Aliens Digging for Fossils

The other day I read Tai the book Aliens Love Underpants, which features brightly colored illustrations of aliens of all shapes and sizes. After we read it through it occurred to me that he might not even know what an alien is. So I asked and the conversation went like this:

K: Do you know what an alien is?

T: yes.

K: OK, what is it?

T: alien-tologist!

So now I'm worried that he thinks that paleontologists are green or purple or blue and have antennae and anywhere between 1 and 4 eyes. Next he'll be telling people he wants to be a paleontologist so he can fly a space ship.

That Poor Gorilla

I'm not sure how many of you folks know this, but Nibbles (the cat with no genitalia) is the friskiest animal in our house. And by frisky I mean, um, "frisky". About 8 years ago (back when he had a penis) he adopted a stuffed black cat of mine as his own. "Why does a cat need a stuffed companion?" you might ask. For sex, of course.

Nibbles and Sex Kitten (as we call it) were inseparable for years. Late at night, we'd find him biting it on the back of the neck and...um...you know. Sex Kitten is the size of an actual, small, cat. Just big enough to be realistic, and just small enough for Nibbles to be able to pick it up and move it from one room to another. We never knew where we'd find that thing each morning -- tossed in a corner of the living room, curled up under the kitchen table, or spread eagle at the bottom of the stairs.

Over the years, Sex Kitten got *much* use. This poor thing is now so tattered and threadbare

that it's embarrassing when people come over and see it, thinking it's one of Tai's toys--almost as embarrassing as having to tell people to keep their young children from touching it, but not wanting to explain why in front of tender young ears.

That is all just background for the news that there appears to be a new game in town. Not long ago, my parents gifted Tai a stuffed gorilla that happens to be black and roughly the same size as Sex Kitten. The gorilla went pretty much unnoticed and unused by anyone, including Tai, until last week. That's when we saw Nibbles saunter into the living room, carrying the gorilla in his mouth, settle down in the corner by the door and assume "the posture".

We rescued the gorilla right away, ushering him to safety up on a table, and gave Nibbles back Sex Kitten, who had been vacationing under our bed. But the next morning I found that poor primate at the bottom of the playroom stairs, looking rather ashamed of himself. Now, each evening we make sure the gorilla is up somewhere that we think is out-of-sight and out-of-mind, if not out of reach, but each morning he's laying on the floor somewhere looking dejected. Most recently, we discovered him halfway down the playroom stairs, and Sex Kitten at the bottom. So now we're not sure if Nibbles is upgrading his partner or trying to get a three-way started.

At this point I'm not sure whether to save the gorilla by hiding him away in Tai's room, or just let Nibbles go for it.

Selected Scenes from a Weekend in Vermont

Scene 1: The Trek North

1 hour into the 2.5 hour drive: (smiling) "Mama, I just got a big huge boogie out of my nose....and ate it."
1.5 hours into the 2.5 hour drive: (upset, almost frantic) "I can't see The Vermont!" My reply? "Look out the window, it's all around you." (He didn't get it.)
2 hrs into the 2.5 hrs drive: (all patience lost) "I don't want to go to The Vermont. I want to go home RIGHT NOW."

Scene 2: Who Knew a King-Sized Bed Could Feel Cramped?

I enjoy sharing my bed with Quynh, and I enjoy snuggling with Tai. But not at the same time. Never again.

Friday night-- after placing an almost-asleep Quynh in the center of a king-sized bed and tucking Tai into his sleeping bag on the floor, I foolishly attempted to go into the other room and have a glass of wine. Quynh wouldn't settle. My attempts at settling her just kept Tai awake. Tai wanted to know when I was coming to bed, and if he could get in the bed with me and Quynh. We called Daddy at 8:30pm and Tai announced, "I'm having trouble falling asleep." I then gave in and said all three of us could surely sleep comfortably in a king sized bed. After much flopping, flailing, talking, and whispered reprimands ("Don't lay on your sister!") somehow, by about 10pm, we all fell asleep.

At 3am when Quynh woke to nurse, Tai also woke. And became jealous (or something). He started pawing at Quynh, and at my breast, and then sat on my head. Yes, sat on my head. When he did not remove himself by the count of 3 he got an un-precedented 3:30am time-out. Tears ensued.

Saturday night was better, though it also started with an "I'm having trouble falling asleep" call to Daddy. I abandoned all pretense of staying up later than my kids and we all climbed into bed at 8pm. By the time I nursed Quynh to sleep and rolled over to snuggle Tai. he was still pretty wired. I had to tell him a lengthy story of the life, and death, of our long-dead cat Marmalade to get him to settle down (why he finds that particular tale calming is beyond me). Somehow we got through the second night with no one sitting on me and only 15 minutes of wailing at 3 am. "Is it wake up time yet? It's taking a looooong time!"

Scene 3: The Water Boy

Even though there is not much to actually do in Killington, VT if you are a non-skiing toddler, Tai only needed water to have a good time. It seemed like I couldn't keep him dry for more than a few hours at a time. Jacuzzi bathtub, shower, outdoor (heated) pool, back into the bathtub, etc. (Perhaps we should have just stayed home and soaked in the hot tub all weekend?)

Scene 4: Life and Death

At lunch on Sunday Tai claimed to be afraid to walk under the giant stuffed moose head on the wall. I explained that the moose used to be alive, but was now dead and stuffed (ugh). Though he still would not walk under it, he became instantly interested in learning which things in the restaurant used to be alive.

Pointing to a canoe hanging from the ceiling: "Mama, was that boat alive and it died?" And then, "Did that (wooden) duck used to be alive?" And on our way out the door after lunch, "Mama -- what about that man? (sitting and eating his lunch) Did he die?" Luckily, the man was good-natured about it and almost seemed entertained by Tai's curiosity. Whew.

Scene 5: Home Sweet Home

The ride home (at naptime on Sunday) was blissfully quiet and we returned to trimmed hedges and gardens, a mown lawn, a re-organized laundry room, and even a clean bathroom floor. But we also returned to an exhausted Daddy with a killer headache from lack of caffeine. (Apparently washing the coffee pot seemed like more trouble than it was worth to him).

While we were away Minh even found time to test the Halloween candy, just to make sure it isn't poison and will be safe to give out to the neighborhood kids. What a thoughtful guy.

My Big Boy

Tai is almost 3. How and when that happened, I'm not sure. Lately I've been marvelling at how grown-up he is. Some examples:


He orders his own food in restaurants. Granted, it's always the same order. "Do you have chocolate milk? And do you have mac n cheese?" And when the server comes by half-way through the meal to check on us he says "I'm all set" before they can even ask if we need anything else. (Perhaps we eat out too much?)

He can walk all the way around the block on his own feet, without begging to be carried just after the half-way point. Buttons is not a big fan of Tai's stop-and-smell-the-roses pace, but it's fun to do once in a while.


He's *nearly* potty trained and is quite good about using public restrooms. He recently delighted in selecting which port-o-potty to use from a row of about 8. Once inside he became fascinated with the urinal and (after I insisted he stop *touching* it) he requested to stand up and pee into that instead of sitting on the toilet. Afterward, he bragged to Minh about it.



No one has ever taken so much pleasure from doing laundry as my boy Tai. If he sees us with a load of laundry he insists that he be allowed to help with it. He sits up on the dryer and pours the detergent into the washer. He is also in charge of putting the Bounce in the dryer. Surely this obsession will last through his teen years and I'll never had to do another load myself, right?



He feeds the dog. By himself. For the past several months he's been helping me feed the dog and cats each morning. But the other day I was in Quynh's room changing her diaper when I heard it happen. "Buttons, down!" And then the sound of dog food being scooped into her bowl. And then. "OK, good girl!"



He selects his outfit each morning. Actually, we've started having him select it at night before bed, for the next day. This is an attempt to get us out of the house earlier on weekday mornings, but it has proven only moderately successful thus far. It's not so much that he cares what he wears, but he likes having a say in the process, I think. He's beginning to understand that the season have just changed and short sleeved t-shirts are no longer an appropriate choice. Except for that one favorite shirt I can't seem to get him to forget about. Now if he could just learn to dress himself, we'd be all set.

I always find something to worry about

I woke at 5:30am this morning to Tai standing beside my bed -- his face mere inches from mine. After the initial shock of that rude awakening, I explained that it was still "the middle of the night" and tucked him back in. But while I was tending to him I was thinking, "where the hell is Quynh?" I had put her to bed at 8pm the night before and had not seen her since. "Surely, she is dead," I thought (while simultaneously knowing that was ridiculous and she was perfectly fine.)

After settling Tai back in I climbed back into my bed and tried to enjoy the fact that Quynh was sleeping so long. But that only lasted 2 minutes. I peeked at her using the video monitor, but that does not allow me to see whether she is breathing. Knowing I would not sleep until I knew she was OK, I went in. I lingered just long enough to see her move her arm and then me and my aching engorged breasts went back to bed.

She woke at 7:15am and I ran to her at the first peep. I brought her into bed with me and she nursed long and hard. Let's hope she sleeps as well tonight.

My New Philosophy

I have this new method of keeping sane that I'd like to share.

Instead of walking by the giant tumbleweeds of dog and cat fur that gather up against the baseboard and thinking, "oh, this place is getting dirty" and "we really need to clean this weekend" I now stop, bend over, pick them up, and put them in the trash can. The most important part of this new method is that I don't seek the tumbleweeds out. This is not Active Cleaning. But if I happen to see one in my travels, I grab it.

Brilliant, right?

Who would have thought that I could have come up with this groundbreaking solution? It takes about 4 extra seconds and I only pick up one or two a day, but it keeps me from slowly growing more and more disgusted with the general state of the house and constantly thinking about about how much house-cleaning is on the horizon. It also has the added bonus of making the house look slightly more presentable in the event of a Neighbor Pop In.

Now if I could just bring myself (or my son) to do the same thing with the toys that are strewn all over the place I could stop grumbling about the state of the house entirely.

Lessons Learned (Maybe?)

This morning, while he was supposed to be getting dressed for school, Tai attempted to retrieve Emmit from the top of his bureau by standing on an ottoman, on tiptoes, reaching across an 18" span and fumbling around above his head.

He fell.

Naked.

Onto a wooden train.

I was nursing Quynh at the time, listening through the wall as a crying Tai told Minh what had happened. After some wailing and some exclaiming of "my penis!" when Minh asked where Tai had hurt himself, I found the two of them snuggled in Tai's bed, wrapped in a blanket. Man Time.

The lessons to be learned are many. (1) Don't reach for things on top of the bureau, (2) Don't stand on furniture, (3) Don't leave toys laying around on the floor, and (4) we need a better place to keep Emmit when he's off limits.