When I Grow Up...

Son #1 was watching a cute cartoon about cowboys.  He turned to my husband and said.  "When I grow up, I want to be a cowboy."

To this, my husband replied.  "You were born in Texas so you're already a cowboy.  All you need is a horse."

Son #1 thought this over carefully and then responded.  "When I grow up, I want to be a race car driver."

My husband queried.  "I thought you wanted to be a cowboy."

Son #1 quickly replied.  "I do!  And then when I get done with the horse thing, I want to race cars."

You can't go wrong when you know what you want to do.  Son #1, you be that cowboy/race car driver!

I'm Healed!

Son #1 got Cars 2 band aids at the local Walgreens yesterday.  He was so excited about the cute band aids and proudly showed me his minuscule scratch protected by his prize.  I oohed and ahhed an appropriate amount of time and then made my way to the kitchen to start cooking our dinner. 

Son #1 played happily in the living room until he bumped his finger on the coffee table.  He came to me cradling his finger and said.  "Mama, I need a band aid.  Look!  I cut myself."

I looked down and saw nothing but replied.  "Oh, that is terrible.  Hmmm.  Let me get you a band aid but first we'll have to cut it off."

Son #1 looked at me incredulously.  "Noooo."  He laughed nervously.  "You can't cut it off."

"But we will need to do surgery on it before the band aid goes on."  I said as I prepared the butter knife for the procedure.

Son #1 assessed his finger and the situation.  "I think I'm better now.  I don't need a band aid anymore."

"I'm glad to see that your finger is healed."  I smiled mischievously to myself.

It is amazing how the threat of surgery with a butter knife miraculously heals all minor wounds.

Baby Song

Son #2 had just finished a bottle and was casually laying back on his boppie.  I laid on the floor beside him and played with his little hands and feet.  We conversed in baby talk.  He smiled, cooed, and kicked his feet.  Then he broke out in to baby song. 

The song was a loud, non melodic growl that continued on at various pitches and decibels.  He cheerfully sang to his heart's content while gazing up at the ceiling and then at me.  I sat in wonder but did not move for the camera for fear that he would stop his serenade. 

Son #2 sang nonstop for ten minutes.  Then his eyes began to close ever so slightly.  Mid song he fell silent as his head drop to the side.  His song was done.  Now only snoring could be heard.

Standing in the Crib Part Deux

Son #2 is really getting the hang of pulling himself to a standing position in the crib.

Today, I got home from work and walked into a silent and peaceful house.  Son #1 played quietly on the living room floor.  My brother was relaxing and watching tv.  My husband was surfing the internet and Son #2 was taking a nap in his crib. 

Bliss.

I sat down on the floor of my husband's office and chatted with him about the day.  After a moment my husband picked up the guitar and played a soothing tune.  I perused the day's mail.  Time passed and then we heard a squeaky little voice coming from the baby monitor.  Was he awake already?

Son #1 confirmed it.  "Mama, the baby's awake."

My husband walked into the baby's room.  Lo and behold our baby had pulled himself up to a standing position on his own.  He stood with a cheshire cat grin and then promptly bit the railing with delight.

He is such a big boy.

The Box Bed

A few weeks ago, my husband bought some speakers that came in a very large box.  He unwrapped his booty with childish delight and then cast the box aside in the living room.  Son #1 rounded the corner and his eyes widened. 

"Mama, can I have that box?"  He asked in a voice filled with awe.

"Sure."  I replied breezily.

Son #1 sized up the large box and went to his room to gather some items.  He returned with an armful of supplies.  He was creating a box bed.  Carefully, he arranged blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals.  He also added the stray car and book.  Then, Son #1 dragged the box bed to the coffee table, climbed atop, and hopped inside.

"Mama, this is cool!"  He shrieked from inside the box.

I peeked inside and discovered my little boy snuggled inside the covers.  He smiled up at me with an innocent grin and announced.  "I'm going to sleep in here tonight."

"Huh."  I managed to say.  "Very interesting.  Don't you think you would rather sleep in bed?"

"No.  I want to sleep in my box bed."  He replied.

"Why?"  I asked incredulously.

"Because I like it."  He responded.  "Could you close the lid?"

My eyebrows shot up and I thought sarcastically.  "Jeepers Scooby.  Won't Dracula be mad if he sees you in his bed in the morning?"

I've Changed My Mind

My husband and I and our two small boys were making our way to the car after visiting with my doctor.  Son #1 had acted like a monkey during the visit and my husband was reviewing with him proper etiquette when at the doctor's office.  As Son #1 climbed into his car seat and began to buckle his seat belt, he turned his innocent face toward us and asked.  "Can we still go to McDonalds?"

I sighed and asked.  "Do you really think you deserve to go to McDonalds?"

He responded with a resounding "Yes!"

I posed the question.  "What if you were a dad and you had a son that had behaved badly at the doctor's office?  Do you think your son would deserve to go to McDonalds?"

Son #1 sat thoughtfully for a second and then replied.  "No."

I said.  "You're right.  He would not deserve to go.  I'm glad to know that you are going to make a good dad in the future.  Now, your dad is a good dad so do you think it would be right for him to take you to McDonalds after the way you have acted?"

He sat quietly again and then responded sadly.  "No."

I patted his back and said.  "You're right.  Now let's go home."

He leaned his head against the seat and said.  "I want to choose a different answer.  If I were a dad and had a son that acted bad, I WOULD take him to McDonalds."

At this, my husband and I died laughing.  Son #1, you're a very smart and funny little boy but I'm still not taking you to McDonalds when you act like a monkey!

Standing in the Crib

Son #2 is obsessed with standing.  Every possible chance he gets, he wants to stand up.  When he is not standing, he is fussing. 

On day, Son #2 was playing in his crib when he spied the railing.  He scooted over to the railing determined to pull himself up.  Slowly, he reached up with his left hand and grasped the wooden railing.  Then, he began to reach up with his right hand.  He grasped the railing but was stunned to discover that he did not have the strength to pull himself to a standing position.  Son #2 was undaunted and made repeated tries to pull himself up. 

In the kitchen, my husband heard little baby grunts coming from Son #2's room.  He meandered to the room and stood in the doorway.  There he saw our sweet baby pulling with all his might and becoming frustrated by his inability to stand up.  My husband took pity on him and walked to the crib.  When Son #2 saw his daddy, he let out a small whimper.  My husband sat our little baby up beside the railing and placed both of his chubby, little hands on top of it.  Son #2 grinned with delight and pulled himself up.  Standing in his crib, Son #2 stuck out his tongue and smiled like the Cheshire Cat.  Then he cooed and bit the railing as hard as he could.  I can almost imagine him saying.  "I've conquered my Mt. Everest and now I will leave my mark!"