Growing Up

Recent milestones:


1. Gage called me “mom” instead of “mommy” for the first time.

2. Pacey learned to make armpit farts.

Both make me want to cry.

Inside the Third Grade Lunch Table

I’ve been lamenting (whining?) for the past year or so over the changes I’ve noticed in Pacey. He’s suddenly gone from this cute little preschool/kindergarten boy to an elementary school boy. I’m not so sure what I think of elementary school boys yet. And lately, he has been driving me insane every time we are in the car, flexing his sense of humor and trying to get his brother to be the butt of all of his jokes. Where on earth is all of this coming from, I’ve wondered? I have suspected that school is the answer, and yesterday, my suspicions were confirmed. The downfall of our cute preschool/kindergarten students is directly related to the lunch table. Oh yes, it’s a very serious situation, and I was lucky (or unlucky) enough to witness it firsthand.

I was given a very secret invitation by Pacey to be a part of his lunch time yesterday, and while I was there, here is a slightly abridged transcript of the brief 25 minutes…

1. Pacey tapped me and said, “You’ve got the cheese touch.” Luckily a nice little girl told me to pass it to her (such a martyr), and she passed the dreaded cheese touch down the table.

2. But then this nice little girl reached over and tapped Pacey and said, “You’ve got the girl touch. Now you’re a girl permanently because you didn’t pass it on in ten seconds.”

3. Pacey holds up Spock’s live long and prosper hand sign and says, “Uh-uh, I have the ultimate protection.”

4. Pacey then says, “Spell the word ‘ip,’ Mommy.”

5. I sighed and told him I wasn’t going to fall for that one. To which he replied, “Okay, spell Mississippi.”

6. Then his friend says, “You are smart. Spell it.” Pacey had obviously heard this one before because he quickly spelled the word ‘it’ (I would have failed because in my head I was already spelling out y-o-u…) and moved on to attempting to get people to stare at a spot for more than 5 seconds. Any spot. And if you stare at it for more than 5 seconds, you lose.

I lost.

I couldn’t hang with the third grade lunch table.

Scrabble Gone Wild

This is what happens when you are playing Scrabble-to-Go with a 9 year old boy and you (being six months pregnant) take a bathroom break and return to find a snickering boy at the table.
Me, being (or pretending to be) the cool, and collected mom that I am, reminded him that a “dam” is something a beaver builds, but before I ventured to the more unsettling word he crafted, I asked him what it meant.

His reply was a little unnerving, a little eye-opening, a little gut-wrenching because it means he’s really growing up, and I’m just not ready for it yet: “It’s when you’re married, and you’re naked in bed.”

Gulp.

Let me preface this by saying that the boys have never witnessed this in my house, so I’m guessing this new knowledge has come by way of the playground or the cafeteria table, and though I guess he could know more details, the fact that he could relay this much was too much.

No matter how much you prepare yourself for “the talk” and other hard conversations like this, you never quite know how to deal with them in the moment.

Luckily, I squelched the internal screaming and tried to validate his assumption without giving away too much information:
“Well, that’s probably more than you need to worry about or know about right now, but it also means whether you are a boy or a girl, so if someone asks you what sex you are, you would say boy, and I would say girl.”
That seemed to satisfy him for the moment.
I’m still recovering and have decided that I’d really be okay if this was the extent of his knowledge on the topic indefinitely.

It would mean that:

1. He would think only married people participate.

2. If he happens to decide otherwise, at least simple nakedness doesn’t lead to teen pregnancy.

We have to hold on to something, right?

Car Trips 101

Surviving Long Car Trips 101


1.Electronic devices.

2.See above.

3.Switch devices and repeat.

Picky Boy

What’s wrong with this shirt?

Nothing. It’s cute. It’s blue. It’s new. It has a pirate ship! So why won’t Gage wear it? Because it has two buttons. He hates button shirts. And what else? Striped shirts. “Hard” pants. Button pants. Tie shoes. And I’m sure I’ve forgotten something else that is on his list of particulars.

Seriously? He’s a boy. I thought they’d wear anything!

Fighting. Always.

We woke up at 7:30 today.
It’s now about 8:45.
The boys have been fighting for 10 minutes.
They have each been placed in solitary confinement and have been forbidden to look at, talk to, or even breathe around each other.
It’s going to be a long day off.
Happy Veteran’s Day.
Sigh.

Third Grade Artwork

Only from a boy.  Girls don't do these things.

Pure Joy

What happens when you leave a boy alone with his Halloween candy: