Sparks and Butterflies...

But aside from that, she's still completely normal

How to Know When They’re No Longer Babies

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Kids grow up by increments.  Little by little.  But I think, now that I’ve been through two, I know when they’re well and truly no longer babies.  It’s not walking and being a “toddler.”  It’s not pre-school.  It’s not that all imporant Big Boy 5.  Not even the start of kindergarten.

It’s when they’ve lost both their front teeth, and both front big teeth come in.  That’s when they truly become gangly little smelly boys instead of you seeing that little baby inside.  They’ll always be my babies…  But they’re not babies anymore.

I’m doing NaBloPoMo, are you?

Growing up, Also: Not so much

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The boys are growing up a little.  Puberty feels just around the corner.

Logan loves for gel to be in his hair, and for his dad to “do” it.  Straight up and spiky preferred.  His hair takes longer than mine does.

Joseph went to school with cologne on.  He came home and said he was never ever doing it again.  He got too much attention.

Ahhhh… my son, there will come a time.

Bully

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We’re on the way home from school just like every day in existence.  We’re talking about how there’s a school rally the next day, and that the kids have to dress a certain way.  School spirit.  rah.rah.

All of a sudden this comes out of Joseph’s mouth, “My archnemesis has to be on stage!  With a guitar! And he has a RASH!”  Perhaps the “Bwahahaha” I heard was just in my head.

First I found out who this Archnemesis was (totally his word by the way.)  Jimmy Bartek*.  Who pairs up with Michael* to call Joseph Stupid (which he attempted to spell out, because we don’t call each other stupid) and make fun of him.

I then had the correct parental lecture that sometimes people feel really awful and the only way to make themselves feel better is by making others feel bad and BLAH BLAH BLAH.

But then I said, “But he has to get on stage?  With a rash?”

“Uh Huh!”

“That, my son, is called Karma…  Or the Biblical term is Reaping What You Sow.  But you are NOT allowed to make fun of him up there.  Be the better man.”

“And don’t give someone else power over me.  I learned that from my daddy.”

Maybe we’re doing something right.  But I can’t help hoping that Bully Jimmy Bartek’s rash spreads before the rally.

*Not the child’s real name.  Would rather not be sued thank you.

My First Embarrassed Child

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Carline.  Waiting.  And waiting.  Joseph has a tendency to be late.  I don’t know if his teacher really let’s him out late or he’s a dawdler.  But then again she let’s them out one by one and his last name begins with “W.”

Now, he’s messing with some other kid.  I holler out the  window, “Come on JoJo!”

And the earth stopped spinning on it’s axis there at Small Town Elementary.  I could see the flush creep up Joseph’s neck, and over his face.

“ooooOOOOooooo JOJO!  What sweeeEEEeeeet nickname, JOJO!”

Joseph yells at me, “Do.Not.Call.Me.JOJO?!”  He should have had a WTF? cartoon balloon over his head as well.

He got in the truck.  He immediately started to roll up the window to block out the taunting.  I made him put his seatbelt on first.

On the way home I told him, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know that JoJo was off limits in front of your friends.  Totally my bad.”

“OK.”

He’s 8.  Does this mean he’s a Tween now?

By the way – I thoroughly enjoyed embarrassing him.  Does that part get better too?

Channeling a Teenager

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Yesterday morning, I was admonishing Logan to Hop To!  Get those teeth brushed!  Get that face washed!

“Moooom.  Sometimes I wait a little bit to stretch.”

Which would have been cute.  Except lately he’s channeling a 13 year old girl in everything he says.  It’s not WHAT he says.  What he says is all fine and appropriate to the conversation and not disrespectful.  It’s the tone.  Every thing he says is punctuated and you can see, “Like, Gah! mom.  Eyeroll” in a cartoon bubble over his head.

He’s six.

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