The Bean Incident

Z is turning three and just started pre-school this week. It's been pretty stressful for me. Baby growing up. Baby not potty trained. Fear of said baby having a #2 accident at school and getting poop all over himself.

Also... fear of life after Nanny. You see, it's also our Nanny's last week on the job, now that both kids will be in school all day. But it turns out, Z has been doing great at using the school potty. Wahoo! In fact, our biggest excitement of the week had nothing to do things coming out of his body in inappropriate circumstances. In fact, we've had rather the opposite.

On Wednesday of this week, Z's teacher contacted me to let me know that Z had stuck a bean up his nose. They had removed it, but he said that there was another one. They couldn't see another one, but they couldn't be sure. So I called the pediatrician, who said it'd be best to bring him in, which I did. A quick check up the nose revealed... No bean. Well, that's a relief. 

Fast forward to Friday afternoon. Z has been stuffy since Wednesday. A remnant from the one bean removed on Wednesday? Possibly, I guess. Anyway, it's Friday afternoon and we're saying goodbye to our Nanny, when Z takes a sip of water which apparently went down the wrong pipe. He starts coughing, snot bubbling out of his nose, when suddenly our Nanny yells, "Bean!" Then she practically leaps over the counter between her and my son and snags a huge bean from his nostril before he inhales and sucks it back up his nose. 

Now, that is not quite how I expected Z's first week of pre-school to end, but man, THAT is how you spend the last 5 minutes on the job.

Flying V

The other day I was driving Flik home from school when he posed the following question:

Flik: Why, when geese fly, do they look like a check mark? 

Mommy: Well, we say that geese fly in a V. And the reason... 

Flik: Well, sometimes it looks like a V, but sometimes it looks like a check mark. (pause) And sometimes it looks like a W. (pause) You know, there are many different constellations of goose.

Unfamiliar Expressions

My little family went out for dinner tonight. On the way home, my husband was complaining about an obnoxious pimple.

Daddy: It just won't go away.

Flik: Why don't you pop it.

(Aside: Clearly we've got some stellar parenting going on here that my 5 year old is advising his dad on popping pimples. But anyway...)

Daddy: I did. But it's one of those pimples that just keeps coming back. It's like a cat; it's got nine lives.

Flik: Um, If you shoot a cat, it's dead.

So at least my kid has a firm understanding of cat mortality.

Man with a Plan

Yesterday as I pulled into the garage, Flik asked me, "Can we play pretend?"

"Sure," I responded.

And as he hopped out of his carseat, he continued with...

"And don't go in that door, go to the front door. But wait until I go inside first. And then go to the front door and ring the doorbell. And I'll come to the door and I'll open the door and I'll say, 'Who are you?' And you say your name. And I'll invite you in. And then you can come inside, but you have to pretend like I don't know you. Ok?"

It's probably only a matter of time before he starts handing out printed scripts.

Just Bragging

So sometimes a mom just wants to brag. And why else have a blog about my kids if not to brag about them. Today, I'll brag about Flik.

Today I took Flik mini-golfing. It was a beautiful day, school will soon be starting again, and I just wanted to spend some time alone with him. Apparently, everyone in the western suburbs of Chicago had the same idea, because the place was packed. But since that doesn't really matter much to a 5 1/2 year old, we decided to brave the crowds.

We got our balls and our clubs and took our place at the end of the line of people queued up at the first hole. There were about 5 groups of people in front of us when we arrived, so we had a bit of a wait. To pass the time, Flik decided to read aloud the large sign posted with the "Rules of Play."

1. No more than five players in any group.
2. All players tee off before stroking second putts.
3. Ball may be moved 6 inches from sides or obstacles without penalty.
4. If Ball leaves playing area, place at point of departure. Penalty - one stroke.
5. Stroke limit 6 per hole.

I gotta' tell you. I know my kid's reading abilities are good, but I often forget. He hates when I buy him new books that I expect him to read himself. He always wants me to read them to him. And he told me the other day that when he grows up, he wants a job that has "no reading in it!" And sometimes I wonder how much of his awesome reading is him remembering stories, just looking at the pictures to figure out what the hard words are, or just plain guessing at words he doesn't know based on context and getting them right. (These are also all useful skills, so props to him for doing those as well.) But today, he read every word on that sign without batting an eye. No pictures. No previous exposure.

Obstacles. Penalty. Departure.

Damn, he even impressed me. You go kid!

The Ants Visit California

We have been home from our California vacation for a week now. We spent three and a half days in Sonoma and three and a half in San Francisco. It was a wonderful vacation. If you haven't tired of my Instagrams, here are some more photos from our trip.

They Need a Real Baby

Flik is just staring to get the concept of "actors" playing "roles" in movies. This was prompted by the realization that Han Solo is also Indiana Jones. (Letting Flik watch Indiana Jones proved to be a little too much action/adventure for this Mommy, so now we're going to go on a puppy & kitten movie marathon for the next few weeks, but I digress.)

Anyway, we were in the car and Flik says, "So they needed a real baby for Harry Potter?"

Using my Super Mommy ability to deduce what that incomplete thought must mean, I realized he was asking about the baby in the movie.

Mommy: Yes, Dear. There was a real baby in the movie. 

Flik: So they had to make the baby sleep and stuff? 

Mommy: Well, no. When you need a baby to sleep in a movie, you pretty much wait until the baby goes to sleep on his own and then you shoot the baby sleeping.

... silence ...

Flik: You shoot the baby?

Yikes! Imagine now five minutes of Mommy backpedaling trying to explain how you shoot pictures and shoot movies and hoping I haven't scarred my child by having had him just envision people shooting baby Harry Potter to make the movie.

He seems fine. But if he ends up in therapy, I'm sure he'll just print out this blog post and bring it with him.