InZane in the Membrane

2012-02-24T16:23:00.000-06:00

Conversation in the car...

Zane: Mommy, where's Nigel's butthole?

Me: Right under his tail.

Zane: Where are his butt cheeks?

Me: He doesn't have butt cheeks. Just a hole.

Zane: Why?

Me: (sigh) I don't know. Maybe because he doesn't walk on two legs.

Zane: Where's Cookie's butthole?

Me: Under her tail, just like Nigel. You just can't see it because of all her fur.

(thinking-pause)

Zane: Cookie's a girl. Does she have a pa-china?

Me: Uhhh...I...don't...really know.

Zane: Well, she's a girl, so she must have a pa-china.

Me: Yes, well, she has something LIKE a vagina, but I don't know if it's called that. I don't know what it's called. Do you want to play with my phone?

Note: Apparently female dogs have vaginas. And that's what it's called. And we will never speak of this again.

When you're six...

2012-02-24T15:58:00.000-06:00

Scene: Zane and Emily playing on her new playscape next door. Me pushing Zane on the swing and Emily swinging herself next to him.

Zane: Mommy! Am I going as high as Emily?!!
Emily: No. But one day, when you're six, you'll learn to do this.
Zane: I'm NOT! I'm always going to want Mommy to push me! Or daddy.
Emily: But Zane, you have to learn. You HAVE to!
Zane: No!

Aww, my sweet boy. But, yes, Zane - you're going to have to learn to swing by yourself. Mommy has short arms and is tired of getting kicked in the face.

Poop Humor

2012-01-25T19:11:00.000-06:00

Zane just made up a new word: poo-nami. That's a giant poop wave.

Sadly, I see this is my first post in two months. I'll work on some more posts soon.

More Poop Humor (You've been warned)

2011-11-20T12:33:00.000-06:00

Recently, Zane and I visited a public ladies' room together and he wanted us to use separate, but adjoining, stalls.

Zane: Are you pooping?

Me: (giggle) Yes.

Zane: It sounds like a squirty one.

Me: Yep. It sure is.

Zane: (squirty-poop sound) I'm pooping too. (pause) Nope. It's just pee-pee. Now that's what I call easy!

2011-10-31T08:58:00.000-05:00

THAT'S NOT LOUD ENOUGH!

2011-10-28T20:59:00.002-05:00

John and Zane were playing a game that they've played since Zane was about two. It's basically shouting "that's not loud enough" at each other until they roll over laughing. Tonight this game was taken to the next level with Zane's new-found competitiveness (usually just him declaring that he's won a race that you didn't know was happening) and John's very loud voice. It ended with Zane in tears, sobbing "Daddy, you won that game."

It's nice that John gets to win sometimes.

First Freeze-Head

2011-10-27T18:57:00.000-05:00

2011-10-21T08:00:00.001-05:00

Zane: What do you need your tongue for?

Me: Tasting.

Zane: It's like a conveyor belt. See, you can stick it out, put your food on it and pull it back in.

You never expect your husband to say...

2011-10-03T20:12:00.001-05:00

"Your mom found a knot in my butt. She says she needs to work my glutes tomorrow."

boo.

2011-09-22T22:13:00.001-05:00

2011-09-22T22:01:00.003-05:00

Zane was in the bathtub for about twenty minutes and I had asked him twice to pull the plug. The third time was more forceful.

Me: Zane. Listen to me. Pull the plug - it's time to get out of the tub.

Zane: Arrgh! (pulling the plug and then looking at me very sternly) You're frustrating me, Mommy.

He continued to look me boldly in the eye with his knitted brow. He didn't appreciate my poorly suppressed snicker, either.

2011-09-12T19:24:00.002-05:00

Zane's good friend, Adele, came for a visit today. They both ate a great lunch and played very well together, which was a nice departure for me. An overheard conversation follows...

Adele: That's not fair!

Zane: What does "not fair" mean?

Adele: It's like when a dog gets in the way. That's not fair.

Zane: What about "fair?" What's that mean?

Adele: That's like when you don't want something anymore. That's fair.

Fair enough.

2011-09-02T20:39:00.002-05:00

Since watching the Pixar movie, Cars, Zane has become passionate about driving, speeding and what happens when you speed. He's constantly asking me if I'm speeding and then accusing me of speeding if I pass another car. He knows that if you speed, you will get chased by a police car and I think he's a little conflicted about this.

The other day we were driving on the freeway and the following conversation ensued...

Zane: Are you speeding?

Me: No, not really.

Zane: What does "not really" mean?

Me: Well, I'm going 65 and the speed limit is 60. So, I'm only speeding a little bit and that's ok.

Zane: What's a speed lemon?

Me: (giggle) Speed lim-IT. It's the law that says how fast you can go. The law says you can 60 mph on this freeway, but it's ok to go a little bit faster.

Zane: What's a law?

Me: It's a rule. So it's ok to break the rule a little bit.

Zane: It is?

Me: (C.R.A.P.) Um...no...it really isn't. I'll slow down.

Poop Humor

2011-08-29T11:02:00.002-05:00

Zane, peering into the toilet...

"It's a grown-up. I dropped a grown-up into the lake."

Zane turns Four

2011-08-27T20:46:00.000-05:00

New Mimi

2011-08-20T06:56:00.005-05:00

Many of you know, and have seen, Zane's favorite stuffed toys - rats named Miss Heidi and Mimi. He used to carry around a stuffed guinea pig named Guinness but inexplicably abandoned him for the rats. After he discarded Miss Heidi because she was squishy and flat, I re-stuffed them so they were nice and fat and he renewed his dedication to the both of them.

With that in mind, and after two days of tie-dying shirts, I offered to tie-dye Mimi. Zane was immediately excited and we got on it. Done with the dying and with Mimi wrapped up in plastic wrap to wait the requisite 6-8 hours, Zane began regretting his decision. Not because she'd be rainbow colored (his favorite color), but because he couldn't have her RIGHT NOW and might not be able to have her when he went to bed.

Through tearful sobs, he declined my offer to go get another one at Ikea (because it would take too long). So, I pulled out the big guns, snuck into my secret-stash hiding place and pulled out a brand new Ikea stuffed rat that I was saving for a special-something surprise. That did the trick. Mimi was forgotten. Never mind that this one didn't look like Mimi (before or after her make-over). He had two nice fat stuffed rats and the world was right again.

Introducing: Black Mimi (his words, I swear)

Now to dig out the Little Black Sambo and Uncle Remus books that my grandmother used to read to me.

The Snowcone Won

2011-08-18T16:51:00.001-05:00

Some things are just off limits

2011-08-14T20:31:00.002-05:00

***Warning: this post contains references to TAMPONS***

Up until recently I've been able to keep my magical womanly time of the month relatively hidden from my unquenchably inquisitive little boy. Not because I'm embarrassed or ashamed of the gift that mother nature (Zane: or Jesus!) has given me, but because there's only so much that I'm willing to explain. I'm pretty frank with Zane when it comes to most things. I don't sugar coat too many answers and I have a really hard time lying to him even for a fun things like Santa Clause. He knows, for instance, that after a baby grows in a woman's tummy that she pushes it out of her vagina (ewwwww! was his response to this information). He hasn't asked how the baby gets into the tummy, thank god.

When it comes to tampons and what they're for and how they work? Not ready to open that can of worms. Just the thought of it makes me tired.

A few days ago, Zane and I were in a bathroom stall together (when, by the way, will I ever get to pee by myself again?). Zane peed first and as he was pulling up his pants and distracted by tiny little trash can in the stall I did my business (including tampon switch). I asked him to flush the toilet (which is his right and god help you if you forget that) and as he was reaching for the handle he glanced into the bowl to inspect things. He sees that which he did not deposit and the following conversation ensued...

Zane: Did you poop?

Me: Nope.

Zane: Did I poop?

Me: Nope.

Long pause. Wheels turning...

Zane: It looks like a sea monster.

Me: Huh. It sure does does. Let's go.

Whew.

Brand Conciousness

2011-08-05T11:13:00.001-05:00

"Mommy! Look! This Hotwheel is a BMW! Look - it has a teeeeeny tiny BMW logo on the hood!"

2011-05-21T07:27:00.000-05:00

Zane's breakfast yesterday: three bowls of frozen vegetables, including crinkle-cut carrots (still frozen, of course). Today's: tortilla chips.

True Dat

2011-04-27T09:09:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, Zane said two things that really resonated with me:

"Bacon? Oh, that's my favorite!"

and

"I really don't like to frow up."

Both brought tears to my eyes for, obviously, very different reasons. Fortunately, one had nothing to do with the other.

Legs and Arms!

2011-04-26T16:39:00.001-05:00

Zane drew a picture of himself and included arms and legs! He has, however regressed in writing his name (bottom of the page). Perhaps Saturday's head-bump is to blame.

Never leave a 3 year old alone with an Easter basket.

2011-04-25T17:09:00.001-05:00

Me: How much candy have you eaten?
Zane: A LOT!

What's sweeter than a little boy in droopy underwear and a band-aid?

2011-04-19T16:30:00.000-05:00

2011-04-11T08:24:00.001-05:00

"I was remembering when I broke my tongue and had to go to the hospital room and the doctor fixed it with splitches."

Note: He does NOT remember this incident, as he was only a year old when it happened. He does, however, like to tell the story at least twice a day. Every time he says "splitches" it makes me giggle.

Overheard today...

2011-04-10T17:31:00.002-05:00

"I need to go pah-tay. That's the Spanish of potty."

While we were building our new patio chairs: "Whew! Screwing is hard work! Let me take a rest."

Never thought I would say...

2011-04-09T17:27:00.001-05:00

"Zane, please take your penis off the remote."

Zane writes his name!

2011-04-05T12:15:00.005-05:00

Zane made a picture for John, put it in an envelope and asked me to write a note on it. After dictating the note (with much prodding from me), he decided that he would write his own name. I present Zane's first attempt at writing his own name:

The only thing that I actually drew was the 'o' part of the lowercase A. He then drew the "tail." He did ask for my help on the last lines of both the Z and the N and I just told him where to draw them. I love how he puts as many lines on the E as he can fit.

Poop Humor

2011-04-05T12:02:00.002-05:00

Zane eats a lot of fruits and vegetables and is, therefore, "excrementally" prolific. He's full-on potty trained with the exception of naps and night-times when he wears a pull-up. He's also a boy. As a result, he tends to inspect his poop and reflect on it multiple times a day.

Looking into the toilet after having a slightly loose poop: "Huh. My butt has a lot of different settings."

Overheard in the bathroom after another loose poop: "Wow. I dropped a lot of kids into the lake."

2011-04-01T14:10:00.001-05:00

Zane: (Doing the potty dance) I have to go potty!
Me: OK. Let's go to the porta-pottys.
Zane: I can't hold it!
Me: OK, well, I guess it's time for you to learn to go peepee in the water. Go tell Daddy.

Love

2011-03-10T07:38:00.001-06:00

Zane: I very very very very very very very love you!

Me: Oh, my! I very, very MUCH love you, too!

Zane: I love you 100 feet! I love you 1000, 200, 30, 30! That's how much I love you!

2011-03-06T15:13:00.001-06:00

Me: three minute warning, Zane!

Zane: Ok, Mommy.

Me: What did I just say?

Zane: I don't know. 10 more minutes.

Me: 3. Minute. Warning.

Zane: ok mommy.

Me: what did I say?

Zane: Thank you, Mommy.

A Cynic is Born

2011-02-27T17:02:00.001-06:00

Zane and John were weeding our little rock "garden" by the front porch. Helpfully, Zane was selecting the pretty rocks and setting them aside. I came over to see what was going on and the following conversation tool place:

Zane: Look at all the pretty rocks! What kind of rocks are these?

Me: Well, actually, those are pieces of glass. (decorative, non-sharp-edged glass - don't call CPS)

Zane: No they're not.

Me: Yep. That's glass.

Zane: No it's not. Daddy! Mommy says that those rocks are glass.

It doesn't really matter what happened after that. Suffice it to say that my skepticism for all things (which, no doubt, was passed on to me through both 'nature' and 'nurture' and I have worn like a badge my whole life) has bitten me in the ass.

Yeah - laugh it up mom and dad.

A Perfect Saturday Afternoon

2011-02-26T15:59:00.001-06:00

Faves

2011-02-24T16:57:00.001-06:00

My current favorite word of Zane's: swannich (sandwich)

I'm sitting next to Zane and watching him play games on my computer.

Ever since he started playing games on my iPhone (and now my computer, which is kind of annoying because he's really too young to have his own computer, but, come on, I want to play on my computer!) he's done this thing that makes me laugh and wonder what's going on in that little brain. Whenever he's given a selection of items and tasked with selecting the "right" one, he selects every wrong thing until only the right one is left.

Is he being silly or obstinate? Or do all the other kids do this, too, and I'm erroneously thinking he's special? Or maybe he really IS "special?"

Random Picture + Conversation

2011-02-22T17:43:00.000-06:00

Zane: I want a new Umizoomi. Mommy, can you download a new Umizoomi? Please?

Me: No, we have plenty. You can just watch one that we already have. Thanks for using your manners, though.

Zane: Oh. Can you upload one?

Reader

2011-02-21T07:59:00.001-06:00

Zane read his very first word almost all on his own this weekend (I had to tell him that, in this word, the 'c' made the 'kuh' sound). He sounded out all the letters and read CROCS on his shoe.

And he didn't even just guess that it said Crocs because it was on a Crocs shoe. In fact, he hasn't yet figured out "context." Like, if we're in Starbucks and the word that you're reading is on the Starbucks sign (which you've recognized since you were about 8 months old) and the first part says STAR - you can pretty confidently assume what the word is.

Sarcasm aside, I'm proud of him.

Why does Buddha wear gloves?

2011-02-04T10:15:00.003-06:00

Zane: (looking at Buddha figurine in bathroom) What's Buddha? Is he a superhero?

Me: No, he's just a person.

Zane: Why does he wear gloves? (No idea where that came from)

Me: Hmm...maybe it's cold.

Zane: Where does he live?

Me: Well, he doesn't really live anywhere. He's kind of like Jesus. You know how you learn at school that Jesus lives in your heart? Buddha does, too. They're a lot alike.

Zane: Why is it cold in your heart?

Me: Wash your hands, please.

Extra Fingers

2011-02-02T10:35:00.003-06:00

A Facebook conversation reminded me of this conversation with Zane:

Zane: Mommy, why do I have five fingers? I only want a pinky and a thumb.

Me: Well, all our fingers help us grab and hold things.

Zane: (grabbing something with only his pinky and thumb) See? I only need a pinky and a thumb.

Me: OK. Well, all the other fingers are extras. In case you lose a pinky or thumb. It's nature's way of having back-ups.

Zane: Or Jesus's.

Cookies!

2011-02-01T18:38:00.002-06:00

Many of you may have guessed that I am a bit of control freak when it comes to cooking. For this reason, I am very thankful for two things:
1. My husband will eat and enjoy everything that I make.
2. My mother and Zane's teachers cook with him (which means I don't have to)(yet).

Nonetheless, on this cold, wintry night, after our dinner of fish bites (sustainable) and Ore-Ida fast-food french fries, Zane and I decided that a) we needed cookies (or Scooby snacks, depending on who you ask) and b) it was too cold to go out so we'd have to make them ourselves.

After trying unsuccessfully to convince him that making cookies wouldn't be fun and that he should just watch Scooby-Doo while I did it, I bit the bullet, went into Zen Mommy mode and baked with my child.

Yea!

Scott's Tot

2011-01-26T22:50:00.002-06:00

Zane: blah dee blah blah

Me: blah dee blah

Zane: blah?

Me: Well, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink.

Zane: That's what she said.

No Nap

2011-01-24T19:08:00.001-06:00

God help me if Zane quits napping.

Zane: Are you happy?

Me: No, I'm not. (understatement)

Zane: I can make you happy.

Me: Oh, really? How's that?

Zane: I'm going to hug you.

Me: (smile)

Diaper Addiction

2011-01-06T11:39:00.003-06:00

We will soon be hosting a diaper intervention for our dear son, Zane. He is pretty much potty trained - no accidents with underwear all day at school, during naps, etc. He knows very well when he needs to pee or poop. He would just rather do it in his diaper than the toilet. Why? Because, as he says (and I really can't argue with his logic), it's easier. For him, that is. Our arguments of costliness, time-wastiness, environmental-badness and ickiness pull no heartstrings for him. Our stern looks and platitudes of being a big-boy bear no weight next to his laziness.

Case in point, our conversation this morning, shortly after he got out of bed...

Me: Let's change out of that wet diaper. (He will clearly need to wear an extra-absorbent diaper to bed at night for awhile as when he wakes up in the morning it weights about 5 pounds)(Right now that wet diaper is drooping to his knees and he has to waddle around the house)

Zane: Nope-ahs.

Me: Yep - you don't have to get dressed yet. Just put some underwear on. You can put your clothes on right before school.

Zane: But I don't like underwear. I'll put on a pull-up.

Me: Nope - you wear underwear to school.

Zane: But I. Don't. Like. Underwear.

Me: I know, but You. Wear. Underwear. To. School.

Zane: Well, I want to air it out. I'll just go bare bottom. (Come on - this is only marginally easier than underwear)

Me: Fine. But you have to put underwear on for school.

Zane: Okie-dokie-dees

All right, yes, I know that we are enablers. This intervention is as much for us as for him. That's why I bought our last package of pull-ups this weekend and warn Zane on a multi-daily basis that the dwindling pull-ups that he sees on his dresser are his last. That as soon as they're gone, it's all-underwear all the time (we conveniently leave out the night-time reprieve when discussing d-day). He seems to take it in stride. We'll see.

Can I bite myself?

2010-12-29T15:23:00.003-06:00

Conversation in the car this morning:

Zane has his index finger in his mouth as I look back at him...

Zane: (pausing as if he's doing something wrong)...Can I bite myself?

Me: Sure. Go ahead.

(Zane bites gently on his finger)

Me: Did that hurt?

Zane: No. I'll bite harder.

(He bites harder)

Zane: Ouch! Next time I won't bite so hard.

Me: (in my head) Really? Next time?

2010-12-07T17:19:00.001-06:00

Conversation as we're driving on 43rd street:

Zane: What would happen if I walked on this street, Mommy?

Me: Well, if you walked on the sidewalk, it would be fine.

Zane: No, what if I walked IN the street?

Me: You'd probably get hit by a car.

Zane: Or a bus!

Random Pictures From the Last Month Or So

2010-12-05T17:24:00.003-06:00

Zane the Builder

2010-12-05T17:16:00.002-06:00

Whether it's nature or nurture, Zane loves building and construction. Sometimes we drive around the neighborhood so he can see "construction houses" and he can name off many more construction machines than I can.

Zane often has to fix my tile project.

I thought I did a fine job - apparently not.

Right after this snack, Zane took

a nap wearing his safety goggles.

Chalk Face

2010-12-05T17:13:00.002-06:00

Zane was drawing on the front porch and made a perfect face with a nice round circle and perfect eye, nose and mouth placement. I told him not to touch it while I ran to get my camera and this is what I came back to find.

Sapsumas

2010-12-05T17:05:00.002-06:00

Our neighbors have a nice big satsuma (Zane prefers SAPsuma) tree and freely share their fruit with us. Zane loves to pick the fruit and peel it, but he won't eat it. I won't eat it either - the membranes are too tough - but add a little grapefruit juice, simple syrup and vodka and it makes a damn fine martini!

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T11:41:00.002-06:00

We're getting ready to go over to my brother and sister-in-law's house for Thanksgiving. I asked Zane if he was going to be nice to his cousin, Noah. His reply? "I just don't think so."

Why...don't you shut your pie hole

2010-11-11T17:17:00.003-06:00

Tired of the "why" phase. "Why" is no longer a delightful response to a world full of new experiences from a precocious and inquisitive little boy but a whiney, rote response to EVERYTHING I SAY!

Zane: Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy...

Me: Yes?

Zane: Can I have a popsicle?

Me: Yep. Sure.

Zane: Why?

Me: Zane, when you ask me for something, and I say "yes," don't ask me "why." I might change my mind to "no."

Zane: Why?

Lovely

2010-11-08T17:16:00.001-06:00

Overheard conversation between my mom and Zane in her bathroom:

Mimi: I heard toots. Is there a poop?

Zane: There's a biiiiiiig poop!

Mimi: Oh! Look at that lovely poop!

Zane: Poops are also yucky. They're not lovely.

Dirty Rotten Scounrel

2010-11-05T19:05:00.002-05:00

(I will try my darnedest to accurately describe the following event which made me laugh silently with my face turned away so as not to encourage)

Scene: Our den after pizza dinner. John's returned home after 4 days away and Zane is very excited. He's finished his pizza and two yogurts and is ready for his bath featuring his new "Ginormous Grow Dino" toy that John brought home from the Burbank airport and erroneously told him would get "this big" in the tub (either out of disattention to detail or unwillingness to wear his old man glasses, John didn't notice that the growing process takes 3 to 7 days).

Zane: I'M READY FOR MY BATH NOW!

John: I'm almost done with my pizza. Can you take off your clothes to get ready?

(Zane furiously disrobes to his diaper)

Me: Take your diaper (pronounced DYE-PAH because it's funny) off.

Zane: (pulling his tummy up and out of the way so he can see the pull tabs on his diaper and pulling one free) I have to go pee-pee.

Me: Ok. Go to the bathroom and go pee-pee.

(Zane puts the diaper tab back in place, stares blankly ahead with mouth agape and legs bowed)

(5 seconds pass quietly)

John: Are you peeing in your diaper?

Zane: (blank stare) uh-huh.

(5 seconds pass)

John: Are you done?

Zane: (repositions, blank stare, 3 seconds pass) Yep! I'M READY FOR MY BATH NOW!

Night Night Stories

2010-10-16T21:12:00.002-05:00

Overheard as John was putting Zane to bed tonight...

Zane: Whaaaahhaaaahhh! I want mommy to do stories! I don't want daddy!!!

Daddy: No, it's my turn, I want to do stories.

Zane: Whaaaahhaaaahhh! No, I want mommy!!! Whaahhhahahah!

Daddy: Mommy did stories for nap time and she told you that I would do night night stories. Do you want stories?

Zane: I want mommy! Whaaahaahahhhaha! Mommy pays attention! You'll fall asleep!

Daddy: I won't fall asleep!

Zane: Yes! You WILL fall asleep! Waahahahah....

Considering I didn't see John drink a single caffeinated beverage tonight, and he left half a glass of wine on the table to put Zane to bed, I'm afraid Zane's not just being pessimistic.

Proud Potty Training Parent

2010-09-28T08:26:00.000-05:00

This morning Zane woke up, asked to go peepee and poop on the potty and then asked to wear underwear. Yea!

Slowly, but surely, we're getting there. More importantly, and to my great relief, we're getting there without tears and stress.

Shef Habhab

2010-09-24T19:31:00.005-05:00

Zane and I had a conversation today that tells me two things...

Zane: Why does your car not have a roof that folds up?

Me: You mean a convertible? I wish I had a convertible. I will someday.

Zane: Maybe Shef will have one for you at the BMW place.

Me: Hmm...yes. We'll ask Shef for a convertible next time we see him.

(Shef is my service writer at the service department at Momentum BMW)

The two things? 1. My service writer at Momentum is great (my technician is fabulous - Zane just didn't mention him) and 2. My BMW needs to be serviced way too often.

Daddy is Fun

2010-09-19T13:44:00.002-05:00

I spent the morning working on an essay for my English class. Zane and John spent the morning having fun...

A wagon trip to Charles Donut shop for

breakfast and a stop at Oak Forest Elementary

to gaze longingly at the playground.

A discovery of watermelons amidst the morning glories

covering the Oak Forest Elementary fence.

A trip to Daddy's office to drop off some stuff.

Just checking out the fountain instead

because Daddy forgot his access cards.

Riding the gender-bender trike at the Waterwall.

Riding said trike down the very gently

sloping hill at Waterwall green space.

Apparently Zane got some other kids

at the park to push him back up

the hill several times., too. Nice.

2010-09-15T13:46:00.002-05:00

Zane has taken to correcting me. As in...

Zane: What are those things, mommy?

Me: Those are leaves.

Zane: No, those are LEAFS, mommy.

Me: LEAVES.

Zane: Haha. No, mommy, it's LEAFS.

It brings tears to my eyes. Zane is merely the latest in a long line of Childers' to know unequivocally that he is right. And to tell you that he's right. It's beautiful.

Julian

2010-09-05T10:06:00.001-05:00

This morning, Julian woke up before his mom and dad. I, of course, had
been up for hours. Our conversation follows...

Me: Good morning, Julian!

Jules: I was very sad last night. (sleepy, serious, sad face)

Me: Oh, why were you sad?
Me: (inside my head) Oh, poor thing was sad because Auntie Yaya left.
How sweet.

Julian: Because I wanted to watch my favorite show and I couldn't.
(pouty face)

Me: Oh, what did you want to watch?

Julian: Michael Jackson!

Me: Well, why couldn't you watch it?

Jules: (misunderstanding me) BECAUSE HE'S AWESOME!

Blue Eyes

2010-09-02T07:55:00.002-05:00

Zane: You have blue eyes, Mommy. I love you. (hugs me)

Me: I love you, too. You have blue eyes, too.

Zane: Can I see through your eyes?

Me: I don't know - can you?

Zane: (2 inches away from my right eye) Yyyyeeesssss....

Me: What do you see? Do you see my brain?

Zane: Yyyyeeeeesssss...

Me: What does it look like?

Zane: It...looooooks...liiiiiiike......me! A teeny-tiny-itty-bitty me!

Play-Doh

2010-08-31T16:27:00.000-05:00

He knows it tastes yucky, yet he's compelled to lick it.

Deconstruction

2010-08-25T07:27:00.002-05:00

Last weekend John demoed (I'm surprised that that is a real word) the walls separating our living and dining rooms. Originally there was a six foot opening and now there's a fourteen foot opening. It's fantastic, but now we really need to get the dining room finished because you can see it from the front door. At least it's not a cave anymore!

In retrospect, we should have waited until it was a little cooler out, as we had to shut off the power to that area to move some electrical stuff, including the AC thermostat. In addition, had we been able to open the windows, the dust may have been able to escape, which would have been nice.

Clubhouse

2010-08-25T07:22:00.004-05:00

Want to entertain your toddler for hours? Flip your couch over on it's back, push it up against the wall and call it a clubhouse. Seriously - HOURS!

Treasure Collection

2010-08-25T07:14:00.003-05:00

Since it's sooooo hot outside, we let Zane ride his tricycle inside the house. And, to minimize accidents, I attached a basket to the front so Zane could put essentials in it and use both hands for steering. This is the collection that I found the other day:

That is: a little box with a wiggling ladybug in it, tiny fire truck, Panzer IX tank (upper left), half a lamb from a magnetic singing toy, tennis ball and very old block that used to be John's when he was little.

And, yes, his trike is pink and purple. It was a hand-me-down and Zane couldn't care less.

2010-08-24T12:40:00.002-05:00

For some reason Zane was grumpy all day yesterday. He had a pretty good night's sleep and a nap, yet was super sensitive. Fortunately, he interspersed his whining and crying with this little bit of humor:

Zane (from the car seat): I'm tart, mommy.

Me: Oh, yeah?

Zane: You can lick me and I'm tart.

Me: Well, you sure got that right. Maybe if you take a nap you'll wake up sweet.

Zane: No.

Me (in my head): Well, you can lick me and taste the bitter.

Adele's New Trike

2010-08-22T11:12:00.001-05:00

No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed!

2010-08-20T11:13:00.001-05:00

Zane and Adele's Birthday Party

2010-08-17T15:56:00.005-05:00

Zane and Adele's birthday party was held at Gymboree and was super fun for all the kids. It was pretty darn fun to watch them, too. Thank you, Rachel, for all your planning and work! You made it really easy for me!

Zane and Adele's Birthday Party

2010-08-17T15:45:00.003-05:00

Zane and his good friend, Adele, shared a birthday party this year. They have a lot of the same friends, so it made sense in many ways. Adele's mom, Rachel, did almost all of the planning and work, so I decided to bang out some kick-butt cupcakes. The party had a "Underwater Adventure" theme...

Thanks to my houseguest and friend, Laura Strother-Dunsavage, and to my mom, Jackie, for helping with the cupcakes. Laura, you made beautiful lips and Mom, your dots were lovely.

Note: I don't really enjoy baking, so the cupcakes themselves were from a box and were only pretty good. The frosting, however, was homemade buttercream and was kick-butt.

Swim Lessons

2010-08-11T19:35:00.001-05:00

We started swim lessons at the YMCA last week. John's been doing the
in-the-water stuff, including before-lesson play time (pictured
above). I like how, when John asked me to take a picture, Zane was
strategically placed in front of his "problem" area.

MFAH

2010-08-10T12:39:00.001-05:00

We took our first trip to the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. Zane has
been asking to go to a museum like in one of his books (Olivia) and
was interested in seeing a Jackson Pollock painting. Of course, once
we got there, there were so many more interesting things than
paintings and sculptures: stairs, escalators, beds (benches), tall
ceilings with windows, tall window with ball-chain blinds...

When we got to the Pollock painting, I thought he'd be excited to see
something he recognized. Nope. I also thought he'd see interesting
things in the abstract sculptures. Not yet. When asked what he thought
various sculptures looked like he consistently replied "it looks like
a sculpture."

He didn't even think it was funny when I pointed out the butts on the
Greek and Roman statues.

He clearly has a future in engineering.

2010-08-06T14:16:00.002-05:00

Zane: One day I will go surfing with you, mommy.

Me: Oh, that'll be fun!

Zane: But...maybe it will be too scary for me.

Me: I don't think it'll be too scary for you.

Zane: Oh. Well, maybe it will be too fun for me.

______________________________

Me: Ick. Your hands are yucky. Don't touch anything and let me get you a wet rag to wipe them off.

Zane: No. I want a fag. Get me a FAG!

2010-08-04T22:10:00.003-05:00

Conversation while putting Zane to bed tonight:

Zane: (shining his flashlight on my cleavage) What's that? (like he doesn't know)

Me: My boob.

Zane: (putting his finger into my cleavage) What's that? What's in there?

Me: Uh...nothing. (giggle) Nothing's in there. It's nothing.

Zane: Maaaaayyyybeeeee....it's a butt-crack?

Me: (Stifled giggle) Ummm...it's not a butt-crack. (giggle) I guess it's a boob-crack.

Zane: BOOB-CRACK?!! Heeheeheehee!!

Things that I find unacceptable today:

2010-08-02T18:55:00.002-05:00

1. Zane not napping

2. My immune system attacking, no, BETRAYING me after visiting Austin

3. 102 degrees Fahrenheit

4. Mosquitos biting me inside my own home and car. INSIDE!

5. Jackwads not letting me over on 610 at TC Jester

6. Finding out that the TC Jester pool with the new splash pad doesn't open until 1:00 pm and having to park and walk up to the entrance past creepy guys hanging out on the steps to discover this.

Monkey Boy

2010-08-02T15:27:00.001-05:00

Zane and I were on our way to the grocery store and his window
suddenly started going up and down. I was fairly certain that he
couldn't reach the button so I was curious to find out how he was
managing this...

2010-07-23T09:45:00.000-05:00

Zane: It sucks we don't have Popsicles at home.

Me: Sucks for you, maybe (ok - I didn't really say that).

Why?

2010-07-22T14:57:00.000-05:00

Zane: Why I didn't bring my rat to school?

Me: Well, only you can answer that question. Why didn't you bring
your rat to school?

Zane: Because...because...because......I said so.

Me: hmm.

The Other Cycle of Life

2010-07-22T10:42:00.003-05:00

When Zane asked me recently about why we poop I explained it as simply as possible: we eat food and our tummy squishes it around and takes out all the good stuff to give us energy. Then only bad stuff is left and we push it out as poop.

Last night at dinner we had to force Zane to eat some noodles and green beans before he could eat his giant Snickers bar that the proprietor of the local liquor store gave him. He asked why he had to eat noodles and green beans instead of Snickers and I reminded him about eating good food for energy and then quizzed him on what happens to food when your tummy's done with it.

Me: ...and then after your tummy's taken out all the good stuff, what happens to your food?

Zane: blank stare

Me: Remember? We talked about this earlier today. Your body takes all the good stuff out of your food and turns it into what? And you push it out of your body? What is it then?

Zane: CANDY!!!

So maybe our reward system of candy for using the potty is flawed.

The Cycle of Life

2010-07-22T10:40:00.001-05:00

Zane: That is a bee-yoooo-tee-ful butterfly. And it will play the eggs and then it will be a bee-yoooo-tee-ful caterpillar.

I love you Zane, but please shut your pie hole.

2010-07-14T13:07:00.003-05:00

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

2010-06-22T21:38:00.001-05:00

2010-06-20T11:52:00.001-05:00

Playing in the pool...

Zane: I want to die, mommy. What does die mean, mommy?

Me: Uhhh...I...uhhh...hmmm..

Personal Essay Writing - Class 2

2010-06-10T22:41:00.002-05:00

This homework assignment was to write a 1-2 page Character Study about anyone. Here's mine...

He wakes up early this morning: 6:34. He lies in bed for awhile just thinking out loud, remembering what he was thinking about before he went to bed. Getting up is sometimes hard for him, but this morning he’s ready to go. Not bothering to get dressed, he pads over to the couch to munch on whole grain cereal and catch up on his shows. TV in the morning is strictly intellectual to get his mind moving.

After awhile he switches to fruit and the iPhone. Blueberries, his favorite, are finally in season and readily available. He can’t get enough and sometimes breaks down if he runs out. He chugs some good ole moo juice to balance it all out - he knows all about the nutritional value of milk, what with the calcium, proteins and vitamin D, but he’d drink it anyway because he loves it.

Not that he needs the vitamin D - he obviously spends his share of time outside. His sun kissed hair is proof of that. A little long and shaggy right now, but cool enough for him - and the ladies certainly like it. Though diligent with the sunblock, his baby smooth skin has been caressed by the sun, too. Exactly seven tiny freckles punctuate his golden farmer’s tan.

This morning is for running errands. HEB for groceries, maybe a stop at Ikea to see his friend, Maria, and check out what’s new or what’s in As-Is. These days it’s really too hot do much outside. If he were to get moving earlier, a run at Memorial Park might be in order, but not today. While not entirely in control of his time, he has a lot of freedom. His job is simply to be himself and he’s good at it. Unapologetically impulsive, his moods change in an instant and he wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s quick to tell you what he thinks but if something comes out wrong, you know that it’s without malice.

Getting dressed is hit or miss. Most of the time he is content to wear anything, with a penchant for the extreme casual. Today it’s his favorite cutoffs and his ‘vintage’ Star Wars t-shirt. His biggest decision will be footwear: Chuck Taylor low-tops, Keen sandals or his robot flip flops. After reminiscing about his long-gone brown low-tops, he settles for his sandals.

Heading out the door to the titanium silver BMW (Bimmer, he likes to call it) in the driveway, he grabs his red-flamed sunglasses to protect his Caribbean blue eyes. Eyes that, under those mirrored lenses, see everything that you don’t: a Fruity Cheerio lodged in the crease of his seat, a dog with a red leash, an orange backhoe loader at a construction site, a fast red bicycle. Eyes that gleam with mischievous humor when he tells his favorite joke. Eyes that turn flat and dark when he doesn’t get what he wants and reflect only unfocused calculation.

But today is easy going. He’s got everything he wants. He sings the Spanish alphabet under his breath and lets his fingers caress the yellow wildflowers growing haphazardly along the sidewalk. He pauses to pick up a piece of chalk and draw a circle on the concrete. After a little prompting, he discards the chalk, brushes the dust off on his shirt, reaches up to hold my hand and asks me, “What kind of nuts do you like, Mommy?” “Cashews,” I answer. “Bless you!” he retorts with mile-wide smile.

I was the lucky first to read mine in class and have it critiqued. I liked much of what was said, good and bad, and will work on revisions this week.

I don't know doesn't cut it anymore

2010-06-10T07:52:00.002-05:00

For last night's bedtime stories, Zane requested his Hannukkah counting book which has words in English, Hebrew and Yiddish. I usually just read the Yiddish words because they're the most fun. He really likes the page about Dreidels and has memorized the letters that are represented on each of the sides. For variety, I decided to read the Hebrew letters last night. I started with 'nun' and he immediately wanted to know what 'nun' means. How to explain that it's a letter in the Hebrew alphabet? Would he then want me to sing the Hebrew alphabet (can't)? I gave my standard "I don't know" with the clear 'let's move on' intonation while flipping the page and Zane retorted "You can look that up on the computer!"

So now I have to resort to "Go ask daddy."

(I thought it was so funny that I left his room to write down his quote. When I came back in to finish the story, he asked me if I had looked it up. I told him "no" and to remind me to look it up in the morning. He hasn't yet)

Pickle

2010-06-06T17:52:00.001-05:00

Zane: I want a pickle without daddy eating my pickle.

Freckles

2010-06-06T14:59:00.004-05:00

Since Zane was born, I've often wondered who's skin he has. Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Silence of the Lambs jokes aside, I wonder if he's inherited my incredibly difficult skin or John's incredibly easy skin. Clearly, he's inherited my good looks, although I do believe he's inherited John's nose (the original one). Of course, under that beautiful baby smooth skin, he's so much like John that it makes me giggle just thinking about it.

Over the past week or so I've noticed a few tiny little freckles popping up on his skin. They're teeny tiny little brown specks that I've tried to wipe off. He's got one on his left cheek (face, that is), four on his right arm (2 up and 2 down) and two on his right leg (over and under). He can point them out to you, too, but he won't sit still and let me get pictures.

Still, that doesn't answer the skin mystery, as both John and I have freckles (albeit very different ones).

Love. Them. To. Bits. Don't know why.

Personal Essay Writing- Class 1

2010-06-03T21:34:00.005-05:00

So, I'm taking a summer writing workshop. Personal Essay Writing. Tonight I had my first class and we were required to actually write something. Writing at the spur of the moment is hard for me, so I had a little anxiety about it. In addition, we had to read it to the class for critiquing. It turned out OK, though.

We were asked to interview one of our class mates and we were then, in turn, interviewed by someone else. We then took 15 minutes to write an essay based on our interview. Here's my essay...

Peter sits across from me, quietly checking messages on his phone. Who is he? By all appearances you might presume that he's a former frat boy - goatee, flip flops and cargo pants tell the story. Perhaps he just finished an early happy hour with some buds before heading off to his decidedly not "bro-ish" writing class.

In fact, I don't really know if Peter or "Petey" as his high school mates dubbed him, was even in a fraternity. Perhaps he had no time for such things while pursuing his chemical engineering degree (all the while dreaming of writing).

Had I not asked, I might never have guessed his home-state was New Jersey, but Houston does have a way of softening up any "foreign" accents. Love and money is what brought Peter down south, but it's not what's kept him here.

I noticed Peter's tattoo immediately, as he had intended. It's a squiggly black line encircling his left wrist. A permanent bracelet, like my grandmother's medic-alert bracelet that declares she's a diabetic and allergic to penicillin. I know that anyone who puts a tattoo in such a prominent place is making a declaration, so I ask him about it. "Do you want the real or the fake story?" he replies. I ask for the fake one first, knowing that he really wants to tell me the true story. He says it's his mother's heartbeat after her heart attack. Sweet. Now what's the real story?

It's an EKG of his former boyfriend's heartbeat. Apparently the ex has covered up Peter's EKG on his own wrist. Why hasn't Peter? Does he know that you can't ever really cover that love up - that you just have to move on?

There we go. I'm a really slow writer and tend to freeze up when someone says "OK - go!" I was really impressed with how many people in the class were able to write a complete essay in so little time. I didn't feel like mine was complete, as there was a lot more information about Peter that I wanted to present. That said, I felt good reading it and appreciated the critiques.

I'm very much looking forward to my next class and am already enjoying taking a class just for fun.

Target is no longer my easy out...

2010-05-20T15:10:00.004-05:00

Used to be if we needed something to do and I didn't feel like going to a playground, we (that is, Zane and I) could pop into Target and kill 45 minutes "pushing buttons." We'd often walk out with nary a dime spent (with the exception of an occasional bag of Goldfish or Frappuccino). Zane has apparently matured beyond that. Now, after pushing a few buttons, Zane asks "can we take this home?" or simply wraps his arms around whatever toy that he's taken a liking to (i.e. everything that he touches) and states "take this home." So, Target is no longer the easy way to kill a bit of time. Just in time for the too-hot-to-touch-playground days of summer. Great.

In addition, Zane has now entered the precursor to the "why" stage: the "what's that called?" stage. As in...

Zane: (pointing to my car stereo) What's that called?

Me: Radio

Zane: (pointing to my car stereo) What's that called?

Me: Button

Zane: (pointing to my car stereo) What's that called?

Me: Other button

Zane: (pointing to my car stereo) What's that called?

Me: Other button

Or...

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) What's that called?

Me: Plate

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) No. What's that called?

Me: Umm...crumb.

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) No. What's THAT called?

Me: Umm...bread crumb.

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) NO! What's THAT called?

Me: Ahh...green dinner plate with food crumbs on it.

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) No. What's THAT called?

Me: Crazing. (I know this because of my Hummel research and Antiques Roadshow)

Zane: (pointing to my dinner plate) No. What's THAT called?

Me: Do you want to watch Elmo?

To be fair, I have now entered the mom-stage of lying on the couch and saying "I'm just resting my eyes."

2010-05-15T08:22:00.001-05:00

"My booboo is almost starting to going away!"

2010-05-06T08:40:00.002-05:00

This morning Zane had some breakfast sausage links with ketchup on the side. He, of course, ate the sausage first and saved the ketchup for last.

Zane: (referring to the ketchup) This is delicious!

Zane: It's red?

Me: Yes, it is.

Zane: It's really kind of orange.

2010-04-26T21:43:00.001-05:00

Zane: (woke up after being asleep for 1/2 hour) Want my ball with the
ants in it.
Me: I had to throw it away because you bit it and popped it. It's in
the trash, remember?
Zane: (blank stare)
Zane: Want my blowfish.

3:45 am requests

2010-04-26T07:34:00.002-05:00

Zane occasionally wakes up in the wee hours of the morning in need of something. Here are a few of his repeated requests...

"Want me rat and me pig" - this referred to a little black rubber rat (from Halloween) and a little pink rubber pig (from a crane game on the way to Corpus) that he was attached to and insisted on sleeping with and inevitably dropped one or both while sleeping. We would have to dig through sheets and stuffed animals to find them. He left the pig in a grocery cart seat and no longer is attached to the right. He can also now say "my."

"Want Guinness." - a stuffed guinea pig from Ikea. This was usually right in front of him but he was too sleepy to notice.

"Want blueberries." - self explanatory. These days he knows that blueberries aren't in season and are, therefore, too expensive.

This morning he requested his new toy: "Want my ball with ants in it." This is, frankly, one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen. It's a squeeze ball filled with life-size bugs (roaches, ants, flies, etc) that are covered with some kind of oil that makes them wiggle when they squeeze out. Ugh. Not something I want to see at 3:45 in the morning. He loves it so much that keeps telling us that he wants to "go in there!"

Thanks Buchanan's Native Plants. I love your new toy kiosk in the gift shop.

2010-04-23T13:23:00.002-05:00

Today we decided to go to Buchanan's to look at flowers and fountains.

Zane: We'll drive down T.C. Jester, then turn on 11th St. then go a little ways and then Buchanan's will be right there!

Me: Uh...yep, that's right.

Jungle Love

2010-04-16T17:03:00.001-05:00

Today we went to the zoo. Zane loves the reptile house and we always
go there as soon as possible. Today, in addition to reptiles, we saw
some birds and bees.

Zane: That snake has poop coming out.

Me: Mmm-hmm.

2010-04-06T16:30:00.002-05:00

Zane: I have a tail? When I get a little bit older I'll have a tail.

Car Wash

2010-04-03T11:46:00.000-05:00

Zane is "helping" John wash my car. It might be time to break out the
pool.

2010-03-31T08:37:00.003-05:00

This morning's conversation while sitting on the couch right

after getting up:

Me: Zane, do you want some blueberries?

Zane: No. Mommy, go away.

Me: No.

Zane: Mommy, go to the kitchen.

Me: Uhhh, OK.

Spring is in the air!

2010-03-26T13:34:00.002-05:00

I'm fairly certain that I've witnessed a true spring at some other
time in my life. However, this is the first I've truelly appreciated.

I love the red bud trees, pear trees and azaleas all blooming at the
same time (and miss our red bud that got taken out by Ike). Our
snapdragons that were planted last fall have come back all on their
own. It's cool enough in the morning to wear boots and warm enough in
the afternoon to switch to flipflops. But not so hot that I have to
wear tank tops and shave my underarms.

There are mosquito hawks to entertain the cats, but no mosquitos to
keep us inside. And the pecan tree in the back yard hasn't leafed out
yet, so there's still plenty of sunshine!

2010-03-25T08:28:00.003-05:00

When my brother and I were really young, if we woke up in the middle of the night and needed parental help/comfort/entertainment, we always tried very hard NOT to wake up my mom. She was mean if we woke her up. You'd think this would be easy - just go to my dad's side of the bed, right? For some reason, my parents would occasionally switch sides without telling us kids. So we would tip-toe over to my dad's side of the bed (or so we thought) and stick our faces right up next to his and slightly breathe "daddy" to wake him, and him only. To our horror, THE BOOGIE MOMMY WOULD COME ALIVE!!!!!! We would, of course, have to appeal to her for whatever we needed at the time, but it would leave us shaking in bed in the wee hours of the mornings for weeks to come, wishing we could wake my dad, but very, very afraid. In fact, to this day, neither my brother nor I will voluntarily wake up my mom.

This morning at 4:00, Zane tip-toed (toddler-stomped) into our room and up to my side of the bed. He had a pair of socks and wanted to put them on (he can do this by himself, but apparently needed help at this time). After his request, I popped my head out of the covers and very sweetly said "ok - let me help you." He responded "NOOOOOOOO!!!!! W-w-w-w-w-want da-da-da-daddy!!!!!!!" to which I replied "all right, he's over there." I then rolled over and went back to sleep while John spent the next two hours trying to get Zane back to sleep.

Let me point out that we never switch sides of the bed and I am always instantly awake and very nice when Zane comes in. However, I think my mom had the right idea.

Dreams

2010-03-24T08:00:00.002-05:00

Two nights ago, Zane woke up at 1:00 am crying. When I went in there and asked what was wrong he said he wanted some water. I gave him some but he cried more and said he wanted it in his yellow cup with the animals on it (he usually calls this his Sigg bottle). I said I didn't know where it was and he said "it flew away." Then paused for a minute and said "it's on the playscape, really, really high up."

This morning he woke up whining and asking for me. When I went in to get him, he asked me to tickle him with a shovel. I asked him if I could just tickle him with my hands and that just caused more tears.

It's funny that he doesn't really understand that he's dreaming right now. At least, I hope he's just dreaming!