A Planetary Lesson

It is a requirement that kids of a certain age must have a fixture in one's room known as a nightlight. You never know... there may be monsters in the closet or one lurking beneath your bed, ready to grab you by the ankles if you dare to go pee in the night. But, ahhhhh, the power of a nightlight. At the mere sight of it, monsters retreat back into the darkest recesses of a child's room. Like vampires, they fear light as much as children fear them.

But not just any nightlight will do, oh no! My kids have super cool nightlights. In the girls' room, a light show shines on the wall. Colors fade from dark blue to purple to pink then green before starting all over again. In the boys' room, a light shines on the ceiling that displays all the planets. When Phoenix didn't like not being able to see the planets on the ceiling from the lower bunk of his bed, Alyssa had the genius idea of plugging the light in on the wall directly beside Phoenix. The planets then brightly lit up the bottom of the upper bunk. Alyssa lied in bed with Nix and they claimed whose planets were whose. Alyssa properly identified many of them and Phoenix, like the parrot he is, mimicked her every word. Then they began assigning other family members their planets.

I could hear them; Alyssa said, "I have Saturn and Phoenix gets Neptune..."

I smiled listening to the kids so sweetly interact at a bedtime. Surely this would be a fond memory for them one day.

Phoenix continued, "and Maginnis get Mars and David has the Anus planet..."

I had been up in the top bunk with Maginnis scratching his back and nearly fell off the bed laughing. Alyssa was the only one that really got the joke so I had to explain that an anus was...well...it's...your butt hole. There. I said it. At that, the whole room fell apart.

While laughing until tears slid out the corners of my eyes, I recalled a friend in college. She had lost her I.D at a night club the night before and had to call the credit card company and report it lost. The customer service rep kindly asked if she new where she lost her card and my friend flatly answered, "Uranus."

Silence on the other end of the phone.

"No. Really. It's in Uranus."

More silence and then a clearing of the throat.

"Lady, it's a bar. Okay? Like the planet..."

Ur-anus. Now that's a funny planet.

Booger Collection

Never, and I mean never, try to out-gross a kid. You will always lose. As the boys and I were driving back from Kentucky over the weekend, I listened to them play the ultimate cut-down contest.

Maginnis: "You're slimy eyeball juice..."

Phoenix: "Yeah, well you're a dirty diaper..."

Maginnis: "You're a smelly fish breath head..."

Phoenix: "You're a dog and you lick your butt!"

Yep. I think the four year old won that round. Where does he get that material? Hmm...the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

David was giving Phoenix a hard time about having a snotty nose a while back. Basically, he told him that it's not cool to snort drippy boogers up into your brain and that it's even worse to let drippy boogers run down your lip and into your mouth. He told Phoenix that if he saw him with a boogery nose, he was going to pin him down, dig his boogers out with a spoon and add them to his booger collection in a jar he had hidden in his closet. Phoenix rolled on the floor and laughed until tears popped out of his eyes.

About a week later, David took the boys shopping at Publix. He zoomed the buggy around like a demolition derby car and the boys squealed with delight. Good thing I wasn't there, I might have had a heart attack watching him with the buggy. David brought the boys to a screeching halt in the freezer section, opened one of the glass doors, and began to grab frozen waffles. As he closed the door and turned around he was greeted by a smiling Nix, arm outstretched, finger pointing and a huge, yellow, oozy, crusty booger dangling.

"Here David, this is for your collection!"

Bips

There are some words that your toddler says that you will remember forever. For instance, a sippy cup is still called a bubba even though neither of my kids use one anymore.

If you were to ask Phoenix what his favorite cereal is, he would say "Peanut Butter Chocolate Flava" and would roll his head while saying it. Mind you, the cereal's real name is Reece's Chocolate Peanut Butter Puffs.

When Phoenix was about 2 years old, he called chips "bips." And boy did he love his chips. You wouldn't even think of taking the Pringles can from him.

"Back off my bips," he'd say.

That holiday season we had a party to attend at a friend's house. Many of the guests had kids and they had all brought new toys from Santa. Down the hall, the boys raced cars on the wood floor, while in the spare bedroom, the girls worked on an art project. In the living room, friends gathered around an enormous Christmas tree decorated with blue glowing lights and shiny, blue, retro-styled, glass ornaments.

As the evening lingered sleepy children found their way to their parents' laps or the warm laps of their parents' friends. I sat on the couch with Maginnis in my arms while Phoenix made the social rounds about the coffee table. Engaged in a converstaion with a friend I had not seen in some time (probably not since th last holiday party) I felt a subtle nudge from someone sitting next to me. When I turned my attention to her, she tilted her head in the direction of Phoenix. Looking up, I saw the entire room staring at Phoenix as he took bip after bip, licked off the salt, and then returned the bip to the basket. My gasp made everyone erupt into laughter.

Now every year, when we go to the same friend's house for their annual holiday party, I am reminded by everyone of the "bip licking incident."

Wall-E

With every Disney or Pixar animation there seems to be a wealth of material that becomes integrated into our family's daily language. For instance, when Finding Nemo came out, we possessively declared anything that was ours "mine, mine, mine, mine" like the seagulls flying through the sail of the boat. The little hyena from Lion King, with the voiceover done by "Cheech" Marin, said, "I'm so hungry I just gotta have a wilderbeast." That quote became the "I'm Starving" call out for the girls. I thought I would never hear the end of "Curse you teeny tiny toilet," from Despicable Me. Then, from the same movie, there was "I said DART gun...not [fart gun]."

Back when the movie Cars came out, I was trying to potty train Phoenix. Then I discovered a book called Potty Train Your Child in Just One Day, by Teri Crane (which, by the way, truly works). The book recommends throwing a potty party for your child, preferably a themed one. At the time, Nix was mad for the movie Cars. We had every Cars toy imaginable. He watched the movie at least once a day, had a big stuffed Lightening McQueen pillow, and Cars pajamas and slippers. For the party, I made a race track from the party room to the bathroom. Every trip to the bathroom became the Piston Cup (or in our case the Pissin' Cup).

Then there was Wall-E, the movie with the lovable robot who cleaned the Earth's garbage after man abandons the planet. Wall-E spends his days compressing trash and collecting trinkets. He is startled when he pulls the trigger of a fire extinguisher, naively throws away a sparkly diamond, engagement ring in favor of the hinged box he found it in, and is baffled by a lace piece made of straps and twin molded cups that end up on his face. This last piece, is a true curiosity to Wall-E or for that matter Phoenix.

Within days of seeing the movie, Phoenix skips from the doorway of my closet while I am getting ready in the bathroom one morning. He flashes his dimples at me before whipping my favorite black, lace, Victoria's Secret bra out from behind his back and over his eyes.

"Waaall-E" Phoenix impersonates.

"Silly..." I mechanically reply.

The Magic of Butt Fire

As I mentioned in an earlier post, boys relish in all things disgusting. So it comes as no surprise that farts are the world's most entertaining noise to my kids. I once bought Potty Putty for the boys. Ever seen the stuff? It comes in a plastic container shaped like a tiny toilet. The contents of the toilet look like slimy gelatin. When you dig your fingers into the side and then squish the contents back inside, it makes the most delicious of sounds - that of a very wet fart! The novelty of Potty Putty lasted for days and the laughter was heard for hours upon end until the stuff dried up into sticky gelatinous turds.

My boys love farts au naturel, too, of course. I once heard Maginnis fire one off with machine gun force. I was quite sure he had launched himself from his chair and that the seat would be riddled with smoking holes. The boys laughed until they couldn't breathe, methane gas, turned laughing gas.

Farts have become ammunition for Phoenix. If he doesn't want me to dress him, he fires a hot one in my lap. If I try to catch him to put him in the bath, he runs down the hall naked, bends over, and fires a ripe one in my direction before running away. When I listen to the boys wrestling with one another, I can always tell when Maginnis has Nix in a headlock.

"You better let me go, or I'm gonna fart on you!"

"Alright. Alright!" Maginnis relinquishes.

Yesterday morning, I pulled a very sleepy Phoenix from his bed and drew him into my arms for a quick snuggle before getting him ready for pre-school. He affectionately nuzzled his head into my shoulder then ripped one on my arm.

I could feel the vibration against my flesh and gasped in shock at his early morning antics, "Phoenix!"

"That's the magic of butt fire, Mom!" Phoenix whispered.

No kidding. Wait till he learns you can light a fart.

New Shoes

There are the simple pleasures of childhood. Remember them? A lollipop from the bank drive-thru, a sticker from the doctor, or a pack of bubble gum you could call your own, because mom said you didn't have to share it with your brother or sister. New shoes are one of those pleasures.

I took the kids shoe shopping for school. I hate shoe shopping. I always have one of two problems when shopping for shoes. Either the store doesn't have the sizes I need, or the shoes cost $50. I don't have that kind of money to spend on shoes that my kids are going to outgrow in a few months! Of course, every pair of shoes the boys fall in love with are the $50 variety with flashing lights and monster truck tire treads. I was on a mission this time. I would find cheap, cool shoes for school if it killed me.

Ahhhh (the heavens sing) as we enter Sports Authority. There are piles of shoes on tables at the front the store with a huge CLEARANCE sign. I thrust my hands into the heap of Nikes, Adidas, Sketchers, and Reeboks. Bingo! I score a pair of size 11, black, blue and silver Sketchers. Phoenix sees them and is tearing his shoes off like a super hero without a phone booth. I put the shoes on him. They are a perfect fit. I barely get the straps of Velcro attached before he is off and running down the aisles of the store. He runs like a gazelle. Like a mini track star. His smile is a mile wide.

"Mama. These shoes make me fast!" He beams.

You'd have thought they were cars the way he talked about them. I expected flames to shoot from the exhaust of his heels. If I lifted the tongue of his shoes, perhaps I'd find a tricked out engine. Needless to say, we sped to the register and I happily used my credit card to pay $30 for a pair of regularly priced $50 shoes.

Once home, Phoenix raced around the house. Everything was done in lightning speed (which is saying a lot for a four-year old). Perhaps he was absorbing nitrous oxide from the electronic, fuel-enjected, high compression, V8 engine of his shoes...or maybe he was just the happiest kid in the world to have new shoes. So happy, that he went to bed wearing them that night.

Naked Chicken and Seaweed Soup

Naked Chicken (nuggets)

What kid doesn’t love McDonald’s? And what kid doesn’t like chicken nuggets? Recently Nix decided that ordinary nugget eating was simply not entertaining enough. He developed a deconstructed nugget eating method that included peeling the fried crusts off all the nuggets, eating all the crusts and then eating all the nuggets. Weird. I know. Whatever – he’s four.

After an evening of skating with 5 kids (3 of mine plus friends), I took everyone to McDonald’s for dinner. As we all sat at the table, Phoenix began his routine deconstruction.

Colin, Maginnis’ friend, looked on with curiosity before exclaiming, “WHAT is he doing?”

Without missing a beat, Nix answered, “I strippin’ my chicken. I like ‘em naked!”

There's Seaweed in My Soup

Toddlers are so suspicious of anything new we feed them. They look at new food as if it were laced with poison and they might die from one bite. I usually keep my pantry stocked with chicken noodle soup and tomato soup, as they are both favorites with the kids. However, the last time I went shopping, I must have accidently grabbed chicken won-ton soup instead of chicken noodle. Hmmm. I made it anyway. I served the soup, sat back and waited for the questions to start.

Phoenix's nose scrunched, "What dis Mama?"

"Soup, Baby. It's chicken soup with a surprise on the bottom of the bowl!"

I'm thinking wontons are an awesome surprise.

Phoenix stirred his soup, green herbs swirling in broth, before his face turned into a full blown scowl, "Mama, you give me seaweed soup! I'm not eating seaweed!"

And he didn't.