End of an era

The King Julian/Madagascar version of ‘I like to Move it’ came on Kids’ Place Live this afternoon.

I was dancing, rocking it out.  I am an excellent dancer.  People in other cars looked on, filled with envy for my mad skills.  “Will!”  I yelled back, “Do you like my crazy dance moves?”

“Um, they’re kind of weird.  And how are you driving the car?  Aren’t you driving?  Put your hands on the wheel.  Mommies are not supposed to dance, you look weird.”

And so it begins.

Scoop me up, give me a big squeezin’ hug, and kiss me ten times!

Henry’s prescription for his injured hand.  Love that kid.

No no no no no no no no

I’ve inadvertently taught Charlie to shake his head.  He’s been on antibiotics for about a month now, since we’re trying to shake off a persistent ear infection.  He didn’t like the augmentin.   He would shake his head ‘nonono’ when I tried to dose him with it, and I guess he decided he liked the feeling.  So he started doing it all the time.  You lay him on his back, he smiles and shakes his head no.    I started saying “No no no!” and laughing, and I guess he digs it, because now if you say “No no no” to him, he’ll shake his head.

But NOW he associated shaking his head with being happy, because when a happy event occurs (getting out of his car seat, getting food to eat, Will coming over to talk to him) he shakes his head “NO NO NO,” giggles, and laughs.  It’s awesome.

Robot still life

“These people came to my house”

says Henry, holding up my US Weekly.  I think the cover subjects are the current Bachelor and the show’s villain. “They came for work. We had chocolate milk in real cups. Not sippy cups.”

Feet fight

The next generation!

Opposite day

Will declared that Sunday was Opposite Day. At lunch he gave me a very sweet note.

Thank heaven for little boys

I am so grateful to have all these sons.  If I wasn’t so old, I’d have ten more.  Things I love about my boys:

1. They always, always want to go outside.  In any weather.
2. When they come in to report something, they’re always, always out of breath.
3. They are endlessly fascinated with sticks and water.
4. They could walk, but instead run.  When I watch them bounding out in front of me, I concentrate really hard, so I hopefully will remember them like this–bursting with enthusiasm about even the most mundane of destinations.
5. Say poop or butt to them. See what they do.
6. They like funny books.  They love to laugh. Sometimes they laugh too much. Sometimes they get rowdy. That’s okay by me.
7. There are strange experiments and concoctions all around the house, in various states of bloom and/or decay.
8. Pirates, robots, knights and ninjas. Also penguins.
9. Their only fashion requirement is elastic-waist pants. And shirts with cool graphics.
10. “Brudder, do you want to play wif me?”

Char-go

In the space of one week, Charlie has had a flurry of physical milestones.  He can:  creep forward and back, stand supported, move around while standing supported (but not quite cruise) and sit completely unassisted.

“They’re toys! They’re not talk!”

-Henry, mad at me because I was making his robots request to be cleaned up and returned to the robot box.

 

Then, he followed up his complaining by swearing off penguins.  “I just don’ like penguins any more. Ever. Sorry, Mommy.”