Magic Wishing Stone

So there is a new commercial for the movie "Shorts" which is a movie about 3 kids making wishes on a magic stone. Jonathon of course has seen this, so the other day at a restaurant he asks me the question "What if monsters were real?" to which I responded "then I guess that would make them real." Obviously I am getting a little exhausted with the 'what if' questions as I stated in an earlier post. So Jonathon says "if I had the magic wishing stone, I would wish the world was a dangerous place". I didn't quite understand where he was going with this so I said "why would you want that?" and he says "because then monsters would be real and I really like monsters." So I've finally convinced him that monsters aren't real, thinking that I was saving him from many sleepless nights worrying about them lurking in his closet, when he in fact would love to have monsters around. Also, he seems to be under the impression that although monsters are obviously not real, that he can magically make them be real with a wishing stone. Should I tell him there is also no such thing as a wishing stone or do I let him keep one fantastical thing to believe in?

Lazy or Genious?

William is a picky eater, he has been since day one. He hates anything with texture, it makes him gag and choke. I could keep him on baby food for the rest of his life or I could try to be more creative in adding some texture that is easy to swallow. His favorite meal at the moment is corn, baked beans and white rice all mixed together. Marc thought that I used this concoction out of sheer laziness but truly it is the perfect meal. I slap a glob of cottage cheese on the top and viola! he has a ready-made meal that takes about 2 minutes to assemble and covers almost every major food group. I think it's genious, now if only I could talk Jonathon into eating it...

Idle Conversation

I'm sure every mom has gotten to the point where they wish at least once that they could have some intellegent adult conversation. Well, now two weeks without any consistent adult chatter I am desperate. As an example of a typical 10 minutes in my household I will describe the short drive to pick up dinner tonight.

I glance back in my rearview mirror and see William with a piece of yarn that he has wrapped around his teeth and is now yanking with all his might until his arms begin to shake with the strain.

Me: 'William, stop pulling on that string!'
William: 'WHY?'
(Great now my one and a half year old has learned the dreaded word, they will now double team me) As I try to explain to him the dangers of ripping his teeth out, Jonathon begins to feel left out.

Jonathon: 'Mr. William! Mr. William!'
William: (now ignoring me, of course...I am of little significance next to his brother) 'What?'
Jonathon: 'Mr. William...I mean, Mr. Owl...How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?'
-Pause while William thinks about that one...
Jonathon: 'Mr Owl, did you just eat my Tootsie Pop?'
William: 'Yup'
Jonathon: 'Then spit it back out!'
(I swear that was not part of the commercial but maybe that is because the last time I saw that commercial was about 20 years ago, I can't believe they are still airing the same one...cheap bastards)

Jonathon and William are having a good laugh at their new joke but just seconds later Jonathon calls to me: 'Mommy! You need to take a picture of this'
Me: 'A picture of what?'
Jonathon: 'Spiderman has his booty on backwards!'
(I glance in my rearview mirror and sure enough his Spiderman action figure is looking at me straight on and also mooning me at the same time) Jonathon thinks this is hilarious and is in stitches for the rest of the ride to dinner. For those interested to know what the conversation was on the way home it was a 10 minute breakdown on why 'popcorn chicken' is called 'popcorn chicken'...Please somebody call me before I start giggling everytime I hear the word poopy or chicken underpants, my brain is degenerating quickly...

O-kay...

This evening the boys and I were watching a video of Marc reading a book to Jonathon (recorded before the last deployment). The book was "Alaska's ABC's" and Jonathon was enthralled by watching his daddy read to him when he was a baby. As Marc was reading on the video, I was flipping through the pages in the book so that the boys could see the pictures. William and Jason were more interested in the book than the video but Jonathon was sitting quietly in his chair with his eyes on the TV. As Marc got to the O words and said 'Otters swimming in the ocean', Jonathon blurts out OPTIMUS PRIME! So...my instincts as a mother are at odds, one stating that Jonathon is watching WAY too much television and one jumping up and down because he sounded out the beginning of a word. I finally take a breath and tell Jonathon that he did a GREAT job and that yes 'Optimus Prime' does start with an O. He was so excited and gave me a very proud smile then settled back down to watch the rest of the video while I plotted how I could unplug my addicted child. Any ideas? By the way, I don't think Jonathon has ever seen 'Transformers' so I have no idea where he got that from, I must assume it is from the new Burger King commercials...

From bad to worse

I felt like the luckiest person in the world when Jonathon turned 4 years old and was still beautifully oblivious to that horrible word...'WHY?' But just when I thought I had dodged that bullet my adorable little niece came to visit and taught him the wonders of the word (Thank you Avalon). Since then it has become a staple in his vocabulary, sometimes I think he says it even without realizing it as he seems confused when I respond. After one particular day that was saturated with the word, I finally had enough. I asked Jonathon 'WHY do you always ask why?' Thinking that I would stump him and that would be the end of his relentless why-attack. He looked me straight in the eye and said with as much exasperation as a 4-year old can muster, 'Because, Mom, that is how I find out about things.' Touche...I had no response and he went back to his questions, which I now answered as completely as I could.

With all this frustration I thought there could not be anything worse than a constant stream of 'whys' everyday. But alas, I was wrong. What is worse than 'why' you ask...'WHAT IF'. Gone are the days that I could just look up the answer to his why questions and now we are immersed in the make-believe. Instead of 'why is the sky blue' I get 'what if the sky were green'. Instead of 'why does my finger hurt?' I get 'what if my finger fell off?' Somebody please tell me how you answer that one...

Well...crap

Today was not a fun day. After finally coaxing William to take an early afternoon nap, I cozy up to a good book and relax until about 20 minutes later when I hear William yelling 'POOOPY!' from his room. Sure enough, I open the door to find that he has stripped off his diaper and taken a giant poop in the middle of the room. I would be more inclined to be understanding if not for the fact there is no poop in the diaper. This means that he felt the urge, took the diaper off, pooped in the middle of the room and THEN called me in. I think we are going to have to discuss the order in which these events should have occured.

So after throwing William in the bath, I proceed to clean his room. About half way through steam cleaning his carpet I realize I am running late for a briefing I have to attend. I rush through the rest of the job, throw clothes on the kids, run them down to the car and off we go to daycare. After signing each child into a separate room and briefing each teacher with their needs and dealing with William's meltdown I finally jet to the car to try to make it on time to my only scheduled activity for the entire week, a briefing required to move our stuff to the new house.

I realize I must be running a little late but I refuse to have gone through all this trouble for nothing so I suck up my pride and try to sneak into the briefing and hide at the back. When I finally think I might be able to take a breath and relax because I made it, the instructor glares at me and tells me I need to leave and reschedule. It is at this point that I glance at the clock and realize I am more than 20 minutes late. Oops. Of course rescheduling requires taking a number and sitting in the waiting room for an hour. Calling in and just setting a new date would be far too easy...So I pick up the kids after using all my daycare time and I am right back where I started.