Tag Archives: tooth-rotting sweet

Someone to watch over me

My son has been busting out with mad sweetness for the past 24 hours. Although he asserted his masculinity by roaring along with some despairing OSU football fans last night for the first half of the game, when we came home, he sweetly decided he should brush my hair before bedtime. Then he kissed me on the forehead and said “Good night, mommy.”

This morning, he noticed the tiniest cut on my finger.

“Is this a boo-boo, mommy?”

“Yes. Just a little one. It doesn’t hurt,” I said.

“I’ll go and get you a bandage.”

And off he went to the bathroom, foraging for the band-aids, which were stored in a high cabinet that he had no prayer of reaching on his own. I tried to tell him that I didn’t need one, but he insisted until I brought down the box, pulled one out and helped him curl it around my pinky.

“There you go. Is that better now?” He asked.

Seeing his desire to be a caretaker, to be useful and kind, my heart lurched a little.

“It’s so much better now, thank you Declan,” I said, hugging him tightly, kissing his forehead.

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

Do I really have to subject him to (or share him with) the rest of the world?

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Random acts of sweetness

Declan and I have been spending time outside of the house this weekend in order to give Dan some time and space to finish a paper for school (he’s taking some classes at OSU).

Yesterday, we took my mom (Declan calls her Giga), who is still recovering from painful shoulder surgery and cannot drive, out to do some errands. It wasn’t without it’s rewards for him. He got a wooden train and a “tangerine” Fiestaware place setting out of the deal – every two-year-old’s dream! (He is actually tremendously excited about having his own orange mug.)

Afterwards, we camped out at Giga’s house for a while and watched a movie. When we finally left, he obediently thanked her for the train and the orange cup. She walked us out to the car, where he blew her kisses from the car seat and suddenly said “thanks for all your help today, Giga” followed by additional thanks for the train and cup.

Today we went to the bookstore, where he made me sit on the floor and read an entire children’s book about human anatomy to him. He’s very excited to learn that we have “tunnels” in our necks and chests that help us breathe and talk. He’s also obsessed with the ways that pupils respond to light. When he asked about a picture of a cat scan, I told him what that it was a picture of the brain, inside of the head. He thought about it for a minute.

“The pupil gets smaller with the light and bigger with the dark so you can see the nebea in there,” he said, pointing at my eye.

“Nebea” = “nebula.”

If you’re feeling spacey, there’s a diagnosis you won’t find anywhere else.

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Toddler mysteries

Fruitless searching
Two days ago, while playing on the deck out back Declan was suddenly insistent that we
had to go into the garage:

Declan: We has to go to the car now, mom. We has to!
Me: Why? We aren’t going anywhere this afternoon.
Declan: We need the pineapples in the car! Go! Go! He braces palms against my rear end and starts pushing me toward the garage.
Me: Pineapples? What pineapples? Note: Part of what makes this an odd request is that this is one of the only fruits he won’t eat.
Declan: We has to find them!

I’m curious to find out what “pineapple” might be a code word for. I grab the keys and take him to the car to look.

Me: Can you tell me where these pineapples are? Are they in a book?
Declan: No.
Me: Can you show me where they are?
Declan: No.
Me: Then I don’t know where they are.

Pause, then…

: Mom. I wanna drive.
Me: That would be unusual. Babies aren’t allowed to drive cars in Ohio.
I have to stop this habit of calling him baby. He’s almost two and a half. He stopped introducing himself as “baby” recently.

Declan: Of course babies can’t drive, mom!

This ended the excursion. And for some reason, he will now eat a bite or two of pineapple.

Mews of the weird
Last night, as I did some NoBloPoMo surfing, and he was downstairs with his dad…

Declan: “Mom!?”
Me: “Yes, sweetie?”
Declan: Do you know where Elroy is? We’re looking for him. (Elroy is our cat)
Me: “I’m not sure. Did you look in the bathroom cabinet?”
Declan: “No. We looked in the dishing-washer.”

Life soundtrack: The Beatles, Magical Mystery Tour, “Magical Mystery Tour”: Launch

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Perils of working at home

Me: Upstairs, working on a deadline.

(Noise from the bottom of the steps.)
Dan: “Declan, where are you going?”
Declan: “I have to go see mommy.”
Dan: “Mommy’s working, sweetie. Want to read this book?”
Declan: “Okay.”

(5-10 minutes later – footsteps up the stairs)

Dan: “Declan… I told you, mommy has to work.”
Declan: “She doesn’t has to work!”
Dan: “She does, honey. Let’s go play with Arrow.”

(3-5 minutes later. Footsteps again.)

Dan: “Dec, sweetie…”
Declan: “I just have to go up here and say hi to my friend.” (Climbs the stairs faster.)
Dan: “Say hi to your friend?”
Declan: “Say hi to my friend Mommy. ”

(Rounds the corner to my desk.)

“Hi mommy. Can I hug and snuggle with you?”

Must I have no heart to get my work done?
This is why I wish we had a coffeeshop with WiFi just an eensy bit closer to home…

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