Three Leatherman Laps

Last Saturday, I took Ella for a jog with me.  We did our usual 3-mile route, half of which is on the neighborhood streets, the other half on the nearby prairie path.  She sat in the BOB (our jogging stroller), constantly talking about something, sometimes singing Old MacDonald, sometimes complaining about running (as if she was) and never cheering me on or encouraging me to keep going.  With all of that, I really don’t know if she enjoys it as much as she lets on when I first ask her if she wants to go running; but I enjoy it, complaints and all.  Running with one of my kids in the BOB has been one of my favorite things to do as a parent.  And I know it’s short-lived, so I try to do it as often as possible.

When I first announced that I’d be going for a run with Ella, Cal said that he wanted to go.  Looking back, I wish we had bitten the proverbial bullet and just bought a double jogger after Ella was born –- this would have solved this very dilemma with which I had been faced on numerous occasions.  Since we hadn’t gone that route and just had a single jogger, I told Cal that it was Ella’s turn (it was) and that I would take him for a run tomorrow (Sunday).  He actually took this news pretty well.

Fast forward to Sunday morning.  Cal and I synched up on our plans to go for a run.  “We’ll go after your nap today, Baby Bear,” I told him.  “Yeah, we’ll go after my nap,” he replied, still eager to run with me.

Fast forward to post-Sunday nap.  I’m all ready to go for our run.  I think he’s still up for it, but he’s showing signs of wishy-washiness.  So Dan throws out a different option, “Or would you like to go for a bike ride, Buddy?”  Cal was interested.  “Or you can ride your tricycle (Dora big wheel) and Daddy and I will ride our bikes with Ella in the bike seat,” I presented as if it was my idea, but this is exactly what Dan had intended.  Regardless of who had the idea, Cal was all over it.

There would be no run.  There would be a family bike ride instead.

Cal on his Dora tricycle (circa September, 2012)

So imagine the scene: a helmeted Cal on his Dora trike, a helmeted Daddy on his bike following Cal, and a just behind Daddy a helmeted me on my bike with a helmeted Ella sitting in the bike seat attached to the back of my bike –- the helmeted Leatherman family riding as fast as Cal’s legs could peddle himself down the sidewalks in our neighborhood.

I don’t know if Dan had this in mind when we started, but our bicycle ride would be comprised of simple laps around the block, laps that involved a few left turns, no crossing of a street and very flat course.  In the end, we did three laps, described below.

Lap 1: Learn the Rules and Fall into Line

Our first lap was characterized by our collectively learning the rules of the bicycle ride and then falling into line.  First and foremost, Cal was to be the leader throughout.  No one was allowed to pass him, and anyone who did would be responsible for the near meltdown that would follow.  It’s not easy to ride an adult bicycle at the pace of a plastic Dora tricycle with two 4-year-old legs powering it, so I found myself drifting off of the sidewalk and into the street to weave at a faster pace yet still stay with the Leatherman pack.  A time or two, my bike passed Cal; and this didn’t go unnoticed by Cal.  It was met with a series of "NO!"s and some form of screaming insistence that he be the leader.  With this, I decided it was best for me to just fall back into my spot in line.

Secondly, and almost equally important to Dan, was that Cal was not to cross a street.  He was to stay on the sidewalk and turn left just before he reached an intersection.  Not that there’s much traffic in our neighborhood (one car may have passed us during our ride), but it was inherently safer and less controversial -- there would be no "reminders" to look both ways and no complaints about having to stop and re-start.  Cal surprisingly actually followed this rule without question or conflict; so it turned out to be an easy rule to learn and respect.

I don’t know if he noticed Cal’s knees hitting his chin as he peddled, but it was during the first lap that Dan deciphered that a little seat adjustment may help Cal to peddle Dora a little faster.  Good luck getting that past Cal, I thought to myself.  I had tried this in the Fall and failed to get acceptance.  Maybe a few months of toddler growth would change things… that and Dan’s involvement -- he’s generally less “influenced” by the kids than I.

So Dan adjusted the seat, explaining the whole time to Cal why he was doing so, basically that it would make peddling so much easier and faster.  Cal wasn’t buying it, whining about it the whole time; but Dan let it go in one ear and out the other and handed Cal his Dora trike with an adjusted seat.  Cal hopped on, peddled and flew down the sidewalk faster than he had ever gone on the trike, screaming complaints about the seat adjustment as he did so.  Eventually the complaining stopped (Cal never actually admitted how much better it was), but the peddling kept going.

Lap 2: My Whiny Backseat Driver

Shortly into the second lap, I started to hear Ella say, “no bicycle,” from behind me.  She may have been saying it during the first lap, but I was distracted by the goings on with Cal.  “No bicycle, Mommy,” she repeated, time and time again, her tone getting edgier and more pointed with each “no bicycle” statement that I was seemingly ignoring.  Maybe it’ll stop, I foolishly thought.

Eventually, I acknowledged her with a couple of options.  “Okay, Ellie, I’ll take you home and we can either go in the jogging stroller or stay at home.”

“Wagon,” she responded.

“No wagon – either the jogging stroller or stay at home.”  The wagon’s nice for casual walks, but I had no idea how fast I would need to go to keep up with the boys.  At a faster pace, I figured it’d be too awkward and unsafe.

“No bicycle!” she exclaimed.

Yeah, I got that.  We continued our back-and-forth, where she declared “no bicycle” and I responded with her options (stroller or stay home).  About two thirds through the second lap, I decided to do something more than just “fight” about it.  I fell out of line and caught up to Dan (not that there was much catching up to do) and informed him of the situation.  I then went ahead of Dan, caught Cal and sped ahead of him without announcing why.

“NO, MOMMY!”  Cal exclaimed.  “DON’T GO AHEAD OF ME!”

Clearly influenced by my screaming toddler, I responded with “I’m taking Ella home so we can get the stroller,” thinking this would be a legitimate (and incidentally truthful) excuse that Cal would buy.  “NOOOOOOO! DON’T GO AHEAD OF ME!!!” Cal responded.

So, like any backboneless Mommy would do, I fell back into my spot in line.

Then I realized what was happening – my 4-year-old kid was controlling me.  Wait... who's the adult here? I rhetorically asked myself.  So I sped ahead and left Dan to calm our upset Cal while I acquiesced to the wishes of our upset Ella.

Lap 3: Lose a Bike, Gain a Stroller

Ella and I quickly got to the house for our pit stop.  I unloaded her from the bike seat and set her on the ground.  She was still hung up on getting into the wagon, but I wasn’t giving in.  “Stroller or stay home,” I reminded her as I started to grab the BOB (I really wanted to continue our laps with the boys).

“Dis stroller!” Ella insisted, pointing at the tandem Joovy stroller ideal for carting two kids through a parking lot, mall and shopping-cart-less store.  Not ideal for a jog.

She was getting me on a technicality – I hadn’t specified the stroller I intended to use.  Nuts. Not wanting to further our disagreement on the mode of transportation to use, I caved.  “You want that stroller?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ella smiled.  So I loaded her onto the back (helmet still on her head) of the Joovy and headed out -- jogging, the little wheels of the stroller bouncing unsteadily over every crack in the sidewalk -- to catch up with the boys who had just passed our house.

We caught up quickly, and I found that a slow jog was too fast and an up-tempo walk would do just fine.  Perfect.

So we continued with our now bicycle/stroller ride still following the rules established early in the first lap, a helmeted Cal leading the pack, a helmeted Daddy following him, a helmeted Ella in the stroller following Daddy and an unhelmeted but content me pulling up the rear.  It turned out to be a pleasant third -- and final -- lap.

In the end, my jog-turned-bicycle ride-turned-stroller jaunt wasn't physically demanding like my jog with Ella had been the day before.  Instead, it was an exercise in patience, something I have to do every day as a parent and equally as challenging as jogging is for me.  I don't know if I'm doing this patience thing right; but I'm pretty happy with the outcome of this particular ride -- we got outside, we went for a ride, we were presented with some challenges, we made adjustments, and we finished with smiles on our faces.

Facebook Posts - February, 2013

Here are my Leatherkid-related Facebook posts from February, 2013. They are unedited and should generally be assumed to start with "Carla Reiter Leatherman..."

It's a tough call on my favorite post this month.  The Old Navy experience on the 9th was certainly frustrating yet funny... and jogging with Ella in the stroller on the snowy path on the 24th left a mark on me (I've thought about it on every return trip to the path)... and my conversation with Carmen, Cal's friend at school, about her Valentine on the 15th was just too sweet not to love.  I feel like I should say that my post on the 28th is my favorite -- afterall, my beautiful little girl turned 2 that day.  In the end, I have to say that my favorite post was the one on the 7th -- I absolutely cherish those moments with Ella.

At any rate, here they are:

February 1, 2013

Cal to me this AM: "Mom, you look like a grandma."
Dan to Cal: "Stick with 'princess', Cal."

February 2, 2013

wishes her kids would sleep in during the weekend like they try to do during the week.

February 2, 2013

had this fun convo with Ella in the bathroom a few minutes ago:
Ella: "Caow!"
Me: "Cal?"
Ella: "Caow!"
Me: "Cal?"
Ella: "Caow!"
Me: "Oh, Towel."
Ella <scowling>: "Caow!"
Me: "Cow?"
With that Ella smiled and nodded.

February 7, 2013

So Ella insisted that we lay on my bed before nigh nigh instead of reading books... "Mommy's bed?" she repeated as she tapped it with her hand while holding her "bainkie" bunched up in the other. I couldn't lay down with her on my chest fast enough. She just wanted to cuddle. Love those moments.

February 9, 2013

Brought the kids with me to Old Navy earlier today -- pretty distracting, where the tone was set early when we saw their new carts, none of which were the double-kid kind. So one of the workers gave Cal a balloon as incentive to cooperate and walk alongside the cart. It worked for a minute before he was complaining about his balloon being broken. "This balloon is broken," he boldly told another ...worker. "Do you want me to fix it?" she asked him. He did, so she did. So then we spent another 20 minutes in the store, half of which was me yelling "Cal?! Cal?!" unsure where he was. As we checked out, all of the workers were smiling at us (I wasn't); and as we walked away from the counter to leave, Cal yelled, "Bye, everyone!"

February 10, 2013
Aunt Kel Kel trying to sneak a pic with Ya Ya at Christmas.

Aunt Kel Kel and Ya Ya (Christmas, 2012)

February 14, 2013

sent Cal to school today with a bunch of unsigned Valentines and a note telling his teacher that we couldn't get him to cooperate and sign them and maybe she could give it a shot.

February 15, 2013

had this little exchange with Carmen, Cal's little friend from school, earlier this evening:
Carmen: "Did you like my Valentine?"
Me: "We really did!"
Carmen <excited>: "We made it. My mommy did the owl and I cut the paper!"
Me: "You did?! You did an excellent job! It was very creative. We really liked it!"
Carmen <not yet satisfied>: "Did CAL like it?"
Me: "He did!"

And then visions of their wedding flashed through my head. That Carmen's a keeper!

February 16, 2013

just learned from Cal you get a "burn cut" by lighting a knife on fire and then putting dragging the knife across your finger and that you should wear "cooking gloves" to protect yourself from "burn cuts."

February 21, 2013

is listening to the "Sound of Music" soundtrack... again.

February 21, 2013

It took me hundreds of words to basically say this on my blog last night:

February 21, 2013

wonders... Should I push Cal to answer my question, "where are your pants and undies, Cal?"?

February 23, 2013

Just had this convo with Cal:
Me: "Cal, do you have a girlfriend?"
Cal: "No. Girls are slimy."
Me: "They're slimy, huh?"
Cal: "Are you a girl, Mom?"
Me: "I am."
Cal: "Then you're slimy."

February 24, 2013

was THAT jogger pushing a 2-year-old in a jogging stroller on the snowy prairie path just now.

February 25, 2013

Ella in the kitchen this AM, a little whiny and still waking up, "want shoes... coat... coo-kie."

February 28, 2013
Our baby girl turned the BIG TWO today!

Ella, newly 2 years old

Cal Van Gogh

Cal spent the better part of his awake hours last weekend drawing.  His mediums of choice included crayons, colored pencils and washable markers carefully applied to “scrap” paper (paper with printing on one side and a blank slate on the other).  His workspace was the kitchen island, selected primarily because it would keep his masterpieces out of Ella’s sloppy reach.  And his chosen subject depended on the day – on Saturday, it was Les Miserables; on Sunday, it was Sandra Boynton characters.

Yes, Les Miserables.  Not too long ago, Dan caught a WTTW special promoting the 25^th anniversary of the musical part way through and captured what he could on DVR.  The bulk of the special was a broadcast of a 2010 stage performance in London.  It’s fantastic, really; and Cal thinks so, too.  With a little help from Dan (who’s been reading the book and knows the characters intimately) and a remarkable memory, Cal knows the names of most of the costumed characters singing at microphones on the stage.  His favorite?  Thenadier, rogue innkeeper and Eponine’s father, mostly because he dresses “like a pirate” (and thankfully not at all because he’s a rotten person to the core).

At any rate, Cal drew this picture without announcing his plans to do so:

Scene from "Les Miserables," just before the battle near the end

Maybe 2/3 of the way through his drawing it, I realized what it was he was doing.  “Cal Daniel!”  I exclaimed, truly amazed by what I had just realized.  “You’re drawing Les Mis!”

“No, I’m not,” he replied, but didn’t volunteer what it was he was supposedly “really” drawing, probably because it was, in fact, Les Mis as I had suggested.  And he proceeded to fill in some details above the stage performers, which I’ve come to learn are a drummer, another orchestra guy, a pirate-looking French soldier and Thenadier (in the middle of the picture).  I’ve also come to learn the scene – it’s just before the battle near the end of the story; and on the stage are, from right, Valjean, Javert, Gavroche, Combferre, the French soldier and Enjorlas.

That was Saturday.  On Sunday, he switched gears and brought me into the mix.  He started with a request to draw a scene from the pages of "Pajama Time," written and illustrated by Sandra Boynton, which I obliged (and incidentally felt pretty pleased with the end result):

Opening scene from Sandra Boynton's "Pajama Time"

Cal’s funny when he asks me to draw things – it needs to be exactly like the source picture (at least through his eyes), otherwise he throws a fit and asks me to draw it again.  This one was acceptable to him.  He also likes to participate a bit.  In the case of this one, Cal colored in things like eyeballs, sand and jumprope handles and added details like the sun, tree leaves and the shovel, which he had initially asked me to leave out.  He also initially insisted I leave out the bucket by the hippo’s feet, which I did, but then felt like I had to fill in the gap with a second hippo foot.  He then asked me to add the bucket, which I tried to tell him was too late to do because the second foot was now there… trust me... but he didn’t let me off the hook and decided he'd just color the first foot red so it looked like a continuation of the hippo's pant leg.  Pretty sharp, that kid.  And finally he signed it for both of us -- one "by Sandra" for him, one "by Sandra" for me.

And then he took over, announcing that he was going to draw a bunch of pictures for his book.  He started drawing hippos and hippo scenes from scratch as though he was Sandra Boynton himself.  And this evolved to other animals and scenes, also “by Sandra Boynton” (though really just from his own head).  And my role in this?  In each of the pictures, I got to color the sky the color that he selected.  Blue… purple… green…  it varied based on the wishes of my whimsical Cal.

At any rate, here are some of the other “Sandra Boynton” pictures (with some random letters and my colored skies) drawn by Cal on Sunday, soon to be "published" in his book along with others he's drawn since then:

Hippos (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

Hippo sleeping & other characters (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

From left, Wolf, Chicken, Bear & Lion (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

Red Hippo, Flying Duck & Car (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

Unsure (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

Muskee, Dolphin & Bear fishing (inspired by Sandra Boynton)

If you'd like a copy of this book, please let me know.  It'll be a page-turner for sure.

Ella No Like That

The kids’ teachers preach that the kids use their words instead of their hands, teeth, other body parts or screams to express themselves.  If a friend says or does something they don’t like, they are to respond with an “I don’t like that, So-and-So” instead of a shove.  If they are having trouble putting their shoes on or zipping their coats, they are to respond with a calm, “please, help me” instead of throwing a screaming, unintelligible fit.  And we reinforce this at home, regularly insisting, “use your words, please.”

Except for a couple of slips, Cal’s always been pretty good about the proper use of the “I don’t like that” response to being wronged by someone either physically or verbally.  This is not to suggest he always uses it when he should – it’s just that when he has used it, it’s generally been in the right context.  Ella, on the other hand, has taken it to an extreme, using it not only when she was wronged but also when she just doesn’t like the options or the scenario presented to her, as in:

“I no like that, Daddy” in response to Dan suggesting that she eat the chicken nuggets and potatoes sitting on her dinner plate.

“I no like that, Mommy” in response to my pleas that she put her big-girl undies on after using the big-girl potty first thing in the morning.

“I no like that, Cal” in response to Cal thoughtfully handing her a book to read or another stuffed animal to take to school.

“I no like that, Zoe” in response to Zoe jumping up onto the end of the bed to lie down near her feet but not touching them.

And she says it so sternly, too, typically holding up her hand and bouncing it up and down with every word, a simple gesture that reinforces the fact that she “no like that.”  Five hand bounces with every “I no like that, So-and-So.”

While Ella’s overuse of “I no like that” amuses me to no end, I hope that it’s short-lived.  The proper response to Ella telling us that she “no like that” is for us to stop doing what she “no like,” which we do but only when we believe it’s appropriate.  The more she misuses it, the less she gets the response she wants.  And I don’t want this to translate into less use of “no like that” when it’s really warranted.

A Little Twist on the Bedtime Routine

It’s the same routine every night for Cal:

• Grab jammies and Underjam for bed
• Select clothes to wear the next morning and put them on (near) the stool
• Select two books to read before bed
• Get undressed (could be in Cal’s room, could be in Mommy’s and Daddy’s room)
• Take shower/bath in Mommy’s and Daddy’s room (Bath Night only)
• Put Underjam and jammies on
• Brush teeth
• Declare who’s putting whom to bed
• Return to room and sit on parent’s lap in rocking chair for books; read books
• Get up, turn off light, hop into bed
• Get kisses and good night message from parent
• Start sucking thumb
• Call for Mommy because there’s something important to say; make something up and tell Mommy that made-up important thing
• Start sucking thumb again
• Fall asleep

The bedtime routine is typically kicked off by Dan or me with some sort of announcement that it’s bath or bedtime; and from there it’s an exercise in patience and motivation on Dan’s and my part.  While Cal knows the routine fairly well, he rarely stays focused on seeing it all the way through.  In between each of the steps, it’s not uncommon for him to be darting from room to room, hiding in corners, jumping on beds, etc, entertaining Ella and inciting her to join in his unfocused ruckus.  So each of the bedtime steps is typically prefaced with a reminder to execute the step (as in, “Cal, put your Underjam and jammies on”) or a threat should the step not be started in 3 seconds (as in, “If you’re not putting your Underjam and jammies on by the time I count to 3, you’re down to one book for the night”).

Last night was no different than usual only up until the read-books part.  I was the put-Cal-to-bed parent, which has gotten much easier since we added the selecting of the two books as an early step in the bedtime routine.  Before that change, I found that when I put him to bed, book selection took a while, sometimes because he was wishy-washy but most often because he was just plain ornery.  At any rate, the books were waiting for us when we got to the rocking chair after Cal brushed his teeth and declared I would put him to bed.

Cal’s funny about books.  Sometimes, he’s really random with his book selection and changes it up from one day to the next.  Other times, we find ourselves reading the same two books to him several days in a row.  This week, Eric Carle’s “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” and “Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?” have been his books of choice.

Instead of waiting for me to plop myself onto the rocking chair, handing me the two books to read and then having me pull him up onto my lap, Cal grabbed the books and plopped himself onto the rocking chair and then announced he’d start reading “Brown Bear, Brown Bear.” I went along and pretended to be him, plopping myself onto his lap (holding my weight up with my arms on the chair arms).  Without skipping a beat, he started “reading” the book, "Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see?  I see a <pause> red bird looking at me."  I thought to myself, I can’t hold myself up like this for the whole book, so I pulled the pillow of his bed and lay down on the floor in front of the chair to listen.

He “read” the whole book aloud, using the pictures to assist him with the story.  He then transitioned to reading “Polar Bear,” which was a little tougher to “read” through pictures because you have to know (or remember) the sound that each of the animals makes… or, at least the sound that Eric Carle says each makes (for example, hippos “snort,” zebras “bray” and flamingo’s “flute”).  So that one had a few restarts and stumbles to get through it.  But he did and then jumped out of the chair to turn off the light before climbing into bed.

I figured we’d get back to the final steps of the bedtime routine at this point; but instead, I found myself following his lead.  The steps were the same; however, the roles were reversed.  As soon as he turned off the light, he bounced over to me still on the floor, leaned over, kissed me goodnight and then proceeded to walk toward and out his door, saying “I love you” as he did so.  He then went to our bedroom (which is next to his), turned on the light and hung out there for a minute or two, doing what, I’m not sure.

Figuring he’d probably come back soon, I decided to turn this into a little game.  I got up and carefully lay down in his bed (which is still a toddler bed with the same mattress we used in his crib).  Thoughts of falling through it crossed my mind but didn't stop me from doing this.  I then proceeded to suck my left thumb.

Cal emerged from our bedroom, looked downstairs into the living room, realized he hadn’t put his toys away, went downstairs and announced to Dan that he needed put them away.  I’m not sure exactly how that conversation went, but Dan successfully talked him out of it; and Cal headed back upstairs.  When he reached the top, I called for him as he would for me, “Cal!”

Cal came to me and, fully ignoring the odd and (I thought) amusing fact that I was lying in his bed and sucking my thumb, leaned over me and asked, “What are you going to dream about tonight?"

I answered, “the white school bus.”  (Cal’s been dreaming about the white school bus that sits outside of his school for a good couple of years now.)

With that, he leaned over and kissed me goodnight and then left the bedroom once again, declaring “I love you” as he exited.

The way Cal was carrying this out as if it were normal, I think he was in it for the long haul, meaning, he was prepared to let our fun charade go on all night.  Had I not gotten up out of his bed to switch back to our normal roles, Cal probably would have crawled into our bed, turned on the TV and fallen asleep at some point.  And I may have fallen asleep in his bed to awaken a couple of hours later on a mattress that had fallen through the springs built to hold a toddler's weight.

Cal cooperated fully once I declared the "switch" over.  He crawled into bed... I told him I love him and I'm proud of him... I asked him what he was going to dream about, and he answered, "the white school bus"... I then kissed him and told him to have big dreams and get lots of sleep because he's going to change the world... and as I left the room I said, "I love you" (with words and sign language -- it's so automatic now).  He then sucked his thumb as he fell asleep; and I then went to my room, turned on the TV and lay down in bed to watch it for a few minutes before going downstairs to work a bit.  It was a fairly normal end to a routine that had been interrupted by a little fun.

Facebook Posts - January, 2013

Here are my Leatherkid-related Facebook posts from January, 2013. They are unedited and should generally be assumed to start with "Carla Reiter Leatherman..."

It really is fun to re-read posts from the past -- I had forgotten about many of these!  January was the month we started using... or trying to use the Thumbguard to "help" Cal to stop sucking his thumb (a battle that didn't last long and one where Cal emerged the victor).  As for picking my favorite post, it's a toss-up -- the one on the 31st was analytical and excellent, and the detail in the picture post on the 18th was simply fantastic.

Anyway, here they are:

January 7, 2013
sang the ND Fight Song with Dan and the kids on the way to school this AM. Go Irish!

January 10, 2013
re-enacted my poking Cal in the eye with my nose when I kissed him good night in the dark last night with Cal before heading in to work this AM. He wanted to show Grandpa how it looked in slow motion.

January 13, 2013
caught Ella coloring the counter with a colored pencil and told her no, that she should only be coloring paper. Her response? "Why?"

January 13, 2013
is watching Cal draw a picture for me for my birthday because "adults have birthdays, too." He just said he needs to add a cake to the picture, and that evolved into his being my server, what kind of cake did I want (chocolate, I said) and did I want a princess cake (yes!). And then he said he'd bring me coffee and then whispered in my ear this secret: "when you're done, you can take a balloon home with you and have a piece of cake."

January 15, 2013
had just finished counting to 3 as motivation to get Cal to choose what jammies to wear tonight when he volunteered, "I'm going to pick up all of my dinosaurs before you count to 3." He then proceeded to start picking up the tiny replicas strewn on his bedroom floor but realized I wasn't counting yet, paused and then said, "start counting, Mom." I was so flabbergasted by his suggestion that I forgot to count!

January 17, 2013
Cal drew this at school today -- makes me smile and feel like I'm doing something right. (-->)

January 18, 2013
Cal to the delivery guy just now as he opened the front door solo after hearing the doorbell ring: "ExCUSE me, Sir..."

January 18, 2013
Here's another picture drawn by Cal. That's me in the top, left corner. Cal and Ella are jumping on a trampoline (complete with bouncy symbols). Dan Leatherman is sitting on a chair taking a picture of them jumping. And that's our house in the background.

January 19, 2013
wonders how Dan's donut run always seems to turn into 20 minutes of misery for her. Cal wants to go but doesn't put his shoes and coat on when asked, Dan leaves, Cal's left whining incessantly about wanting to go, I'm left explaining to him that he needs to make better choices and then Ella becomes upset for reasons NO ONE knows. 10 minutes down, about 10 to go...

January 20, 2013
is amused by Cal at this moment -- he is playing fumble football again with his two playmates, Elmo and Gorilla. The kid makes me laugh without even knowing it.

January 23, 2013
had the pleasure of giving Cal a bath tonight under all of these conditions:
a) he was standing up in the tub the whole time
b) he was whining the whole time
c) he was telling me that he doesn't like me
d) he was hungry (having been sent upstairs w/o dinner after plenty of chances to "right the ship")
e) we still had the thumb-guard to put on

Ahhh... parenthood... :)

January 24, 2013
Cal giving me the rundown on the thumbguard: "If I want to suck my thumb, I just go like this <pries his thumb out of the thumb slot, sticks his thumb in his mouth>; if I don't want to suck my thumb, I go like this <wriggles his thumb back into the thumb slot>."

My response? "We'll have to put the thumbguard on tighter."

We will surely be in the 1% of thumbsuckers where the thumbguard didn't work.

January 27, 2013
was offered some hot apple juice by Cal this AM and responded with a pleasant, "Yes." Cal's response was, "Yes, PLEASE?"

He got me.

January 31, 2013
During the car ride to school this AM, Cal talked about the different ways to say "no." There's the "mean" way: "NO!" And there's the polite way: "No, thank you." He ended the discussion with, "No's a complicated word." No kidding.