Oh, wow! I just remembered something. I HAVE A BLOG. My life has been taken over by a women’s retreat, which will sound really crazy to any of you who have not been to one or helped coordinate one. No time to explain. I randomly clicked on an archived post and found it amusing, so I’m gonna repost. It’s from the days when I had a new 3 year old and a 4 month old–October of 2008. Enjoy!
OK, seriously, my son cracks me up. I can’t even remember all the funny things he says. I’m loving this part of 3 years old. Lots of talking and conversation all day. Except this conversation that happens a lot. Imagine me doing the dishes and Carson talking but also kind of gazing off, not exactly sure of what he wants to say:
M: WHAT, Carson?
M: I’M LISTENING CARSON. WHAT DO YOU NEED?
This one is a classic, though. It happened last week:
C: Mom, Sydney can stay for just a little bit.
M: What do you mean?
C: She can stay, but only for a little bit.
M: You mean stay on my lap or stay in our house?
C: Stay here in our house. Just for a little bit. Then she has to go back.
M: Go back where?
C: To the doctor.
But this one made me happy. At least I know he’s listening! Just now, C and hubby are wrestling on the bed. I hear this:
C: Daddy! Don’t do that! You are making a choice! Make a good choice!
Also, I have a new revelation. For three years I have studied, shopped, researched, interviewed and longed for The Toy. You know, that elusive Toy that would fill the void in my child’s life. The Toy that would beckon to him all day long. The Toy that would keep him entertained WHILST educating him for hours on end. We have a bedroom full of toys, but not The Toy.
Turns out, the equivalent to The Toy was here all along: in his head. His imagination starting shaping last year but it has multiplied exponentially in the last month. It is absolutely filling our days.
One frequent game in our house stems from the doctor’s kit he got for his birthday. First we examined each other back and forth, multiple times a day. Then I added the element of a clip board, and when I was the doc, I asked him questions about height, weight, ailment, etc. and wrote the answer down. This caught his attention, and then he was not to be seen all day without the clipboard and a crayon, asking me all kinds of personal questions and “writing” the answer down. (I don’t think he spelled “none of your business” correctly.) But one time, I asked about his family and if he had any pets. THIS then morphed into the clipboard interview about all of his animals and then my animals. And people, there are a lot of animals. C-dog is not super confident on all his letters, but he KNOWS his animals. (Ironic, since I’m not exactly a member of PETA.) He told me all about his mouse, elephant, dog, fish, lion, meerkat, hamster, racoon, dolphin, tiger, giraffe, beetle, etc. They all have names, but often the names are of characters from the last movie or TV show he watched, or whatever phonetical sounds come flowing out of his mouth. Yesterday there were several animals named Lurla or Choolee.
NOW the imaginary animals have taken the form of the stereotypical imaginary friend/animals. He has a bunny, a cat and 2 dogs that have been consistently with us (and I mean CONSISTENTLY–Target? check. Bathtime? check. Dinner? check.) for 2 days. Cute? Sure, for a while. But at nap time yesterday, I hear this:
“Mom! MOM! Hurry, MOM! THE DOOR’S CLOSED AND MY BUNNY CAN’T GET OUT! HE HAS TO GO POTTY! DO YOU HEAR ME? HURRY!!!”
Sigh. I gave in and opened the door for the bunny to pee. Then:
“MOM! The bunny can’t get back in! LET MY BUNNY BACK IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
I really don’t mind that all my tupperware has been spread out all day because, evidently, this cat, 2 dogs and bunny are quite hungry. He feeds them approximately every 10 minutes. But when I’m trying to calm a crying baby and he asks me to feed them, and I pour “food” into all the bowls, he had a total meltdown because I gave dog food to the cat. I’m totally serious. I’m even kind of embarassed to tell you about the bed I made for the dogs in the car so we could leave the garage.
Wanna know my little secret to keeping my sanity? I convinced him to name the cat Monica, one of the dogs Chandler and the bunny Rachel. It makes me giggle every time. 😉