The never-ending pukes

Smith and Lainey have been really sick this past week. I keep thinking they're getting better, especially when Smith asked for chocolate chip pancakes, French toast, and a hard boiled egg for breakfast this morning, but then he eats and he's sick all over again or falls asleep naked in his towel after taking a bath. Smith has a good friend who lives next door and they play nearly every day. Since Smith has been sick, I've been trying to keep Smith in and away from his buddy so that he doesn't catch it. Smitty does not understand this and begs and pleads all day long to go out and play, giving me thumbs up sign, meaning that his stomach has stopped churning. I tried to explain that if he gets his friend sick, then his friend won't be able to play either. And to that, Smith had this to say:

"Well, Mom, if I'm puking and Mason is puking, then we'll both be puking and we can both play together."

How do I explain that logic to Mason's Mom?

*ADDENDUM FROM DAD*

When I came home tonight, I asked Smith if he had puked today. Smith said, "No pukes Dad. Just puke-poops."

Ice Cream Social 08

Smith's best buddy Andrew Hoag.
The annual Peter Pan Preschool Ice Cream Social was last Saturday. The class did a short performance for the parents after the silent auction. Smitty was very proud of himself...and as if we didn't know all ready...loves to be on stage. He put on quite the show. So, without further ado...

Bouncey Balls?

Mom: "Smith, please, keep your hands off your private."

Smith: "But Mom, what are these ball-ee things?"

Mom: "Well, balls, I guess."

Smith: "Can I take them out and bounce them in the tub?"

I never thought I would have to talk about this...ewe! Gross!

Diet Coke

Smith: "Hey dad, can I have some of your drink?"
Dad: "No."
Smith: "What is it?"
Dad: "Coke."
Smith: "Is it Diet Coke?"
Dad: "Yes."
Smith: "You're not supposed to drink that."
Dad: "Says who?"
Smith: "Jesus."

Movie Night

Dad: "Hey Smith, if you finish your mushroom soup, I'll go get you something . . . something that rhymes with groovy."
Smith: "A smoothie?"
Dad: "No."
Smith: "A booby?"
Dad and Mom: "What?" [laughter ensues.]
Smith: "Yeah, yeah, let's go get a booby!"
Dad and Mom: [laughter stops.] "WHAT???"
Smith: "I love booby traps!"
Dad: "Oh . . . right. Booby traps are cool. But I was thinking of getting you a movie. . . ."

Jellyheart

Like many fathers and their children, Smith and I wrestle . . . all the time. Last night, as we wrestled, Smith was holding on to one of his beloved Hot Wheels cars. I rolled over him, and my body dug the car into his chest. He yelped in pain. Smith said the following:

"OUCH! Dad, you just broke off a piece of my heart! But that's okay . . . because tonight, my heart is a jellyfish, so the broken part of my heart grew back. I'm okay now. I'm ready to rock."

Speechless

Two recent incidents have left us speechless.

A few days ago, Smith and his good buddy Ethan went over to play with the five-year-old boy that lives next door. When they came back, Ethan was wearing Smith's underwear and Smith wasn't wearing anything below the belt. As of yet, I have not heard a satisfactory explanation (it had something to do with sprinklers, and Ethan refusing to put his underwear back on because they were Venom underwear, not Spiderman).

Then, over the weekend, the boy next door came over to play at our house. I walked upstairs and heard both of them in the bathroom making quite a lot of noise. I opened the bathroom door and saw them both, naked. Neighbor-boy was sitting on the toilet doing business of a secondary nature, and laughing. Smith was standing in the tub peeing on all the tub toys, simulating the explosion and machine gun sounds that only small boys can make.

As I write this, I'm reminded of the scene in the movie "Better Off Dead" when Lane Meyer's father opens the bathroom door and sees Lane with Q-tips sticking out of his nostrils and ears, and making walrus/alien sounds at himself in the mirror. Lane's father looks at Lane for a moment, closes the door and slowly walks away.

I feel you Mr. Meyer. I feel you.

Don't cross the streams!

As we were playing pass with a bouncy ball, I realized that Smitty desperately needed to use the bathroom. He was prancing instead of running. We quickly paused for a potty break.

"Mom, I'm going to use the guest bathroom. Come in with me. Let's do light sabers."
"Umm. Smith. I can't stand to go to the bathroom."
"Well, you have a private. Just use it. Come on! Dad and I do light sabers all the time."

Thanks Adam. Now I understand why I am constantly cleaning the toilets.

The "Itchers"

It was warm for about five minutes today so I took the kids out for a quick walk to the park. Smith grabbed his beloved Yankees hat and was out the door and on his scooter in seconds flat. Not even a block away from home, he stopped dead in his tracks and yanked off his hat.
"Hey Mom. Do you know what itchers are?"
"No."
"Oh. Itchers are the bugs that live in hats that make your head itch."
He scratched his head really hard for a second, told me he got them all, slapped the hat back on his head and off he went to the park.
As long as the 'itchers' aren't really lice, then he can keep the hat.

Pop goes the Smitty

Smith: "Dad, where did you pop out?"
Dad: "What?"
Smith: "When you were born, who did you pop out of?"
Dad: "Um . . . [clearing my throat], Oma."
Smith: "Where did mom pop out?"
Dad: "Poppy."
Smith: "I know where I popped out."
Dad: "Where?"
Smith: "Mommy's birth canal."

About a month ago, Smith asked me how a baby gets out of a mommy's tummy. I didn't want to tell him something untrue, but I wanted to keep it vague . . . so I told him that babies come out of the birth canal. Of course, he then wanted to know where a mommy's birth canal is. I tried to change the subject, but he wouldn't drop it, so I made something up. I told him that the birth canal attaches to the bellybutton when a baby is ready to be born. I'm an idiot, I know. We hadn't talked about it since.

Wondering where the dinosaurs went? Smith knows.

This weekend, mom went to NYC with friends, so Smith, Laine and I took advantage. Last night, we rented a movie that is not mommy-approved: Jurassic Park III. While at Blockbuster, Smith assured me, "Dad, I can handle it," and then every time a dinosaur bit into a human, Smith told me, "Dad, I am handling it!" Despite Smith's handling of it, I fast-forwarded a few parts. After the movie ended, Smith explained to me where the dinosaurs had gone. His analysis is not quite at his cousin Chase's level, however, here it is nonetheless:

Dad, dinosaurs aren't stink-ed. There are real dinosaurs in Dinotopia, and the others turned into animals. You know giraffes dad? Giraffes used to be long-necks. When they were long-necks, they lived in Jurassic Park. Now, they live in giraffic parks.

This actually sounds more like something my mother-in-law would say to me

Smith: "Dad, you are not bald; you have hair on the sides." Instructively, Smith demonstrates this phenomenon to me by gesticulating toward the appropriate areas on my head. "And, I think I even see some hairs on the top."

"Frustration" personified

The Setting: Mom, Laine and Smith are hurrying to the gate to fly home to Colorado after spring break (do pre-schoolers really need spring break? They need a break from play time?). They are just on time according to Whitley's schedule, which means they have about two minutes to get to the gate.

Mom: "Smith, what are you doing? We need to get to the gate!"

Smith: "Hey mom, guess what I am."

Mom: "What? What are you doing?"

Smith: "I'm pretending to be a rock!" (Smith bends down and grips his knees to his chest, and keeps completely still for the first time in recorded history. From his office in Colorado, Adam hears the faint sound of a familiar scream coming from the west.)

Just Disneyland

Our trip to Disneyland last week with Poppy and Uncle Gray, was a surprise for Smith.  This was precautionary because of the level of hyper-ness that would have consumed him the week prior to getting to Disneyland.  We didn't even let on until we were on the tram that took us from the parking lot to the entrance to the park.  Smith thought all along we were headed to the zoo, until the driver of the tram came on the loud speaker and said, "Welcome to Disneyland Park."

Totally shocked and a tad let down, Smith said, "This isn't the real Disneyland.  This is only Disneyland Park."

It wasn't until the very end of the night, 12 hours later, as we took a picture by the Mickey Mouse at the entrance, that Smith said, "That really was Disneyland, wasn't it?"

Our little Tom Sawyer

Mom: "Hey Smith, can you go pick up the Lincoln Logs and put them back in their tin, please?"

Smith (in the other room): "Hey Poppy. Could you carefully put these in there?"

Not so nice.

Poppy: "Smith, are you excited to see Poppy and Geeps?"

Smith: "I'm excited to see Graydon."

California Dreamin'

Mom: "You need to get ready for the beach Smitty."

Smith: "Wait. You mean Aunt Shanon lives by Disneyland and the beach?! Whoa. That is awesome. . . ."

Easter Egg Hunt

Smith's best buddy Ethan Stout

Smitty's Snowman

March in Colorado...still a bit chilly!

Heart to Heart Talks between Smith and Mom

#1
Smith: "Mom, I pray to the superheroes everyday. At breakfast, lunch, dinner and at bed."
Mom: "What about Heavenly Father, do you pray to him?"
Smith: "No . . . only superheros."

#2
When Smith told Mom that his girlfriend was going to marry another four-year-old, Mom told him that Ellie wouldn't marry anyone unless the boy got her dad's permission. Smith's reply: "If he says okay, then Ellie will marry me? Let's call him right now. What's his number?"

#3
"Mom, do you know that so many girls like me? Like all of them. Girls just stop and stare and smile at me. They do it all the time. They think I'm cute or something."

#4
Smith: "Mom, tell me a superhero story."
Mom: "Smith, I don't have one in my head right now.
Smith: "Then I'll put my brain in your head, and my brain will tell your brain a superhero story, and then you can tell it to me . . . okay?"

#5
[While practicing saying his scripture for primary sharing time]
"'. . . For my soul delighteth in the scriptures, and my heart pondereth them. . . .' But Mom, my heart isn't shaped like a brain. . . ."