Isn't He Lovely?

You never know who you might encounter at any given moment with these 2 boys of mine. Make believe and dress up are very popular pastimes. Occasionally, dogs, cats, and wild animals such as lions and monkeys have somehow made their way into our home. Jacob has an impressive lion's roar, and Alex's growl is a dead ringer for a bobcat.
We've also been known to run into Spiderman, Superman, cowboys,


soldiers, The Flash,


a Power Ranger, fencing experts,


professional skiers,


wrestlers,


golfers, rock climbers,


gymnasts,


and sprinters, as well as football, basketball,



baseball, hockey,


and soccer players (and when Jeff is around, professional dodge ball players).

The boys have also dabbled in the fields of carpentry & construction,





demolition,


firefighting,


police work, science


medicine,


and piracy (can you call piracy a "field"?).


Daily visitors to our home include artists,


musicians & dancers,





chefs,





taste testers,




and naturally, stuntmen.






This is just a sampling, but as you can see, these boys have dressed up and/or pretended to be just about everything.

Even princesses. And don't they look lovely?


Nani had a princess theme for her 81st birthday, so Aunt Tricia brought costumes to the party. When Jacob was asked whether he wanted to be a Power Ranger or a princess, there was no hesitation before he enthusiastically responded, "Princess!"

Well, obviously. He can be a Power Ranger any ol' time at our house. Why not try something different?

What's the opposite of a Spiderman costume with built in muscles? Why, a shimmery, ruffled, mermaid dress with a sweetheart neckline, of course.


But perhaps there would have been some reluctance if he had realized how difficult it is to walk in heels.


Alex wasn't a fan of the heels either.


So when he saw a pair of Lainey's practical flip flops, he opted for those instead.
Since he couldn't say, "High heels suck- especially plastic ones. Give me those flip flops", he went with, "Shooooe!"
We knew what he meant.


Yep- now you see why Mommy wears the shoes she does.

The new Spice Girls band was formed.


What have we here? A demure Ariel, a spunky princess, a flashy Aurora, and a confused Dora. I can almost hear Alex thinking, "Why am I wearing a tulle skirt with spaghetti straps? Mommy has officially lost it."


After about 20 minutes of parading around in drag, the dresses were shed, and the wrestling resumed.

It was fun (and pretty) while it lasted.

Dear Abby

Dear Abby:

Hi- my name is Alex. I'm writing to ask for advice about a woman. This particular woman is named Lauren, and from this point forward, will be known as "Mommy".

Here's my problem...I think Mommy is having a difficult time realizing how independent I've become. She's always wanting to help with things that frankly, I really don't need help with. I'll be TWO years old next month, for crying out loud.

I'll preface my grievance by admitting there are lots of things she allows me to do independently. And granted, there are also the occasional tasks I appreciate her assistance with. For instance, preparing meals, reaching the food that's up high (I've got a handle on the food in the lower cabinets, and pull it out quite frequently), and driving. If I'm being honest, I feel quite certain I could handle all of the aforementioned tasks on my own if she didn't have the height advantage.
And until I learn to use that white bowl that everyone else in the house does, I'm also glad she changes my diaper. For now, I'm content to let her handle all of these things. I'll put them on the back burner, and address them with her when I'm three.

Having said all of that, however, there are a few tasks I feel I do not need help with:

1) crossing the road or parking lot- I find that I simply cannot win on this one. She always pulls out the infamous multiple choice trickery: "Do you want to hold my hand or should I carry you?" Uh, where is option C? I can do it on my own!

2) brushing my teeth- I feel we've reached a minor compromise on this one. After my teeth are brushed by a "responsible adult", then I get a turn.

3) eating messy meals like spaghetti, soup, cereal, or yogurt- Darn it, on this one, I just can't get her to quit offering to help me. It's insulting, really. I've attached photographic evidence to support my claim.


Eating delicious apple yogurt on my own.


Ensuring that I've eaten every last drop so I'm not wasteful. A mature and responsible thing to do, I think.


All done!


And it was delicious...


OK, so I got a little bit on my fingers. But who doesn't when they eat yogurt?


I give you a very clear picture of...SUCCESS!



I feel I've made my point. Clearly I do not need any assistance. She even wanted to wipe me down with a wet paper towel afterwards. Do you see what I'm dealing with here?

I'm not sure how I can be any clearer. Right now, my main tactic is resistance paired with impatient, aggravated shrieking until I learn to yell, "I do it myself!"
Any advice you can give me would be most appreciated.

Sincerely,

A Mature Little Boy Who's Being Treated Like an Almost Two Year Old

Dream Wedding

Last night at bedtime, after we read our two books (which is sometimes three, depending on Jacob's persuasion tactics), Jacob & I were snuggling in his bed. Jacob wasn't quite ready to drift off yet, so we chatted for a few minutes. And I was able to learn my 4 year old boy's definition of a dream wedding.


Me: "Tomorrow, we're going to see Nan."

Jacob: "I can't see Nan."

Me: "Why not?"

Jacob: "Because my girlfriend said I can't."

Me: "Why did your girlfriend tell you that?"

Jacob: "Because we're goin' to a dance. And I goin' to marry her."

Me: "Really? I thought you were going to marry me."

J: "I can't marry you cuz Daddy already married you. So I can't give you rings."

Me: "So you're going to marry your girlfriend then?"

J: "Yea. At a museum. And there will be Star Wars music*. And everyone will see a rainbow. And Shrek and Donkey will be there. Not the real ones...just costumes."

Me: "Wow. That sounds like a really neat wedding."

J: "Thanks."

Me: "What's your girlfriend's name?"

J: (thinks for a moment) "I don't remember."

Me: "Is her name Lily?"

J: "No, dat was my old girlfriend."

Me: "Oh. Sorry. What color hair does your new girlfriend have?"

J: "Blue."

Me: "Another girlfriend with blue hair?! What color eyes does she have?"

J: "I don't know...I can't see them."

Me: "Why can't you see her eyes?"

J: "Because she's sleeping."

Me: "Okay. Maybe when she wakes up tomorrow you can see what color they are."

J: "Otay."

Me: "I can't believe you're already big enough to get married."

J: "I growin' so big!"

Me: "Yes, you are. Goodnight, buddy. I love you."

J: "Goodnight."


Who knew little boys daydreamed about weddings too?

*The Star Wars idea is credited to his Aunt Tricia & Uncle Scott, who actually did have that music playing as they entered their wedding reception. Aunt Tricia shared this with Jacob just a few days ago, and he has been starry eyed over that idea ever since. I think this nugget of information has made him love his aunt and uncle even more.

Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Sometimes I feel like Alex is unfairly judged before there is sufficient evidence to prove he's guilty. For example, when I leave him alone in a room, and moments later hear a suspicious noise, I often find myself automatically jumping to the conclusion that he's into something he shouldn't be.

Maybe it's because he's my little wild man.

Maybe it's because he's (almost) two years old.

Or maybe it's because of his track record...

Like when I've found him rummaging through the trash can, spilling coffee grounds all over the floor and himself,


chewing a discarded piece of gum,

or playing in chocolate pudding.


Or when he climbs up (and now jumps off) places he shouldn't.


Or when he smacks his brother just to enjoy Jacob's yelling.

Or the times he steals one of Mommy's decorative sticks to try and hit the chandelier. (A game which I totally blame Jacob for since he started it.)


And how about all of his food bandit escapades? Like when he steals my drink after I've gotten up to fetch him his own. Guess he couldn't wait.


Or the time he devised a way to reach the donuts I was so sure were out of his reach.


And the times he gets caught sneaking in the candy drawer.


Or the times when I'm not looking, and he takes off his clothes.

Especially when he pees on the floor after he's done, like he did this morning.

Or, worst of all, when he does this.

Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

So while I'll continue to check on him, I'm going to try not to assume I'm about to walk in on some mischievous behavior. I guess I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Because sometimes he's just reading.


Or watching TV.



Or playing cars.



Or deep in thought.


Or, like on Friday, engaged in a too-cute-and-not-at-all-staged (I swear!) act all by himself in the dining room.
After hearing what I was convinced would be our china cabinet's junk drawer being emptied out, I walked in to find that actually, only one item had been removed. And this is exactly how I found him when I walked in. I had to tiptoe away and quickly grab the camera.

He pulled this photo out of the drawer all by himself. Just so he could gaze at it.



And point to the people in it, while saying their names (Da, Ma, Tee, Maa, Nan, Pa, Ti- aka Daddy, Mommy, Kerri, Matt, Nan, Pop, and Chris).


And smile at it.


And kiss it.


My heart melted. Sure, he's wild. Sure, he gets into practically everything.

But what a sweetheart.

P.S. What picture is he looking at, you ask? Oh, a picture from a family beach vacation taken in 2004. Excuse me for a moment as I play Captain Obvious, and point out my horrendous sunburn. How creepy do I look with the red skin and light eyes? Yikes. I look like some kind of red monster, tightly gripping Jeff's arm in a not so stealthy attempt to take him as my prisoner.
"One picture, buddy...then you're coming with me."


And the picture above is edited. The original was so disturbing, I had to use Photoshop to make myself look a little less frightening. Below is pre-Photoshop. I give you- the original: