"I Too Scared!"

Nolan came up to me this morning and declared, "I too scared!"

This doesn't usually trigger any alarm bells, since this is a frequent statement from Nolan. To wit, the following things precipitate Nolan's panic attacks:

• Balloons in the car
• Plants
• Babies
• Flowers
• Birds

Don't even get me started on the evil army of Easter Lilies at the Home Depot. The child is terrified of them. He's convinced the babies at the library story hour are crawling after him to "get his shoes." He has a rather good imagination for a two year old, so we don't pay a lot of attention when he declares, "I too scared!"

He was persistent this morning, however, and continued to cry, "I too scared!" I picked him up and then he elucidated:

"I too scared THAT SPIDER!"

I looked, and then I saw it.

Normally, I am very generous to wayward wildlife that enters my house. Ladybugs are gently helped outside, and frogs are gently scooped up and deposited into the woods. When I see spiders, however, my thoughts are more along the lines of: "Kill them. Kill them with fire!"

This spider was a monster. Before running for the vacuum cleaner to suck the creature into oblivion, I decided to take a picture of the beast. I included an object for scale- considering the spider comes up to the man's knees, I am estimating it was 2 feet tall.

*Shudder*

I plugged in the vacuum cleaner, inserted the hose extension, and dispatched the creature from across the room. The spider made a hideous "thwack, thwack, thwack" noise as it was sucked up the metal tube.

Then, just to be sure, I left the vacuum cleaner running for a full 10 minutes, just in case the spider decided to claw its way back into the family room to seek revenge. The bag on the vacuum cleaner needs to be emptied, but I am waiting until Dennis gets home to do it. That way I can retreat a safe distance away in case the arachnid decides to resurrect itself from its dusty grave.

If you don't hear from us soon, you can assume we have all been devoured by a giant spider.

Biology Lessons From a Four Year Old

On cows:

Cows eat grass. Then they smoosh it up inside and it squishes into milk.

On "mouses":

I know all about mouses. Cats eat mouses and then they go poop.

On human anatomy:

I need calcium for bones. Without bones I would just be a wiggle.

And, finally, a conversation on reproduction:

"Mom, how do mommies have babies?"

I told the lad that mommies and daddies love each other and make a baby.

"Yes, but how does the baby get in the mommy's tummy?"

I simply reiterated that the mommy and daddy make the baby, and then it grows in the mother's tummy. He's four, that's about all the information he needs (and can understand). Unfortunately, this is Matthew, and not your typical four year old. He needs details.

"Yes, but HOW? How does it get IN there?"

For heaven's sake. I'm driving down the road, and am trying to think of a nonspecific way of telling him the least amount of information possible. I tried to tell him that the baby is teeny-tiny (almost invisible) to start off with, and then begins to grow inside the mommy.

"Yeah, I know it's little. But how does it get IN there? It's not like it just appears!"

This is from the same kid who told me that you can't blow out street lights because they are run with electricity and have a glass cover. He doesn't take to fantasy (or redirection) well. It is raining, and I just want him to stop asking questions. I tell him the daddy gives the mommy a special seed, and that seed grows a baby in the mommy's tummy.

Oh, I am stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now Matt wants to see the special seed, and he wants to know how a seed can make a baby. Out of ideas (and completely unprepared for this conversation), I shout:

"Look- a flying giraffe!"

Then I turned the radio up so I couldn't hear his comments about giraffes not having wings.

The topic was dropped for a few days, and I thought I was in the clear. Until he saw a rather large family walk by and shouted (at maximum preschooler volume):

"WOW. Their daddy had a LOT of special seeds!"

Goooaaaallllll!

Why My Projects Rarely Get Finished

While I was trying to paint these nightstands,

Nolan was supposed to be "painting" his own things with water.

After a few minutes, I noticed that he had left his water-painting spot. I ran inside to find the little guy, and found my little St. Patrick's Day carrot cakes mysteriously marred with little fingerprints.

It didn't take long to find the culprit, since he left a cupcake trail in his wake.

We used to have 20 mini-cupcakes in a tin. Nolan managed to eat the frosting off of 17 of them in the 5 minutes before I found him.

I obviously need to learn to hide the cupcakes in a more secure location before attempting the next home improvement project!

First Flowers

The crocus are blooming, the sun is shining, and the bees are buzzing. Well, maybe it was only one bee, but that is good enough for me! Spring is here!





It is very hard to believe that the temperature is going to dip to 34 degrees on Monday, with a new round of snow. I'm in denial that winter will have its last blast- for now, we are reveling in the sunny warmth of spring!

St. Patrick's Day, 2010

Matt found the leprechaun's gold

This St. Patrick's Day arrived with a brilliant sun, gentle breeze, and 50 degree weather. Honestly, this weather is unusually warm for March... but we're not complaining! Time for a little St. Patrick's Day soccer on the front lawn, celebrating the lack of snow and the green lawn!

Spring: Coming Soon

When I lived in California, I never thought I would consider 38 degrees as "warm." Still, the snow is gone, the Canada Geese are returning, and the boys are mucking around the yard in their rain boots. Spring is in the air, and the boys are happy to have their swingset available for play once more!

Stealthy

Matt is my active child. He's loud, he's honest, and you know exactly what he's up to (even if he's up to no good).

Nolan, on the other hand, is stealthy. The boy can slip away and decimate an entire room without making a sound. He can empty a container of lotion and refill it with bubble solution in less than five minutes, and return to his regular activities by the time I return from the laundry room. The boy has a gift.

Unfortunately, the boy also has a sweet tooth. He can spot a container of sugar from a mile away, and will begin working on his tactical plan to obtain that sugar in silence. Every day, for the past week, I have found the boy doing this:




No matter how well guarded I think the kitchen is, he manages to find the exact five minutes I happen to be occupied to sneak into the kitchen. No matter where I hide the sugar container, he manages to find it. And the lure of the sugar is far greater than any disciplinary measures I've been able to devise.

I have now hidden the sugar in the refrigerator, behind the broccoli. I'm sure I'll forget where I've hidden it by tomorrow morning, when I need it for my coffee.

If you ever meet someone who stores sugar with the broccoli, they might be going insane. Then again, they might have a very stealthy two year old with a stubborn streak. Same difference.

Banana Vampire

I was tidying up in the kitchen, and picked up a bunch of bananas to place them in the fruit bowl. I noticed one was curiously light, though it appeared to be normal from the outside.

Upon closer inspection, the banana had a small strip of skin missing, and the fruit inside was gone.

Fruit everywhere, be afraid. Be very afraid. He strikes when you are least expecting it, and leaves little evidence behind. He is Nolan: The Banana Vampire.

Late Winter Snow

Matt is celebrating a clear driveway, so he can ride his bike again. It has been a long, snowy winter for a boy who dearly loves his bike!



It is so nice to get the kids out in the sunshine, which is much stronger in March than it is in February. Nolan, unfortunately, was having a Very Bad Day and spent much of our outdoor play time in this kind of mood:


Our days of snow forts and snowmen has come to an end. Bring on the puddles, mud-pies, and Daffodils!

Your Mama Dresses You Funny

Yesterday morning, I placed a set of clothes carefully on the chair downstairs, and gave Matthew instructions to get dressed. I silently rejoiced in the fact that he can dress himself, which saves me a lot of time and hassle. I left the room to dress Nolan, and came back downstairs to find this:

Matthew, wearing his brother's pants, and a shirt out of the dirty clothes pile. The clothes I had set out for him were neatly folded on the chair. I am impressed that he managed to get a size 18 months pants on- that must have taken some skill for a boy who wears a size 4!

Apparently, next time I need to be more specific. As in, "get dressed, in these clothes, which are clean and the right size."