early morning drama

[This goes on every single day around here, in some form or another. My child is either horribly moody or totally normal. I can't tell.]

The setting: 7:45am, Sunday, the kitchen. Breakfast.

Andy asked for a bowl of cereal. Due to a recent visit to his grandma's house, we have a box of Fruit Loops in the kitchen. I don't like them as a breakfast option. He also has a box of Fruity Cheerios, and the Cheerios folk would have us believe that they're vastly superior and contain fiber and protein and such. (I didn't buy the fruity Cheerios either. I don't think a cereal should be any color other than that of wheat or oats or corn. But I'm a breakfast stickler.)

Anyway, he asked for a bowl of Fruity Cheerios. So I got him one, and covered it with milk. After only a few bites he pointed to the box of Fruit Loops up on the fridge and said, "I want that one now, Mommy."

I said, "Andy, they're they same cereal." (Not entirely true, but they're both red boxes full of multi-colored O's. One just seems to have less sugar. )

He seemed satisfied with that answer for a few minutes only. Then he asked me again for the Fruit Loops and I again said no.

Then came what I have dubbed "The Andy Response". He made an angry face at me. Then at his cereal bowl. Then he pushed it away and put his head down on the table. I ignored this. When he didn't get a response from me he picked his head up, sighed loudly, and pushed his cereal bowl even farther away from him so that it almost fell off the kitchen table. Then he put his head back down with a thunk.

I said nothing but picked up the bowl and put it on the opposite side of the table. Andy began to wail.

"Oh no! Now I'll never see my cereal bowl again! Everybody's so mean to me! I need to find a new family!"

the rosey bahookie

The other day when Andy was being delightfully ornery I jokingly said, "Andy! I'm going to paint your back porch red if you don't shape up!"

It took him a few days of hearing the phrase to understand what it meant, and of course I have not really painted his little back porch red. (Though it is often tempting.)

Today we were sitting in a chair together and Nugget was really being a pest. She wanted to play and began growling and tugging at my sleeve and yapping at us. It was time for Andy to have a nap and calm down so I said, "Nugget! Naughty dog!"

But Andy got all charged up anyway and yelled, "Paint her porch, Mommy! Paint her porch!"

it had to happen

While driving along today Andy was emitting a constant stream of toddler chatter. I was only half-paying attention.

Then he said, "Shit!"

I was quiet for a moment and then nonchalantly said, "What honey?"

He said, "Everybody says 'shit'."

I think I'm going to need to have a talk with this Everybody person.

missing the point

Andy was being a little hard on poor Shawn this morning. We were trying to get him out the door so we could all do some long-ignored errands, and he wasn't very cooperative. (Imagine that: An uncooperative, 3-year-old male.) Shawn had to speak sharply to him to get him to focus and hustle into the car.

As we were driving along he said, "I'm mad at you Daddy. You hurt my feelings. You're a mean guy."

I interjected and said, "Andy, Daddy's not a mean guy. You're very lucky to have such a great daddy who loves you so much. Some kids don't even have daddies. Wouldn't that be terrible not to have a daddy?"

Andy was in the backseat cuddling with a blanket we keep in the car. He looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "And some kids don't even have blankies! That would be terrible not to have a blankie!"

Next time I'll save my breath.

hint?

Andy: Mommy, do you shave?

Me: No....not my face.

Andy: But do you shave your body?

it buggs me

When I came in the back door tonight Andy and Shawn were engaged in their new favorite pastime: watching Looney Tunes. I walked in the back door, tired and dripping with sleet and said, "Hi, Andy!"

He pointed at me and said, "Say your prayers, ya long-eared ga-loot!"

vday baby

[I like to include cute Andy moments sometimes, to remind myself that my son isn't entirely ornery...]

On Valentine's Day I was resting in a chair in the basement, having some stretchy ligament pain. Andy and Shawn were doing the grocery shopping. I was waiting for them to come home so I could help unload groceries.

Suddenly I heard a knock on the glass of the back door, and a happy squeal. There was my little boy, all bundled up in his parka, smiling a huge smile and holding an enormous armful of roses. He was visibly excited to give me my flowers...

...and even more excited to share in the ridiculously large box of truffles they brought me as well. (Shawn has walked this road before; he knows what pregnant ladies like.)

The moments like these make those pesky mole-rat-preacher moments a little easier to swallow.

God's sense of humor

Tonight we took Andy to our church's pancake supper. He's got a wretched cough and cold and was perhaps the grumpiest and meanest he's ever been. All the older folks came up to him and said hello and he frowned and hid behind my legs.

After the pancakes worked their way into his tummy, however, he was a new man. He perked right up and his chatty nature started to shine through.

The pastor worked his way over to our table. He's a jolly guy with a jolly voice and he said, "Hi young Andy!"

Andy was inspired by his jolliness and replied, in an equally exuberant voice, "Hi, mole rat!"

That's right. My son called our minister a mole rat.

cuteness

I'm having a day of discomfort...I suppose at 20 weeks things are really stretching and growing and all sorts of other inappropriate-for-the-blog things that nobody really needs to know about. But I'm uncomfortable, so I'm lying stretched out in the Lazy Boy trying to find some relief.

Andy, meanwhile, is supremely excited about the impending birth and asks me every single day if the baby is coming out today. And I say no. And he said tonight, "I'm getting tired of waiting!"

It's so sweet it makes my hormonal heart melt.

So as I tried to get comfy in the recliner Andy showed up at my side with a train. First he sang the ABC's to my stomach. Then he put the train on my abdomen and rolled it around. The baby kicked a little bit and Andy got very excited and ran off. A minute later he was back with an armful of trains...at least 7 of them. And he piled them on my tummy so his little brother could share them. Eventually I had to tell him to stop the piling because it was hurting, but because I didn't want to hurt his very-generous feelings I told him that the baby had gone to sleep.

And he said, "Mommy, when the baby wakes up will you tell me so I can bring the trains back for him to play with?"

What a kid.

verbage

Tonight in the car I asked Andy to stop whining.

He asked me to "stop directioning" him.

eerily accurate

At the dinner table, out of the blue: "Daddy, you're clueless."

He obviously knows his father well.

close, but no cigar

It's late, and I just had to go up to Andy's bedroom to check on him. He was crying. He's been having a lot of bad dreams about stinging jellyfish lately, and tonight was no different.

I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I was dreaming about stinging jellyfish testicles!"

dear god I hope not

Andy: Where are we going?

Me: We're going to Walmart.

Andy: Why are we going to Walmart?

Me: To get some snacks for your preschool class.

Andy: Are we going to get snacks for the baby?

Me: No, Andy. The baby is still in Mommy's tummy.

Andy: Is the baby going to come out at Walmart?

the service is a little slow

At 10am this morning I was upstairs getting ready for a trip to the store. Andy was running around in his pajamas, playing with Nugget, making a good deal of noise. And that, of course, is generally how I keep track of him: this good deal of noise follows him wherever he goes. It's quite useful.

I was applying eyeshadow when I realized that it was suddenly deathly silent. It's never a good sign when the birds stop singing in the woods and it's never a good sign when Andy isn't loud.

I looked around for him upstairs and saw nothing. I went to the top of the stairs and called down, "Andy!"

Downstairs I heard a little voice say, "Yes Mommy?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen."

"What are you doing in the kitchen?" I asked.

"I'm sitting in my chair waiting for my food to arrive."

Apparently nobody told me the kitchen was open for business.

morning grump

This morning Andy and I were eating our breakfast before school and work. He was in a really rotten mood, having already thrown Nugget out of his bedroom and argued with me about getting dressed and brushing his teeth.

Shawn came down the stairs and said, "Good morning, Andy."

Andy looked down at his Cheerios and grumbled, "Daddy, I don't want to talk you right now."

I said, "Andy! Don't be rude. Daddy was saying good morning to you."

Andy said irritably, "Daddy, can you just let me enjoy my cereal business?"