Little Fishy

Last night I was giving the boys a bath. Suddenly, as if some innate switch was flipped, Beanie has decided he wants to swim. He wants to put his face in the water. He wants to lay down and attempt a backstroke. He wants to be in and under the water as much as he can. This is a far cry from only a few weeks ago when he hated to get his head wet and had to be coaxed to sit down in the tub. This is also the same child who, at this summer's swim lessons, fought like a banshee to get IN or OUT of the pool. I sat by the tub last night, dumbfounded that suddenly the Bean had turned into a fish seemingly overnight.

He definitely did not inherit this gene from me, the person who detests the pool with every fber of her being. Although there must be some dormant swimming gene in me somewhere--my niece is beyond talented in swimming. My cousins on my mother's side are also fish and a few of them were literally Olympic caliber swimmers. But me? Not so much. I hate everything about it. I hate being in a swimsuit. I hate being cold when you first splash in the water. I hate how the pool can suddenly make me feel incompetent and out of shape. And mostly, I hate the thought of hair, pee and rogue scabby bandaids floating in the water. I am grossed out by all of it. I wish I weren't. It would be so good for me to swim, if only it didn't disgust me so.

Last night reminded me to once again, put the boys back in swim lessons. I can't let my dislike of the pool and all of its skeeviness reflect on them. I will just need to try my hardest not to look too closely at the pool or its scabby kneed, pee-pee diaper inhabitants.

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

Conversations with a 2 year old

This morning Beanie woke up early and popped into our room at 5:40am. WIDE awake. As if he had been up for an hour already, had a cup of coffee and already read the paper. He was raring to go. Ken was already downstairs working and I was totally clueless as to what time of day it was or even which day it was. I have been so incredibly tired lately that when morning comes I feel as if I am coming out of anesthesia. I did my best to convince Beanie to go back into his room and lay down. "Buddy it's EARLY. See! Sunshine is still sleeping. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"No. All done teepin'. Tuggle (snuggle)"

"Ok. We can snuggle but ONLY because it is almost morning time and not because I am too tired and weak to fight you. Tomorrow you'll stay in your room until later, got it?"

"got it!"

SO we lay back down and he proceeds to lay there for approximately one minute. Then he sat up and started talking. And talking. And talking. Here is a gist of our conversation:

"Mommy, get jue? (juice)?"
Me: No. Lay back down.
"Mommy get viiiamin? (vitamin).
Me: No. not yet.
"Mommy watch pengin? (the penguin on Backyardigans)"
Me: I thought you wanted to snuggle Sawyer? LAY. DOWN.
"Peease?"
Me: Daddy's awake! Go down and ask him to get you juice.
"No, I tay with you and tuggle"
Me: Ok. Lay down and snuggle
"Mommy, I a good boy?"
Me: Yes! You are a very good boy. Now lay back down.
"Mommy, daddy happy?"
Me: yes
"Mommy, Brudder happy?"
Me: yes
"mommy, you happy?"
Me: yes but not as happy as I would be if we were asleep right now.
"Mommy, go pay with cars?"
Me: Yes. Go play with cars. Mommy is going to stay here.
"No, I tay with you and tuggle"
Me: Sounds good
"Mommy, no pengin? Not yet?"
Me: Right Sawyer. Too early to watch penguin. You can go and see Daddy if you want."
"No. I tay wit you! I tuggle wit you"
Me: ok. please lay still.
"OK. Mommy I wake you up. I help!" (proceeds to manually pry open my eyes)
Me: You win Beanie. I'm up.
"Otay! Now watch pengin?"

It really is a good thing that he is so incredibly sweet and adorable at times like this...

Verbal Dyslexia

Anyone who knows my dad Gene well knows that he suffers from "verbal dyslexia", or what my brother-in-law calls "Geneieisms." My dad knows what he is saying, or rather what he means to say, but sometimes the words come out contorted. What he sees in his head does not necessarily always translate into speech. We all still laugh heartily at the video rental store incident years ago when he asked for the horror movie "Polygrist" instead of "Poltergeist." Dad is a very smart guy so it frustrates him when these Geneiesims occur, but he is also a good sport about it and laughs right along with the rest of us.

His grandson, it would seem, has inherited this condition. Except Liam will argue up and down that he is right and it is everyone else that is wrong. Just this morning I was singing a song from one a Backyardigan's episode. The characters were trekking through the jungle and they were singing "Into the thick of it! Into the thick of it!" Liam immediately stopped me and said "NO Mommy. You are singing it wrong. It is "Into the pickle it! Into the pickle it!" There was no use in trying to convince him otherwise. He is ALWAYS right.

Some other "Liamisms" that quickly come to mind because he has said them the past two weeks:

"Let's donut food to poor kids!"

"Make sure you use an infecting wipe to clean the sink."

Bob Marley's song is not "Stir it Up", but in Liam's mind "SERIOUS"

You don't eat Vitamins every morning you eat "Bite-a-mins"

Disco Date Night Update

Above is the garish documentation of Friday night's "disco date night" ordeal with Liam. He was so excited about the concept of a "school dance" that he never spent any time actually thinking about what a "school dance" meant because had he known, we would have stayed home. The dance was one of the few things that made "the boys who is always smiling" grimace in a photo. (note: this picture is dreadful for many reasons. My hair is NOT really skunky striped. Liam's hair is not suddenly black. The grimace and me holding him down to the chair, however, are accurate).

We got to the dance on a very snowy night. I had no sooner stopped the car when Liam undid his seat belt and practically leaped out of the car. He took off at a sprint to get inside, overcome with excitement (when he has his mind set on something, that child can move!). I walked (Liam ran) inside the door and made a beeline to the dark and loud gym. Once inside he spotted the "Great Wall of Snacks and Juice" and decided that he needed a juice box right away. Then he decided he needed to run around the gym at full speed and have yet another juice box. Then, he realized other then juice boxes and music, there really wasn't much there to attract his interest. Parents were out on the dance floor in their disco gear, busting a move with their kids. Liam wanted no part of it. "I don't like this music, AT ALL! I want to go home and play with my toys. I'm leaving." I enticed him back into the gym with another juice box, an Oreo and the promise of a cupcake if he stayed a little bit and tried to have fun. That lasted about 3 minutes. Conceding defeat, we packed up our gear and left. Approximately 20 minutes after our speedy arrival.

The exit out of the gym was just like when we got there. Suddenly Liam made a sprint for the door. He wanted out of there and fast. Outside we saw his classmate who was just arriving with her parents. "Liam! Liam! Hi!!!" Liam smiled and said "Hey Brooke. We are leaving! I made it 20 minutes!!" I guess in the world of a 5 year old, 20 minutes at a school dance can seem like a lifetime, and maybe in the world of a parent of a 5 year old, too.

Snow Running

The snow fell all weekend--actually it had been falling off and on the past few days. It is a very light, very pretty snow--the kind that makes you want to go out and play a while. Or rather, the kind that you would want to go out and play in, had you not wiped yourself out the day before...

Saturday was my first of three 20 mile runs of the training series. Luckily, a friend at work invited me to be a guest of her running club's weekly group long run. I was happy to have some company on my 3+ hours of running, as well as a new route, pace groups and aid stations every few miles (a real luxury!). We were to meet at 7:15 and then head out according to our pace groups. We had a fair amount of snow friday night and the temps stayed in the low 20's--but luckily we did not have that much of a headwind (again, a luxury this time of the year).

Normally I wear my yaxtrax when it snows (for the non-winter types, yaxtrax are a type of coiled device you wear on the bottom of your shoes to give you traction on ice/snow), but my yaxtrax have a spring loose so I had to go without. The trail was covered with 5-6 inches of snow which made it a bit slow going on the way out, but not nearly half as slow as on the return trip. The packed snow gave way with every step, which made it hard to get a good foothold. You had to work twice as hard to go half as fast. Exhausting. It's about as tired as I've ever been after a long run. Maybe even more then marathon-tired.

Luckily this week is a much needed recovery week. Bring on some easy fun running!

Date Night

Tonight I have a special date. We are going dancing and then afterwards we'll have desert and a drink or two. My date is VERY cute, funny, smart and he likes to eat his boogers. I will try to overlook this as we go to the Parent/Child dance at Arvada Elementary tonight. The theme is "Disco"--which means Liam and I will go wearing what he wore to school and what I wore to work. (Dressing a 5 yo in polyester seems a form of a child abuse). Liam is very excited about the school dance, as am I. It has been a long, long time since I went to one and this time I actually have a date! :-)

A chip off the old block

When I was little I used to write and draw stories all day. One time when I was not much older then Liam is now, I wrote a story about a bodybuilder and then illustrated it by gluing one of my mom's curlers for the weight. I then completed the 3-D piece by cutting my own hair to add to the bodybuilder's chest. As I got older I remember that the best part of summer vacation was having all of my supplies from my "art box" with me at all times--free and ready to use whenever I wanted (as opposed to only doing art once a week in school).

It would seem that Liam is just like his mother when it comes to stories and drawing. He writes stories and draws pictures all day long and then he reads them to us. I have made a point over the years to collect really good children's books--paying particular attention to any Caldecott Medal winners (that is the Oscar Award in the Children's Illustration world). Whenever I read the boys a book I always let them know who wrote it, as well as who illustrated it. Tonight Liam decided to write a story "A Play Day." He took his time to write the words and illustrate the pictures. When it was nearly done he brought the cover over to me and showed me. On it he had drawn a circle--it was a Caldecott Medal. He said "This award lets you know that this book is GOOD. I will read it to you when I'm done."

It makes me smile to see that at age 5, he already has a keen interest in design and art. He is probably the only 5 year old who got the book "1000 of the Worlds Best Logos and Symbols" for Christmas. He is fascinated and a bit obsessed with symbols and signs. He can spot one a mile away and he loves trying to figure them out. Around the house he has placed his own symbols. "This sign means 'Do not crawl here.'" and "I drew this symbol so Beanie wouldn't touch your computer (a circle with a little boy touching a computer and a line through it)." He is a smart boy and wise beyond his years and many days I think he is better than I am.

Secretly, I hope he keeps up with this interest in artful things. I think all parents in some capacity, wish for their children the things that they themselves were never able to achieve or do. But I don't want to put my dreams on to him. I will encourage him and be supportive but I will try my hardest not to make my goals his. I'll let him figure that out on his own. And if he were to one day win a Caldecott Medal I'll live vicariously, albeit privately, through him.

T minus 9 weeks

Monday marked the nine-week warning for my race. Nine weeks from now I will hopefully have this monkey off my back and I can put this Boston business behind me once and for all. The past few weeks of training have been hard mentally as well as physically. I love running. Love, love, LOVE it! But what I love the most about it is that I don't have to think...I just DO. I put on my shoes and can go as far or as fast as I want. Or at least that is how I used to run. Now I have to think about track workouts and pace and thresholds and repeats and hills and it is turning into something a lot like work. The simplicity--which is what I loved so much about running--is now replaced with conscientious effort.

Now don't get me wrong--I am thrilled to be working with a coach and more then willing to put in the work and put forth the effort. Admittedly I am curious to see how much faster I can run 26.2 with the benefit of a really good coach and set workouts. However with these workouts comes the knowledge that I can and should be running much faster. And with this knowledge comes the expectation to do better. And expectations, whether my own or someone elses, have always made me put a lot of pressure on myself. If I don't run what everyone thinks I can run I have let them down and even worse, I have let myself down. While my self-competitive nature secretly craves the discovery of "how fast can I run this?", my heart, misses the innocence of running simply for running's sake.

Hibernation

Today is Friday! Hooray! It has been one of the longer work weeks in memory. It's not even that I am so swamped I feel drained...it is more, my brain feels drained so I feel swamped. (If that makes any sense). I just want to spend a day or two or three laying around being totally lazy. Curled up with a book, a glass of wine and my body ensconced in fleece–my own form of hibernation. But instead of fattening myself up on salmon and berries I will gorge on refined sugars and starchy carbohydrates...I will be slothful and disgusting and I will love it.

Of course I will NOT do any such thing. I will work out and train and run and hike with my handsome husband and we will eat good healthy food without trans fats. I will chase my man-cubs around and I will clean the cave. We will read many books and build many train tracks and block buildings. We will color and cut and paste and watch numerous repeats of the Backyardigans and the Little Einsteins and I will love it because I am the Mamabear and it is the weekend and this is what I do.

"Goals for the Week"

This morning Liam came into my room talking about school. He is VERY excited about the week--on Wednesday it is their "100th Day of School Celebration". Thursday is their Valentine's Day party and Friday and Monday they have off (again). One of the projects he had to work on for today was a secret project for Mrs. jessen. One of the other parents is assembling a collection of handmade valentine's with each child writing what they like best about Mrs. Jessen. Liam did his this morning at the speed of light. I could barely make out what it was ("I like Mrs. Jessen because she teaches us stuff."). One of the things Liam is supposed to work on at school is NOT rushing through everything. When I reminded him of this he said "Mom, I think that should be my goal for the week." I said "You have goals for the week??" Liam said "yes, this week my goals are going to be to write neater, take my time and work on my lowercase letters." Ken and I just looked at each other and laughed.

I love that at age 5, he already sets goals for himself.

The Collector

Our youngest child is a collector. He likes to find multiple things of the same kind of thing and carry them around. All day. Sometimes even multiple days. What the object is really depends on the day. Recently the object(s) of his affection are matchbox cars. He will quite literally spend hours a day lining them up in neat yest sometimes complex,rows. All of them facing in a similar direction. If you have the audacity to try and line them up with him he quickly sets you straight. "NO! (s)TOP IT!!" Beanie clearly has a defined order of how things should go. A month ago he was stuck on three antique model-T type of matchbox cars. He would carry them EVERYWHERE. Even to bed. If one happened to disappear all hell would break loose. He needed and expected everyone to stop what they were doing to find the missing item STAT. It wasn't enough to find another car with similar features, it had to be the EXACT same car that was missing. Beanie will not accept any substitutes. Don't even try.

Sometimes the object is a collection of baby spoons. Sometimes it is a stack of 5 blocks. If a block is missing he will know and then he will let YOU know. Right away. Sometimes at 2am when he wakes up to discover it is missing or "hiding". Bock HIDING! BOCK HIDING! Mommy find it!!! FIND IT! Sometimes the object is a collection of stickers. He will carry them around in his hands ALL DAY. He will go to the park with them. To the store. To pick up brother in school. Etc. The current objects du jour are four small balls with suction cups (i.e."sticky balls") that he must carry everywhere. He woke up this morning telling me one was outside and I said "Beanie--There are no more! You have them all!!" He looked at me and said "(s)Ticky Ball OUTIDE!" And sure enough he was right.

I have come to realize that some kids have security blankies or "lovies", and Beanie has security THINGS. It somehow makes him feel better to always be holding something in his little hands. I guess it is a little piece of his world that he can control all on his own. Unless of course, he loses it, then watch out.

Kindergarten: It's Not All Crayons & Paste

I am constantly amazed at how different kindergarten is then from what I remember. I remember coloring, play time, beginning reading and learning how to tie my shoe. Liam's kindergarten is not that easy. He is learning word patterns and reading and writing and measuring and other beginning math concepts. He has homework every single night. And it's not an easy "color the animal with stripes" kind of assignment. It is more along the lines of "look at this picture and write a full page story about it kind of assignment." And it gets graded. Last week when Liam turned his homework folder in the homework slipped out and he turned in an empty folder. When Emily explained what happened on Monday Mrs. Jessen said "sorry-that will be a two point deduction for being late." Really?? Two points out of a 4 point system? That is half off!

I know the whole point is to establish good study habits and responsibility. I get that. But does it have to be graded in kindergarten? Isn't kindergarten supposed to inspire kids to WANT to learn in the first place? I question giving out grades on homework to little kids who are really and truly trying to do the best they can. Kids (like my perfectionist chid) who may get easily discouraged when they receive a "2" instead of a "4".

I sort of miss the days when if you colored a nice picture and paid attention and showed good manners you could excel in kindergarten. Of course these days, kids are taught that in pre-pre-school.

Your Daily Liam

At the breakfast table this morning...

Liam: "Mommy, can I have a waffle and sausage?"

Me: Wow-you already had two bowls of cereal! Are you sure you can eat all that? I don't want you to waste food. Remember how I was telling you that there are lots of little kids who don't have anything to eat. It would be wrong to take food you can't eat then throw it away..."

Liam: "Yeah, you're right. I think we should take the food and DONUT it to kids who need it!"