There's a WHAT in the yard?

Our morning routine is pretty predicable. I get up, I shower, I wake Noah, we go downstairs, I make breakfast, he eats breakfast and watches a cartoon while I eat breakfast and check my email before leaving, and take care of a little bit of home business, including cleaning up the kitchen. Occasionally, Noah wakes up early and blows the plan slightly -- this was one of those mornings. So he prods me awake by dragging his Coca-Cola polarbear clock into the bed with me to tell me "the hand is on the 4, so it's time to wake up." The FOUR? Oops, forgot to move the clock forward, and yes, it is in fact between 5 and 6 -- but "time to wake up?"

I cajole him into watching BETWEEN THE LIONS for 20 minutes while I get a little more sleep -- after all, the adrenaline rush I experience after fencing on Thursday nights normally means that I don't get to sleep until unnaturally late; being awakened before 6 is just cruel. He acquiesces. I snooze. BETWEEN THE LIONS is over, it's 6:20. I'm up. We go downstairs. I make breakfast.

Now I have to do the "leave child alone downstairs while I go up and shower" fandango, which is a little stressful. Noah hasn't ever been an escape-from-the-house-unsupervised artist, but that doesn't mean he won't TRY it one morning. I set up WALKING WITH DINOSAURS for him to watch; he likes the disc where the man goes back in time and is chased by dinosaurs, in particular the episode where he goes down in a diving cage and is attacked by a protoshark. I sneak upstairs to get cleaned up and ready for work.

A few minutes later, I'm just about to get into the shower, and I hear not just noise, but actual crying screaming downstairs. I throw clothes back on and dash madly downstairs. "I have to show you something!" he wails, and drags me by the arm urgently to the window. "There's a DINOSAUR in the front yard!"

I look out the window. Now, perhaps I failed to mention that after fencing last night, I arrived home to the big fuscia notice at the entrance to our pipestem that "they" would be repaving the road starting at 7am, and so ended up parking 4 blocks away on the main road, schlepping my equipment, bag with clothes, briefcase, take-out dinner, and purse back to the house at 9:30, muttering about what a pain in the butt this was going to be. Now it's 7:10. An lo, here are the guys with the big machines, tearing up the road. And I had not considered it until I saw it with my son's eyes, but one of the pieces of equipment looks shockingly like a brontosaurus. Another looks amazingly like a tyranosaurus rex. It's true. And when you're four, and you've never seen this before, and it's right in front of your house, well, I guess it's pretty darned shocking. Because unlike the ones at the museum, these are MOVING AROUND. DOING THINGS. TO OUR ROAD. LIKE TEARING IT UP. DINOSAURS! ARE EATING! OUR ROAD!

Eventually I got him to calm down. Can't wait to hear what he tells his class today at school! "Really? Dinosaurs ATE YOUR ROAD?"

I love seeing the world through his eyes.

The perfect gift for a 4-year-old boy....

I saw myself type this to a girlfriend asking for suggestions for her 3-year-old son's birthday, and thought it deserved to be saved for posterity:

The highlight of our trip to the Natural History museum a couple of weeks ago was seeing fossilized dinosaur poo. He was beside himself. So if anyone asks what I think they should give Noah, I tell them "a coprolite." They just stare at me like I'm nuts. "You want me to give your kid dino dung?" Yeah, really, I do.

Mommy Superpowers!

I just tripped over the Mommy Superpowers test.

I have the power of Unstoppable Creativity:

Fun, inventive moms like you know that life is what you make it — and you make it as colorful as you can. Whether you're sewing your kids' one-of-a-kind Halloween costumes, helping them write school book reports, or planning an off-beat weekend outing for the family, you are always full of big ideas and a bright energy that keep your brood smiling broadly.



Your unique approach to the world around you probably carries into other aspects of your mothering as well, and you're likely known for coming up with great solutions to your kids' problems. You're definitely not like the other moms — and your kids may sometimes wish you didn't stand out so much — but really, they like the adventure that comes with living with such a creative force, and the way you always encourage them to be themselves.

I'm pretty happy with that superpower. Though I wouldn't mind the ability to be in two places at one time.

You want me to draw WHAT?

My son is dinosaur-happy. I'm pretty sure it's not my brother's fault, because he hasn't spent nearly enough time with his nephew for me to be able to blame him for this obsession. Perhaps it's genetic. Maybe we are a family of dinosaur-obsessives.

Last night, we were on the driveway playing with the chalk, and he asked me to draw dinosaurs. "Draw me a stegasaurus!" I did. "Draw me a triceratops!" I did. "Draw me a pachycephalosaurus!"

There was a long pause.

Me: "Honey, a what?"

Him: "A pachycephalosaurus!"

Me: "Hang on."

I went inside, grabbed the phone, and called my paleontologist brother. He was not available. I left a message. "Just calling to make sure I"m drawing the right thing. Pachycephalosaurus -- that's the one that looks like it's part Benadictine monk, part Jean Luc Picard, right?"

I went back outside. He started trying to explain. "You know, it walks up right, and has a round head with a ridge around it, and it goes BANG BANG BANG with its head..." (he's running into my thigh with the top of his head to demonstrate) "...and it can RUN..." and he runs off.

Whew! Dodged that bullet. But not for long. Back inside, he informs me that he IS a pachycephalosaurus. I found a book about the physiology of prehistoric animals, no kidding, that I read when I was on a business trip in Utah, years ago. One page of line drawings of dinosaurs. Yep, I was right -- it looks like Jean Luc. Noah pronounces this "his favorite page" of the book, and carries the book off.

I wish I had this much gusto, when I take on a subject. When he gets excited about something, I swear, he just rolls in it.

The difference between boys and girls....

...was demonstrated to me twice this morning. Maybe three. It was pervasive.

First:

I hear my son coming up the hall, and as he does each morning, he trips lightly into the bathroom off my bedroom, and I hear the toilet seat go up. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" he exhales in relief as he pees. His visceral satisfaction with the first pee of the morning is impressive.

Second:

He crawls into bed with me. "Mommy! Good morning! I want you to come downstairs and make me pancakes with chocolate chips in them. But first, I want to give you a hug." He hugs me tightly and makes happy hugging noises. And then turns, and points his rear bits toward me. "Honey, what are you doing?" I ask. "Now," he says, "I am going to fart on you." We have a discussion of how Mommy does not play the fart game. "But Daddy and I do," he informs me seriously. "Yet Mommy does not play. Understood?" He nods sadly.

Third:

I then get up and go into the bathroom. "I want to come with you," he says, and joins me as I pee. Oh joy -- I wonder when I'll ever have privacy in the bathroom again. "I do that when I go poopy," he tells me. "Yes, dear, but I sit down to pee, too" I explain. In an unexpected Brittish accent, he trips, "Yes, because I have a PENIS, and you only have a BUTTOCKS!" His sing-song ends, and he marches out of the bathroom, and waits impatiently for me at the stairs. A moment later, a voice shouts back: "If you don't come down right now, I'm going to have to spank you!"

God, I love having a son.

And now, a quiz about your child's learning style!!

What is your Child's Learning Talent?

by Montessorimom.com: Educational Resource

My son's results:

Your child has exceptional linguistic ability. Your child could be the next president. Also, your child may be the next Dale Carnegie, Dr. Suess, or JK Rowland.

Your child can hear things and remember them easily. They are often advanced readers and learn to talk quickly. They enjoy telling stories. They learn other languages easily. They can generalize how their language is put together in written and spoken form readily.

I'm an artsy mother hen!

I get Montessori Mom's mailings, and tripped over a quix to find out what kind of Montessori "Mother Hen" I am. I'm an "Artsy" mother hen!


What type of Mother Hen Are You?
by Montessorimom.com: Educational Resource