For days now Dashiell has been going on and on about a makeup gym class he is going to take with Mr. James, a super sporty guy in town who is one-part coach and one-part clown and teaches special gym classes at the Pre-K. The classes were scheduled in the winter, but with all the snow days, they missed a few and are now trying squeeze them into the last month of school.

Yesterday it rained again and his teacher told him that Mr. James makeup class would have to be postponed for one more day. Dashiell walked up to her and asked, “Mrs. Showell, when we do the makeup class are we putting the makeup on lips or our cheeks?”

She said it was very hard to keep a straight face and try to explain that it wasn’t a makeup class it was a make up class.

Even funnier, later that day the boys were up in my office playing on the computer and when I came up this morning I found the father from my dollhouse wearing the mother’s gold beaded necklace. Now, Conrad is a lego.com hog and I’m sure Mr. Dashiell had to occupy himself while waiting for his brother to let him have a turn and apparently he did.

Last night I was while flipping channels between the Westminster Dog Show and Men’s Figure Skating I was struck by yet another another stunning resemblance in both poise and showmanship.

Top, Ch Roundtown Mercedes Of Maryscot winner of the Best in Show; bottom, Evan Lysacek, USA Men’s Figure Skater who placed second in the short program.

Today Conrad told me that one of his friends who was at our house for a playdate told Conrad that I was a mean mom.

I should know better, but my feelings are hurt and what’s worse, I keep reviewing the afternoon to figure out what would have made me seem mean. We did get a flat tire but the thanks to the very friendly guys in my town the whole thing was over in about 20 minutes. I also scolded Conrad for eating his brother’s snack, but I can’t think of anything else.

It might be time for me to spend my afternoons with taller people.

Tonight, out of the blue Conrad said, “Oh you know what would be funny? If Barak Obama was a rock and he’d be the president and there would be a rock for a president and you could dress him up and he’d talk and say things like, ‘Ok Conrad you don’t have to go to school or he’d say ok you can have a birthday party or you can eat candy now.’” David and I just looked at him and said, “You mean like a Pet Rock President?”

Other Presidential moments:

When I asked Conrad what the teachers said at school about watching the inauguration at school and he said: they told us to be quiet.

But then at dinner he told me they watched the inauguration in the gym on a huge television screen and played an elaborate game where whenever they saw a member of the Obama family they ran to different place in the gym and had to hop and run all around.

Saturday morning I was helping Conrad unbuckle his seatbelt to hustle him into Tae Kwan Do and he looked at me and he said, “You know mom, I know its not easy to be a mommy.”

wow.

Conrad is definitely out of sorts. He has come back to school with the post-break blahs. He and his best friend seem to be having a little trouble in paradise. My son is playing the needy why-can’t-we-just-stay-home-and-play-Lego girlfriend and his best buddy is cast as the free-spirit who is ready to backpack the Himalayas. Now granted, last night he insisted on sleeping on the floor and too tired to fight it, I let him, while making a mental note to put him back in his bed (but then I went on facebook and completely forgot! Total doghouse moment with David.) So he pretty much slept on the floor until 4am when he woke up crying about a torn fingernail which I trimmed and treated with antiseptic and then tucked him back into bed. He is genuinely tired, but also doing an amazing Morrissey impression. Here’s a few of his happiest moments in the last 24 hours.

“That’s horrible!”

On being told that I was able to book his birthday party for two weeks from Saturday.

“Three terrible things happened today and I can’t tell you what they are.”

His response when I asked him how his day was, and don’t worry I got the scoop.

“I’m never going into the unknown.”

Muttered in the car on the way to Tae Kwan Do

“No he’s not coming home in a little bit. He’s hurt on the street and in the rain and his leg is bleeding and he’s never gonna get home in time to kiss me goodnight because he’s really hurt and you should care.”

On whether David would be home in time to kiss him goodnight even though David’s bike got a flat tire and he had to walk instead of ride home.

We’re potting training Dash and don’t have nearly enough underpants to deal with his perpetual accidents so this morning I offered him a pair of Conrad’s classic white Hannah Anderson briefs with the extra fabric in the crotch for training. He saw the underwear and shook he is head, took them from me and put them back in the drawer. “No, mommy,” he said, “I need something awesome and cute.”

Monday:
“I’ll take factory chicken”
Kinderblogger, after I asked him if he wanted frozen nuggets or homemade chicken cutlets.

Tuesday:
“My force field has an erection!”
Explaining his superpower during horseplay.

Wednesday:
“I have a funny feeling when she’s here. It’s hard and I’m just so tired of her coming all the time and when can everything be normal again?”
On spending another day with our substitute babysitter while nannyblogger is back in Trinidad taking care of her brother who was hit by a car.

Thursday:
“It’s a hairy cockroach! It’s a hairy cockroach. A hairy cockroach!”
After a mouse ran towards me while I was in the bathroom indisposed.

Friday:

“I wish there was a machine that could always keep me company.”

Today, after spending spring break with a substitute babysitter and not as many playdates as usual.

Lately, Kinderblogger has been treating me with all of the love and kindness of 7th grader getting ready to break up with his girlfriend. He won’t look me in the eye, he won’t scoot to school with me, or kiss me goodnight. Something is obviously churning in that little mind of his but I hadn’t been able to lure it out of him until last night. We were lying on his bed reading C is for Construction and out-of-the-blue he offered this bit of insight into his psyche:

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“SLING SHOT MONKEY” “SLING SHOT MONKEY MONEY”. I sat in the auditorium trying to hide the concern in my face as 100 kindergarteners chanted SLINGSHOT MONKEY at the school’s annual Fall Catalog Sale kickoff assembly. Every year the company that runs our fall catalog sale throws a rollicking, slapstick assembly to get the kids all excited to sell, sell, sell. Brian, the catalog’s “entertainer/motivational speaker” who was well-meaning but had the charisma of a Best Buy sales guy explained to grades K through 2 that whoever sold 15 items would be rewarded with a slingshot monkey stuffed animal. All it took was for him to fling that thing across the auditorium and lust was in the air. They wanted that monkey and they were going to hit up their relatives and unload 15 rolls of wrapping paper to get it. (more…)