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Good Things Come in Small Packages

There are certain groups of toys that I would not miss if we never had them at our house again. These include those racecar tracks that work once and then you can never quite get the tracks to line up right or stay together again; the toys with a million pieces that take hours to build after which you realize they are not really meant to be handled and played with because they do not stay put together in the not so delicate hands of a boy; and toy weapons, which, when you think about it, can really be any toy that you give to a boy. But, there is one group of toys that I like least than all of the others. This group is…the tiny toys. My boys love tiny things. I’m not sure what the attraction is. All I know is the tinier the toy, the more attached to it they become. And the easier it is to lose.

When Jack was little, he had this tiny little lady bug that he carried around and slept with. He lost it at least once a day, but we’d always find it before bedtime. One day we lost it for good. He missed it for awhile but eventually got over it until…dun…dun…dun…he found it again. He was so excited. I on the other hand had hoped to never see that little lady bug again in my life. Because I knew what would happen. He would lose it again and we would have to repeat all of the drama. Which he did. And we did. The very next day.

Now that he is older, I leave it up to him to keep track of his things. He’s pretty good at that, but if he does happen to lose something I usually know where it is or can find it. Sometimes, though, I just have no idea what toy he is talking about or where he was playing with it last or where he might have lost it. All important facts when looking for a lost toy. Here’s a recent conversation with Jack about a lost Star Wars figurine that is approximately the size of a toothpick:

Jack: Mom, I lost Jango Fett.
Me: Have you looked for him?
Jack: I’ve looked everywhere!
Me: Where did you last have him?
Jack: In my hand (said with a “Duh” attitude).
Me: I’ll help you look for him. What does he look like?
Jack: Like Jango Fett (“Duh” again).

Surprisingly enough, with all of the useful information he provided, we have yet to locate the elusive Jango Fett. I’m thinking of hiring a detective.

Here are some of the boys’ favorite tiny things:

I could imagine more comfortable ways to spend a day at the beach, but looking at this picture and Luke’s state of relaxation makes me rethink everything I know about lounge chairs. I think his bucket of water is the perfect end to a hard day of digging in the sand.

Here is another one of those teeny tiny toys that the boys get attached to and lose at least 50 times a day. This one is Luke’s little Pokémon (A side note – the word Pokémon is actually in my spell checker’s dictionary. What is the world coming to?). That is a nickel next to it to provide perspective. You never know how many little nooks and crannies you have in a car until you are trying to find a little toy like this while pulled over on the side of the road.

There is a little village in Colorado called Tiny Town. This is the cutest little place I’ve ever seen. Tiny town is a village of one-sixth-sized buildings with a turn-of-the-century flavor built into the mountainside. A steam train takes you through a tour of the town. When the ride is done, you can explore some of the buildings first hand. Kids always love playhouses. How about a play village?

Doesn’t Luke look like a hungry giant? Notice the drool.

And of course, they love babies, puppies, kittens, and anything that is smaller than they are and that is cute and cuddly. In fact, awhile back they were asking for a baby. Since I am planning on avoiding until the boys are at least 25 years of age any questions about where babies come from and why daddy and mommy can’t (or chose not to) have anymore babies, I simply said, “Babies only stay small for a couple of years. Then they turn into big kids just like you.” That pretty much did the trick. Now they are asking for a puppy.

P.S. I wanted to give a shout out and thank you to my husband’s parents, Frank and Susan, for producing such remarkable offspring and for supporting those offspring in their attempts to realize their every dream.

I Can't Believe You Just Said That!

I think that most people have a mechanism in their body that acts as a filter between the brain and the mouth. The purpose of this mechanism is to review the thoughts in the brain prior to those thoughts escaping through the mouth, and trap them if the thoughts are inappropriate for sharing. Most kids have this mechanism, but at a young age it is faulty and allows a lot of questionable verbiage to slip through. I believe, where my boys are concerned, this mechanism is completely absent.

I’m not talking about a mechanism that would keep my boys from making disgusting noises or talking about disgusting things at inappropriate times. Boys are born with an extra dose of gross factor, and there is no filter in existence that can keep those thoughts and noises from escaping. I tend to think of these types of verbal and other excretions as a toxic cleansing, and required to keep my boys in good health. And, to them, there is nothing funnier than burping at the dinner table or talking about poop when people are eating. And laughter is the best medicine right? Yes, I am delusional but work with me.

I am talking about a mechanism that kicks into action when you see something that is so atypical, so worthy of comment, that everything in your body is trying to make you comment. You don't because the mechanism knows that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. This is where the filter is lacking in my boys. One of the points that I have been trying to get across to them for years is that words have consequences, and although they think something is funny it could seriously hurt someone else’s feelings.

Take for example my son Jack. Jack has always liked big bellies. He thinks that people that are overweight look great. As long as I can remember he has wanted a big belly. When he talks about people’s big bellies he is doing it approvingly, although they would have no way of knowing this. We have tried to get this point across to him, telling him most people do not want big bellies and that it would make them sad if he told them they had big bellies or talked about their big bellies. He has been trying his best to remember this and not give overweight people his “complements.”

Here are some of our classic blunders:

We were eating out one day when a loud woman walked in with her equally loud children. Of course they caught our attention. Jack asked, “Why is that daddy yelling at his kids?” Did I mention the woman looked rather manly? I said, “I don’t know, it’s none of our business, and that is their mommy not their daddy.” “It is so their daddy,” Jack continued to argue. Change the subject, quick! So we moved on to something else. That is, until the family walked by our table. Jack proclaimed loudly, “I told you that is the daddy!” This is the point that I stared directly at my food and pretended not to hear him. What do you do in a situation like that? Especially when the person your child is insulting is obviously capable of inflicting serious pain to anyone he she is unhappy with.

Another dining out experience (Most of our verbal blunders take place at restaurants. I wonder why that is? You think we’d learn our lesson and not eat out.) resulted in Jack saying the wrong thing by trying really, really hard not to say the wrong thing. I saw it coming; I just couldn’t stop it. A couple walked in, and the gentleman had a very large belly. I saw them, and saw Jack watching them. They got closer, and closer, and closer. Jack was in mid-sentence about something else, so I thought they would be able to pass safely by our table. But, with classic use of run-on sentences, his normal conversation was interrupted right when they approached our table with, “And I’m not going to talk about how big that guy’s belly is.” We gave him an A for effort, and then later explained to him that yelling that you aren’t going to talk about someone’s big belly right in front of them is still talking about their big belly.

At the bank one day, I was standing in line with Luke and there was an elderly woman in front of us that thought Luke was cute and started talking to us. Luke said, “She looks like the Emperor.” As in the Return of the Jedi Emperor. For those of you who have never seen Star Wars, being called the Emperor is not a complement. And is it wrong of me that I couldn’t help chuckling? It was so unexpected.

We are not Catholic, but will attend Catholic Mass with John’s family on Christmas Eve when we are in Jefferson City. One year when we attended Mass, Jack was a little over 2 years old and hadn’t spent much time in church yet. In Catholic Mass, there is an order in which the congregation has specific responses to greetings and prayers spoken by the priest or bishop. A few minutes into it, and in a moment of silence, Jack spoke very loudly (Why are inappropriate comments always spoken very loudly and during a lull in the surrounding noises?), “Why do we have to say everything that guy says?” That got a chuckle from several rows of surrounding churchgoers.

And never, ever try to tell a little white lie when my boys are within earshot. Especially to a police officer when you have been pulled over for speeding. They’ll rat you out every time. But, that’s a story for another day.

Sunday Inspirations

Sometimes it is hard for me to get motivated for the week ahead. I hadn't planned on posting on the weekends, but thought it might be nice to begin the week with a little inspiration from influential women. What better day to do that than on Sunday? Here's the first of Sunday Inspirations:

Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage.

Maya Angelou

Feel free to share some of your favorite quotes.

P.S. If Sundays are for inspiration, Saturdays are for laughs. Check out yesterday's joke, and look for more on future Saturdays.

Saturday Laughs

My father-in-law Frank sent me this and I thought it was funny. This has been floating around the web for years, and I don't know who the author is to give credit.

Eight Words with two Meanings:

1. THINGY (thing-ee) n.
Female... Any part under a car's hood.
Male... The strap fastener on a woman's bra.

2. VULNERABLE (vul-ne-ra-bel) adj.
Female... Fully opening up one's self emotionally to another.
Male... Playing football without a cup.

3. COMMUNICATION (ko-myoo-ni-kay-shon) n.
Female... The open sharing of thoughts and feelings with one's partner.
Male... Leaving a note before taking off on a fishing trip with the boys.

4. COMMITMENT (ko-mit-ment) n.
Female... A desire to get married and raise a family.
Male... Trying not to hit on other women while out with this one.

5. ENTERTAINMENT (en-ter-tayn-ment) n.
Female... A good movie, concert, play or book.
Male... Anything that can be done while drinking beer.

6. FLATULENCE (flach-u-lens) n.
Female... An embarrassing byproduct of indigestion.
Male... A source of entertainment, self-expression, male bonding.

7 MAKING LOVE (may-king luv) n.
Female... The greatest expression of intimacy a couple can achieve.
Male... Call it whatever you want, just as long as we do it.

8. REMOTE CONTROL (ri-moht kon-trohl) n.
Female... A device for changing from one TV channel to another.
Male... A device for scanning through all 375 channels every 5 minutes.

An Ode To Shasta

My dog coughed (yes, coughed) most of the night for the last two nights. She sounded like an elephant with a chicken stuck in her throat. The vet said this may happen. She has a heart murmur and it will get increasingly difficult for her to breathe lying down and sleep comfortably. She is, after all, almost 14 years old (February 23, 2007).

I write so much about my boys on this blog, I thought it was time to write about my one and only girl, Shasta Ice Princess (name given by others). I got Shasta when I moved to Florida after college and had no friends or family nearby. She will always be my “first born.” Those that treat their pets as children will understand this. She graciously took a backseat when the boys came along. As they grow, she loves them equally whether they are playing with her or ignoring her.

I could write pages and pages about Shasta and her special qualities and our life together. But, I’d rather post photographs so I’ll just share one thing.

Shasta is very old, so is not as playful as she once was. She is also deaf, so calling her name to get her attention is no longer an option. She sleeps so soundly that we have to shake her to wake her up. Every time I do this, I fear that I will give her a heart attack. Her deafness has increased her olfactory abilities, however. She can be in another room sound asleep when I arrive home, and my scent will wake her from her slumber and she will find me in the house. She has always had a good sense of smell. Before we had kids, we had to play hide-and-go seek with our dog. Shasta could find my husband hidden somewhere in the house by smell alone. Whenever I asked, “Where is he?” she would run off to look for him. And find him without any hints from me. What a genius!