Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Life With Dylan

Dylan is genuinely one of the oddest people I've ever met. This is a good thing; I find being a stay-at-home mom really dull in a lot of ways. I'd probably be working or in the loony bin right now if he weren't so ... well, here's a sampling.:

Frequently, he'll take off running out of the room exclaiming, "I have to go to pee!!" His pants are down before he hits the poster in the hallway about atoms. A few minutes later, I'll hear him reading the text on the poster about atomic mass and electric current, etc. His pants are still down. "Dylan, did you pee?" "No," he says in his sweet breathy voice. "Go pee." "OK." Off again to the bathroom.

He asks to go downstairs to see the fire extinguisher. He also locates every last one in any building we are in (I feel much safer now that I know there are about 2 fire extinguishers per square foot in any given commercial building). He'll either stand directly in front of it like an English pointer, his nose perfectly in line with the extinguisher, and ask "what is that?" or look at it sidelong through his eyelashes, point to it with a fully extended arm while leaning the rest of his body away from it, and ask "what is that?" It is always, always a fire extinguisher.

I spent 10 minutes alone with him at dinner last night. Here is the succession of events during that time:
1) "Can you spell 'EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY ALARM WILL SOUND'?" I do, and leave out the 'g' on purpose. He catches it and demands I respell.
2) After gazing into the distance for a minute or so, he asks "Can I poke you in the eye?" to which I say "no".
3) It's quiet and now I'm gazing off into the distance, probably dreaming up a better place to be. I see movement. He is studying the shadow the spoon is casting onto his shirt, angling it for different effects. When he bores of this, he wipes his shirt vigorously. I realize that he began playing around with the spoon shadows before the bite of soup reached his mouth and the soup spilled on his shirt.
4) A brief period of spelling things backwards ensues. He then decides to cut out the middleman and faceplants himself into his pizza in order to save himself the bother of using his hands. I do nothing to stop this, as I am busy trying to reconcile the person who can read the poster about the atom pretty near fluently at the age of four with the person who is attacking his pizza like a wild dog.
5) My mind has gone into a state of overload by this point. I start actual research on better places to be.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Essential Conversations to Have with Your Children

If you turn off the radio while driving your first-grader to school, you may have a conversation like this:

"Mom, can we mummify some of our pets?" (Our sole pet is a parakeet, by the way.)

"No."

"Please? I'll hook out the brains."

"Ew. No."

"And Dad can remove the organs, such as the liver and lungs!"

"Probably not going to happen."

"Dylan can salt the body and let it sit for 40 days. All you have to do is rub it with scented (she pronounced it 'seen-ted') oils."

"We'll worry about it when the time comes."

I guess she likes the book about mummies I bought her for Christmas. Hopefully the parakeet doesn't die for a few more years.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Prayer Chart

Abby was ticked off this morning that Travis didn't call on her for family prayer. He told her we could make a prayer chart next FHE to make sure everyone got a turn. She beat us to it; before she walked out the door to meet the bus, she handed me this:

Prar frst Momy
Praer sekit Abigail
prear thrd Dad
prear frth Dylin

And that's the new prear chrt.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

A Thought

Gouging eyes out. Ripping ears off. Scrape, slice, skin. Shred. Grate. Chop. The things we do to our vegetables are inhumane.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Abby Musings

A few hilarious things Abby has said in the past few weeks:

(Coming out of Primary) "Mom, look at my picture of the tenth leopard!" Of course, I then had to explain leprosy to her. Which led to her coming home from kindergarten saying, "Muneer was sick today. He had leprosy." She whispered the word as she leaned her head into mine, eyes as big as dinner plates. This might actually be possible: I discovered how very many immigrants attend her school when, exiting the bus, she shouted, "Mom! The principal of the whole school is brown and she even speaks ENGLISH!"

Monday, June 4, 2012

A True Carnivore

Abby has a strong streak of compassion running through her veins, so it always surprises me how she views animals. They are, simply put, animals. I'm the opposite; adults can take care of themselves (generally), while animals are subject to our whims and suffer for it. A few Sundays ago, she held up this weird picture of a creature that had zigzags all over it. When I asked what it was, she said, "It's a pig. It's being cut up to make ham." "Oh! That's very nice, Abby." At her preschool picnic, I asked her if she wanted to eat a fried chicken leg. "Yeah! That sounds great!" A few minutes later she was licking the last bits of flesh off the bone (she'd never had fried chicken before. I guess she liked it.) and said happily, "Mom, I'm eating meat off the bones of a dead animal! But the bones are really fragile because it's dead." Huh. I hear of many children who refuse to eat meat when they discover it comes from animals, but my daughter, a kid who takes care of anyone she perceives as needing help, thinks it's great.



Friday, May 4, 2012

XOXOXO

For the past week or so, a strange conversation happens several times a day:

Abby: Dylan, do you want a hug and kiss?

Dylan: NO! (as petulantly as you can imagine. This is not feigned grumpiness.)

Abby: No hug and kiss for you, then.

Dylan, frantic: Hug and kiss! I want a hug and kiss! 

Abby: OK! (hug and kiss ensues)

I hear this all of the time around here. All of the time.This can happen five times in a row and still Dylan falls for it.

Things could be worse.