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....