Delicious disease

Today I went to the eye doctor for my regular glaucoma screening -- ahhh, genetics.  When I was finished my appointment, I picked the boys up from camp.  "I thought you'd be here earlier," said Cameron.

"Oh," I replied, "remember?  I had to go to the eye doctor?"

"Oh yeah," piped up Matthew.  "So, do you have guacamola?"

Guacamola = a delicious Italian twist on a classic Mexican dip

Glaucoma = an insidious eye disease that slowly steals your vision.

I'll take the guacamola, please!

Incentives

Matthew's birthday is quickly approaching and he has been thinking BIG in terms of presents.  He has suggested that a moped would be a great gift for a 7-year-old.  I disagree.  He feels that seven is plenty old enough for his own cell phone.  I disagree.  He then proposed that a pet rabbit would be fun.  "Yes," I said, "a rabbit would be fun.  But I can't even get anybody to help take care of the aquarium snails.  So, who would take care of this rabbit?"

"ME!" shouted Matthew.  "Except the poop.  Cameron could take care of the poop.  But I would hold it and feed it carrots and take it for walks!"

At this point, Cameron broke in, "I'm not taking care of the poop.  And rabbits don't go on walks."

Matthew rolled his eyes at Cameron and replied, "Uhhh, they do if you show them the carrot!"

American

A friend of mine recently encouraged me to start blogging again and I was reminded of what a handy way this is to keep track of stories that I all too soon forget.  So, here goes.

The other day, Matthew was singing a song he learned at school.  "We are American, every DAY. Living the American, American WAY!"  he belted out.  Then he stopped and looked at me very seriously.  "I am American," he said.

"Yes," I agreed.  "You are."

"But not you," he said.  "I'm the only American in our family."

"What?" I replied.  "I'm American!  Matthew, our whole family is American!  We LIVE in America!"

"Uh, Mooommmm," Matthew said, "you're NOT black."

"Ohhhhhhhh, African American!  Matthew, you mean that I'm not African American."

"Oh.  Right," he said.  "I forgot that African part."

Vocabulary

The other day, another car cut me off as I was driving with the boys.  "What a jerk!" I fumed.

"What's a jerk?" asked Matthew from the back.

"Ohhhh," I said.  "Uh, I shouldn't have said that.  A 'jerk' means somebody who made a bad decision or did something that they shouldn't have.  But it really isn't a nice word.  I didn't like how that man was driving but I shouldn't have called him a jerk."


The next day, Matthew was sitting at the table when he said, "Man, I just peed my pants.  I feel like such a jerk."

Relations

A few days ago, Matthew asked if Uncle Zack had a mom.  "Yes," I answered a bit incredulously.  "Uncle Zack is my brother!  He has the same mom as me!" 

"Who's your mom?" Matthew responded.

"Grandma Linda!  Grandma Linda is my mom and Uncle Zack's mom and Aunt Stephanie's mom!"

"Oh.  Who was Uncle Zack's mom when he was little?"
"Grandma  Linda!  Who do you think your mom will be when you're a grown up?" I asked, thinking that this would finally get through and Matthew would realize, oh, OF COURSE, but . . .

Matthew looked at me completely seriously and said, "I have no idea."

No one or two

Cameron and Matthew's new school is really diverse which is really, really super awesome.  But also leads to discussions like this:

Me:  Matthew, who did you play with today?
Matthew:  Me here.
Me:  ???  Uh, who did you play with?
Matthew:  I SAID, me and Me Here played!  We played tag!
Me:  Your friend is named Me Here?
Matthew:  Yeah.  But Guy Three kept trying to play with us.
Me:  His name is Guy Three?
Matthew:  Nooooo!  Don't be ridiculous!  Guy Three is a GIRL!  And Guy Three always wants to play with me.  I'm like, "Geeezzz, Guy Three!  I just want to play with Me Here right now!"

Mouth guards and Multiplication

Matthew's aunt gave him twenty dollars for his birthday.  "I've always wanted money!" he cried.  Talk soon turned to what he could buy with twenty dollars and, as always, Matthew has pretty clear interests.  "Can I get a real hockey stick with twenty dollars?" he asked.

"No," I answered.

"Can I get a mouth guard?"  This has been Matthew's dream for about a year now.  A mouth guard. 

"I'm not sure how much a mouth guard costs," I told him.

"Get your computer!  Look it up!" he insisted.

A few keystrokes later, "Looks like a mouth guard is about ten dollars," I said.

"Oh NO!" Matthew moaned.  "I wish I had ten dollars!"

At this point Cameron broke in.  "Matthew.  You DO have ten dollars.  Twenty dollars is like ten dollars TWO times.  You have TWO ten dollars!"

Matthew's eyes widened and he dropped his voice, leaning in to Cameron.  "Hey.  You want me to buy you a mouth guard too?"

Cameron kindly suggested that Matthew could use the extra ten dollars to buy something else.  And now Matthew is the proud owner of his very own mouth guard and Froggy Rides a Bike by Jonathan London.

And yet upon closer inspection . . .

Today, Matthew noticed a man getting into a car parked next to us.  "Mom!  I just saw a guy who is blind!" he said.

"What?"  I looked around, thinking maybe he was talking about someone else.  Someone with a cane?  A seeing eye dog?

Matthew pointed as the man backed his car out of his parking space.  "See?  That guy!  He's blind!"

"Matthew, how do you know he is blind?" I asked.

"I can tell!  I can SEE that he's blind!"

"What do you see?"

"I can SEE that he has NO HAIR!  He's BLIND!"

Wish list

Matthew wants a baby sister.  He tells me nearly every day now and is unswayed by all obstacles.  HE would change the baby's diapers.  HE would hold the baby when she cries.  HE would put the baby to bed and THEN he'd put himself to bed.

This morning, Matthew told me he also wants a computer.  "Really?" I said  "What would you do with the computer?"

"Play games," he answered.

"Hmmm," I said, "a computer and a baby sister, huh?"

"Yep."

"If you only got to choose one," I asked out of sheer curiosity, "which would you choose?"

"A baby sister," he answered immediately.  "No, wait.  I changed my mind.  A football game for the Wii."

Call me King

It's been a rough, rough week.  Matthew has been sick all week long, and I am exhausted.  There's been a lot of laying on the cough and watching TV this week and, since it's Matthew, that has meant watching the same football games over and over.  We also broke out More than a Game, the documentary about LeBron James, just to mix it up a little.
One afternoon, Matthew said to me, "Mommy, you're just like LeBron James except you're a girl." 

It's true.  I get stopped on the streets all. the. time. with people asking for my autograph or complaining about how I betrayed Cleveland. 

Or twelve

As we drove to school the other day, Matthew asked, "How old will I be when I drive a car?"

"Sixteen," I said.

"Oh my GOSH," he bellowed, "that's in like FIVE HUNDRED YEARS!"

Names

Yeesh, has it really been TEN days since I posted?  Sorry, Mom.

So, the other day Matthew and I stopped at Panera.  As I balanced my tray and carried Matthew's lunch box and held our two cups -- what, do I have four hands? -- Matthew dashed ahead of me, darting through the crowd at knee-height and below tray level.  "Matthew!" I called as he cut in front of a woman, "Matthew!  Stop!  People can't see you!"  Then I glanced at the woman, ready to apologize.  "Linda!"  It was my friend Linda, from writing circle!  "Matthew!  Come here, I want you to meet my friend!  This is Linda!" 

Linda and I chatted briefly and then Matthew and I found a table outside.  As we were finishing our lunches, Matthew said, "Where's grandma?"

"Michigan," I answered.

"Noooooo, where's GRANDMA?" he persisted.

Both of Matthew's grandmas, Grandma Linda and Grandma T, live in Michigan.  But there is also great-grandma, who lives in Florida.  "Great-grandma?" I said, "She is in Florida."

Matthew was now visibly agitated.  He pointed to the door and said, "NO.  WHERE . . . IS . . . GRANDMA?"

And suddenly, I understood.  Grandma Linda.  My friend Linda.  "Do you mean LINDA?" I asked.

"Yes," he sighed with relief.  "Linda.  That's right.  Linda.  Not Grandma."

Normalization

Today, Matthew's teacher told me in private that he was not particularly focused this morning and that she had asked him multiple times to choose a work.  After about the fourth time, he responded with a gruff, "I KNOW, that's WHAT I'm DOING!"  This is okay -- he is in a Montessori classroom, it's his first year, it's understood.

I didn't discuss it with him. 

Later in the day, I heard this conversation between David and Matthew:

David: What work did you do at school today, Matthew?
Matthew: Eh, I mostly just wandered around and didn't do any work.
David: You . . . wandered around?
Matthew: Yeah. Well, most of the time. Most of the time I just wandered around and stuff. But I did do one work!
David: What work did you do?
Matthew: It is something called "challenging work."

McLovin

Today, I was driving along, listening to NPR while Matthew sat in the backseat playing with an Etch-a-Sketch.  I didn't realize Matthew was also listening to the radio until the interviewee said of his teenage years, "Oh, I was completely inept.  I didn't know anything about women."

From the back I heard Matthew's gravelly little voice, "He didn't know ANYTHING about women?  I know about women.  I KNOW about women."  And then he began to sing a little tune, "I know women, I know women, I know women."

Questions and Answers

The start of the school year is approaching and that means that Matthew and I are doing a lot of rehearsing.  There are lots of questions that Matthew needs to be ready to answer that most kids don't, and we want him to be prepared.  Here's how this morning went:

Me:  Matthew, what would you say if your friend said, 'Do you want to try my cookies?'"
Matthew:  No. 

Me:  Why not?
Matthew:  Because I have food allergies.

Me:  What if you accidentally ate something you shouldn't and you were getting bumps?
Matthew:  Tell the teacher!  Tell the teacher I need my Benadryl!

Me:  What if someone says, "That can't be your mommy, she doesn't look like you!"
Matthew:  Don't have to look alike to be a family.  Love makes a family.

At this point, I'm feeling pretty good.

Me:  What if they say, "But WHY don't you look like your mommy?"
Matthew:  Well . . . because some people are from Chicago!  And some people grow in another mommy that makes them different!

Note that Matthew is not from Chicago.  We'll be working on this answer!

Mixed Feelings about Missouri

"So, I have really mixed feelings about magic sometimes," said Cameron.  "Like, I know that Harry Potter and wands and wizards aren't real.  But then sometimes I think about things like leprechauns and tooth fairies and I have really, really mixed feelings.  Like, on one hand, it seems like it's not real.  But then on the other hand, I think, 'Could it be?  Does that make sense?  Maybe it could be?'  Like stuff like Santa Claus, also known as Saint Nicholas."

"Right," agreed Matthew.  "Like Saint Louis."

AKA

Just got home from a very long vacation!  One short story as I unpack . . .

Matthew recently took a few golf lessons (which he loved) and the teacher repeatedly called him "Matt."  We have never, ever, never called Matthew "Matt," so he had no idea the teacher was talking to him!  When I later explained that this is a nickname for his name, it led to a discussion of people's nicknames.  "Daddy's name is David, but some people call him Dave," I said.  "Cameron, I call you 'Cam' sometimes.  Do you like that nickname?"

"Hmmm,"  replied Cameron, "I like when you call me Cam but not when other people do.  What's your nickname Mom?"

"I don't have a nickname," I answered.

"Yes, you do!" piped up Matthew.

"I do?" I said.  "What my nickname?"

"Sharon!"

Not My Thing

Things my 3-year-old said to me while playing baseball in the front yard this morning:

"No, no, no, no, no!  You've got to CHARGE a pop-fly!  Get right under it!"
"Bad pitch.  Watch me.  Look, step, throw.  Got it?"
"You should have dived for the base."
"What do you mean you don't know how to throw a curve ball?!?!"
"I have a feeling I'm gonna win."

Duh

Matthew:  You know why my laugh sounds different from Cameron's?
Me:  Why?
Matthew:  Because I'm a different person.

Just in time for swimsuit season

Kids have this super special way of noticing little (or not so little) details.  Like a few minutes ago, when Matthew said to me, "Mommy, why does your booty smush the couch down flat?"