Shave and a Haircut

We like to look our best in the Kelly household. So, today was shave and a haircut day.





CK

Don't Tell Mommy

We were playing in the backyard this morning (not with the fancy swingset, with sticks and a $1 ball) when it happened. "I need to go potty Daddy." This is excellent, we haven't had any potty incidents in quite some time. The trouble with his announcement outside is that he never wants to go inside. For any reason.

Trying to get him inside often results in screaming, loss of bones, and tears. I can usually get him to come in for a potty break with the promise that we will immediately come back outside and I won't force him to do anything dastardly like wash his hands or face. Today was really difficult, after his announcement he wandered over to the bushes, chased the dog, and wanted to pick a 'pomato' in the garden. Convincing him to come inside and potty was not going to work. "Fine," I said, "let's pee in the backyard."

It was a huge hit with the participant. He couldn't stop loudly announcing to the trees and dog that he peed outside. It was so much fun, we did it again while we were outside playing in the afternoon. Same tree, just doing our part for the native vegetation during the heat wave.

The reason I've entitled this particular post 'Don't Tell Mommy' is that there are certain members of this household that don't believe in taking a leak in the comforts of nature. Especially when the indoor plumbing is a mere 3 or 4 hundred steps away. Toddlers don't take straight lines. This won't be an everyday occurrence Mommy, don't worry.

Of course, this evening, he did announce he had to go potty and started acting like he was just going to water the chair in the living room. We'll have to keep a close eye on that, else Mommy is going to be REALLY upset.

CK

Running List of Toddlerisms

The wife and I were chuckling about the latest crazy statements and we needed to start a list. This is that list. Likely to be expanded often, new items are in italics at the top.

Playing with the new bath letters that stick to the wall:
Owen: "These are Os."
Me: "Well, one is an O and the other is a zero."
Owen: "No, they're Os. And they're green."
Me: "Yes, they are green, but one is a zero."
Owen: "No Daddy, that's silly."
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Looking at his Mommy's belly button during bedtime: "Your penis is inside-out!"
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Owen knows we're going to get pizza and looks at the sign next to the pizza place: "K - U - M - O - N...PIZZA!
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At the store in Georgia on a Sunday, where beer and wine sales are not allowed
Me: "Oops, I forgot you can't buy wine on Sunday. *fake panic voice* OH NO!"
Owen: "Don't be sad."
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Owen, randomly at breakfast: "My birthday is coming over!"
Mommy: "Your birthday is coming over?"
Me: *laughing*
Owen: "It's bringing presents!"
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During quiet time, Owen decides to play with his snap together Thomas take and go track:
Owen: "It's broken, I need to fix it."
Me: "Okay, you go fix it."
Owen walks away and comes back 15 seconds later: "I need a screwdriver to fix it."
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Looking at his Halloween Candy Haul, Owen: "Can I have this one?"
Me: "No, we already had some candy."
Owen holding up a different piece: "How about this one?"
Me: "No, you've had enough candy."
Owen holding up yet another piece: "How about this one?"
Me: No, no more candy tonight."
Owen proceeded to hold up every single piece of candy and ask "How about this one?"
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Owen, looking at the garden: "What's this?"
Me: "That's called bok choy. It's for stir fry."
Owen: "No, it's salad. What's this?"
Me: "Raddichio, it's lettuce."
Owen: "No, it's salad. What's this?"
Me: "Mesculin. I mean it's salad like the rest."
Owen: "I don't like salad."
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Owen: "I have an idea guys!"
Mommy: "You have an idea? What's your idea?"
Owen: "I'm going to make you guys happy!"
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Me: "Do you want to read 'Sneetches' tonight?"
Owen: "No! That's too dangerous!"
Me: "What makes it dangerous?"
Owen: "I don't like that one."
Me: "That makes no sense, liking something doesn't make it dangerous."
Owen: "Motorcycles are dangerous."
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Owen had a cold and felt a little warm to his Mommy. Owen, after Mommy checked him with the rectal thermometer: "I'm feeling better!"
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Me jokingly to the wife: "Look here missy!"
Owen to his mommy: "Look here missy!"
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The wife sarcastically: "I feel sexy."
Owen enthusiastically: "I feel sexy TOO!"
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Me: "Dinner is imminent."
Owen: "Dinner is immi..imm...imma...immimmiimiiimmi....ALL DONE!"
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*Me with car keys between my teeth so I can buckle him into his car seat with 2 hands*
Owen: "Don't eat the keys Daddy! That's DANGEROUS!"
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Owen in a parking lot: "Mommy, no penis. Daddy, penis."
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Over Play-Doh:
Me: Now what animal should I make? A snake?
Owen: A snake! Yes!
Me: Okay, here you go.
Owen: It's happy.
Me: It's a happy snake? That's good.
Owen: It's happy snake. And happy monster.
Me: Okay, now what animal should I make?
Owen: Walrus.
Me: Let me guess, a happy walrus?
Owen: Nooooooo, a silly walrus.
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Owen at dinner: "Daddy's in the car."
Me: "I'm in the car? Where am I going?"
Owen: "Yes."
Me: "Okay. So I'm in the car going to yes. Is there anyone else in the car?"
Owen (excited): "A octumpus!"
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Me to Owen at the front door in my dress shoes: "Where are you going buddy?"
Owen: "Work!"
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Owen, randomly out loud referring to Thomas the Tank Engine: "Thomas has penis."
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Owen: "I pooped in my pants! Yay Owen!"
Me: "No, not 'Yay Owen.'"
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Owen to Mommy as she was trying to decide what to wear: "Mama needs pants!"
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Owen, hiding when you see him and he's not ready to be found: "NO! I'm HIIIIIIDING!"
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Owen, during lunch: "NO! Eat your soup with spoons you guys!"
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Owen: "I see a spider!"
Me: "Oh yeah, I see it too. It's called a wolf spider and it eats bugs."
Owen: "I LOVE it! I squash it!"
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Owen, guess where: "I make lots of stinkies. It splashed."
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Owen on the swingset at the park, with some construction equipment nearby: "Yay Owen and Daddy we swinging together looking at backhoe and going fast."
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After answering some questions honestly:
Owen: "Owen has a penis. Daddy has a penis. Mommy has a *garbled word that roughly rhymes with vagina*. Poor Mommy."
Mommy: "No, Mommy wants no part of having a penis."
Mommy to Daddy: "I didn't know 2 year olds were aware of penis envy."
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About to vacuum the house:
Owen: "We're going into the vacuum."
Me: "That's not safe, there's no air in a vacuum."
Owen: "There's no air in a vacuum."
Me: "Good, where's your Nobel for Science?"
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Me: "What do you have in your mouth?"
Owen, pulling something out of his mouth: "A rock."
Me: "Why are you eating a rock?"
Owen: "You want one for your mouth?"
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After falling halfway down the stairs because he was goofing off, right after the crying has stopped and my wife's heart started beating again:
Owen: "I fell down."
Mommy: "Yes, it was terrible."
Owen (starting to smile): "I rolled down backwards."
Mommy: "I know."
Owen: "It was fun. I do it again?"
Mommy: "No, never again."
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Right after picking weeds in the yard on the way to the car:
Owen: "Owen and Daddy like weed."
Me: "No, that would be illegal and Mommy would be mad."
Owen: "Mommy doesn't like weed."
Me: "Right, now climb in the car and let's go."
Owen: "Owen and Daddy GOOOO! With weed."
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Me: "Owen, show your Mommy the tomatoes you just picked."
Owen: "Mmph, mmmm, phmph." *mouth full of the cherry tomatoes he just picked*
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We were outside and away from home on a cold day and he needed help going potty:
Me: "Sorry my hands are so cold buddy."
Owen: "ME TOO!"
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Owen: "I want coffee."
Me: "No, coffee is for Daddy to drink."
Owen: "Beer is for Daddy TOO!"
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Me: "Owen, are you licking that tree?"
Me: "Owen, stop licking that tree."
Me: "Owen, would you please stop licking the tree?"
Me: "Owen! Stop. Licking. The. Tree."
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Hide and Seek

We've gone through quite a few favorite games since Owen turned into a toddler and now a young man. Peek-a-boo, where's Owen, and the game of just run screaming as loud as you can through wherever you are. He's really gotten into hide and seek lately. Not quite sure how the rules are supposed to work, but he grasps the overall concept, and if you can fall over giggling at the end, what the hey?

Obviously, you have to have a hider and a finder. Usually, Owen is the finder and one or both of us is the hider. He closes his eyes tight and puts his hands up to his face, counting to 5. Upon counting to 5, the fifth number being reached, he announces "Ready or not, here I come," as every good finder should. Inside the house, we hide behind the bathroom door, a floor length curtain, behind the couch, or in the alcove by the pantry. Occasionally, you can slip into the office or on to the basement steps. He wanders around the house looking for you, but he really just wants to be surprised. Therefore, the best hiding spots are the ones where you can be passed over, then jump out and yell "BOOOOOO!" right behind him. He'll jump, pee a little, and be reduced to fits of laughter as he tackles you.

If you find a REALLY good hiding spot, he'll give up and go play with his toys so you have to be somewhat selective. We were playing in the backyard once and he counted. Daddy hid behind one of the many large poplar trees back there and Owen never came looking for me in that area. He spent a good 2 minutes looking for me in the wrong places as I peeked out from behind the tree. He finally gave up, and spent another 5 minutes wandering around in the backyard, picking up sticks, looking at bugs, and other random toddler activities. Finally, I decided to sneak up on him and waited for his back to be turned. I crept up behind him and got to about 10 feet away when he happened to turn around so I rushed him and threw him skyward while making some sort of monster noise I came up with.

It scared the crap out of him, he'd obviously completely forgotten I was out there with him. But it took about 1.3 seconds to register it was his Daddy and I don't think he could breathe he was laughing so hard. After settling down, he said, "You hide again!"

On the rare occasion when he wants to be the hider, this is where we have failures in the hide and seek dynamic. His idea of hiding is getting in a corner, or putting his hands on the fridge, in plain sight. When you get to 5 and announce ready or not, you can't find him until he's ready to be found. Walk right past him, loudly wondering where he is. If you see him, he'll scream, "NO! I'm HIIIIIIIIDING!!!!!" When he's ready to be found, he will come running out at you yelling, "BOOOO!!!!!" so you have to act properly scared and often get tackled. Maybe Daddy has too much fun with hide and seek by teaching the scare/tackle version.

He's finally starting to grasp better hiding technique and is usually found peeking out from behind a tree, a curtain, or behind the couch. One of these days, I'll have to get him to hide really well. Then I can give up and maybe have some peace and quiet. Except I'd probably forget and he'd scare me to the point of peeing myself and giggling.

CK

The Mall Playground

We just returned from an hour or so at the little playground in the local mall. It's just too hot to go out after we almost melted this morning, so some A/C in a contained area where Owen could get some energy out was perfect. This particular playground is really more of a small play area packed with at least 2 dozen kids. No traditional playground equipment, just a bunch of hard foam animals in various poses for kids to climb on, slide down, jump from, and fall off. Foamed carpeting keeps the falls from hurting too much. Our lil' man always has a blast going crazy in there and there's enough white noise and other stuff going on that the baby is happy too.

My biggest complaint though is that the play area is really for kids about 6 and younger. Bigger kids are always running around on it, and even that's not a big deal MOST of the time. It's the one kid who is entirely too old (like 12) and has no awareness of his surroundings. Last time we were at the playground, this particular kid was about 10 or 11 or so, and was constantly doing dumb stuff like waiting for little kids to run by him and jump over their heads or trying to make ever farther jumps from the cat's head to the sombrero. When he slipped and fell during one landing, he whacked his head on a polar bear ass. He wasn't hurt, so I was free to laugh by pointing and doing the Nelson "Ha-ha!" Sure, if he broke an arm or split his head open, I'd be over there trying to help out with First Aid. But it is somewhat satisfying to see a thumping.

Today was an entirely different experience. There was a boy, maybe 7 or 8, with his mom following him around to pose him on the different animals for, I guess, "glamour shots". She was shooing other kids out of photos, having him put on designer sunglasses, and flash what appeared to be gang signs.

This was a little strange, considering there were probably 30 kids in a relatively small area, but the choice of outfits was what took it to another level of high comedy. The kid was in a stained t-shirt (like every kid on the planet) and athletic shorts. No underwear. We ALL know this because his athletic shorts was lacking in the ability to cover his hot cross buns more than halfway. It's one thing for a pair of shorts to fall down a bit while playing, but when mom is having you sit on a skunk for 3 minutes doing various poses while your vertical smile is saying hello...

Maybe I'm officially an old man shaking my fist in the yard and yelling, "Pull up your pants!" As you can tell from my last blog, I will never understand why the Lady Gaga's, Justin Bieber's, and whatever teeny-bop group comes next have success, but I'm really hoping the 8 year old public display of assfection will never be hip.

CK

I Don't Like That Music

As Owen has become more verbose, his likes and dislikes are becoming less obvious. By less obvious, I mean he used to give us an emphatic foot stomp and "NOOOOO!" for things he didn't like. Stuff he likes gets an emphatic foot stomp and "NOOOOO!" when you take the item away or stop the fun activity. Now, he'll actually just tell us if he doesn't like something most of the time.

This is definitely the case with music. As soon as we get in the car, he wants the music turned up and either listens along happily or announces "I don't like that music." His taste is pretty limited so far, BIG fan of Veggie Tales songs and James Brown's "I Got You (I Feel Good)." Everything else is "I don't like that music," stated over and over again until you skip to the next song for another "I don't like that music," or you ignore him. He even hates "Real Gone" by Sheryl Crow, the song they used for the opening credits of the movie Cars. If you were not aware, Cars is the greatest movie in the history of movies to all who are 3 feet tall and male.

I kind of ignored all this, until I started playing my 80s playlist off iTunes one afternoon. Fantastic stuff, some A-Ha, Duran Duran, Men at Work, Rick Springfield. And of course, Europe's "The Final Countdown." If you made a request that "The Final Countdown" be played at your funeral, I will rock out to it with air guitar. Don't blame me, you requested the song, you would have wanted it that way. But Owen hates the '80s. He wanted them off the speakers as soon as possible and almost threw a tantrum over it.

So I tried the Beatles. Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, The White Album, A Hard Day's Night (just in case he prefers the early sober Beatles over the...medicated ones). No, no, no, and no. Ugh, this is not my kid.

Maybe he's got some weird musical tastes so I decided to bust out some of my different loves. A little Irish/Celtic music because who doesn't like a happy jig or a drinking song with innuendo? Apparently Owen AND his mother don't like jigs and/or bawdy drinking songs. Some Classic Rock, like the Stones, Zeppelin, ZZ Top. "I don't like that music." He doesn't like the Oldies, Classical, Jazz, Funk, or Crooners. I know he's not some Emo kid, so Alternative stuff like R.E.M. and Dave Matthews is right out.

If you're thinking The Wiggles, a Rebecca Black, or a Justin Bieber type since he is, technically, a kid, stop it. Just stop it. I consider it bad parenting at best and child abuse at worst to let Bieber into my home and I will cut him out of the will if he ever pushes play on an autotuned song.

For now, I think I'm stuck listening to Veggie Tales and James Brown on a loop. The really cool thing about hearing "I Feel Good" all the time is that he's started to sing along with it. But not the whole song, only one section with the horn licks, "SO GOOD! Buh buh buh bum, BUUUUUUUMMMMMMM!!!!!!!" It's pretty entertaining to listen to him sing along with the Godfather of Soul and I kind of think he's got the creative genius of an Andy Kaufman by just picking one part of the song to sing. We'll have to work on some of JB's other hits, like "Get Up Offa That Thing," "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag," and "Sex Machine." His Mom's going to love that last one.

CK

Don't Know What to Call This One

Owen and the wife are both slowed down a bit by colds this week. Owen seems to be over his, but the wife is in the depths at the moment. I was rocking Lily in our room and she brought little man upstairs for bedtime this evening. The wife sat down on the bed and looked at me with puffy red eyes, a little snot running down her face, and sarcastically wheezed, "I feel sexy."

Except she said it a little too loudly, so Owen cried out with glee, "I feel sexy TOO!" I don't why I'M in trouble now since I didn't say it, but apparently my laughing uncontrollably reinforces bad behavior and/or language we want him to avoid. It's one of those moments that I will definitely recall forever and probably recount decades from now.

I was reminded how fast this time of their lives will go and suddenly, I'm looking at a teenager, high school grad, and beyond. This morning a lot of email traffic started flying about a young man I knew vaguely through my weekend hobby. He took his own life and it's been with me all day. I only met him once and didn't know him very well. I don't know his parents but my heart goes out to them. I can't imagine what they're going through and never, never want to. Like the old quote says, 'Parents should never have to bury their children.' I hope that his parents can eventually find peace.

Since becoming parents 2 and a half years ago, both the wife and I have awoken on many mornings to explain the vivid dreams of one or both our kids falling down stairs, getting lost, etc. Thankfully, the one time Owen did fall down the stairs, he emerged with only a small bruise. Two yellow jacket stings that barely fazed him last week, sprained ankle that isn't slowing him down this week, and two eternally scraped up knees. I just hope that's the worst stuff they ever have to deal with.

Sure, becoming a SAHD has put a strain on the family through finances and being in close proximity all the time but I'm so glad to be with them everyday. The late night screaming fests, the stomping of the foot and attitude laced "NO!", and blatant ignoring of my voice when he's playing with the electrical outlet. We recall Owen being a tougher baby to handle than Lily so far, but I remember those first smiles, the chuckles he made way more than the late nights.

Lily has started smiling, but she's a very serious baby. I often will get one small smile a day, if I'm lucky. She just started laughing in the last couple of days and I will put up with any amount of screaming to get the half second smile or giggle. There will be times that I'll want to Homer Simpson choke the boy or take away Lily's...uhm...pony? But I will not stop loving the hell out of them no matter what.

CK