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.