“I didn’t realize you wanted a ball for Christmas.”

The boy replied, “I don’t, but I didn’t know how to spell Star Wars Clone Trooper Blaster.”

May all your Christmas wishes come true - even if you don’t know how to spell it.

Escalators have always made me nervous, especially going down on them.  I always think that I’m going to get my foot caught, trip and fall.  I’ve heard horror stories about people falling and their hair getting caught in the escalator and they were scalped. (probably an urban myth, but I’m extra careful - I like my hair)

When they opened a movie theater on the fifth floor of our mall, I made Steve take the elevator.  Five flights of escalators with nothing but glass on either side, showing me how high up I am, completely freaked me out.

Now look at me.  Luke is having the time of his life riding up and down on these escalators and I’m along for the ride.  I might not love every minute of it, but my heart isn’t racing.

There are other fears I’ve conquered: pain (c-sections, lung surgery), blood (too many trips to the emergency room), gigantic bugs (”can we keep him?? I already named him Bob!”), and all kinds of bodily fluids.

All this in the name of motherhood.  Oh the things we do for our kids.

My friend told me that when she was a nanny, the parents of the little girl she watched told her that they didn’t want her spirit broken.  Personally I’m all for breaking spirits - they need to know who is the boss.  Parents are too busy trying to be friends with their kids and having conversations about their wrong choices.  Pleeeeese - sometimes no is no and it is “because I said so”.

This week has been especially trying with Luke.  He had a field trip to go rake and jump in leaves which he refused to participate in.  He stood off to the side, with his little arms crossed and pout on his lips.  The other parents were amused, I was embarrassed and the teacher was perplexed -”I’ve never seen Luke act like this before”.  Lucky me - he saves all his obstinacy for me! (actually,  I’m glad he is good in school.)

I was complaining to my mom about this.  I was dreading Halloween because he was already telling me he was not going to wear his costume.  My mom suggested that I tell him that if he doesn’t wear his costume, then he doesn’t get to do the fun stuff, and then walk away.

This advice kind of irritated me.   All I wanted to do was bitch, but I got advice.  Does she think I don’t know what I’m doing.  Does she think I’m a pushover?  Does she think Luke’s a brat?

After a day of stewing about it, I got a chance to apply her advice.

The day of Halloween we had a zillion places and parties to go to.  Luke really wanted to go to all of them but was refusing to wear a costume.  So I said, “No costume, no parties or trick or treating.”

This of course sent him into a frenzy - but once he realized I meant business, he grudgingly donned his costume and off we went.

Mom’s advice worked!!!

I hate it when she is right.

I don’t know where Luke got his stubborness.

My three year old blows me out of the water some days.  He has a vast vocabulary and is always explaining what he is trying to say, as if I’m the 3 year old and he is the adult.

Here are some examples of Lukeyisums:

Luke:  It is very sloppy outside.  Do you know what I mean Mama?  It means it is raining really hard.

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Me:  We have to run a couple errands.  We are going to the pharmacy and the grocery store.

Luke:  Where else are we going??

Me:  That’s all.

Luke:  Moooommm, in my book a couple means three, not two.

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Luke:  Mom, these monster shoes are pretty awesome.  Not pretty as in beautiful, but pretty as in very.

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Okay reading these back they don’t seem that remarkable, but when they are coming out of my little one’s mouth they simply delight me.

We just returned from camping with our friends.  Back before kids, we were serious campers.  We would hike in to a beautiful remote spot - and enjoy peace and nature.

Now we car camp.  Just drive up, park and set up your tent.  Who knew camping was so easy?!  I’m not sure if I really like it, but the kids have fun and I love a campfire.

When we checked in, we noticed that we were in the middle of what looked like a family reunion.  All the other campsites were reserved for the Farnsworth’s.

Well those Farnsworth’s love to party - their picnic tables were covered with bottles of liquor and they were pretty loud.  Luckily the sites are far apart so they didn’t really bother us.

Late the first night I was walking back from the bathroom (yeah there were flushing toilets - sue me) and I heard some loud crackling.  As I got closer to our campsite I saw tall flames from the adjacent campsite licking the air.  I ran to see what was on fire and it turns out that the Farnsworth’s love a giant bonfire and were pouring cans of gasoline on their campfire (dumb@#$).  A ranger was right behind me, so I told her what I saw and headed back to bed.

The next morning we awoke to three police cars giving the Farnsworth’s 1 hour to clear out.  It turns out that they were actually a local company all camping together.

Now here is the kicker (I am not making this up) - their company is called Fire Protection - they install sprinklers in buildings.  Maybe they were trying to kick up a little business.

Campfires and police - our boys thought it was the best camping trip ever!!!

Luke- “Mom, I’m excited about going to rake the leaves, but the sun is really bugging me.” (We’ve had some beautiful sunny days this last week.)

Me - “Why is the sun bugging you?  I know for a fact that he really likes you - he called me on the phone to tell me.”

Silence - I can actually hear the wheels turning in his 3 year old brain.

Luke - “Mom, the sun doesn’t have a phone!”

Busted - my days of making crazy crap up are coming to an end.

It bums me out - if I can’t mess with my kids who am I going to mess with?

I figured that this was a role playing game like going to the doctor or playing school.

So I ask, “How do you play going to Shopko?”

In his most exasperated 3 year old voice Luke replies, “Mooooom (I can’t truly describe the whininess in his voice, but I’m sure the moms out there know the tone)- you don’t play going to Shopko, you just go to Shopko.”

Now I’m really confused - what is Mrs. Nyholm doing taking 10 three year olds to Shopko.  Seems like a strange fieldtrip.

Trying to get more information I ask him what they did at Shopko.

“Oh Pastor Eric made us sing some Jesus songs and then he read out of the same old book he read out of last time.”

Ah ha!!!  Shopko is actually chapel and that same old book is the Bible.

Mystery solved!!

This last summer my husband taught my youngest the thrill of outdoor peeing.  They were at a park and the restrooms were closed.  After much cajoling he peed on his first tree and has never looked back.

After I caught him “watering” our garden a couple times (hmmm….the tomatoes are especially plump this year), I told him that peeing outside was only for emergencies.

I was remembering back to the first couple weeks of school when I was teaching.  Every year we would have a couple 1st graders relieving themselves at recess.  They were use to peeing outside and had to be taught that the playground wasn’t one big toilet.

My child was not going to be one of those kids.  It is a neat trick, but should only be used in emergency situations.

This is how Luke handled this revelation.

Begging at the back door to be let outside (we don’t need a dog, we’ve got Luke!), the moment he gets outside he announces he has an emergency.  I state that it isn’t an emergency when the bathroom is only a couple steps away.  This just makes him mad and he throws a little tantrum (is that all you got kid?), insisting the whole time that “It’s an EMERGENCY!!”.

I drag him inside and make him pee in the real potty, because , I remind him, I am the meanest Mommy in the world.  This statement just makes him madder.

Luke and his evil mind have come up with a new solution to his need to pee in nature.  When I’m pushing him in the stroller and not a potty in sight, he will have an emergency.  The last emergency happened while we were walking through a beautiful mansion filled street.

Mama didn’t raise no trash - we don’t pee in other people’s yards.

Luckily there was a median full of trees running down the middle of the street.  I got one dirty look from an old lady, but we got away with it in the end.  Nothing like the call of nature while in nature.

I called her about my last post.  I got her answering machine so I left her this message.  “Hi Barb, I got your message about me not blogging.  I left you a post on my blog.  Call me after you read it!”

When she called, she said she laughed out loud - I knew she wouldn’t take offense.  So to ease the minds of those of you who worried she would be mad, rest assure - she gets me and I get her.

And she had the last laugh - she said, “Ha!  I got you to blog again!”

My mom-in-law called me today to inform me that she has just about given up on reading my blog, because I haven’t posted for so long.

All I have to say is, “Get off my back!!!”

Wow, that was therapeutic - I guess I need to start writing again.