouldn't get one because he hadn't stayed in his room, which he knew he had to do.

World War III erupted. Screaming. Crying. Demanding his story. Chris held firm and kept repeating that it was bedtime, and there was no story tonight. We've been accused of explaining too much to Theo, so these days we just repeat a simple answer over and over. And so, no matter what Theo tried (and he tried many angles), Chris kept repeating, "It's bedtime. We're not doing a story tonight. You can try again tomorrow."

Finally, Theo angrily said, "I keep saying different things, and you keep saying the same thing!"

Chris replied, "Yes--and what does that tell you?" He was assuming, of course, that the answer would be, "That I can't have a story."

Nope. Theo promptly answered, "That you're not listening to me!"

I see the parenting approach of "keep your answers simple and consistent" means different things to parent and child, in this case!

Healthy Ego

I love the confidence of young kids. Theo's was on full display yesterday, when he met his new bus driver.

Driver: Oh, my—look at that beautiful head of curls! Aren't you a handsome young man?
Theo (very seriously): Yes.

The Ailing "Peanut"

Theo has a urinary tract infection, and he is not happy about it (understandably). But in his world, all he understands is that it really really hurts to pee--and his "member" hurts. Now, Theo knows and uses the correct terminology for anatomy, but because I don't really want this blog post to get hits from perverts trolling the Internet for nastiness, I'm going to substitute the similar-sounding name of a nut for the actual word he used. You can fill in the blanks and imagine how much fun our conversations were today, as we attempted to salvage Father's Day despite having a rather ailing kindergartner in tow.

We headed over to Half Moon Bay to enjoy a cool day at the beach, and our first stop was a farmer's market, where Theo loudly announced, "I don't want to go potty! I don't like my 'peanut' sores! I don't want blood to come out of my 'peanut'!"

After explaining that it's not really polite to talk about "peanuts" in public (and dragging the poor kid into the bathroom, where he screamed mightily while attempting to urinate), we went to our next stop: a fancy-pants grocery store to pick up some food for a picnic lunch. This grocery store had a little cafe area, and several people were enjoying their lunch when Theo came bolting out of the bathroom (where Chris had taken him for yet another pee attempt), ran over to me, and loudly announced, "Mommy, I peed all over the floor! Because that's what you do when your 'peanut' is sick--you pee all over the floor!"

We reiterated the lesson that it's not polite to talk about "peanuts" in public, but Theo doesn't really grasp such things. So after we settled ourselves at a table outside to eat (having decided that it was a bit windy for a picnic on the beach), naturally Theo launched into more "peanut" talk: "Mommy, my 'peanut' says it doesn't have to pee until tomorrow. We'll get my medicine today, and I'll feel better tomorrow. Then my 'peanut' says I can pee again." "Mommy, why is my 'peanut' sick? I don't want to have a sick 'peanut'!" And so on and so forth...

And finally, after spending a nice hour at the beach, we headed for home. And at least we were safely in the car when Theo asked if we could go home, and I replied, half-jokingly, "Soon. First we have to stop at Kaiser to get your medicine so your 'peanut' will be happy again." And he replied, "Yes, Mom. My 'peanut' is not happy. My 'peanut' is very, very serious today."

Indeed. It was not a happy day for "peanuts"....

How Babies Are Made

I knew this time would come eventually. Today, Theo came out with the age-old question: "Mommy, how do you get a baby in your tummy?"

Naturally, he broke this out at a rather inconvenient time (the middle of a parking lot, heading into a store so he could use the bathroom urgently). So I wasn't inclined to get into discussions of eggs and sperm and all that good stuff. Instead, I just said, "That's a very good question, but it's one we'll talk about when you're older. For now, let's just say it's magic."

Never one to let things go, Theo announced, "I don't think it's magic, Mommy. I think it's the baby rocket. The baby rides into your tummy on the baby rocket!"

Certainly, this is a clever idea...and I had to stifle a giggle as I thought about the true delivery method of sperm to egg (at least in most cases). Hmmm, "baby rocket"--a new euphemism for the male anatomy?!

Music Critic

Growing up, one of Chris's neighbors was an older boy named John Ottman. Chris actually had a bit part in one of John's first films--a home movie that included a bunch of the neighborhood kids. John is now a successful composer and film editor in Hollywood, and he recently composed the score for the movie X-Men 2, among others. John's mom, Mary, gave Theo a copy of the X-Men 2 CD, as she knows Theo loves music, and she's rather keen on Theo because he reminds her of John as a boy.
Anyway, Theo wanted to listen to the CD, so I put it on. And he was commenting that at the beginning of the score, it's "pretty, beautiful, classical music--not scary at all!" And then as we got further into the score, he excitedly said, "Now this is scary music, Mommy! I think when this music is on in the movie, it's when the scary men come! What do the scary men do?"
I replied that I didn't know, given that I haven't seen the movie. I said, "You could ask Daddy. I think he might've seen it."
Instead of waiting for Chris to get home, Theo took matters into his own hands and decided that the "scary men" come in and "pull their shirts over their head like this and ROAR!!!"
He may indeed be right. In case you haven't seen the movie, this is apparently what the scary men do:

His Favorite Things...

Whoa, it's been a while since I posted! Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, here's a new post that is just perfectly Theo for you. :-)
This past weekend, Sam and I took a trip to Seattle to visit my best friend. Theo stayed home with Chris, and they had a big weekend full of fun things. On Friday they took a city bus ride, a BART ride, and enjoyed a special dinner at McDonald's and a trip to the bookstore. On Saturday, they made fresh-squeezed orange juice, went to Theo's soccer game and then went to Genentech's huge family/charity event, Genentech Gives Back, where Theo got to see a rock concert (including Train, who he actually quite likes). On Sunday, they went to visit Grandma Kathy and Papa, and Theo got to go swimming and do lots of fun stuff with Grandma Kathy.
So, when I got back on Sunday and heard about all of this, I was surprised when he answered my question of "what was your favorite thing you did this weekend?" with: "Washed the dishes."And he really meant it! Apparently at some point, he had asked Chris if he could wash the dishes, and Chris happily set him up with a sponge, water, and some dishes. And evidently that was the highlight of his weekend.
I'm going to remind him of this when he's about 10 years old and whining about not wanting to do the dishes....

Accuracy in Self-Portraiture

Theo becomes a stickler for the rules when it suits him. For example, the child who will whine and complain about being asked to wash his hands during the day is suddenly an incredibly diligent hand-washer in the middle of the night, if it delays his return to bed. Similarly, the child who doesn't like drawing and who will whip out a piece of artwork in 15 seconds if it means he can just be done with it becomes a slave to accuracy in the human form if it means he can use his current favorite word. Witness the drawing he made while working with his occupational therapist:

Theo (running out to the waiting area to show me his masterpiece): Mom! I drew a picture of me!
Me (immediately noticing a certain appendage but choosing to ignore it): Oh, that's great, honey! Look, it even has your curly hair!
Theo: And a penis!
Me: Uh, I see that. Theo, that's really not appropriate...
Theo (giggling, as he knows this isn't terribly appropriate): Why?
Me: Penises are private. You don't need to put them in your drawings. Next time you draw yourself, you can just leave that out.
Theo: But Mom, I needed to make sure I drew every part of my body. 

Notice that "every party of my body" apparently doesn't include toes--likely because they're not nearly as exciting as penises. In case you're wondering what the scribble next to about Theo's right knee is, he informed me that it's "a bottom" (with further giggling). "I see," I said. "Bottoms are usually attached to you. Why isn't this one?" His only reply was more giggling and, "It's a bottom! I drew a bottom!"

Also notice that there appear to be two penises in Theo's self-portait. I assure you, that is just wishful thinking on Theo's part. After all, wouldn't most men think that two penises is double the fun?!

What a Treat!

I had to have some fasting bloodwork done today, and I have to have a colonoscopy next week. I'll spare you the gory details, but Theo was very interested in why I wasn't eating breakfast and what the tests were for. The conversation came to this:

Me: Today, I can eat breakfast after I get my blood test.
Theo: Why?
Me: They just need my tummy empty when they take my blood. Then I can eat.
Theo: And next week they will look in your tummy?
Me: Yes.
Theo: Will they see your poop? [Because in Theo's world, that would be the height of excitement!]
Me: No. They give me some medicine to clear everything out of my tummy before that.
Theo: And you can't eat?
Me: Nope. I can't eat anything all day on Wednesday or on Thursday morning. Except lemon Jell-O.
Theo (getting very excited and without the slightest touch of sarcasm): That sounds like a real treat for you, Mom!

Yes, indeed, quite a treat. I'll remind myself of that when I take up residence on the ivory throne for several hours next week....

Scheming

Theo loves iPhones and iPads more than...well, just about anything. He has a deactivated iPhone that he uses as an iPod Touch, but we keep it up where he can't reach it, so he can't just sit and play with it all day--he has to ask for it when he wants it. And he needs to use it downstairs--he's not allowed to take it up to his room at bedtime. However, he remembers that one time, when he was 3.5 years old (he's now 5), we gave him an iPod Nano in his crib. The reason? We were moving the next morning; everything in our house was packed in boxes, including flashlights; and the movers had knocked the power out. So we were stuck in a pitch-black house overnight, and Theo was understandably freaked out by that and the fact that our house was in a shambles and we'd be leaving it forever the next morning. So, we relented and let him take an iPod to bed just one time. And we ended up having to take it away because two hours after going to bed, he was still wide awake and playing with it.

In general, he has made his peace with the fact that he doesn't get to use an iPod in his bedroom now. But today, he seized upon an opportunity to try to change the rules. Our conversation went like this:

Theo: Mom, where's Daddy?
Me: On the BART train.
Theo: Why isn't he on the bus?
Me: Because he overslept and missed the bus this morning. He had to take BART to work instead.
Theo: Why did he oversleep?
Me: Because he forgot to set his alarm.
Theo: But he doesn't have an alarm clock.
Me: He uses the alarm on his iPhone. And he forgot to set it.
Theo (excitedly): I need to have my iPhone in my bedroom, Mom! Next to my bed.
Me: No, you don't get an iPhone in your bedroom.
Theo: But Mooooommmm! [Yes, we've reached the stage of the long, drawn-out Moooooommm!] I need my phone in my room so I can set my alarm! I don't want to oversleep! I need to get to my work on time, Mom. I need to go to some meetings. So I need to have an iPhone in my room so I can set my alarm and make sure I get to work on time, Mom.
Me (laughing): Nice try. You always wake up at 7; you don't need an alarm.
Theo (trying a second tactic): But Mom, I need a phone in my room in case the power goes out! So I can listen to music and check the time and set my alarm. Because I don't want to be late for work. I need it for when the power goes out, Mom. It helps me deal!

"It helps me deal"??? What is he, fifteen?! 

Words from the Wise

Some recent wisdom from Theo: "You know what? You should not stuff lots of food up your nose!"

Indeed. Truer words were never spoken...

The Rules

Theo, who is generally a fan of challenging any and all rules, becomes quite the Rules Police when it suits him—like when he's trying to avoid going to bed. Tonight, like many nights, he went to bed and then got up 10 minutes later, insisting he had to go to the bathroom. I wasn't sure whether Chris had made him go before getting ready for bed, and Chris was now closed in the master bedroom, putting Sam to bed, so I couldn't ask him. So, I relented and told Theo to hurry up, go potty, and get back to bed.

"But Mom," he said, "you gotta follow the rules. Teacher Lorena knows the rules."

"What rules?" I asked.

"I'm going to tell you, Mom," he informed me, as he very slowly went to the bathroom and carefully pulled his PJs back up. "First you go potty, and then you need to wash your hands. You gotta wash your hands after you go potty, Mom. That's the rule. And then I'm going to need some lotion, too, because my hands are dry...."

It should be noted that at any other time of the day, Theo will argue loudly if told to wash his hands after going to the bathroom. Because apparently, the rules only apply when they can be used to stall bedtime!

Diarrhea...of the Mouth

Theo has been feeling a little off for several days, but it was nothing we could pinpoint--just generally kind of mellow (very unlike Theo!) and only picking at his food. Last night, he had diarrhea in the middle of the night, so I think we have our answer. But the amusing part of this is his repeated attempts to convince us that he's well and what we need to do. I am currently Enemy Number One for making him stay home from school, so we've had a lot of arguing this morning. Here's a condensed version of some of his clever plans to get his way:

Theo: Mom! I am not sick! I'm feeling very well!
Me: Well, your tummy is sick, and you can't go to school with a sick tummy. It's against the rules.
Theo: Mom! You need to call Teacher Amanda and tell her I am just fine!
Me: Sorry, buddy. No school today. We'll see how you're doing tomorrow.
Theo: Mom! But I want to ride my bus!
Me: Maybe tomorrow...
Theo: But it's Miss Jeannie today! I'll tell you what, Mom. You just call the bus people, and you tell them to reschedule, and Miss Jeannie can come tomorrow.
Me: You can see Miss Jeannie next week. Tomorrow is Ricardo....
Theo: But I want Miss Jeannie! Where's my iPhone? [Runs off to find his iPod Touch and returns with it clutched in his hand, yelling hysterically] WHERE IS MY CALENDAR APP??? IT'S GONE! I NEED MY CALENDAR APP!!
Me (taking the iPod): It's right here--it's not gone. Why do you need your calendar?
Theo (taking the iPod back from me and busily doing something on it): There! I rescheduled the bus! Miss Jeannie will come tomorrow! It's all done, Mom.
Me (trying not to laugh): Okay. Or you'll see her next week....
Theo: Mom! I need to go to school today! I need to play with my friends!
Me: You can't, buddy. We don't want to get your friends sick.
Theo: Yes, I do!
Me: But if you get Gavin sick, he won't be there to play with you on Thursday....
Theo: Well, I will just play with Ismael, then.
Me: I'm sorry, buddy--we can't have you go to school. Maybe tomorrow.
Theo: Mom! I have a great idea. How about we decorate our house like school?
Me: That is a great idea. I'm not sure how we'll do it, but it's a good idea....
Theo: Okay, Mom, you need to call Teacher Amanda and have her bring all the stuff from my classroom here. She needs to bring all the toys here....

And on and on. He's quite sure he can work out this situation. So much for a stomach bug slowing him down, eh?

And Still More Creative Solutions...

I just posted yesterday about Theo's attempts to open a box with scissors, a cheese slicer, and a pizza cutter...and today, he was up to more problem-solving antics. You see, recently his CD player died, so we got a new one. We'd had the Volume knob taped down on the old CD player because he couldn't seem to moderate the volume to an appropriate level, but when we got the new one, we told him we'd let him try it without tape. AND THEN WE WERE BACK TO VERY LOUD VOLUME ALL OF THE TIME!! To his credit, he was good about turning it down when we told him to, but it was still annoying to have LOUD MUSIC BLARING every time we turned around. And he seemed to be having trouble keeping his voice down, too--a problem we've been working on for well over a year. He had made a lot of progress, but with the new un-taped Volume knob, the problem seemed to be coming back.

So, I made the executive decision to tape down the Volume knob on the new CD player. As you can imagine, Theo was not happy about it at all!

Theo: Mom! I do not want you to tape down that knob!
Me: I know you don't, but it's either that or I take the radio away altogether. It's just too loud for my ears.
Theo: Don't take it away! I am just going to take that tape and hide it in the secretary desk and put a big, big padlock on it so you can't get it!
Me: You can't lock the secretary. And besides, I always have more tape. This is not up for discussion, buddy.
Theo: Then I am going to just take that tape off the radio!
Me: Then I will take the radio away.
Theo: No! Don't take the radio away! I am just going to put hand lotion on the radio, and that will take off the sticky tape!

At this point, I was impressed by the ingenuity--he wouldn't take the tape off, but the lotion would, by removing the stickiness. Very clever. Alas, Mama won the battle, and there is tape on the radio...much to Theo's chagrin.