May 2010

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Little Bundle of Evil

May 30, 2010 | 2 comments

Recently, a Facebook “friend” posted a status update about the inherent evil of humanity. It’s not usually the kind of status update I’m drawn to read, but I was fascinated with how adamantly convinced she was that human beings are, at our core, pure evil.

The moment Squirts was born, a lot of things crossed my mind. I was struck by the enormity of his feet. The volume of his voice seemed to have no limit. The color of his skin was a pink like nothing I’d ever seen before. The fact that we had not selected a middle name suddenly became of utmost importance (in that moment, we gave up trying to decide and gave him two middle names).

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Peace.

May 23, 2010 | 3 comments

You know what a super ball is, right? It’s one of those small rubber balls you get for a quarter out of a vending machine at the grocery store. When thrown, it ricochets from the wall, the floor, to the wall, to the ceiling and back again at speeds and angles that seem to defy the laws of physics.

At times, if you stopped and watched Squirts from the far end of a large room, you might think he was trying to catch one of those super balls just after being bounced against a wall. But as you got closer, you would probably begin to wonder what happened to the ball? Then, as you got even closer, you would realize, there is no ball. That’s just Squirts-in-motion!

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Tomato, tomato

May 16, 2010 | 2 comments

Squirts is a pretty good eater. There aren’t many things he doesn’t like or won’t at least taste. We’ve been lucky in that way. Just don’t get in any hurry at meal time though, because he eats at one speed – slow.

But there is one food at which he consistently turns up his nose.

If he sees any chunky red things as his mom or I put salad on his plate, he always says, “Oooh, no to-may-toes for me! To-may-toes are gross!”

We reply, “Oh Squirts. Those aren’t to-may-toes, silly. Those are to-mah-toes.”

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The Boy Who Cried Puke

May 9, 2010 | 2 comments

A few weeks ago, for about three nights in a row, Squirts found reasons to come into our bedroom and wake me two or three times each night. First, you will note that I said wake ME up. Over the years, I have come to learn that it takes a lot more than a kiss on the cheek from her prince charming for my sleeping beauty to wake. More like a firm shove of a foot to the butt to begin rousing her slumber.

So, the pitter patter of four-year-old feet followed by the whack, whack, whack of a little hand on a pillow don’t stand a chance. Hey, no one said he’s stupid. Squirts has accurately assessed how to get the fastest reaction with the greatest ease (a theme I’m sure we will continue to recognize into the future).

Each pitstop throughout the night followed a pattern similar to this: pitter-patter-pitter-patter, whack-whack-whack, “can’t sleep/leg hurts/bad dreams/monsters/concerns about a shortfall in the college fund in 14 years.”

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