Ode to Scooby

A conversation that I had with Adam while driving to Salt Lake City with him this afternoon:

Adam: When did Cleopatra live?

Me: I'm not sure. Write it down and we will look it up when we get home.

Adam: In the 1600's?

Me: Way before then.

Adam: When? In the 1000's?

Me: Before then too, but I really don't know exactly when. Write it down.

Adam: Who was Cleopatra anyway?

Me: She was a queen in Egypt. How do you know about Cleopatra anyway?

Adam: How do you think? I learned about her the same place I learn most things.

Me: At school?

Adam: No. Scooby-Doo.

Nice.

And in case you are wondering, according to Adam's research, Cleopatra lived from 69 B.C. to 30 B.C.

And, in case you are also wondering, Utah has 43 state parks and Albert Einstein died in 1955 due to internal bleeding following a ruptured aortic aneurysm. Since Adam didn't really care to read further to find out what exactly an aortic aneurysm is, and he didn't want to slow down enough to pronounce it correctly, he reported to his dad that Einstein's cause of death was simply internal bleeding. Good enough.

Thank Heavens for Great Teachers!

Noah just happened to totally luck out for his first year of school because his kindergarten teacher is an angel sent from heaven. I'm not sure how we are going to manage next year without her.

Phil is home sick today and he was laying on the couch listening while Noah and I read after school. Noah said something about the aide in his class, Mrs. Manning, which confused his dad because Phil wasn't sure who Mrs. Manning was. He asked Noah to remind him what his teacher's name is and this is exactly what Noah said:

"Her name is Mrs. Payne. But she's not full of pain." -short pause- "She's full of GOODNESS!"

Is there anything better than knowing for sure that your kid is spending his school day with somebody that he describes as "goodness"? What five-year-old even talks like that, by the way? But he's right. I'm not sure that there is a better word to describe Mrs. Payne.

I LOVE good teachers!

Winter blues

Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . I realize that my blog appears to have been completely abandoned and that posting at this point may seem a little silly, but I've got a laugh to share. And since I really did start this blog to document things that I don't want to forget, it really doesn't matter that nobody but me is reading it anymore. :-) This is one that I don't want to forget.

Yesterday I walked over to the school to pick Noah up from kindergarten. It was the second of two sunny days in a row, and the temperature was actually quite pleasant for a change, although I could already feel a chill from the wind that was beginning to pick up. We are so tired of being locked up inside, and although the weatherman had warned me that another storm was on the way, I was enjoying the short reprieve from my coat and gloves. As we were walking home I commented on the bright yellow construction paper sunshine that Noah was carrying and asked him to tell me about it.

This is how the conversation went:

Noah: It's a sun because I want it to be sunny and warm.

Me: Yeah, I want it to be sunny and warm too.

Noah: I don't get it. It's supposed to be warm now but it's already starting to get cold again.

Me: I know, but it will be spring soon and then it will be warm.

Noah: But it's taking forever, and then it kind of gets warm and then it gets cold again and it's freezing me, but the sun is trying to make it warm, but the wind is making it cold again. I just don't get it. What is Jesus thinking anyway??!?

Still, still, still . . .

Just in case anybody is wondering (assuming anybody still reads my blog even though I have been less than diligent in posting for the last several months):

Noah still wets his pants pretty much everyday. Yesterday he did it three times.

Yes, he's now officially closer to being six than he is to five.

And yes, it still makes me a completely crazy, irrational woman.

And in case you are further wondering, there seems to be a change in the potency of urine at about the age of 5-1/2 because the smell is suddenly overwhelming.

And I've decided that having a kid who REFUSES to fully potty train after three years of "practice" has reminded me of our infertility struggles. How, you may ask? Well, let me tell you. In the same way that I was completely incapable of sympathizing with people who had been "trying" to get pregnant for about 3 weeks, I also cannot find it in me to feel sorry for people who are at their "wits end" because their two-year-old is still having accidents after a week of potty-training. So, if you are one of those people who is struggling with potty-training issues at your house, let me apologize up front for the eye-roll that you probably saw me do when you complained about it to me. It's not that I don't WANT to feel bad; I honestly just CAN'T.

Ewwwww . . . that's disgusting!

Adam has a fingernail biting issue. He's had it long enough that his fingernails are pretty much just little wrinkles near the end of his fingers that a nail sometimes emerges from, just briefly enough to once again be chewed off. We've gotten to the point that even Adam started asking me to buy the stuff to put on his fingers to help him stop. So, I ordered the stuff and it arrived two days ago. Yea! There was excitement throughout the Rash house, so much so that after putting it onto Adam's fingertips, Noah insisted that he have some too. I tried to talk him out of it, but finally gave in thinking that he would realize his error the first time he touched his fingers to his mouth. That's another story though. This one is about Adam.

We were in the car not long after I put the stuff on both boys and this is the conversation as it happened:

Adam: I wonder how bad this stuff tastes.

Me: Taste it and see.

Noah: It's icky but I can still lick it. See?

Adam: Knock it off Noah. That's gross. Don't lick it on purpose.

Noah: But I can do it and it doesn't even make me sick.

Adam: STOP it Noah! Ewwww . . . knock it off. Mom? He's licking his whole arm! Tell him to stop.

Noah: giggle, giggle

Me: Stop licking your arm, Noah. That's gross. (Again, that's not the really gross part. Adam is just about to make it REALLY gross.)

Adam: I hope it doesn't taste like boogers.

Me: Nasty. Stop talking about it.

Adam: If it tastes like boogers it won't work because sometimes I eat boogers.

Me: (gagging) That's sick, Adam. You shouldn't eat boogers. Ever!

Adam: I don't really eat, eat them. I just make that noise with my nose when I feel them and then they just suck down my throat and I can sometimes taste them. They actually aren't that bad.

Me: Ewww. Stop talking about it. Seriously.

Adam: But don't worry, Mom. It's not a big deal because then I just poop them back out so they don't make me sick.

Me: silence

I had nothing to say after that. With each word that came out of my mouth his response just got worse, so I stopped talking. I'm not sure if it was deliberate, but Adam just figured out how to get the last word in a conversation with his mom. Well done, Son.

Tell us what you really think, Noah.

Phil needed to go see a few people in the neighborhood tonight and I was headed to the store so I asked him to take Noah with him. This is what happened next:

Phil: Hey Noah, come downstairs and go for a walk with me.

Noah: Adam! Do you want to come on a walk with me and Dad?

Adam: Nah.

Me: Come on, Adam. You should go with them.

Noah: Yeah, Adam should come and I think mom should stay home.

Phil: Why don't you want mom to come?

Noah: Because then she will talk soooo much and if it's just me and you and Adam then we don't have to listen to her talk so much.

Nice.

Back to school blues

So both of my boys have started school. Adam is in the 4th grade this year. Not liking that so much. For some reason it feels like the summer between 3rd and 4th grade was the line between little kid and big kid and he has now crossed that line. Nope. I don't like that at all. It might be because it seems like it was only yesterday that we brought him home for the first time; or it might be the fact that he still only weighs about 55 pounds and he still looks like a little kid ; or it might be because Adam is and always has been my baby and I'm not ready for that to end. It's Adam who was with me every time I had to change a diaper or make a bottle in the middle of the night. He's the only newborn that I ever hummed (I can't sing) lullabies to when he was fussy and didn't want to sleep on his own. He's the only baby that ever called me mama. He's the only person on the planet whose first teeth and first steps and first words are plainly etched into my memory. At the time we were doing all those things I didn't realize that I would never do them again and although those moments were a long time coming so I knew enough to cherish all of them, I kind of thought I would get another chance. I'm so not ready to let go of Adam's baby-hood, but for some reason 4th grade appears to have taken it away from me. Darn you 4th grade.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Noah started kindergarten. Don't like that one bit either. Most moms get a full five years with their kids (or even six if they are lucky enough to have a kid with a late birthday) before they have to send them off. I haven't even had three years with Noah. Technically, I should be able to keep him with me for another two years.

The thing is, Noah has been ready to take off since he was three and I'm pretty sure that he is completely convinced that he has done more than his share of time locked up in the house with mom. He is an adventurer. In spite of my best efforts to keep him close, he wants nothing more than to be around people and action and excitement, and there's nothing that he's not ready for. Just ask him. He can do it. And he can do it bigger, better, and faster than anybody else ever has. And if he doesn't do it the first time, just wait because he'll get there. Noah starting kindergarten is just as sad and even more scary to me as Adam crossing that 4th grade line. Although I suspect that Adam would be okay if I held onto him a little longer, I'm pretty sure that once Noah gets a taste of what's out there for him, he'll never look back, and I'm not ready for him to go.

Here they are lined up waiting to go into their classroom. Notice that in the top picture Noah is in the middle of the line. Then notice where his little head is in the second picture. As soon as his teacher opened the door he ran as fast as he could to the front of the line so that he could be the first one in the door. He did pause and blow me a kiss right before he disappeared . . . but then he was gone. See? No looking back for that kid.

We opted to do half-day kindergarten for Noah and he was excited because his friends were going to be in class with him, and then they would have all kinds of time to play each day after school. Then, two days before school started, a rush of kindergarten registrations allowed our school to add another kindergarten class. Believe it or not, all the little boys from our neighborhood that Noah plays with were moved to an all day class. Every day as we are walking home from school he starts going through the list to see who he can invite over to play. He is completely confused as to why his friends are all still in class when he isn't. I'm not sure how many more days we are going to have that same conversation, but so far he has not accepted my explanation. I think he is convinced that I'm just being mean to him. My task is to figure out how to take advantage of the time that he and I are going to have together this year, and to give him reasons to be excited that he gets another year of afternoons with mom. I also think that I need to get on the stick and start setting up play dates with boys from his class, even though I don't know a single one of them. He has no problem making new friends, so I obviously need to just get on board. I've decided that Kindergarten is for the birds. Kind of like 4th grade. Blech.