Live a little!

We were getting ready for bed last night when Joshua asked for a cookie, so I told him to pull out the tupperware with the cookies we had baked at the weekend.  He had other plans and pulled out the 'special' cookies-Daddies vanilla Oreo cookies.  So he has the homemade cookies in one hand, Daddies cookies in the other, and a cheeky smile trying to convince me to let him have the 'special' cookies!  I told him to have one of the homemade cookies to which he replied, "come on Mom, live a little"!  I could not stop laughing, and neither could Scott, who witnessed the whole thing!  Words to live by I guess, what the heck, vanilla Oreo cookies all around!

The address

I have been trying to teach Joshi what to do in an emergency for a while now.  What to do if Mommy fell and was hurt and needed help and Daddy wasn't around to help.  Or visa versa.  We've practiced pressing the green button on the phone, then what numbers he would have to dial, and he knows, through lots of practice, that he must press three numbers - 9-1-1.  
So we kinda had that down, but then after watching a show where they were discussing the errors people make when making an emergency call - not knowing the address of where the emergency is, not explaining what is wrong with the person who is hurt, I knew I had more work to do.  I knew I had to teach Joshi his full address.  
Now, ask him what planet he lives on and he'll tell you its earth.  Ask him what country he lives in and he'll tell you America.  Ask him what state he lives in and he'll tell you Pennsylvania.  Ask him what town he lives in and he'll tell you Bethlehem.  But the number of his house and the name of his street, he didn't know that.  So, we set to work.  I asked him, "Joshi, what is your address."  He looked down and said, "my shirt and pants!"  Ooookay, so now I realize I have a little more work to do here than I had originally anticipated!  After lots of practice, explaining that 'address' is where you live not what you're dressed in, and lots of repeating, he got it.  "Joshi, what is your address?"  "1-3-1-7 Franks Avenue, Spray Hill, Pennsylvania."  "Great,"  I said, "fantastic job honey."  I was so pleased he got it, so now I upped the ante to check he really had it and we role played an emergency call.  I was the 911 operator, and he was Joshi!  Figures!  "This is 911 what is your emergency?"  "I don't have one," he said, "my Mommy had one, she fell and hurt herself."  Bless, I thought to myself.  We continued.  "What is your name?"  "Joshua."  "What is your address Joshua?"  "1-3-1-7," he said.  Silence!  Oh man, I thought, he forgot it already.  So I persisted.  "And what is the name of your street Joshua?"  "Franks Avenue."  Silence.  So I persisted some more.  "And what town do you live in?"  "Spray Hill, Pennsylvania."  "Okay, we will send help right away."  Great we did it.  He finally knew his address.  Now I just have to pray that if we ever do have an emergency that requires him to call 911 by himself, that he gets an operator who is good with kids and knows how to ask questions to a four year old, and to push and prod persistently for information!!!  Small order!

Chicka Chicka!!

I recently joined yet another book club for Joshi.  I really see buying books as a great investment.  I wasn't a big reader as a kid and always wished I had of been, so I wanted for Joshi to grow a love of books.  I have read to him ever since he was in my belly.  I recently bought him the Chicka Chicka 123 book, as he already has Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, and Boom Chicka Rock, and he wanted the 123 book.  It arrived and instantly gave that wonderful new book, crisp new page vibe which made us want to read it that very same night.  So we did, and he has read it a few times with Daddy also.  Then a couple of nights ago I read it again with him, and on the back page they have the numbers going from 1 through to 100.  He tells me he wants to count them, and so he does, ALL THE WAY TOO 100!!  Of course with a little help and guidance here and there, like when he say's 28, 29, twenty ten!  But this was my first time witnessing him count so far and I was just whooping up a storm with delight.  So, of course, I go into my Mommy dreamy zone, and I'm like, "honey you are so clever, I cannot believe that you counted all the way to 100, that is so amazing".  And here is where I REALLY go into the dreamy Mommy zone!  "You can be anything you want to be honey.  You could be President, or a Doctor, or a Veterinarian, or a Teacher, or an Astronaut".  Then, as if to abruptly snap me out of my wonderful, dreamy, idealistic place where Moms are free to roam through meadows and dream dreams that put their kids on pedestals so high they touch the clouds, and to also seemingly remind me that my child is infact FOUR, my son says, "or an eagle"!  To which I sigh and reluctantly reply, "yes honey, or you could be an eagle"!

A brush with the law!

March 15th, 2010.  That's the date my son decided it was ok to spit on a friend!  March 16th 2010.  That's the date he decided it was ok to spit on a second friend!!  Even after no book and no TV the night before, promises to Mommy and Daddy of never repeating the incident, it wasn't enough to stop broken promises from being delivered!  

So, as I go to get him from his class, his teacher, exasperated, tells me of 'The Second Spitting'!!  I'm dumbfounded!  "What", "he did what"?  I just cannot grasp why he is doing this.  So after asking him "why", "who did you see do this", etc, etc, a telling off from several teachers, a breakdown as I threaten his upcoming birthday party, we set off home.  On my way home I'm thinking to myself, what can I do with this kid?  Time out for 12 hours, soap in the mouth, no dinner and bed, smack on the bum?  What can I do to get through to him that this is just not behavior that we will tolerate?  Suddenly, light bulb!  Might just work, so I make a little detour on my usual route home and pull up to Fountain Hill Police station!!  Yes, I was desperate, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, a big hairy scary policeman might scare the bejeezus out of him to the point where he wouldn't spit ever again, not even to shine his shoes on his wedding day!!!!  

So the policeman approached and asked what was the problem.  "My son is in trouble at school for spitting on his friends".  "How old is he", he asked.  "Three", I replied.  "Will he understand me", asked the policeman, looking a little puzzled.  "Oh yes, yes he will", I firmly replied!  So, off we went into a little room with the two way mirror and shackles on the table legs.  We all sat down.  The atmosphere was very serious, and suddenly I had to contain myself as I felt a bout of the giggles creep up on me as I suddenly realized the very crazy situation we were in as my three year old (very soon to be four), sat in a police station.  His crime, intent to share saliva!  So the policeman did his best to be scary, which on my Mom scale, I could totally kick his butt with being scary, but Joshi promised (again), to never spit on his friends.  He had a go in the shackles, to which I pointed out where he would end up should he decide to share his saliva with the world again.  He also had a tour of the jail, which had the most disgusting toilet I have ever seen in my life.  He was most perplexed by the state of the lavatory, so I explained that naughty people don't get nice things, which is why the toilet is really a landfill in disguise, and that that's were naughty people who can't stop spitting on their friends go, (ok, ok, give me a break, I lied about the jail bit, but I'm totally serious about the shackles)!!

After giving thank you's, hand shakes, and promises of no more police station appearances, we set off home, his head bowed as we walk to the car.  "So, Joshua, are you going to think twice about spitting on your friends now, and never ever do it again"?  He looked up at me, "yes Mommy, I never want to see that toilet again"!!  Believe me, if I'm blogging in a few days about 'The Third Spitting', he'll be doing more than seeing it!!

That's my boy!

Joshi was all bathed and ready for bed, so we headed to his room and he jumped under the covers.  I knelt down by his bed to say prayers.  "You go first Mommy", he said, so I go.  When I'm done, Joshi begins his prayer.  He starts with, "We fold our hands and bow our heads and thank the Lord for daily bread", which you're supposed to say before mealtimes, but it's the only prayer he knows off by heart, and he's sticking with it!  Then he says, which makes this the best prayer ever, "Dear God, please help me to grow up to be a really good football (soccer) player, and make sure there's no monsters in the house"!!!  He then noticed me doing a bad job at trying to conceal my laughter, and asked, "why are you laughing Mommy"?  Surprised that these words had come from his beautiful, clever, wonderful little mind, I said, "because honey that was the best prayer ever and I'm happy and cannot wait to tell Daddy about your prayer".  "Oh thank you", he said, and with that kisses were shared, lights were out, and off I went downstairs to call Scott and tell him about Joshi's prayer.  Now, anyone who knows my husband Scott, knows that he is a major soccer nut, and that he has played since he was seven, and the only reason he isn't still playing now is because of a healing ruptured achilles heel!  And also that he is a big Manchester United fan, and is super happy that his son shares his passion, (as well as our dog Winston, but that's a whole 'nother post)!!  After telling him, his laughter resonated through the phone, "that's my boy", he said, "that's my boy"!!

Mommy's headband

When I came home from work and took my headband off to relieve my head stress, I had a funny feeling as I placed it down on the coffee table.  It was a feeling that told me, 'it's not a good idea to put this here'!  But I ignored the feeling as I carried on to the kitchen to cook dinner.  Not even ten minutes into cooking dinner, a distressed looking Joshi comes running into the kitchen with my headband........in two!!  He was all panicked trying to magically stick it back together by ramming the two pieces together.  Lucky for him I was also on the phone, so I told for him to put it down on the kitchen table.  After my phone call ended, I walked into the living room, broken headband in hand.  I sat down.  "So why is my headband broken Joshi"?  Well, (let me just fill this bit in with blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, as I honestly do not remember the rambling that went on here as he seriously tried for his dear life to explain the procedure of 'accidently' breaking my headband)!  "So are we friends Mommy", he ended?  "Are you going to buy me a new headband", I replied.  "Well there are no more headbands left on the whole planet, so I can't get you one", he said!  "Oh really, well I know for a fact that you can get me a new headband from CVS", I contended.  Suddenly a light bulb went off in his head, "I know where I can get you a new headband, from the headband shop"!  He was completely just trying to be cute to charm me into forgiveness.  What can I say, it worked!

Chewing glass!

What is it about stuff on the floor that looks so appealing and desirable to kids!!  I heard Joshi crunching on something the other night, at first it sounded like he was grinding his teeth, then I realized he was chewing something, so I asked him what he was chewing on.  The look of complete and utter guilt that washed over his face was of course the main indicator that he was not chewing on a nice healthy snack!  "Spit it out", I said!  His jaws clamped shut knowing that he was on the road to being in deep diddles!  "Spit it out now Joshua Scott Lee"!  I held out my cupped hand by his mouth and lo and behold, he spits out a piece of glass that he picked up from the floor!  "Why" I ask, "why would you pick up something off of the floor and put it in your mouth, (never mind the fact that it's a piece of freaking glass), that is sooooooooooooo disgusting"!  So then I just get the glassy stare, you know that 'I know I did wrong but there are no words to explain my stupidity right now so I'll just stare at you", kind of stare!  What can I do with that?  My repeated question of "why" draws no logical answer, so I put him in time out for putting stuff from the floor in his mouth.  Did that punishment work?  Absolutely not!  Yesterday I caught him chewing on a piece of fluff, yes I said it, fluff, that he had, yes you guessed it, picked up from the floor!!!!!  Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy people, why?