the pieces of my life

Me: So what’s today?
Doodles: Thursday?
Me: No, is there something special about today.
D: It’s my birthday?
Me: Is it?
D: Yes.
Me: How old are you, three?
D: No. Five.
Me: That’s pretty old.
D: What?
Me: How did you get to be five?
D: I got all through four.
Me: What’s different about five than four.
D: I can do different things.
Me: Like what?
D: I can do almost anything I want to.
Me: Can you cross the street by yourself?
D: Only our street.
Me: Can you drive a car?
D: No.
Me: Can you get a job?
D: No.
Me: So what can you do?
D: I already told you.
Me: What.
D: I can do almost anything I want to do! I can go to Starbucks whenever I want to. I can ride my bike whenever I want to.
Me: Anything else you can do?
D: I cannot drive a car. I can play sports.
Me: You’re so big now. Where did you come from?
D: Mommy’s belly.
Me: What’s your favorite thing to do these days.
D: I like to go ride my bike. I like swimming, hockey, and Legos.
Me: If you were a dinosaur, what kind of dinosaur would you be?
D: T Rex. Because he’s my favorite dinosaur.
Me: As a big five year old, is there anything else you’d like to tell my readers?
D: I like reading a little bit.
Me: And grand pronouncements for the world?
D: What?
Me: Big statements?
D: The world is starting to get new people.
Me: Is that it?
D: Yeah.
Me: Happy Birthday, Doodles.
D: Thanks for saying this interview!

We were invited to Ball Night at the kids former daycare. It’s a fun night with food and lots of games. Unfortunately Doodles was sick. But the day started out looking like we could go, so we were chatting about it.

Me: We’re going to ball night.
Doodles: Yeah! I love ball night!
Pie: Cinderella went to a ball.
Me: Yes.
Pie: It’s like that?
Me: No, not quite like that.
Doodles: It’s games.
Pie: Oh. I like games, too.

About a half hour till we were to leave, Doodles spiked a fever. I plopped them in front of the TV and went to make dinner.

Me: What do you want for dinner?
Pie: Hot dogs at ball night!
Me: Sweetie, remember, we’re not going. Doodles’s sick.
Pie: Well, you and I can go! Doodles can stay home.

Ah, empathy in action!

Speaking of food group… Apparently last week, when they were making Thai chicken, the woman who runs the program explained that they’d be putting basil into the pot, and that basil is an herb. She later told me that Doodles responded by saying, “That’s good because Jewish people eat herbs.”

Of course he was referring to the bitter herbs of Passover. He was a little nonplussed to discover that gentiles eat herbs, too.

Our cable company went all digital and in the process they screwed up a bunch of things on our system. Adam called them to try and get it all fixed.

Pie: Who’s on the phone
Adam: The TV People
Pie: What’s their name?
Adam: I don’t know, Sweetie.
Pie: What’d they say?
Adam: They said they think you guys watch too much TV and we should stop letting you watch TV.
Doodles: NOOOOOO! We need TV!

I’m not even sure how to respond when my son announces as I’m trying to hussle him along in his bedtime routine, “Mom! You’re really starting to test me!”

Hmmm… wonder where he learned that line?

[as reported by Adam]
On the way to rock climbing

Adam: What do you think about when you’re rock climbing?
Doodles: I don’t know
Adam: You don’t know? What do you think about when you’re going up the wall?
Doodles: I don’t know. I don’t think about anything.
Adam: What? You don’t think about anything?
Doodles: I’m not good at thinking. My body doesn’t know how to think when I’m climbing. I just climb.
Adam: Really?
Doodles: I don’t think I think. I have to remember to think.

Whenever people hear that my kids are up at 5 or 5:30 in the morning, they get this horrified expression on their faces and say, “How can you stand that?” Even when I explain, they don’t quite believe me. But the honest to God’s truth is that we end up waking up our kids. I’m out of bed before the alarm (set for either 5 or 5:30) every day. I can’t remember the last time my alarm actually went off. And with our creaky house, Adam and/or I always end up waking at least one child up. This morning, I got out of bed at 4:57 a.m. I went into the downstairs bathroom to change, but before I was out, I heard thump, thump, thump on the stairs in a way that was either Adam sleepwalking drunk or a child. It was Pie.

Me: Pie! What are you doing up? It’s still night.
Pie: I was all done.
Me: But look, it’s still dark!
Pie heads to the window. The tiniest inkling of dawn is far away, but visible. She exclaims, in a very loud voice: Look, Mommy! It’s not dark! There’s light out there!

The plus side of this is between camp and a playdate after camp, she’ll be exhausted and she’s been known to fall asleep while watching her show, often at 5 p.m. I expect that will be the case tonight.

(And why was I up at 4:57 a.m.? My boot camp went for a 5 1/2 mile trail run–what an incredible way to start the day, running through the woods. It’s really a much tougher workout than straight running. I can generally run 10 miles at a 9:25 pace; here I did 5.5 at about an 11-minute pace. Hills, navigating tree roots and rocks, mud–all slow down the pace. But it’s such a serene day to start the day that I came home even more energized than I usually do after boot camp.)

Doodles slept a smidgen later, but not enough to keep him up very late tonight.

The two of them have been killing me lately, but in a fun way. Doodles is still in his independence phase, but it’s gotten a lot easier to tolerate. He’s mellowing some, I’m mellowing some. Pie can still unleash a wicked temper tantrum, but they’re fewer and farther between. But they are a trip together.

Doodles is completely laid back and Pie is fairly high strung (hmmm, I wonder which parent each of them takes after!). Pie will get really worked up about something, and Doodles is just, “Whatever!” Like yesterday at ice skating. Doodles always wears the dark blue gloves; Pie wears the light blue. Pie began to have an absolute fit. “I want the other blue gloves. The OTHER blue gloves!” I suggested she take a deep breath and simply ask her brother.

Pie: [taking deep gasping breaths till her voice is normal] Doodles?
Doodles: Yeah?
Pie: Doodles, can we trade mittens?
Doodles, shrugging: Sure!

Nine times out of ten, Pie wants what Doodles has. And nine times out of ten, he’ll swap with her. Especially because of this, I try to be especially respectful when he doesn’t want to swap or share. And generally, I can tell who’s the instigator in any problem.

For instance, yesterday, there was a battle over a drum. I’m 99.9% sure that Doodles had it first, and Pie didn’t want him to have it. I caught the two of them struggling with it. In true Solomon’s wisdom fashion, I told them, “If you guys can’t figure a way to make this work, I’m going to put the drum into time out.”

Pie immediately latched on. “Yes! Drum in time out! Drum in time out!”

So of course I handed the drum to Doodles. Later I came out when I heard Pie yelling, “Close the gate! Close the gate!” I found the drum on the steps and Pie trying to close the bottom gate. We never close that gate except when someone is sitting on the stairs in time out. She was determined to give that drum a time out one way or another!

Of course the biggest problem with have is with… smooches! Doodles is an affectionate kid and he smooches Pie. Pie sometimes likes it, sometimes not. I heard blood-curdling screams two days ago, and I ran, figuring someone had impaled himself or something equally horrific.

Pie, trying to talk in the sobs: Doodles smoooo me! He smoooo me!
Me: He smushed you? That wasn’t very nice.
Take Pie to Doodles.
Me: Where did you smush her?
Doodles: Right here [points to the top of his head]
Me: You smushed her head?
Doodles: Smooched.
Me: Oh! You smooched her!
Nods from everyone.
Pie: He smooched me! He smooched me!
Me: Well, there’s only one thing you can do!
Pie looks at me expectantly.
Me: Get him back! If he smooches you, you should smooch him back! Even more!
Pie instantly stops crying.
Pie: Yeah!!!
Pie goes running after Doodles, smooching him all over his head while he mock cries.

Crisis averted. Peace reclaimed. Maybe I should be sent abroad as a peace envoy. I’ve got loads of experience.

Doodles had a playdate today with a friend who’s six month younger, and therefore who has another year before she goes to kindergarten. On the car ride today on the way home from camp:

Doodles: Next year I got to kindergarten.
Friend: But we can still have playdates, right?
Doodles: Oh, yes. Lots and lots and lots of playdates.
Friend: Good.
Doodles: Maybe we can have double playdates! With you and my new kindergarten friends.
Me: That could be nice! Introduce F. to some new people.
Doodles: Yeah! [pause] There’s only one problem.
Friend: Yeah?
Doodles: By the time I’m in kindergarten, I may not remember you anymore.

Those who know me personally know that my OCD gets the better of me when any type of Martha Stewart task is involved, like the kids’ birthdays. I like to go whole hog. Including making rather involved invitations. I’ve actually gotten to the point where they don’t take that long to make, but they aren’t just filling in the blanks on preprinted cards, either. There’s photography and Photoshopping involved. So the kids’ cards are done. I show each of them the card.

First, Pie:
Me: Sweetie, this is the invitation to your party.
Pie: Mommy! It’s pretty! Look at me on it! It’s pretty! Thank you, Mommy!

I show Doodles the card I’ve made for him.

Doodles: Okay.
Me: Do you like it?
Doodles: It’s fine.
Me: Is there anything different you’d like on there?
Doodles: No. It’s good.

Clearly Doodles has attended the Adam School of Reactions. Lucky me!