As a 4-year old, Henry often questions the constructs of relationships - romantic, familial, friendships. This leads to a lot of amusing conversations. Just when you think he's got the basics, we start back at the beginning. In honor of Valentine's Day, here is a transcript of a recent, ongoing conversation.
Henry (with slightly wistful tone), Mommy, when is Daddy going to find someone?
I'd like to think he already has.
What? What do you mean?
What do you mean?
(with a slightly exasperated tone) I mean, when is Daddy going to get married?
Daddy IS married.
What?!! To who??
Me.
You! (with a slightly incredulous tone) You?
Yes, Henry, Daddy is married to me. Daddy is my husband, and I am his wife.
You got married. To Daddy?
Yes.
(with a slightly indignant tone) WHEN???
Seven years ago.
Was I there?
No. You weren't born yet.
(with a slightly jealous tone) Was Charlie there?
No, he wasn't born yet either.
(with a slightly curious tone) How did Daddy ask you to marry him?
Umm, on a beach. He said, will you marry me?
And you said yes?
Yes.
(with a slightly worried tone) Well, Mommy, how will I know that the person is going to say yes when I ask them to marry me?
Oh Henry. You'll know.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Monday, October 15, 2012
Because it's an election year
is really the reason that I haven't been able to update the blog in 4 (four?!) months. Charlie is a political junkie and although it may be difficult to discern his actual party affiliation (blame the moderators), he is not afraid to respond to the tough questions with concise, decisive language.
Friday, July 6, 2012
An artistic temperament?
Sadly, I am not artistic, but my children have at least a hope of having some talent because they stand to inherit a genetic predisposition to artistic abilities from both sides of their family tree. As illustrated by this morning's comments, Henry may have inherited an artistic ability, or at least an artistic temperament. After his breakfast, Henry likes to draw on his easel (he prefers the natural morning light). This morning, preempting my daily tooth-brushing reminder...
Henry: Mommy, I will brush my teeth after I am done with my creation. Do not ask me to brush my teeth until I am done, please. If you interrupt my work to tell me to brush my teeth, then I will not be able to finish my creation.
Me: You have until I am done brushing Charlie's teeth to finish your CREATION. Then, it will be time for you to brush your teeth.
Henry: Mommy, when you talk, it interrupts me, and I cannot hear what the drawing is saying to me.
I place Charlie on the ground. He toddles towards the easel. Smile wide. Eyes sparkling with mischief. Broken crayon in sticky hand.
Henry: Mommy! Mommy, pick up Charlie. No, Charlie! Charlie respect my creation. Charlie, respect my cre-a-tion!
Poor Henry, when will his genius be recognized? Must he suffer this bourgeois life?
Henry: Mommy, I will brush my teeth after I am done with my creation. Do not ask me to brush my teeth until I am done, please. If you interrupt my work to tell me to brush my teeth, then I will not be able to finish my creation.
Me: You have until I am done brushing Charlie's teeth to finish your CREATION. Then, it will be time for you to brush your teeth.
Henry: Mommy, when you talk, it interrupts me, and I cannot hear what the drawing is saying to me.
I place Charlie on the ground. He toddles towards the easel. Smile wide. Eyes sparkling with mischief. Broken crayon in sticky hand.
Henry: Mommy! Mommy, pick up Charlie. No, Charlie! Charlie respect my creation. Charlie, respect my cre-a-tion!
Poor Henry, when will his genius be recognized? Must he suffer this bourgeois life?
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
A good first impression.
This week marks the transition of the kids to a new "school year" at daycare. Henry has new teachers and a lot of new classmates. Charlie has the same teachers and friends but a new room. The daycare was closed all last week in order to prepare for this transition.
On the first day of the new year, Henry's class had kind of a "what I did on my one week break" discussion. The teachers posted the responses for all to read.
Many children shared stories of going to the zoo and museums, visiting grandparents, playing outside, swimming...
What did Henry tell his class that he did on his week off?
"We had parties and watched TV."
Really, Henry? Really? This is what you shared with everyone. You went to the zoo and a museum. You visited grandparents, you took a plane, you swam in a pool, you went to a park, you even made some jewelry! I swear, new teachers and fellow parents, we didn't actually spend the entire week watching TV all day because we were too hung over from our parties at night. It was just that one day. And, really, you should have been there because that party was E P I C.
On the first day of the new year, Henry's class had kind of a "what I did on my one week break" discussion. The teachers posted the responses for all to read.
Many children shared stories of going to the zoo and museums, visiting grandparents, playing outside, swimming...
What did Henry tell his class that he did on his week off?
"We had parties and watched TV."
Really, Henry? Really? This is what you shared with everyone. You went to the zoo and a museum. You visited grandparents, you took a plane, you swam in a pool, you went to a park, you even made some jewelry! I swear, new teachers and fellow parents, we didn't actually spend the entire week watching TV all day because we were too hung over from our parties at night. It was just that one day. And, really, you should have been there because that party was E P I C.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Meg-a-lif
Yesterday morning Henry asked me if he could have a meg-a-lif to eat. I said, "A what?" He repeated, "A MEG-A-LIF." I said that I didn't know what a meg-a-lif was. He said, "You know, when I ask Daddy for a snack and he says (Henry takes a robotic tone) meg-a-lif."
Mike often responds to inquiries with either a crisp "affirmative" or "negative"*. And often, Henry's requests for snacks prior to dinner are met with a simple "negative."
*This tendency to respond with either affirmative or negative could be the result of years in the Navy or just years of watching Star Trek.
Mike often responds to inquiries with either a crisp "affirmative" or "negative"*. And often, Henry's requests for snacks prior to dinner are met with a simple "negative."
*This tendency to respond with either affirmative or negative could be the result of years in the Navy or just years of watching Star Trek.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Dog Sundae - In which I stretch out a nonevent at the ice cream shop into a really long story
"One chocolate milkshake, one dino sundae, and a single scoop of Oreo ice cream, please, " is what I said to the woman working at our favorite ice cream place. Mike and I had taken Henry there as a special treat for behaving so well during his Dr appointment. Henry's favorite treat is the Dino Sundae, which is as it sounds, a dinosaur cookie stuck in a sundae.
The woman replied, "A chocolate milkshake, a dino sundae and a what?"
I repeated, "A chocolate milkshake a dino sundae and a single scoop of Oreo, please."
She said, "OK, that's a chocolate milkshake, a dino sundae and a single scoop of Oreo. Coming right up."
I am painstakingly transcribing this banter because I want to emphasize that the phrase dino sundae was spoken at least four different times during the exchange.
She returns to the counter, totals up the items, and then passes them through the window: the Oreo scoop, the milkshake, and a small dish that contained the tiniest, most perfectly spherical scoop of vanilla ice cream you have ever seen, placed next to a dog bone-shaped cookie. I glanced around looking for another customer who had forgotten their order. Usually, I am the type who meekly accepts the wrong order just so that I can avoid engaging in any additional dialogue that will only just exacerbate the original miscommunication. However, this time, since the order was intended for a 3 year old who had been hopping wildly about making up songs about how much he loved and couldn't wait to consume his Dino Sundae!!, I didn't want to deal with a meltdown. So, I said to the woman, "Oh, I asked for a Dino Sundae."
She politely, yet firmly, clarified my order, "You asked for a dog sundae."
I have to admit, I really admired her composure in this situation. Who cares about the customer always being right, she was poised and unyielding in her interpretation of events: I gave her the wrong order, and I was unclear.
I was flummoxed about what to say next (see, this is exactly why I usually just accept the wrong order in the first place! Now, I had to respond and engage).
I started to say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but I meant..." but then I changed tactics. She was direct and polite, I'll be direct and polite. I didn't accept blame for the misunderstanding, nor did I blame her. I just said in response, "I need a Dino Sundae." and then I pointed to the PICTURE OF THE DAMN DINO SUNDAE RIGHT NEXT TO THE COUNTER because, you see, the Dino Sundae is one of their signature items and is probably ordered 100 times a day so it is not very likely that someone would order something like a dog sundae. What is a dog sundae, anyway? Do people order sundaes for their dogs? I wanted to explain that there is no way that I accidentally misspoke and said dog sundae because I didn't know they existed, there is no picture of them on the menu board unlike every other item offered at the stand, I don't have a dog, and if I did have a dog, I just don't think I would be the type of person who would buy the dog its own sundae. But I didn't say any of that.
She returned a minute later with a dino sundae. I thanked her for the items, and then, because I am weak and couldn't stand not having closure on a non-event and even though it so was not my fault, I still said, "And I am sorry about the misunderstanding."
To which, she responded, laughing and in a cheery tone, "Oh, yeah, I was wondering what you were talking about with the dog sundae. I had never heard of that!"
So, wait... WHAT? She had never even heard of a dog sundae? She thought she heard a customer order an item that was not on the menu, she then proceeded to assemble what she envisioned the nonexistent menu item to look like (without requesting any further clarifications from customer, coworkers or supervisor, I might add), charged money for the newly created menu item (she must have estimated a price point?), and then rejected the idea, even the faintest possibility, that the customer never asked for this item in the first place. Wow. That person could teach me a thing or two about self-confidence.
The woman replied, "A chocolate milkshake, a dino sundae and a what?"
I repeated, "A chocolate milkshake a dino sundae and a single scoop of Oreo, please."
She said, "OK, that's a chocolate milkshake, a dino sundae and a single scoop of Oreo. Coming right up."
I am painstakingly transcribing this banter because I want to emphasize that the phrase dino sundae was spoken at least four different times during the exchange.
She returns to the counter, totals up the items, and then passes them through the window: the Oreo scoop, the milkshake, and a small dish that contained the tiniest, most perfectly spherical scoop of vanilla ice cream you have ever seen, placed next to a dog bone-shaped cookie. I glanced around looking for another customer who had forgotten their order. Usually, I am the type who meekly accepts the wrong order just so that I can avoid engaging in any additional dialogue that will only just exacerbate the original miscommunication. However, this time, since the order was intended for a 3 year old who had been hopping wildly about making up songs about how much he loved and couldn't wait to consume his Dino Sundae!!, I didn't want to deal with a meltdown. So, I said to the woman, "Oh, I asked for a Dino Sundae."
She politely, yet firmly, clarified my order, "You asked for a dog sundae."
I have to admit, I really admired her composure in this situation. Who cares about the customer always being right, she was poised and unyielding in her interpretation of events: I gave her the wrong order, and I was unclear.
I was flummoxed about what to say next (see, this is exactly why I usually just accept the wrong order in the first place! Now, I had to respond and engage).
I started to say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but I meant..." but then I changed tactics. She was direct and polite, I'll be direct and polite. I didn't accept blame for the misunderstanding, nor did I blame her. I just said in response, "I need a Dino Sundae." and then I pointed to the PICTURE OF THE DAMN DINO SUNDAE RIGHT NEXT TO THE COUNTER because, you see, the Dino Sundae is one of their signature items and is probably ordered 100 times a day so it is not very likely that someone would order something like a dog sundae. What is a dog sundae, anyway? Do people order sundaes for their dogs? I wanted to explain that there is no way that I accidentally misspoke and said dog sundae because I didn't know they existed, there is no picture of them on the menu board unlike every other item offered at the stand, I don't have a dog, and if I did have a dog, I just don't think I would be the type of person who would buy the dog its own sundae. But I didn't say any of that.
She returned a minute later with a dino sundae. I thanked her for the items, and then, because I am weak and couldn't stand not having closure on a non-event and even though it so was not my fault, I still said, "And I am sorry about the misunderstanding."
To which, she responded, laughing and in a cheery tone, "Oh, yeah, I was wondering what you were talking about with the dog sundae. I had never heard of that!"
So, wait... WHAT? She had never even heard of a dog sundae? She thought she heard a customer order an item that was not on the menu, she then proceeded to assemble what she envisioned the nonexistent menu item to look like (without requesting any further clarifications from customer, coworkers or supervisor, I might add), charged money for the newly created menu item (she must have estimated a price point?), and then rejected the idea, even the faintest possibility, that the customer never asked for this item in the first place. Wow. That person could teach me a thing or two about self-confidence.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Pizza wars
Last night we read a bedtime story about attending a pizza party...
Henry: I like pizza parties.
Me: (fairly certain that Henry had never actually attended a pizza party) Maybe you can have a pizza party with your friends someday? I went a pizza party once, and it was fun.
Henry: Well, I went to a pizza party when I was a baby.
Me: One time, when I was a little girl, my Brownie troop went to the Pizza Hut on a field trip and I got to make my own little personal pizza with whatever I wanted on top.
Henry: (clearly not impressed) Well, one time, I went to a party and it was with my friends but we rode in a school bus to a big skyscraper building and there was a egg and the egg cracked open and there was a pizza inside and I ate it except it wasn't a pizza it was just a shadow of a pizza so I had to take the space shuttle then rocket then airplane and then go down the slide with Daddy into the garden. The pink rose garden that we planted and it smelled so nice. A giant bird looked at us and flew away. We went inside the house and my friends were there for a party with bubbles everywhere and we had pizza.
Me: OKAY. I GET IT. YOU WIN.
Henry: I like pizza parties.
Me: (fairly certain that Henry had never actually attended a pizza party) Maybe you can have a pizza party with your friends someday? I went a pizza party once, and it was fun.
Henry: Well, I went to a pizza party when I was a baby.
Me: One time, when I was a little girl, my Brownie troop went to the Pizza Hut on a field trip and I got to make my own little personal pizza with whatever I wanted on top.
Henry: (clearly not impressed) Well, one time, I went to a party and it was with my friends but we rode in a school bus to a big skyscraper building and there was a egg and the egg cracked open and there was a pizza inside and I ate it except it wasn't a pizza it was just a shadow of a pizza so I had to take the space shuttle then rocket then airplane and then go down the slide with Daddy into the garden. The pink rose garden that we planted and it smelled so nice. A giant bird looked at us and flew away. We went inside the house and my friends were there for a party with bubbles everywhere and we had pizza.
Me: OKAY. I GET IT. YOU WIN.
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