Getting schooled by my six year old

Well, he is almost seven, so it is totally normal that he should be teaching me things, right?

Last week as we were playing outside (and heard thunder) he told me "Mom, did you know that thunder is caused when lightening heats the air around it to 55 hundred degrees?"

Me:  "Uhmmm.... no.  And how do you know that?!?"

E: "I read it."

I had him show me where he read it.  It is actually 55,000 degrees.... but really, if you're six years old, what difference does an extra zero really make?  To me, the fact that he even read this information and then was able to recall it at an appropriate time with generally correct information was pretty fascinating.

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This second story is a little bit harder to stomach because my six year old was actually CORRECTING me, CORRECTLY, while I was reading to him before bed last night.

We are currently reading "Mary Poppins" which is quite a fun little book.  There is a story in the book about a dancing red cow going to visit the king.  The king has a sceptre.  I read the line about the sceptre and made some comment like "I don't know what in the pants that is?!?"

Elijah responded with "Show me the word, Mommy."

Sure.  I am sure that my child who just finished kindergarten will be able to assist his mommy who graduated college with honors.  Go for it kid.

Elijah: "Oh mommy.  You pronounced that wrong!  The 'c' is silent and it is a sceptre!  I read about it in 'Mummies in the Morning' (a Magic Treehouse book).

Me: "Uhmmm, so, what is a sceptre?"

Elijah: "Oh, it's this stick thing that kings and magicians have.  Sometimes they have jewels on them...."

And he went on explaining a sceptre to me.  He was so ridiculously proud of himself (as he should be) and I was slightly disappointed in myself and my lacking knowledge of sceptres.

When he went upstairs to climb into bed he proudly shared the story with Marty.

Marty says, in my defense, that I probably didn't read a whole lot of books that involved a sceptre in my youth..... whereas little boys will read many.

Schooled by my six year old.

(Also, in my defense, blogger is trying to tell me that I am spelling sceptre incorrectly.... but I double checked Mary Poppins and that is how it spelled there.  So there.)

3 year old funny....

I love the things that 3 year olds say.  And I rarely remember to write them down.  So, here is a quick note from the weekend.

Gavin: "Mommy, Daddy have long legs?"
Me: "Yes Gavin, your Daddy has long legs."
Gavin: "No Mommy, the spider's daddy have long legs?"

Which caused me to laugh out loud.

Further explanation in sharing the story with Marty revealed that earlier in the day he, Gavin & Owen had seen a "Daddy-Long-Legs".   Which Owen promptly attempted to squish and apparently got Gavin thinking about the fact that the spider's daddy has long legs.  :)

Of Mice and Men

Of Mice and Men.  Great book by John Steinbeck that I read in high school.  And although this post has absolutely nothing to do with that book, the title came to mind.  Here is why.....

We bought our house 6+ years ago.  When we did the inspection we found that there was a bit of a mouse problem.  As in, the previous owners had d-Con (mouse poison) positioned throughout the main level and basement of the house.  YUCK.  Before we bought the house we had them remove the d-Con and hire an exterminator.

Thankfully, we did not have any mice problems.  Whew.

Sometime after we moved in we hired someone to clean out the ducts in the house..... the nice man told me that the ducts had a lot of Fruit Loops in them.... possibly placed there by the mice (or maybe small children).....  I, however, have never bought Fruit Loops.  Double gross.

Fast forward to 2012.

We remodeled the main level of the house.  It is great.

Before.

After.

We really like the update.  Apparently, so do the mice. (You can see where this is going, huh....)

One day last fall as it was getting colder, I sat enjoying the afternoon quiet while the boys napped or played quietly.  And a mouse ran across our kitchen floor and behind the trash can.  AUGH!!!!  

I called Marty at work.  He didn't answer.  I called my mom in Iowa (since somehow that might help). She suggested that I move the trash can and kill the mouse with a broom.  What that?!?  Apparently that is what my Grandma would have done.  My Grandma also butchered chickens.... she gave truth to the statement "like a chicken running around with it's head chopped off".  She chopped off chicken's heads and killed mice with a broom.  I am not that cool.  Instead I freaked out and just wouldn't go into the kitchen the rest of the afternoon for fear that the mouse might be hiding behind the trash can.  

We battled the mouse and some of his friends and have felt triumphant.  Somewhere in there I took the kids to PetSmart for a "field trip" and experienced a little bit of PTSD when the kids suggested we get a mouse as a pet.  Uhm, no.

Then last night Marty was on conference call..... sitting at the breakfast bar as I had been months earlier.  A mouse ran across our kitchen floor behind the trash can.  I was safe in the living room as he told me "don't come in here."  I didn't go in there.

He tried to smash the mouse with the trash can (unsuccessfully - gross) and when the mouse ran out from the behind the trash can he grabbed the first thing he saw on the counter.

A butternut squash.

He threw a butternut squash at a mouse.  

He actually hit the mouse and killed it.... with the very thing I was planning to use to make our dinner.  

He was still on the conference call for work through the entire ordeal.  No joke.  

Marty can now say that he killed a small creature with nothing more than a gourd.  How many people can say that?

Now if only we can figure out how the mice have gotten access to our kitchen!?!  AUGH!

Stories.... Of mice and men.

Edited to add:  Marty read this blog post and would like me to clarify.... his clarification point goes something like this "It's not like I threw the squash 6 inches, it was good 5 foot!  That's a big difference and you failed to mention it."  So, now I mentioned it.  He really squashed that mouse.  :)

Independence Day

We celebrated Independence Day yesterday.  More commonly known as "the 4th of July".  However, Marty is passionately against calling it "the 4th".  He says "we don't call Christmas December 25th, so why would we call Independence Day July 4th?!?!"  It is kind of like his thoughts on "the f word".

Throughout the day, Elijah was asking what we had independence from.  Regardless of what Marty or I would say, he always came back to "so, we are celebrating the day that the white people were freed from slavery."  Uhmmm, no Elijah.  The white people were not freed from slavery.  No discussion could convince him otherwise.

We decided to celebrate the evening with the city fireworks.  We got there 2 1/2 hours prior to start time.  We were armed with friends, juice boxes, glow sticks, balls, and plenty of snacks.  All things considered, the kids did amazing waiting for the fireworks.  We got a GREAT viewing spot on the top of a hill right by a fantastic pine tree perfect for climbing.  We sent the kid who already has 3 stitches in his head up into the tree for a couple hours and told him good luck.  He was in heaven.

The only photo we have from the evening.... Elijah up in the tree. 

9:35 finally arrived: scheduled start time.  The symphony orchestra finished up with a wonderful patriotic song.  The crowd cheered.  YAY!  One big red firework was launched and then we waited.  And waited.

It was slightly windy which is what we believed was causing the delay.

So we waited.

Someone around us was smoking pot.  Which is completely legal in Colorado... at least I think so?  I have absolutely no idea.  But the kids loved saying "Mommy, what is the funny smell?"  Hmmm.... let's talk about Independence day.

We waited.

Then the pot smoking kids lit off a bottle rocket.  While smoking pot may be legal, all fireworks in Fort Collins are illegal (including sparklers).  And of course, bottle rockets.  That led the local police to the happy little climbing tree behind us where they addressed the bottle rocket launching.  Not sure if anything happened with the pot smoking?

Well, by then it was well after 10p.  Many people were leaving, Owen was oscillating between trying to sleep and cry, and the nice police officers informed us they had no idea if/when the fireworks would go off.  We decided to join the crowds of people leaving.... by the nearest accessible exit: under the pot smokers in the pine tree.

We made it about 3 blocks and you guessed it - the fireworks started.

We went back to the park and watched the fireworks from the bottom of the hill.... behind a couple trees.  And they were still great.  All the boys LOVED the fireworks.   It was HOURS after their bedtime and they all just stared in amazement.  Owen said "more boom booms".  Gavin commented on the different colors, shapes and sizes.

Elijah said "Yay!  We are celebrating our independence from when the white people were slaves."

Kind of like walking and tripping....

This afternoon I was cleaning off the mail on my desk.   The two little boys and the neighbor girl were all upstairs with me chatting away about something or another.

I heard a loud thud down in the basement followed by screaming.  Now, this might be concerning to some people, but it literally happens multiple times per day in our house.  Literally.  I could tell by the sound of the scream that there was likely an injury sustained, but I have gotten into the habit of telling the boys that if they are able to walk, they need to come upstairs to show me the injury.... I'm not going down there multiple times per day to see that they once again stepped on a matchbox car.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

I turned around from my desk to see our 6 year old with his hands and face covered in blood.

Yep.  Real injury.

Here is the point where I should mention that I tend to pass out when I see too much blood.  And since we have three little boys, seeing too much blood happens on occasion.  I am working to get past this.

We calmly walked into the kitchen and got a wet washcloth to hold on the gaping head wound.  Of course, my first question is "What happened?!?"

Elijah's response was "I was walking and I tripped and hit my head on metal."

"WHAT?"  He elaborated that it was the metal leg on his small desk in the basement.  That didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but I decided to let the details go.

The neighbor girl went home while Elijah and Marty went off to Urgent Care (I'm pretty worthless there.... especially when it gets to the part where I am supposed to help hold him still so they can do the stitches.  I tried that once..... I had to lay down and have the nurse get me juice and crackers.  Seriously.  No joke.  We have been down this road a couple of times before.  It is better to just send Marty).

Fast forward a couple hours.  Marty reports that Urgent Care went pretty smoothly.  There was a minimal amount of screaming (which is to be expected) and this time Marty didn't even have to hold his head still while they did the stitches.  Three stitches were all that were required.  Not too shabby.

Waiting to get the stitches

Of course there was the obligatory post stitches ice cream visit.

When they got home I decided to review the walking and tripping story with Elijah.  After a bit of hesitation it turned into something like this:

"Well, I stacked up all the cushions from the couch and chair downstairs.  So there were 3 of them.  And it was pretty high.  And then I decided to run and jump on it.  But I hit my head on my desk."

Huh.  Well, there you have it folks.  Kind of like tripping while walking.... but still drastically different.

Maybe 10 minutes after getting home I had to remind him that running and jumping onto the couch is probably also a bad idea.  After every time we go to Urgent Care for an injury or illness (which I do need to point out we have not been there in almost 14 months), I have this fear that we are going to end up there again within hours or days.  It just seems to go like that.

Regardless, I do foresee more Urgent Care trips in our future.

"G-Man"

Gavin is known in our house as "Gav", "G", "G-man", "G-monkey" or "Gav-Man".

He is quickly approaching 3 1/2 which is (generally) a really fun age that I am appreciating a lot more the 2nd time around.  Within the past month or so he has really matured to the place where I am much more confident that he is aware of his surroundings and won't run out into the street - and wanting to watch out so that little brother is also being safe.  Basically he's just growing up a lot.

He is also HILARIOUS.  He currently has the goal of outrunning his shadow.  He tries this regularly.  While I should attempt to explain how it all works, instead I'm just loving this short, innocent little phase.  Because seriously, that's some funny stuff.

He asks questions constantly.  Like "Mommy, what that say?" and points out things like "See that number!".  He also regularly asks "What that thing do?" or "What that thing called?" when he sees an unfamiliar object.  Marty just mentioned his current favorite of "Daddy, what you doin?".  All the time. And just so cute.

One of my most favorite things right now is how he tells stories.  He tells his stories with both words and sound effects/gestures.  The latter is my favorite.  So much my favorite that I'm taking the time to edit and upload a video of it.  You really should watch it.  For real.  It is that cute.  The little video also includes him counting to 10 and his end of the year performance at CBS (he is the one jumping on and off the stage in the front).  :)

Gavin HATES to get caught doing something he isn't supposed to do.  Which is to say that he is really good at attempting to make sure that no one sees him so he won't get punished.  When he does get caught, he has recently resorted to saying "you no want to see me cry" (for going to time out, etc) and "me love you".  Which doesn't make knocking his brother to ground acceptable, but he is just oh so cute.  :)

And even though he has yet to see a Super Hero movie, he is certain that he is a superhero.  He prefers to wear he Super Man, Spiderman or Batman shirt every single day.  He is pretty sure that if he wears that shirt long enough he will actually be able to fly..... he tries flying off the couch on a pretty regular basis.  Thankfully it is only a foot or two off the ground and thus far we have avoided any injuries.

Recent pics of our big kid.....

"O-dogg"

The kids keep getting bigger.  I think it has something to do with the fact that they demand food every couple minutes throughout the day.  And since I would prefer to not hear them scream all day, I often resort to the aforementioned theory of "whatever it takes".  :)

My goal is to do short updates and funny stories about these small people over the next couple days (or weeks... we'll see how this goes).

He generally sucks his thumb.  But on this morning, his big toe seemed to be a better option.

"O-dogg" This is his nickname... Well, mainly just for Marty.  I don't know why, just go with it.  :)  It might have something to do with the fact that the boys have taught him to fetch like a dog.  He will crawl around on his knees panting like a dog and sometimes he will even retrieve the items thrown.  I digress.

*O is a climber.  He is our first climber.  He is fast and is into EVERYTHING.  I have turned around while making coffee to find him standing up in the middle of the kitchen table..... looking like he is ready to just walk off the edge and see what happens.  He has tried walking off the couch... he didn't seem to enjoy it a lot, nor has he done it again.

Follow the progression of photos here....

This was on one of those really snowy days this past month.
We had been inside all day and some fun needed to be had.

He spent a solid 30 minutes in this routine.  No joke.
And no injuries.  Whatever it takes. 

A difficult thing about having big brothers when there is
snow outside.  They would go out to play and he would forget
that he had been out that morning and HATED it.  

So, eventually Mommy gave in, got herself all dressed (again)
and got Owen all dressed (again) and after roughly 35 seconds
he remembered that he HATED the snow.
So, we could go inside again and be warm and happy.  YAY!

*He is in the phase where he waves and says "hi" to everyone.  In the grocery store.  On a walk.  Everywhere.  I think it is pretty cute and I enjoy this little phase.  :)

*Yesterday while I was getting the water temp good for the boys bath, I turn around to find that Owen had acquired a cup, dipped it in the toilet and was drinking the water.  ICK.

*Saturday Owen managed to open the door to the shed that has been added to our backyard while Marty was in the backyard grilling.  Before Marty noticed, Owen had gotten inside and had pulled out a bag of wood screws.  Now, this is kind of funny because when Elijah was about his age we took him to the ER to have an x-ray taken to ensure that indeed he had not swallowed a wood screw.  So, Marty comes in the house in a panic wondering if we should take Owen in to the ER since he puts everything in his mouth.  Long story short: Owen is fine.  We didn't take him in or really even worry about it.  At all.  That stuff about the 3rd child is apparently true.

A couple more photos to close.  :)

He really likes to play in the dirt.  He produces a lot of extra laundry
now that it has gotten warmer.  After nearly every time he goes outside
it requires a complete change of clothing. 

Sweet boy.  :)
(P.S.  Before you ask... his little necklace is an amber teething necklace.
I am not 100% convinced it has solved all our problems, but it also doesn't hurt.... so there you go)