“How do you know everyone here?” She asked at my baby shower. I began with the people furthest from me. Before I could get to the people on my own side of the table, nearest myself she said, “Oh so they’re all his friends.” She physically turned away to not hear any more. I shrunk.
I had to stop in at the vet’s office today for more IV needles for the cat and a poop test kit for the dog. I lead an exciting life. You wish you could be me don’t you? So anyway I had Lukas with me and I mistakenly popped into the office at the busiest time of the day. He was being a tiny bit obnoxious and wanting my attention. “Come here.” waving his hand to me, “come here mom.” I stepped out of line to see. He was pointing at a toy clock.
“Go ahead and play with it. That’s fine.” I told him. And so he proceeded to loudly recite his numbers twice while moving the clock hands around the face.
A friend of ours who happened to be there asked Lukas, “What comes after twelve?”
Lukas, who does know how to count past twelve didn’t give it a second thought, “It just goes back to one again.” And he giggled. Smart ass.
Getting him into the car requires more patience than I can muster everyday. To get from one end of the house to the other he swipes his hand at the doorway of each room, or goes to the arm of the couch to punch in the code to open the ship doors. Yes, I blame Kurt. He couldn’t just leave the childhood movie indoctrination at Star Wars, no he must include Star Trek and begin the boy at the age of THREE.
My kids, when they fight, will yell out, “I’m going to Vulcan neck pinch you!” For fun they practice Darth Vader’s telekinesis neck strangle. Sophia will hold her arm out and slowly close her hand, fingers to thumb while Lukas pretends to choke and puts his hands to his throat. Everything is a light-saber. Everything.
To get into the car he has to open the door, punch in a code in the panel of the door where one sets the child safety lock, he gets in and flips the switch to the dome light, and punches in yet another code on the center console. If it’s just Lukas and I then his blanket (Friend) or Elmo needs to be buckled in Sophia’s seat. The seat-belt must go across and be secured. Then he takes his sweet-ass time getting into his own seat. And that’s not just leaving the house, but also leaving the store, park, wherever. This is why I no longer leave the house. Even if he just ate breakfast when this routine begins it’s time for another damn meal by the time he’s finished. And this doesn’t include all the pausing while he corrects me after I tell him to get in the car and get in his seat, “You mean FLYING car.” Yes, the flying car.
So these days I’ll occasionally find myself playing “Cribbage” on a spaceship with Lukas. He’ll get out a deck of “peanut” (pinochle) cards that he insist are for Yahtzee. He spends 20 minutes (I timed it, seriously) telling me how to play the game. I’m pretty sure these rules are made up and the points don’t seem to matter.
At the end of her preschool career…is it a career? Really it’s less than a part-time job at three hours a day two days a week. Anyway throughout that and particularly at the end I was repeatedly told that Sophia knew everything. The teachers gushed at how smart she is. They asked me if I intended to put her in full-time kindergarten. Kurt and I believed it would be a good thing for her and we were willing to pay for it, so yes. Her teachers said they felt she would become board. We were informed that full-time kindergarten doesn’t mean more instruction – it’s the same curriculum, just with more hours. Because of that, the statement of her becoming bored coupled with the gushing and fawning over her intelligence, I asked, “So should she skip kindergarten?” And suddenly everyone looks at their feet and digs a toe into the floor.
We didn’t push anything. I didn’t understand all the gushing if they didn’t think skipping a grade was a possibility, so last year was part-time kindergarten. She was at the top of everything and did just fine. Just about all the goals for kindergarten were reached before that school year even started. This year is first grade. She brings two books home each night to read. At first the books were levels 16 and 18, which she mostly flew right though. She is now, while still within the first trimester of school, reading at level 20. Sophia told me that the goal the teacher set for the class was to be at level 6 by Christmas break.
Well, I’m glad the teachers recognize where she is at and bump her to the next level in reading to keep it challenging for her. I just wish they would do the same in math. She is receiving sheets of addition problems for math class and flies right through them. I don’t think she’s really ready for third grade math or anything, but she did make up her own game that involves division. So it’s really cute that they gave her a blue ribbon stapled to her math sheet when she completed her assignment so quickly that she had time to write her numbers from 1 to 200, but to me that’s a sign the child needs to be bumped up.
After a lot of begging on my part for another Dirty Kurtie gem of a tune Kurt wrote this one and emailed it to me, last year. Yeah I’ve sat on this one for a while. Though we do not sing it, this is pretty much our nightly theme song these days. To illustrate our need for our darling children to calm the fuck down, I present to you the twisted version of a 1978 hit… In the tune of I Need a Lover by John Cougar Mellencamp – Dirty Kurtie’s version goes like this:
I need some children that won’t drive me crazy
Some kids to hug me and then go away
I need some children that won’t drive me crazy
Some kids that knows the meaning of a
Hey shut the fuck up!
He NEVER naps. This is the rare Monday afternoon, after a Halloween trick or treating weekend. It’s been so long since this one had naps I can’t really remember when they stopped. I’m pretty sure they ended at two and a half. We took the rail off his crib to turn it into a day bed when he was three and naps were already a thing of the past before that point.
Even on this day he didn’t want to settle down for a nap. The only way I can make it happen is to lay on the couch myself to take a nap. I woke up and realized he was actually laying still. Behold, the nap.
The kids (husband included) were watching a batman cartoon this evening.
Sophia, “I wouldn’t want that bad guy to be my dad.”
Kurt, “Who would you want as your dad?”
Sophia points at Kurt but then says, “It would be cool to have Batman as a dad.”
Lukas, “I want Homer Simpson for a dad.”
Yeah um wish granted.
After watching several episodes Sophia saw some similarities between the Simpsons and our family. We even have one cat and one dog. Sophia, “I know I know dad can be Homer, mom can be Marge, I’m Lisa, Lukas is Bart, Apollo is Santa’s Helper, and Bailey is Snowball…We need a baby for Maggie.”
No, no we don’t.
For weeks after she mentioned that Lukas insisted on calling me Marge. Anytime I called for him he would answer back, “You mean Bart.”
*growls like Marge*