Words to Live By

Uttered by Theo on our walk to school...apropos of nothing.

"Mom, enjoy your life until you die."

He's profound, that one. Or morbid. I haven't decided which.

Alex P. Keaton, Part II

Remember that old 1980s show, Family Ties? Michael J. Fox played Alex P. Keaton, the money-loving Republican son of liberal, semi-hippie parents? Evidently we're reenacting that. Chris and I tend toward the liberal side, but Theo seems to be an Alex P. Keaton in training, as evidenced by his schoolwork. I went to Back to School Night in September, and every kid had made a poster with his or her picture, saying what they wanted to learn. Twenty-five children said English, science, or math. One child said "money." Can you guess who it was?!

Mr. Confident

When we checked out a new sporting-goods store recently, Theo had to ride the elevator.

Theo: Mom, it's a Schindler HT! But it's missing a nameplate.

Me: Then how do you know it's a Schindler?

Theo (completely seriously): Well, Mom, because I know everything.

Confidence is not an issue in this child.

A Good Reason to Have Kids

Theo wanted to buy something at Target but didn't have money with him, so I told him I'd buy it and he could pay me back. But when I went to collect on the debt, he was less enthusiastic.

Theo: You mean you're going to keep my dollars?

Me: Yes, that's how it works when you buy something—the other person keeps your money.

Theo: Well, then I'm just going to marry Ella, and she will have kids, and they can give me money.

Wait a minute—your kids give you money?! I knew there was a reason I had them!!

In Praise of School

As I've mentioned, Theo isn't particularly a fan of school. About two weeks into the school year, I asked him how school was:

Theo: Fine.

Me: Tell me one thing you did in class today.

Theo: Boring work for babies.

Flattery

Some weeks ago, we got our family pictures taken. I put on makeup for the first time in almost a year, and when Theo saw me, his eyes lit up and he said, "Mommy! You look just like...a normal mom!"

I was glad he didn't say "a clown," at least....

Even He Has Standards

Theo: Mom, men and women have different body parts. But everyone has a bottom.

Me: That's true. Did you talk about that at school today or something?

Theo: No, I'm too smart for that. It's undignified.

The Tiny Peanut Speaks

As I've said, the littlest peanut is mostly nonverbal, so he doesn't get much coverage on here. But every so often he voices his opinion. Like when I need to take the trash out instead of reading "My Truck Is Stuck" for the umpteenth time. Then he stomps over to the cupboard, slams the door shut so I can't get the trash out, and bellows "ALL DONE!"

That's One Solution...

Theo has a tendency to not eat his lunch at school...and then be very grumpy due to low blood sugar when I pick him up. So when I nagged him about it for the umpteenth time, his cranky reply was, "Well, if you don't want me to come home with so much food left in my lunch bag, you should pack me a smaller lunch!"

Well, I suppose that's one solution. Although I hardly think the small three items that I pack him constitutes a big lunch....

Inventor

I always have some interesting chats with Theo on the way to school. One morning last month (I'm woefully behind on posting these!), it was about his plans to build a metal detector so he can better search for coins.

"Mom, here's what you need—two things. You need a radio—the old-fashioned kind, not an iPod. And you need a calculator. You turn the radio way up high on the dial—so high that it just sounds like static. Then you connect the calculator to it. Then it will work like a metal detector, so you can find coins." 

Why do I think that in some crazy way, this might work?!

Steep Fines!

Overheard while I was working at Chris was watching the boys downstairs: Negative behavior from a certain first-grader, resulting in said first-grader's father sending him to his room. The angry first-grader then yelled, "Dad, I do NOT want to be in my room! You need to pay me $8,800!!"

No idea of the significance of this number, but it seems like quite a hefty fine!

Job Opportunities

My biggest client closed their doors several weeks ago, so we've had to make some necessary budget cuts to account for the large drop in income. Theo wasn't thrilled by some of them, so I tried to make it into a teachable moment when he grumpily announced that I should just "make more money."

Me: Well, it's not that easy. People need to hire you for you to be able to make money.

Theo: Well, Mom, you could go work at Safeway.

Me: Yes, I could. It's been a long time since I worked at a grocery store, though. I don't have much recent experience.

Theo: Well, then you could go work at Starbucks!

Me: Wouldn't that be fun? But I don't know how to make coffee. I'm not sure they'd hire me.

Theo: Okay, then how about you go work with Daddy at Genentech?

Me: I've thought about that, but you know what? I'd never see you guys! I'd be working all day Monday through Friday, and I wouldn't get to take time off to do stuff with your school. I like to work at home so I can spend time with you and Sam.

Theo: Okay, then maybe you can earn some money by taking the yard waste out to the curb on garbage day.

Me: That's your job. Are you going to pay me?

Theo: Yes. Also, you can make some money raking leaves.

Me: And you're going to pay me?

Theo: Yes. On credit. How much do I need to pay you?

Me: Oh, I think $1,000 sounds fair....

Theo: No, I think more like 50 cents, Mom. Two quarters. That's enough to get you started, Mom.

Good that I have him to look out for my financial future....

Bear Safety

Theo, on bear safety:

Theo: Mom, what if I saw a bear?

Me: Well, we don't really have bears around here. A mountain lion would be more likely.

Theo: But what if I did? What if I was somewhere and saw a bear?

Me: Then you should try to make yourself look as BIG as possible, and make a lot of noise. Don't run, because if you run the bear will think you're another animal, and it might chase you.

Theo: Or I could just use a gun and shoot it.

Me: Well, that's a rather drastic step, but yes, I suppose that is one answer. But you won't have a gun if you're a kid. And hopefully not as an adult, either.

Theo: Well, I could also just distract the bear by juggling.

Indeed. I hear bears are often effectively distracted by juggling children.

Language

Chris: "Theo, stupid isn't a nice word!"

Theo: "I know. I don't say that word. I use other bad language instead."

Um...awesome?!?!

On Conception

Warm fuzzes from Theo on the walk to school a few weeks ago:

"Mom, I was up in the stars since 1763, and then I rode a shooting star right down into your tummy before I was born! But that wasn't my best decision, because now I'm stuck with you for a very, VERY long time."

I sense he won't be nominating me for Mother of the Year this year....

Frozen Frenzy

If you have been around children at all, you've likely heard about Frozen—especially if you've been around little girls. And I admit, it's a really cute movie. But seriously, every little girl on the planet wants to be Elsa from Frozen, I think. And so, on Halloween when I asked Theo what his classmates dressed as, he announced, "Well, there was a very sleepy zombie and a whole lotta Elsas."

I'm not surprised. :-) (He, by the way, was a penny. But not just any penny—he wanted to be a wheat-back penny. Of course. Nothing ordinary for Theo...)

On Mondays

"I don't like Mondays. Mondays are just a roller coaster of blah."

—Theo, on a new school week starting

More Civil Disobedience

One of Theo's main gripes about first grade is that he doesn't like P.E. In fact, he pretty much hates it. They have it twice a week, and when I pick him up on those days, he is unfailingly grumpy and announces, "We had P.E. today, and it was not fun!" 

Last week, he got in "a really big argument" with his friend Eduardo because Theo decided to wage a quiet protest and sit out, rather than reporting to his P.E. number. Eduardo apparently was quite upset by this and told Theo he had to participate. Upon hearing this, I asked Theo, "What did your P.E. teacher have to say about this?" He replied grumpily, "Nothing. I told her I'm not doing it." I said, "Oh, and she was fine with that?" and he admitted that he had actually told her "in his head"...but that next time, he was going to say it out loud.

"I will just tell her that I'm going back to my classroom instead, Mom. I do not like the jogging they make us do. I'm not doing it." 

Best of luck to you, P.E. teacher....

Civil Disobedience

There's a fair amount of stuff that Theo doesn't particularly like about school, but thankfully he has, for the most part, decided to make a quiet and largely respectful stand about it. One of his gripes is that he wants to write in cursive, but they don't teach it in first grade. This galls him. So he recently announced angrily, "Well, I am just going to write in cursive at school, Mom!" And then he stood and stared at me, proud and defiant, waiting for me to have some reaction to his news.

Poor kid wants so badly to "stick it to the man," but he just doesn't know how....

What P.E. REALLY Stands For

Theo is not a fan of P.E. In fact, I think "hate" might be too mild of a word. So it came as no surprise when he said, "Mom, did you know that P.E. stands for Poopical Education?" 

Yeah, that pretty well sums up his attitude about it.

Big Mama

Among the more complimentary things he's said about me recently:

Wine Connoisseur

Theo's science homework as to compare two liquids in bottles. The clear one seemed appropriate given his recent proclamation of, "When I'm 21, I won't drink beer. I prefer wine."

On Indepence

"Well, Mom, I'm going to move out of this house and into a cabin in the woods. I've been living with you guys since 2008, and it's time for me to move on."

Apparently he's a six-year-old Thoreau....

Doing Time

Theo has never been a big fan of authority. His recent sentiment? "Mom, it's like I'm in parent jail right now. That's when you're stuck with your parents for a very, very long time."

Little does he know his "sentence" is only a third of the way up.

The Littlest Peanut Speaks!

Our littlest peanut, at almost three, still communicates mostly through gestures and signs, so he doesn't get much coverage on here. But he's really trying to talk more, and making lots of progress! Check him out!

He Becomes Ever More Like an Old Man

I recently came upon Theo sitting on the toilet, calmly playing Tetris or something on his iPod Touch.  I burst out laughing, as he looked like a little old man, and he looked at me calmly and said, "I don't want to alarm you, Mom, but I use my iPod in the bathroom now."

Apparently. I'll consider myself notified.

Priorities, People

Our budding capitalist appears to have his priorities already....

Things We Don't Do to the Dog

We have two pugs, who often annoy Theo (they can be rather obnoxious at times!), but deep down he loves them. And his love was on full display when we were discussing our itchy elder pug:

Chris: I think Luna has fleas.

Me: Huh. We'll have to do a flea treatment, I guess.

Chris: Yeah, maybe a bomb.

Theo: NO! Don't use a bomb! You can't blow up Luna!!

Yeah, that would be a bit extreme for a flea problem, wouldn't it?

I Don't Think That's the Title Disney Intended

Last weekend, the boys and I decided to have a movie night while Chris was out. I was going through Netflix to see what was available, and I said, "Oh, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang—that's an old one!" Theo innocently asked, "What's Shitty Shitty Good Bang Bang?"

Oh dear. I'm not even going to touch the joke possibilities with that one....

School Music

One of the best parts of Theo's new school is the fact that we can walk to it. So instead of sitting in traffic, frazzled and only half listening to Theo's morning chattiness (because, you know, I have to pay attention to cars and all that jazz), I can walk along with him and actually pay full attention. And some of what he has to say is pretty darn amusing. Last week, he had music class for the first time in his new school, and here was his take:

Theo: Mom, why does my school only do kids' music? Why don't they let us do grown-up songs in music class?

Me: Well, most schools only use kids' music. I guess it's because some parents don't want their kids listening to grown-up music. 

Theo: Well, I'm lucky because I get to listen to grown-up music at home.

Me: Yes, you are lucky....

Theo: That was God's decision, Mom.

Me: That you can listen to grown-up music? No, that was mommy and daddy's decision. Though it was God's decision to make you part of our family....

Theo: Yes, because God knew I needed to listen to grown-up music like AC/DC, Mom.

Indeed. I'm sure musical freedom factors heavily into the Almighty's decisions about families....

He's Not Hugh Hefner, I Promise

And continuing the lines of "embarrassingly inappropriate things said by my first-grader," Theo had his little friend Ella over for a play date on Friday, and as Ella's mom and I were chatting, Theo and Ella ran up to us, and Theo asked, "Hey, can Ella and I go take a shower together?"

As Ella's mom sat trying to stifle a laugh, I awkwardly said, "Um, no. We're playing down here." Theo, of course, wanted to know why. "Well, um, that's just not normally something you'd do on a play date. We're just playing down here." AWKWARD! I didn't want to get into a discussion about this on the spot! And honestly, I'm not even sure what I'd tell him, because I'm quite sure there was no sexual meaning behind it—he thinks it's the height of fun to use the hand-sprayer to shoot water in his mouth and then spit it all over the shower wall, and I suspect he wanted Ella to join in the fun.

But instead he sounds like some six-year-old Hugh Hefner. Oh, Theo....

Cereal Killers

Theo went to day camp over the summer, and it was a largely positive experience all around. However, he did pick up a few things from older kids that I wish he hadn't learned. One is the term "serial killer." He has no idea what this means—he asked us, "Is that someone who kills with cereal?" We told him it's not, but that it's something we'll discuss when he's older, and it's not appropriate to talk about now. Which of course means nothing to him other than probably inspiring him to use the term more often.

So last weekend, good friends of ours offered to watch the boys so we could have a lunch date. When we got back to their house, our grad-school friend said, "He was so good—so polite, saying please and thank you! But he did ask us if we knew what a serial killer was."

"Oh yeah," piped up her husband, "and he wanted to know if he could see our crawlspace."

Good grief, Theo—"Do you know what a serial killer is? And by the way, can I see your crawlspace?" Could you sound any more like a creep?! Thankfully, our friends know Theo and his personality very well and were completely unfazed and laughing about it.

Conversations with Theo

We found one of those "conversation starter" boxes of cards at our rental cottage while on vacation, so we played one day at breakfast. Here's the world according to Theo:

What's the most beautiful body part? Your stomach, because it's full of food.

What's your dad's favorite bad word? Ugly stinky butt! (For the record, I've never heard Chris haul that out.)

When have you argued with your parents? Since I was three years old. (Um, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.)

When's the last time you did something mean? In kindergarten I told my teacher "Fine, fine, fine, what do you want now?" That was rude. (Yes, yes it was.)

What's your biggest pet peeve? Toddler areas. Too many crying babies!

Which celebrity do you think will die next? Jimmy Carter

How much would you need to be paid to spend a year in jail? Just a dollar!

Who's your most annoying relative? Sam! He's always marauding all over the place.

Who would make the best president? Me! (God help us all...)

Beauty and Death

One night in Seattle, we took a hike down to a beach. There was a cliff on one side of the trail, so I cautioned Theo to stay on the inside of the trail instead. "Mom," he replied seriously, "I've got to tell you two things about a cliff. The bad thing is that you might fall off it and die. The good thing is that you get a beautiful view."

Well, yes. Those are both true statements, I suppose. 

Of Course They'd Name It After Him

We recently took a vacation to Seattle, and one of the things Seattle is the home of (besides Starbucks!) is Theo Chocolates. Theo was very excited about that and couldn't wait to visit their factory. Unfortunately, they don't allow kids younger than seven on the tour, but we were able to go into the gift shop. We let Theo try a lot of samples, we bought a bunch of chocolates, and then we were ready to head out the door when Theo turned around and said, 

"Bye! Thank you for letting us visit! And thank you for naming your chocolate after me!"

Because of course it's named after him. He's famous, you know. :-)

 

He Likes to Do the Talking

Whenever I have to bring Theo along to an appointment, he likes to do the talking. And I often let him, because it's often quite amusing, and people seem to get a kick out of it. Plus, he's usually pretty thorough. We recently had to visit an emergency vet for our sick pug, and I have to admit, he summed up the issue pretty concisely the moment she stepped into the room:

"Um, hi. Two weeks ago, our pug Luna ate a $2,000 apricot pit, and today I stepped in her yucky, gross poop with my bare feet."

Yup, that pretty much sums it up.

When the Simple Solution Just Won't Do

Theo has very much wanted to get a set of hand weights, as he needs to "work out and get big guns, Mom." (Guns meaning muscles, not firearms!) So I finally told him if he really wanted them, he could use money from his piggy bank to buy them. And today was the day—I sent him upstairs to get $8 out of his piggy bank while I finished the dishes. A few minutes later, he came back downstairs, looking very serious.

"Mom, I made a bigger hole in my piggy bank. I think we need to fix this. The coins were stuck in there, so I decided to use my sword to get them back."

Because asking Mom for help would've been too simple and logical—this was clearly a job for a sword!

Progress Update

I think it's possible Theo has been around too many download-progress bars. I took him to the bathroom the other day, and he delivered the following running monologue while sitting on the toilet:

"Mom, I have to P-O-O-P. I have about 80% left, Mom. That's my progress, Mom. No, now I have about 19% left. Oh, no...now I'm done. That's it, Mom. Zero percent left. I'm all done with my poop."

Fantastic. Nothing like an incredibly accurate status update on a bowel movement.

On Marriage Equality...

My husband and I support marriage equality, so Theo has grown up with the belief that a man can marry a woman or a man, and the same is true for a woman. However, one of his little friends recently told him, "No, boys can't marry boys!"...and of course, he believes his friend over us. (Sigh...) So we've been doing a little damage control and trying to reinforce the idea of marriage equality. This led to an interesting conversation this morning, in which Theo try to reconcile the tiny bit he knows about the tensions in the Ukraine with his limited understanding of marriage:

Theo: Mom, a boy cannot marry another boy.
Me: That's not true, Theo. Depending on what state you live in, as long as you are an adult and both of you want to get married, a man can choose to marry a man or a woman.
Theo: But Mom! My friend said boys can't marry boys, and I agree with him.
Me (deciding that, because we've already had this discussion a dozen times, it was time for a full explanation): You're not old enough to make that decision yet. You want to know the grown-up truth? Not too long ago, men could only marry women, and women could only marry men. But then a lot of people realized that it wasn't fair to tell adults who they were allowed to marry and who they weren't, so in some states, a man can now marry a man, and a woman can now marry a woman. Some people don't agree with that—some people think men should only marry women, and women should only marry men. But many people—and Daddy and I believe this—think that as long as two people are adults and want to get married, they should be allowed to get married. So the laws are changing, and in many states you can now marry a man or a woman.
Theo: Well, how long ago did that change?
Me: Very recently. Like within the last couple of years.
Theo: And Russia is arguing about it.
Me: No, Russia is arguing about things, but not to do with who can get married in the United States.
Theo: Well, I'm going to marry a girl.
Me: That's fine. When you're an adult, if you want to marry a girl, that's fine. And if you want to marry a boy, that's fine too. As long as both of you want to get married, Daddy and I will love and support you.
Theo: But what if you want to marry someone, and they don't want to marry you?
Me: Then you don't marry that person.
Theo: Is it okay if you don't get married?
Me: Of course! You don't have to get married to anyone, but if you want to get married, it can be to a girl or a boy. You'll understand more when you're older.
Theo: Well, I'm just going to marry Ella, Mom. And I know she's going to want to marry me, too.

Of course. Because who wouldn't? :-)

I Think He's Cussing Me Out

Lately, when Theo gets particularly angry with us, he mutters about how we're "sycophant pinchers," which we suspect is his misinterpretation of "sonofabitch." We have no proof of this, though, so it's a bit hard to punish him for it when we're not certain...and when what he's REALLY calling us is "pinching people who act attentive to someone else to gain an advantage."

It's an interesting insult, for sure...

Guess He Told Me...

A couple of weekends ago, Theo got an epic three-hour timeout. Trust me, it was well-deserved. However, he doesn't agree. Several days later, he told me this:

"Mom, that timeout you gave me last weekend was unacceptable and disrespectful to me!"

I expect a six-year-old to be mad about a timeout—but his eloquence about his displeasure greatly amuses me. :-)

Pizza Field Trip #2

Theo, on yesterday's pizza parlor field trip:

"It was good, Mom. The first bathroom was terrible, though. It had peanuts and popcorn and breadsticks in the toilet."

Um...ewww! What the heck?

Pizza Field Trip #1

Theo, on a recent field trip to the pizza parlor:

"It was good, Mom. They had pizza, and you could play games and watch the Disney Channel if you were interested. But I didn't do much of that, Mom. I sat and watched the news with Ashley. She's 17, Mom...."

He likes the older women. :-)

The Kid Handbook Comes Back

Theo has decided to invoke the "kid handbook" whenever it suits him. (See here for the original discussion of it.) Today, it was to lobby to bring an iPod to day camp with him.

Me: No, you are not bringing an iPod to camp!

Theo: Why not?

Me: Because camp is for playing with your friends and playing outside and doing crafts and having fun with other kids...not for sitting around with an iPod.

Theo: But it's in the kid handbook that I can bring an iPod to camp. I know it is, Mom, because I wrote the kid handbook.

Good grief, imagine a world where Theo wrote the rule book!

The Kid Handbook

Theo was being argumentative and feisty on a recent morning, and I had had it. So when he demanded, "Why are you always bossing me around all the time?" I sarcastically replied, "Because it's in the parent handbook that parents are to boss their children around." Without missing a beat, he replied, "Well, the kid handbook says that kids are supposed to argue with their parents!"

Sometimes I lament the fact that he inherited my snark...

Deep Thoughts on Presidents, Illness, and Death

Theo: Mom, why did Ronald W. Reagan die before Jimmy Carter? Jimmy Carter was supposed to die first!Me: He was? Why?Theo: Because, Mom, Jimmy Carter was president in 1977 and Ronald W. Reagan was president in 1981.Me: Oh, I get it. Well, Ronald Reagan was older than Jimmy Carter. And he was very sick. He had something called Alzheimer's disease.Theo: So he died?Me: Yes.Theo: Am I going to get Alzheimer's disease?Me: I hope not! And definitely not for a long time. People get it when they're much, much older. Theo: Who gets Alzheimer's disease?Me: Well, anyone CAN get it, but usually not until they're very old. You know how Sam has Down syndrome? People with Down syndrome get it a lot...but not until they're 50 or 60, usually. Theo: So is Sam going to get it and die?Me: Hopefully by the time Sam is 50 or 60, they'll have a cure for it. They're working hard to find a cure.Theo: Oh, okay. Well, did Ronald W. Reagan have Down syndrome, then?

I guess I should've seen that one coming, huh?! 

We're His Middlemen

Theo recently started earning an allowance. And the first thing he wanted to buy with his earnings was a coin proof set. We don't have a coin store anywhere near us, so Chris found a set on Amazon for $4 and told Theo he'd order it, and Theo could pay him the $4.

The proof set arrived, Theo paid up, and it's now his prized possession—he even slept with it a couple of nights! This morning, he was telling me about the next proof set he'd like to order. He rambled on for a while and finished up with, "...and you'll need to place the order for me, Mom, because I don't have my own Amazon account yet."

He said it with such authority, as if it's only a short matter of time before he gets an Amazon account. He's also convinced that he ought to have his own Facebook account. Six going on sixteen...

Monumental Aspirations

We recently visited several monuments in Washington, DC, and Theo asked me when there would be a monument built for him. I told him he'd probably have to become president for that, and we moved along. Or so I thought...but today he announced, "Mom, someday there is going to be a Theodore Monument in Washington, DC. It will be three stories tall. On the first floor will be all the books I've written about coins. On the second floor will be a really big eight-track player. On the third floor will be a huge Theodore statue."

I see he's been thinking more about this. The plans are underway, people....

Artisan Jeweler

Theo's been very into making bracelets using the Rainbow Loom at his day camp. However, I'm told the Rainbow Loom is actually rather challenging to use, and I was surprised Theo had the patience to do it, given that it requires a fair amount of fine-motor skill. So when he gave me my latest bracelet, I said, "Wow! You made that for me, all by yourself?!" He replied calmly, "No. I hired someone to help me, Mom."

I'm not sure how he paid this employee of his, but I wasn't surprised to see that he already sees himself as the boss in his fledgling enterprise.

Split Personality

Theo has two very distinct sides to his personality. The other day, they were on full display. First we had this conversation:

Me: Theo, I can pick you up from camp at either 4 or 5 this afternoon. Which would you prefer?
Theo: 5:00, Mom. Because that gives me and Maddy more time to punch each other!

Um...okay. Mr. Prizefighter then proceeded to show everyone who would pay attention the $3 he brought from his piggy bank for that day's field-trip walk to the dollar store, telling them, "I would like to use this to buy my mom a present! I'm going to buy her a candle."

Alas, his sweet idea did not end up happening. The lure of a bow-and-arrow set and a megaphone won out over my candle. A megaphone. Because he's not loud enough already. It's the gift that keeps on giving....

Mr. Romantic

So Theo's in love...with Sam's Early Intervention teacher, BeLinda. Every day, he brings something to show her, and I watch my normally self-assured boy get a bit shy and tongue-tied as he talks to her. Not long ago, after we dropped Sam off, he sighed and said, "I just love Teacher BeLinda, Mom. She makes my heart beat soooooo fast!"

Today is BeLinda's last day, much to Theo's dismay. He made her a card that says "I love you, BeLinda. We will miss you," and he picked out a hydrangea to bring to her. I asked him to hold the hydrangea in the car, and he settled the flowers on his lap and said, "I'm going to add lots of extra love to them!" Then he gently kissed the flowers and said, "Now, when Teacher BeLinda sees these, they will be kissing her because I kissed them."

Good heavens, where does he come up with this stuff?! Perhaps he'll be a romance novelist someday....

His Softer Side

For someone (lately) so into war and weapons and all things "boy," Theo is a total softie when it comes to the ladies. He has developed a crush on Sam's Early Intervention teacher, and every day he brings something new to show her. One recent day when we left, he said dreamily, "I just love BeLinda, Mom. She makes my heart beat sooooo fast. And she makes my eyes fill up with love." 

Police Intervention

We've been on vacation for a couple of weeks, but one morning we had an interesting start to the day after I turned off the cartoon Theo was watching:

Theo (picking up the unplugged hotel phone): I'm calling the police to come talk to you, Mom!
Me: Really? Why?
T: Because you turned off my show, and that was NOT a good choice!
Me: Well, I think the police have more important things to do than come talk to me about that.
Theo: They're just going to send the hotel manager to talk to you, Mom. [Pretends to call the cops.] They'll be here in a few minutes, Mom.
Me: Okay, well, I'll be sure to tell the police WHY I turned off the TV--because you tried to hit me. The police won't be very happy to hear about you trying to hit me. They don't like that....
Theo (turning pale): No!! Never mind! They're not coming! Don't tell them!!

Don't try to outsmart your mother, young child....

Literature and Booze

On the subject of Father's Day:

Theo: What are we doing on Father's Day, Mom?
Me: I'm not sure. I think Daddy wants some time to go read a book by himself, so you and me and Sam will probably go do something.
T: Well, how about I stay with Daddy and you and Sam go somewhere?
Me: I think Daddy wants to read ALONE, with no one talking to him.
T: Well, I won't talk to him--I'll just be reading my books about beer and wine and art.

Oh. Of course...

The Wisdom of Suze Orman

Theo woke up this morning and asked if he could watch TV. I told him he could put on PBS. I wandered downstairs 10 minutes later to find him watching Suze Orman.

Me: Theo, why are you watching this?

Theo: It's PBS. And it's REALLY good, Mom. You and Daddy should watch it! Have you watched it?

Me: Suze Orman? Not really. 

Theo: But it's very good information, Mom! It's about stuff like sending me to college. That's what's important, Mom--not having new, fancy cars and stuff.

Well. I'm glad to see he has his financial priorities straight, but given that our used, seven-year-old base-model minivan is our GOOD car, I don't think there's any worry about us blowing his college fund on a fancy new car.

Brotherly Love

Theo: Mommy, thank you for making a little brother for me!

Me: Oh, you're welcome, Theo. That's sweet...

Theo: Yeah, I can be his boss!

Ah, the truth comes out!

Eau de...???

Theo: Mom, why does your skin smell like that?

Me: Like what?

Theo: Um, like an old bath.

Me: What does that smell like?

Theo: I don't really know, but it's not good. Did you take a bath two years ago?

For the record, I had showered the night before. But evidently I still smelled as if I had last taken a bath two years ago!

And Again, How Is He NOT Already a Teenager?!

More from the sassy six-year-old:

Me: Theo, you need to do 15 minutes of quiet time in your room before dinner.
Theo (after screaming protests fell on deaf ears): Can I leave my door open?
Me: No, it needs to be closed.
Theo: Then I will just ignore you. I ignore people who aren't talking nicely to me.

I guess at least he's honest about it, right? Oy vey...

How Is He Not Already a Teenager?

I've discovered that in our house, the age of six is a very sassy age. Sometimes the stuff that comes out of Theo's mouth reminds me of what I would expect to hear from a teenager. Like this gem:

Me: Theo, you need to go to your room for 10 minutes, and when you come out, your attitude better have improved!
Theo (after ranting and whining about the injustice got him nowhere): Fine! But I'm going to my room because I want to, NOT because you tell me to!

God help me when he really is a teenager!

A Solution to Standardized Testing

No one likes standardized testing, right? Theo has come up with quite the solution:

Theo: Mom, we're going to the computer lab at school tomorrow!
Me: Really? I thought the other grades were still doing testing in there.
Theo (very seriously): No. We're going to arrest them. They're going to juvenile hall.

Well, I suppose that's one way to free up the computer lab—and save the kids from the dreaded standardized tests!

Lofty Ambitions

Recent conversation with Theo:

Theo: Mom, I need to go on your computer. But don't worry--I won't mess up your work. I'll just go on the Finder and write books.Me: What are you going to write books about? Theo: Cool stuff, Mom. You wouldn't know about it.

Yeah. I'm hopelessly uncool.

Business According to Theo

Theo got a $20 Target card for his birthday. We took him to pick out something with it, and he mused, "If I spend the $20, I can just get more money." Chris and I informed him that this isn't how it works—he has $20 to spend, and then it's gone, so he should choose wisely when deciding what he wants. His reply?

"If I spend $20, I'll just make more $20. That's how business works. It's too bad you didn't go to business school." 

As it happens, Chris has a bachelor's in economics. But apparently we still need business advice from a six-year-old.

Fired!

Theo has taken to writing me citations for various injustices that he perceives. For example, if I tell him to stop nagging me, I may get a written citation. However, he has now taken it one step farther. At lunch the other day, he very politely but seriously announced, "I'm sorry, Mom, but you're fired. You'll need to pack your things and be out of here by morning." I asked what I had done to get fired, and he said it was because I hadn't read him his "Beezus and Ramona" chapter before bed the night before. True, true...though in my defense it's because he was acting like a complete savage before bed and lost the privilege. So I'm pretty sure I have a wrongful termination suit on my hands here....

More About Booze

On the way to school the other day, Theo hatched an elaborate plan:

Theo: Mommy, when I turn 21, I am going to stop the UPS truck that carries all of the wine, and I am going to tell the drivers, "Give me that wine!" 

Me: Why?

Theo: Because I like alcohol. [Correction: He likes the idea of alcohol, because it's forbidden. He has never tasted it.]

Me: You don't even know what it tastes like.

Theo: It tastes like grape juice, Mommy, but fermented—kinda bitter. [Hmmm, fairly true...]

Me: Well, your plan is against the law, you know...

Theo: I'll need to bring two wine glasses, Mommy.

Me: What for? [Foolish me, I thought maybe he was going to sweetly share his wine haul with me.]

Theo: So I can drink all that wine faster!

Dear god. A wine-chugger at age six....

How to Get Out of Going to School

Theo doesn't like school—it's a bummer, but that's really just the flat truth. He likes some elements of it, but in general he doesn't like it, and pretty much every day he looks for ways to get out of it. First he thought he might be able to get fired from it, but when he realized that wouldn't happen, he moved on to more creative ways of handling the issue. His homework last week encouraged him to dictate to me a story about a raindrop. Here's his:

"Once there was a raindrop, and it fell from the sky. And then there was big thunder and lots of rain! And I took the roof off of the school so it would get all wet from the raindrops, and then I knocked down the school!"

He's either going to end up in juvenile hall or have a career as a writer. I haven't figured out which yet.

Authoring

So, I recently added author to my list of jobs, and Theo's been talking about how he wants to write books too. Had an amusing conversation on the way to school the other day.

Theo: I'm writing a book, Mom. [Said as he types away on a keyboard he brought in the car.]
Me: Really? Cool! On what?
Theo: It's called "The History of Beer and Wine, 1987."
Me (laughing): Okay... That's an unusual choice for a kid your age.
Theo: I need to know when wine was invented.
Me: Hmmm, I'm not sure, but I'm sure it was thousands of years ago.
Theo: Could you look that up for me?

Evidently I'm now his research assistant. Hope I get a credit in the Acknowledgments for that.

(In case you're wondering, Chris looked it up, and it was supposedly in Georgia (country, not state!) in 6000 B.C.)

Life's Injustices

Theo's big birthday wish was to spend the night in a hotel, so we took him to one after a day of visiting with his grandma, auntie and uncle, and cousins. But the next morning, he was in an emotional tizzy about leaving the hotel this morning. He sat on the couch with tears rolling down his cheeks after realizing that none of his plans for how to stay would work. It was hard to keep a straight face during our conversation:

Theo: Well, I am just going to become president, and I will change the law!

Me: What law?

Theo: To say that you can stay in a hotel for eight days!

Me: You can stay in a hotel for eight days; you just have to be able to pay for it.

Theo: Well, then, you should put Sam down for a five-hour nap so you can work to pay for it! [Clearly he thinks my hourly pay is a whole lot more impressive than it really is!]

Me: It would take a lot more than five hours of work to pay for eight days in a hotel, I'm afraid.

Theo: Well, then I am just going to take all of the dishes and plates and especially wine glasses, because they're very breakable, and I'm going to put them in the bedroom and lock the door! 

Me: Well, how would that keep us from leaving the hotel?

Theo: You couldn't open the door to the bedroom to get me out, because you would break everything! [Hmm, pretty decent idea, but still not a solution.]

Me: Theo, I love you. [I thought maybe some reassurance would help.]

Theo: Yes. And how unfair is it that you don't let me drink out of wine glasses?!

Me (stifling a smile): Tell you what. As a special treat tonight, you can drink water out of a wine glass.

Theo: Why not always?

Me: Ahhhh, Theo! Have you ever heard anyone tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Theo: No. And how unfair is it that Papa gets to take his drink in the family room and I can't?!

After the list of injustices concluded, he moved on to his plans to skip school for the week. Good to know something things never change...and that the hotel was clearly a hit!

Wining and Dining

Theo told me the other day that he wants to date one of his classmates, and we had this conversation:

Me: Really? What do you plan to do on this date? 

Theo: I'm going to take her out to fast food and then a hotel.

Evidently my six-year-old is some kind of low-budget lothario.

Kindergarten Reading

Theo went on a field trip yesterday to an organization that provides books for kids in underprivileged areas. So in the morning, I told him we needed to pick out a few books to donate. "But Mom!" he cried in alarm. "You can't give away my 'Elevator Design and Maintenance 1906' book!" 

No worries, son—I'm reasonably sure you're one of the very few elementary school kids who is interested in early twentieth-century elevator design. I think we can keep that one.

Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor

Theo has reached the very fun age of injustice--you know, "It's not fair!" about everything. I'm not amused. So today we had this conversation. 

Theo: You never get me anything!
Me: Are you serious?! Do you have any idea how many nice things I do for you? I bought you mango today because I know you like mango. I bought you the pretzels you like the other day. Sometimes I get you an apple juice when we're out. I get you a LOT of things I know you like! 
Theo: Well, but you never get me wine or beer.

True. He's got me on that one.

Nasal Hygiene

Theo, as he climbed into bed to snuggle with Chris on Sunday morning, "Dad!! Why do you have fur in your nose?"

Chris was not amused. I, however, laughed like crazy. Of course, I can...I don't have fur growing in my nose.

Four-Year Hiatus

Theo is not a fan of school. This morning, he announced, "Mom, school isn't my favorite. I don't really like it. I want to get fired from it, okay Mom?"

"You can't get fired from school," I replied.

"Why not?" he shot back. "I do work there, and you can get fired from anyplace you do work!"

Hmmm, he makes a good point. He then told me he'd consider going back to school in fifth grade, maybe, but for now he needs a break. Given that he's in kindergarten, that's a pretty long break!

Why I'm Dieting...

Theo has a tendency to ask the same questions every single day, multiple times a day. I think he just wants to talk and runs out of things to talk about, so he reuses old conversations. So, when it's something we've already discussed a zillion times, I usually remind him that he already knows the answer. And usually he does. But sometimes not so much. Like during today's conversation:

Theo: Mommy, why did we move out of our house at 133? [Our old street address was 133, and Theo likes to attach numbers to everything, so he calls that house "133."]
Me: I think you already know the answer to that.
Theo: Because you got too big to fit through the door.

Gee, thanks, kid! I may have put on a few pounds, but not that many!

(In reality, he means that our family outgrew the house, which is actually half of the answer. The other half is that Chris got a new job 100 miles away, so we had to relocate. Neither answer has anything to do with the size of my rear end!)

Presidential Facts

Theo: Mommy, who was the president in 1951?
Me: Harry Truman.
Theo: Actually, Mom, his name is Harry S. Truman.

I stand corrected. By a six-year-old.

Five Going on Forty...

Theo (who just went to the bathroom fifteen minutes prior): I need to go to the bathroom!
Chris: You just went!
Theo: But I need to pee AGAIN, Dad!

Chris: Well, we're on the highway right now...
Theo (completely seriously): Then I suggest you find an exit and get off.

Coaster Junkie!

The littlest peanut still doesn't speak...but he does squeal with joy sometimes! Especially when riding roller coasters. :-)

Um...What?!

Sam's speech therapist, likely expecting the simple response of "a sandwich," asked Theo this week what he was eating. "Bread," he said seriously. "It's very good. But it has xanthan gum in it. Can you eat xanthan gum?" 

She looked rather baffled, then started laughing and said, "I don't even know what that is!" She's the second person this week to have had that response. Theo is apparently educating the world about xanthan gum.

Job Interview...errr, Interrogation

I took Theo for a haircut this week. It was a new stylist. I don't think she was quite prepared for his line of questioning: "What's your name? How old are you? How old were you when you got your first job? What was your last job before this? Why did you leave? What about the job before that? Why did you leave it? How old were you? What job did you have before that? Did you go to college? Why not? How about high school? ..."

Fifteen minutes of rapid-fire interrogation. The woman earned her tip today! And I'm pretty sure Theo has a future as a government interrogator.

He Has High Hopes for Me

Theo greeted me the other day by coming downstairs and announcing, "Well, Mom, I hope you never go to prison."

Uh, yeah. I think it's a pretty safe bet that I won't.

The (Shredded) Rainbow Connection

Theo's school uses a "rainbow chart" for behavior. Every day, each child starts on green--a good day! If the child stays on green for 15 days, he moves to purple and earns extra privileges by virtue of being a "royal eagle." If the kiddo misbehaves, he moves down to yellow--a warning color. If the misbehavior continues, he moves to orange and loses part of recess. And so on. Perhaps not surprisingly, Theo spends a fair number of days on yellow, with the occasional move down to the dreaded orange. Lately, however, he had stayed on green for several days...until today. When I talked to him about it, though, he had a solution. "Well, Mom, do we have a shredder for Mrs. J's rainbow chart? Because I need to make a new chart for her, Mom. It will have just two colors: green and purple. That's all. No yellow, orange, red, or blue. Only green and purple. That's what I need to do, Mom." 

As always, I have to admire his ingenuity. One can never move down into the yellow zone if yellow no longer exists. Clever boy...

Well, That's One Solution...

Theo has a weird dairy allergy. He can eat some dairy just fine. Other dairy makes him break out in eczema and itch. Still other makes him break out in full-blown hives. It's hard to tell what will trigger a reaction, so we mostly just avoid it. Still, sometimes we make exceptions. That's what sparked today's conversation:

Theo: Mommy, can I share one of your potato bites?
Me: No, honey, it has dairy.
Theo: But I can try just a little bite!
Me: Well...I suppose, but you might break out in a rash. If you do, we'll have to put cream on it for you.
Theo: Okay, Mommy. And can you put some of that sour cream on it?
Me: Nope, if you have sour cream, you will definitely break out in a bad rash!
Theo (imitating my exact tone): Well then you can just definitely put cream on it. 

I suppose that is one way to deal with it. Always with the loopholes...

Science According to Boys

I kept Theo home from school yesterday because his ear infection was still painful—plus, Sam was pretty sick, and I didn't feel like dragging him on the 60-minute round-trip drive to Theo's school and back. So, at one point during the day, Theo got out his science kit and decided he wanted to "do science." I watched as he filled two glasses full of water and then took out a large clear-plastic eyedropper thingy and transferred water from one glass to another. What he said next wouldn't have been nearly as amusing if he hadn't been totally serious, like a middle-aged scientist explaining his latest hypothesis. There wasn't a trace of humor in his voice as he carefully explained, "I'm making pee, Mom. See? Watch how I get pee up in the p*nis, Mommy. Now I'm getting pee in the p*nis [the eyedropper]. Then you take the p*nis and make it pee in the other cup, Mom. You see how that works?"

I'm pretty sure he really thought he was inventing some sort of prosthetic p*nis.

[Excuse the spelling—I don't want search engines labeling my site as some sort of adult content!]

To the Dullard...

Theo has a habit of explaining things very slowly, as if talking to a small child, when he thinks we don't understand his point. This would be supremely irritating if it wasn't so darn amusing. He's very polite about it all—it's just clear from his tone that he thinks Mommy and Daddy aren't always too bright, and he should explain things very carefully to us. Our most recent exchange went like this:

Theo: One plus one equals eleven!
Me: Actually, it equals two. Two ones look like an eleven when you write them, but one plus one equals two. If you have one apple and you get one more, you have two apples, not eleven.
Theo (very slowly and patiently): Mom, let me try to explain this better. One and one is eleven. Two and two is twenty-two. Three and three is thirty-three.

On and one he went up to ninety-nine...and then finished with, "Do you understand now, Mommy, what I was explaining?"

Yes, child. I think you got it through my thick skull.

A Matter of Critical Importance

I have to take Sam to the ENT on Friday because the tubes in his ears don't seem to be draining, and he keeps getting ear infections. Unfortunately, due to the timing of the appointment, I have to bring Theo with me. (Dragging him along to a boring doctor's appointment isn't particularly fun for anyone involved. He's reasonably well-behaved, but he's like any bored five-year-old boy confined to a small exam room...antsy.) I told him about this yesterday, and we had the following conversation:

Theo: Mom, are you picking me up at school on Friday?
Me: I am. And then we have to go to Antioch Kaiser.
Theo: Why?
Me: Because Sam's ENT doctor needs to check his ears.
Theo: Oh good, Mommy. I need to talk to her.
Me: You do?
Theo: Yes, Mom. I need to tell her about the boogers in my nose. Why are they there? Why are there so many boogers in there? I don't like them, Mom. And what's up with my ears? I need to ask her that, too.

I can see the ENT will be getting a little more than she bargained for when we arrive. :-)

Combining Efforts

Today's bizarre conversation with my son, regarding Chris's and my upcoming appointment with our estate lawyer to finalize our wills and Sam's trust:

Theo: Mommy, when you go to the lawyer's office, will there be a lot of very old people there?
Me: Not that I'm aware of. Why?
Theo: I mean old people in their boxes!
Me: Boxes? Why would old people be in boxes?
Theo (getting frustrated by my ignorance): Their BOXES, Mommy! Like they're really old, and they look like they're sleeping but really they're dead, and they're in boxes! Will they be at the lawyer's office?

Ohhh. I get it now. Wills = old dead people = lawyer's office turning into a morgue. It all makes sense now. And suddenly I'm creeped out by our upcoming appointment. 

Reports of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Out of the blue, Theo announced matter-of-factly, "Mom, you aren't going to die tomorrow."

Excellent. I have plans for tomorrow. No time to die...

How Batman REALLY Fights Crime

Today, we had a discussion about superheroes:

Theo: Mom, Batman gets rid of the bad guys. He bats them away!
Me (laughing): Well, he does get rid of the bad guys, but I'm not sure he bats them, necessarily.
Theo (perplexed): But his name is Bat-man...

Excellent point. I never thought of his name being derived from the verb form of bat, rather than the noun form!

Seafood Connoisseur

Theo, on seafood:

Theo: What did you guys have for dinner last night?
Me: Sushi!
Theo: Would I like sushi?
Me: You might. I'm not sure. The fish is kind of squishy, and you're not always a fan of squishy foods.
Theo: I don't think I'd like that, Mom. I more like fish sticks. They're crunchy and delicious. And the fish are dead, Mom.

Ah yes--dead. Important criterion with respect to food.

The Dearly Departed

Theo has been somewhat obsessed with death lately. Number one, he finds ghosts fascinating, and he thinks people turn into ghosts the minute they die. And number two, he's just trying to put together a very nebulous concept—Theo is very logical-minded and likes everything to have a quantifiable answer, so a vague concept like death is of endless fascination to him. The other day, we had this little chat:

Theo: Mom, I don't know what RIP means.
Me: It stands for "Rest in peace." You say it when someone dies. A lot of times when people die, they've been very sick, and when they die they're more comfortable. So you want them to feel peace.
Theo (pondering): Like Grandpa Steve. I feel sad for him because he died, but I want him to be happy. So rest in peace.
Me: Right! That would be a very nice thing to say.
Theo: I better say that to Mrs. Jacobson [his teacher] tomorrow!

Um, no. Given that she's alive and well and roughly my age, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to be told to rest in peace!

Drought Relief

We here in California are in the midst of a terrible drought. I don't think we've seen any decent rain since last May—barely a drop, in fact. Everything is brown. But Theo has a solution. "Mom," he said seriously, "if I was thirty, I would just take a big plunger and use it on the sky to pull the rain out!"

Sounds like as good a solution as any, right? Anyone have a big plunger handy?

Camp Fun

The other day, I told Theo that I thought I had found a summer day-camp for him:

Me: Theo, I think I found you a camp for this summer!
Theo: Really? What's it like??
Me: You go every morning until noon, and one day a week you get to go on a fun all-day field trip!
Theo (very excitedly): Like maybe to the retirement home, Mom?!?!?!

Yeah, I don't think the camp is going to be hiring him as the director of activities anytime soon....

I'm #2

Theo's two favorite kids in his class are a boy named Devon and a girl named Sabrina (who, he says with a wistful tone of voice, is "like a beautiful flower"). Devon was out sick today, so we had this conversation when I picked Theo up:

Me: "Who'd you play with at recess today, since Devon wasn't at school?" 
Theo: "Sabrina." 
Me: "What did you two do?" 
Theo: "Just sat and talked." 
Me: "What did you talk about?" 
Theo (very politely but firmly): "Kids' stuff, Mom. It's none of your business."

I see I've been relegated to the position of #2 woman in his life already....

More About Death

A thought-provoking conversation with the five-year-old, as we drove past a funeral home:

Theo: That's for dead people.
Me: Yup.
Theo: But how do the dead people get in there? It has doorknobs. Ghosts can't do doorknobs!

He makes a good point. He also wanted to know why they had a mailbox out front, because the ghosts wouldn't get mail. 

Our Demise

Chris and I are in the process of finalizing our will and related legal documents. Theo asked why I was calling a lawyer, and I explained in very simple terms that we are making sure that if anything ever happens to me and Chris, he and Sam have a place to live. But, I assured him, we plan to be around for a long, long time, so it shouldn't ever be an issue.

Theo immediately asked, "Where will we live?" I answered that he and Sam would go live with Auntie Lynnie if anything happened to Mommy and Daddy, and his eyes lit up as he announced, "When can we go live with Auntie Lynnie?!" I told him probably never, as we plan to be around for a long time. He seemed a bit disappointed.

A few days later, my sister called to wish me happy birthday, and I asked Theo if he wanted to say hi. He did—and he got on the phone and blurted out, "Hi, Auntie Lynnie. When Mommy and Daddy die, you can come pick up me and Sam to live with you. But don't forget to bring my stuffed animals and my bed, okay?"

Poor Theo. He'll be very sad when he finds out that Chris and I aren't going away that easily!

Wedding Apparel

Chris and I had a pretty low-key wedding, but we did wear formal attire: I wore a gown, and Chris wore a tux. Apparently not in Theo's definition, though. He pointed to a framed portrait of Chris and me at our wedding and announced, "When I marry Sam, we're going to wear track suits, just like Daddy! And big, big black shoes."

The image of Chris waiting at the altar (well, what passed for an altar at our outdoor wedding) wearing an Adidas track suit and giant black shoes amuses me greatly. It was a tux, I promise. (And yes, I did clue Theo in that he can't marry his brother...though I think it's very sweet that he wants to because, as he says, "I love him!")

Current Events

Theo has found a new love: the news. He was home sick a couple of days last week, and I pretty much let him OD on television to keep him quiet and resting. He watched some PBS kids' shows, but several times he asked me to put on the news instead. "I really like the news, Mom," he said seriously. "A lot of kids don't enjoy the news, Mom, but I do. It's very interesting, Mom. There are a lot of good things on the news these days."

Five going on fifty, I tell ya...

Entrepreneurial Spirit

Whoo! Been a while since I posted. Sorry about that—kiddo off school, then we all got sick. Here's one from this morning for you:

Theo: I think I'll teach people how to use freight elevators.
Me: Really? When?
Theo: When I'm about sixteen, Mom. Because kids get jobs in stores and stuff when they're sixteen, Mom, and they'll need to know how to use the freight elevators. I can teach them.

I like that he's already placing himself as some sort of manager/trainer when he enters the workforce. That kid's got aspirations!