Rock Star Baby

Noah is a fount of delight.

Words bubble out of him that make me chuckle for days on end.

For example, one morning I came down wearing bright coral pants (and a black blazer) and he exclaimed "Mommy! I like your pants! You look like a rock star!"

We are not a household of rock-related influences so his word choice was hilariously special.

Noah imitates his idea of a rock star, one of his professed future career options

But that's Noah. He often comments on my wardrobe in a way you'd expect of a 20 year old girlfriend, not a 4 year old preschooler. Often if I wear a new shirt he'll say - I like your shirt mommy!

Groupie Fact #1: being kissed by a rockstar makes YOU feel like a rockstar.

If I wear a dress on an odd occasion he'll say - you look beautiful mommy!

And because he is my no-filter, non-consequence-thinking, impulsive kid, I take everything he says at face value - and it truly makes me feel like a beautiful princess rock star.

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Noah is also in a phase where he likes to tell me he farted. But he does it in the most charming of ways.

The other week he farted just as he snapped in the last piece of a puzzle and said, "Mommy, I finished the puzzle and my butt said 'good job!'"

Noah (and his butt) gives thumbs up!

Judah and I had a good laugh over that. Now whenever we fart we say our butt is applauding us.

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Another endearing trait of Noah's is his random questions. He will sit quietly in the car for 7-8 minutes, pondering life, and then his little voice pipes up, Mommy, what do BART police do?

Noah, puzzler of life, and ball mazes.

Or, Mommy, what's more expensive, a house or a car, or a house-car?

Or, Mommy, what's your favorite kind of door?

Door?! Did you say door? As in, open the door to get inside the house?

Yeah, like do you like wood doors, or glass doors, or red doors?

Uh....glass, I guess, I like glass...

And you, Noah, I like you. I really, really, really like you.

Sweet and Surly

Last week we went to a book fair and the kids instantly picked out what they wanted with zero hesitation.

Judah asked for a book that came with a pink bunny charm bracelet. (And cited the bunny charm as the main reason he wanted this book).

And Noah enthusiastically grabbed a book about villains that looks down right satanic. Seriously, every picture in this book looks like pure evil.

And that is now how I explain to people, in under 30 seconds, how different my kids are from each other.

Logical Larry

I'm starting to realize what a tight little logical mind Noah possesses. It's fascinating to me to watch my kid's inner mind unfold - one of the best things about parenting: figuring out who the heck they are and how they think.

Noah, much more than Judah, loves categories and distinctions. I caught a glimpse of this last year when he pronounced in a musing tone - Mommy, mommy...your penis is a vagina...but...our butts are the same!

It was a revelation to him.

Logical Larry in an outfit that defies logic

A delightful categorization of unmentionable parts - the stuff we hide behind undies and the distinction between genders. What is different? What is the same? I considered blowing his mind right then and there by telling him that males and females actually have the same kind of genital tissue, but at the fetus stage, various hormones cause the tissue to develop into a vagina or penis...but women technically have "under-developed" penises and some people are hermaphrodites.

But then I remembered he was 3...so I'll save it.

Last week, Noah revealed more of his love of logic in the car, this time on the topic of ciphers. He randomly asked me - Mommy, what is A + B?

This is a guy who has been doing simple arithmetic with numbers for over a year now so I know he was trying to extend that logic to a new category.

I answered..."AB"? "A, B"? Not wanting to guess the obvious punchline - C, so as not to steal his thunder.

He answered reliably - No, it's 'C', Mommy!

Oh! I said, pretending to be amused and surprised.

Yeah, he said, because A = 1 and B = 2 and C = 3.

Okay, I thought, he has a mind for ciphers. Which is amusing because never in his life did we ever talk about or play any games relating to ciphers.

And then, much to my further amusement, he went on - Mommy, what is C + D?

I thought, hmmm...I wonder if he's going to say the cop out answer - E? Would he just be lazily sequential instead of doing the hard work of logical consistency?

I don't know, Noah, I said, waiting for him to answer.

He paused for a good long minute and mumbled and finger counted and finally shouted out - G!

Why yes, my boy! My logical, cipher-loving, math-pondering boy!

And just to show me how he did it, he explained - Because C = 3 and D = 4 and 3+4 = 7 and G = 7!

And I thought, yes, my son. MY son. I have always loved logic and found the application of it to be wonderfully cleansing, something akin to that clean squeaky feeling you get when the dentist blasts each tooth with a water pick and scrapes all the plaque off your gums.

And then today, driving in the car, Noah's logical mind made me want to stick a screwdriver in my eye. He kept asking me, again and again, to explain the strange phenomenon he witnessed over the weekend.

We had attended a kid's musical of Willy Wonka and Noah was perplexed by the girl in the violet fat suit who was blown up with an air pump. She was not the same girl who played the "normal" Violet Beauregard, as the costume change was too quick.

Again and again, Noah pondered how she got so big, so round, and slightly taller in one second...on and on his questioning went for what seemed like an eternity to me.

Logic, a double-edged sword.

Spring Has Sprung - Again!

I realize every year I have one blog post in the middle of April that acknowledges the coming of another Spring. So here it is.

For me, the main signs of Spring are the stuff my kids produce at school.

Noah's awesome preschool (that I love times a million) made this helpful display to announce the season. Big props to a pre-K for making me literally laugh out loud (LLOL, yes, I'm still trying to make it a 'thing') with the craft of Noah's face as a boy fairy. Kill me now. Just kill me with cuteness.

And, as if that wasn't awesome enough, his preschool has little Spring animals. They had catepillars in a cup (which turned into butterflies) and these sweet little baby chicks.

Y'all, I held a baby chick two weeks ago. My first time ever. Life just never stops getting better. Remember that young people. Life just keeps getting better. Because baby animals.

Judah's school kindly reminds me of Spring every year with his Spring portrait. And also reminds me how cheap I am as I take another picture of picture.

But man, I almost caved this year. Looking at this sweet face of the boy I love so so so much. How could I resist?!?! The marketing print even asked me - "How can you resist this smile?" I can't! I can't!

I was *this* close. I'm pretty sure next year I'm going to cave.

Spring is an amazing time to do our nature walks. This picture was taken when Judah and I explored a brand new trail just minutes from our house on one of our "just us" dates. I'll never forget how bursting at the seams happy Judah was during this walk.

He was literally bounding up and down the trails like a puppy wagging his tail. Talking happy nonsense, bouncing, smiling, filled with sweetness. And all around us, the vibrant green of new life shouting 'joy!' in living color.

I need to make that experience into a candle somehow...

Easter weekend was insanely busy but awesome. One highlight was the kids earning their first stripe on their jiu-jitsu belts. The ceremony consisted of them sitting for 90 minutes, completely still and quiet while each kid was called up for a promotion.

I am still AMAZED that my 4 year old did that. There is some magical obedience voodoo going on here. I must investigate further and figure out how to harness that to my advantage.

On Easter Sunday the kids took an obligatory picture and then quickly lapsed back into their "normal" weird looking selves.

And as if getting a bunch of goodies and candies from Easter wasn't good enough, we topped of the day with a fabulous birthday party by a mom who went all out with the incredibly cute and well-designed decorations. Pinterest needs to hire this mom, seriously.

There is nothing easy about motherhood. Nothing. BUT, it does absolutely keep getting better.

And sweeter.

Don't Bump the Glump and Other Tales

The days keep rolling by like someone flipping an old-fashioned animation sketchbook - fast and then faster.

And I now have a bunch of photos of the kids and memories that need memorializing. So here goes...

During the insanely frequent rainy days this Winter (seriously California hasn't had this much rain for my entire lifetime of living here!) the kids often made their own indoor fun. One of their favorite pastimes by far was and still is using giant shipping boxes to create nooks.

I love this picture because it reminds me how excited Judah was to draw different scenes for Noah's box nook. One of them was of a zombie graveyard and the other of an underwater world.

Judah is never happier than when he's doing something creative for Noah. His joy is the joy he anticipates Noah will feel. It is pretty much the highlight of motherhood...until, that is, Noah looks at Judah's handiwork and responds with a tepid "meh".

Then Judah's feelings get hurt and crying and gnashing of teeth begins.

This is another creation of Judah's. Noah is "Wolfman" because he loves wolves, because he loves Wolverine (because there is no reason as we have NEVER bought any wolverine toys or watched any wolverine shows, so this kid is a real mystery to me).

Judah drew a head band, chest symbol, and utility belt, and on the back of the cape is another giant wolf symbol. Noah was only mildly appreciative, but still put it on for good sport. Phew.

Since the rain was so frequent, I tried frantically to get outdoors with the kids whenever there was a tiny break in the downpour. March marks the time of year I get panicked about my long lazy winter of eating lots of carbs and LOTS of butter and moving very little.

Thankfully boys are like dogs, you HAVE to take them outside every day or else they will chew up all your furniture and pee all over the floor.

Judah has fully graduated to the "big kid" bike. He never had training wheels as we started him out on a balance bike when he was 3. Noah on the other hand has no idea how to balance and he's already 4.

Like many siblings, the first one gets gold-star treatment and the second (or third or fourth...) gets shafted. Sorry Noah, maybe you'll figure out how to ride a bike by the time you're 10.

The boys have been doing Jiu-Jitsu since January. This is literally an answered prayer for Judah who has been begging me (and God) to give him martial arts lessons for the last two years.

I just never wanted to sit around with my fussy second kid while waiting for the first kid's lesson to end. Now that they're both old enough to participate together, I'm all in.

Judah is LOVING it. This kid loves to compete and is focused like a laser on everything the coach says.

Noah on the other hand, simply endures and is only doing this cuz he hero-worships Judah. Every time class is about to end, Noah skips to the end-line and sings "Yay! This is my favorite part! Class is over!"

Noah continues to be my wonderful weirdo. He is constantly changing outfits throughout the day for no particular reason. Here he's wearing his favorite things - his favorite hat, his favorite cardigan, and shorts - he loves shorts.

Once, last month, he went to church in a full ninja Halloween costume (2 sizes too small from Old Navy). He had normal clothes underneath. It was...a battle I was just too tired to fight. Ninja: 1, me: 0.

Kids are awesome because they make you do constructive things you might have otherwise given up on. Noah wanted desperately to grow some veggies in our garden, but I had given up.

Two years ago, I tried but badly hurt my foot with the shovel. One year ago, I tried again, but broke my arm in early Spring and couldn't shovel.

This year, I just didn't try...even though deep down I wished I would. Enter: Noah and his motivating enthusiasm for growing veggies, thanks to his awesome preschool.

On a whim and a random Saturday, we went to a hardware store and bought a cucumber plant, a tomato plant, a watermelon plant, and some strawberry plants. And thus came into being our humble patch:

Within a week, the watermelon plant was completely devoured by a stray cat.

We'll see if any of this comes into fruition (hahaha, see what I did there?). I have a notorious history of killing plants of all kinds - indoors, outdoors, succulents, flowers, sigh.

Just call me Mrs. Blackthumb.

Two Buck Chuck

Way back in January, we celebrated Noah's birthday with his much desired and anticipated wish - a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.

Chuck E. Cheese is such a weird land of distortion - heavenly crack for kids and sticky hell for adults. There's nothing really objectionable about it...it's just...sad.

It wreaks of all that is pathetic in entertainment - garish lights, empty rewards, acquisitive greed...very bad food.

But my kids would never know their parents' disdain. To them it was a mecca of F-U-N!!!!!!! Their eyes lit up like stars, their faces had giant grins, they devoured the soggy pizza and declared it delicious.

And the games. They played those rigged games and collected those worthless tickets as if it were gold pieces coming out of those slots.

Incidentally, this was the only time during Noah's birthday day that he wasn't melting down and crying every 3 minutes. Previous to this, anytime I asked him to do something he didn't want to (for example, brush his teeth, visit the potty, eat something that wasn't a candy bar, put on clothing, etc.) he would wail "But it's my birthday!!!! You're making me do this on my birthday?!?! You're making me SAD on my birthday!!!!!"

It was a LONG. Day.

But as soon as we entered the land of Cheese, Noah was all smiles from beginning to end.

The next day the kids talked of nothing but returning to that magical world of delight.

And that's just fine with me. I'm all about keeping their expectations low so they don't become jaded too early in life. Better to keep them thinking that Chuck E. Cheese is the pinnacle of entertainment for as long as possible so when we finally go to Disneyland one day, their minds will be blown to smithereens.

Chuck, you're a good stand-in for your uppity mouse cousin, Mickey.

My Life with Mr. Awesome

"Hi Mom, I'm Mr. Awesome,"
he casually announces as he saunters into the kitchen shirtless with some Paw Patrol stickers and a Batman tattoo on his chest - just like the real Batman, he says.

His older brother added his walk-a-thon medal to enhance the look - a nice touch indeed.

Mr. Awesome, duh

This is the kind of ridiculous charm that knocks me off my socks at random times on any given day and punches through my otherwise gloomy disposition like a jolt of pure joy.

Six years into this whole "motherhood" thing, and I'm finally realizing that most of my constant grumpiness is due to the fact that I am, for the most part, constantly performing menial tasks. One might say I feel like a house servant, but that would not be totally accurate - servants are paid. And they get some days off.

The master of the house drives a Ferrari. I only get to push it from behind.

And so I roll the boulder up the hill, and watch it inch down inevitably with each passing minute as crumbs are sprinkled liberally and dishes and cups are used for eating and "experiments!" and clothing is pulled off and on, just for fun, and LEGOS are sewn on every square inch of carpet as if by a farmer in hopes of a generous harvest.

And it is finally dawning on me how much I hate getting down on my hands and knees and foot-washing, figuratively and literally. But between my groaning and sighs, I sometimes...fleetingly...glimpse the grace in it.

Love, Faking

Random thoughts I think I'd like to remember someday...

1. Judah's love is cheap. Judah tells me all day every day that he loves me. It started when he could speak that full sentence when he was a toddler and now that he's six, he still says it quite often. He especially says it when he senses that I'm getting grumpy, as he thinks that will bring me back to a happy state.

I've always known Judah loves easily, but I was reminded again last week when he started talking to our Amazon Alexa device. He asked for some jokes. He asked for Dark Horse by Katy Perry and Shake it Off by Taylor Swift. And then he said, I love you Alexa.

And Alexa replied, Thanks, it's good to be appreciated.

2. When Noah is happy he talks a lot. Usually that's in the car when I'm driving home after picking him up from preschool. My hearing is not so good, his voice is rather soft and babyish, and there are lots of ambient noises from the road, so I only end up hearing about 60% of what he says.

Noah gets upset if I don't engage by responding as an active listener so I've perfected the art of feigning understanding what someone says while not at all understanding what they've said. It sounds like this:

Uh-huh...oh yeah?
Oh, that's what you did...
Oh, I see!
And then he did that...
Oh, like that!
Right, oh, yeah, I like that too...

A giant metaphor of motherhood for me - fake it til you make it...home.

3. And lastly, Noah spelled this out on his letter board as part of my 4 year parent-child review. So far my performance has been...medium. And now I'm thinking, if I ever care enough about my blog to update its look, I would definitely rename it - Medium Mom. Thanks Noah!

The hardest boss/client I have ever had to work for.

The thoughts that Noah elicit...

It's 6:30 am and I should not be sitting here writing.

I should be getting ready for the day and packing lunches and wrapping birthday gifts for Noah. The kids will be up soon and then it's a mad-dash to make it to school on time and then the entire day will unfold like a 10K race for time.

But my totally unorganized and rambling thoughts about Noah compel me to write.

He is a mystery to me. A lovely mystery...and often a monstrous mystery.

A boy on his long-awaited birthday - a real big kid now.

Judah is my inner child. Everything he does and says and the tears behind his eyes reflect everything I have always felt in my own heart. There is no mystery there - only deep, deep understanding.

But Noah is unlike me, utterly.

Lately he has been responding to my unwanted requests and commands with - Why does it always have to be YOUR way?! It shouldn't always be YOUR way! You always get YOUR way!!!

Already he is thoroughly proficient at challenging my authority.

And every single time I cross his will (which is like 103 times a day) he responds vindictively with - When I grow up, there will be no grandmas allowed in my house! (Because he assumes I will be a grandmother).

And yet, his childish faith cuts me to my cynical core. Shames me for my hypocrisy. Exposes too much of my unbelief.

Today is his 4th birthday and he said he's glad to turn one year older - so I'm closer to being a grandpa. And then I'll die. And then I'll be in God's new world!

Noah often says - Let's talk about God's new world! - and answers almost every future looking question with - I want to go to God's new world.

And he asks me about his body v. his soul. And about the robbers that died on each side of Christ. And he marvels that almighty God could be incarnate as the least of these. And he makes me say things that sound ridiculous to my modern, culturally-assimilated ears.

Things I'm embarrassed to say in polite liberal company.

And then make me embarrassed by my embarrassment.

Which keeps me in the only good and safe posture I know - repentance.

How do you solve a problem like Noah?

Noah is my problem child.

Okay, so this photo is totally staged, but it gets my point across pretty effectively.

In absolute terms, I guess Noah is just your average naughty kid, but in comparison with his older brother, Noah is like the devil.

Sure Judah was a colicky fussy baby, but ever since he turned 3.5 he magically morphed into an angel child. All the opposition and annoying whining truly was just a toddler phase that he grew out of. And even when he was in the midst of the terrible two's his meltdowns were pretty minor.

I would have never appreciated how easy-going and truly eager to please Judah is without the foil of his devil brother. Judah, in his heart of hearts, in the very core of who he is, truly just wants to be a good person and for everyone to be happy. He is goodness personified, people-pleasing to a fault, and the epitome of cooperation. Which is not to say he doesn't have his own moral flaws - he absolutely does - but none of them make me tense up in stress and pull my hair out in frustration by 9:30 AM.

Noah on the other hand...

Noah will turn 4 in January and it is abundantly clear that his annoying whining and opposition is not going away. This isn't a phase, it's just him.

He behaves so disobediently it even makes Judah suck in his breath with disbelief and awe. Almost as soon as I issue a command - Noah don't stand up on your chair - he has to do the exact opposite.

To gently correct him - Noah, don't color on your brother's homework - is to invite him to hurl verbal and emotional abuse upon you - You're so mean mommy! You make me sad! I'm going to be sad forever! You can't come in my room anymore! You can't come to my birthday party! You're the meanest mom ever! And the comment he thinks will hurt me the most - No more hugs and kisses for you!!!

Once I told him that we were out of the granola bars he wanted and he had these colorful remarks to say - I'm so mad at you mommy! I'm going to cut your head off! I'm going to get the big scissors, the one you keep in the special drawer that we're not supposed to play with - the big scissors - not the little ones that you let us use. And I'm going to hold them the safe way, by the handle, not by the sharp part, the safe way like daddy showed us. And cut your head off with the sharp part!

It was not unlike how a serial murderer might meticulously plot to skin his victims and sew a coat with them...

But on a brighter note, I'm so glad he listens when we talk to him about safely handling sharp objects!

But beyond his hair trigger anger, he also delights in dirty jokes. Judah never cared for 'potty-mouth' language but Noah lets it rip all the time and soon the two of them descend into the most annoying silliness. It's literally just them repeating to each other words like:

Poopy-lon hahahahahahahaha
Buttcheek hahahahahahahahaha
Poopy baby hahahahahahaha
Boobs hahahahahahaha
literally, ad nauseum (my nauseum)

Noah begged me to take a picture of this in RiteAid

Noah even goes as far as drawing boobs and butts all over the place. They both look like two tangential circles, but you know it's a butt if it has a dribble of poop coming out of the middle. He once painted some giant ones on his art easel and told me to hang it up in the house. I politely declined.

So last night, as we were snuggling before bedtime, I decided to have a heart-to-heart talk with him about his rampant disobedience.

Noah, you make Mommy so sad when you disobey me. You need to work on obeying your parents.

Noah burst into tears and instantly accused us of not loving him and rejecting him and even said that we think his name is stupid (we've often said that it's a common name, unlike his brother's more rare name). All his insecurities gushed out in a flood of angry fear.

I tried to reassure him that we love him unconditionally and that we all have areas that need work. And again it amazed me how non-intuitive grace and unconditional acceptance really is.

This morning on our drive to preschool, Noah told me how he really does want to obey us more. He wanted it so much that he prayed about it on the spot:

Dear God, Please help me obey my parents. And when they tell me 'no' help me to accept it. In Jesus name, Amen.

If ever there was a prayer that was heard, I hope it was that.

Indeed, it is the very baby-step, tiny seed evidence of it.

His Voice

As a mom, I've learned to live in two distinct time zones at all times - the present, and the faraway future.

In the land of faraway future, I view everything my kids are doing through a lens of being an old lady squinting at photographs, reminiscing about what they used to do. And feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest with longing.

One day I'll look back on this picture and bawl my eyes out.

I know this feeling because I already do it with pictures of baby Judah. Six years ago I held this colicky, fussy infant in my arms and cursed the heavens often. But when I look back on those pictures, I'm filled with wistfulness...though I definitely wouldn't choose to go back in time.

So because of this double-vision living, I already know that one of things I'll miss the most, is Noah's voice.

I really can't explain the allure of it. But even Judah will sometimes stop in the middle of conversation and exclaim, "Noah, I just love the way you say that word! It's so cute. Say it again."

Noah's voice is intoxicating because he talks with the grammar and vocabulary of a much older child but in the babyish voice of a much younger child. Often strangers can not make out what he's saying at all, so gibberish sounding is his little voice.

But what makes it even more delicious, is the weird and wonderful content of his speech. Some of my favorites:

To express that something is exactly the same (like I gave him and Judah the exact same amount and color of M&M's because I'm totally pwned like that) he'll sing-say:
Same, same
Double same!

He likes to spell out words so he often calls me:
Em-oh-em!
And I have to respond to him with:
Double U-Aych-Ay-Tee, En-Oh-Ay-Aych?

I also love when he adds a "second verse" to songs. For example, he likes the "bad boys" song that he picked up from Judah - Bad boys, bad boys, watcha gonna do when they come for you?

His new verse goes - Good girls, good girls, watch gonna do when you go to church?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Pastor's kid.

And then there's just delightful displays of the wonderful and weird logic of a child, like when he mused to himself in the middle of washing his hands one day, in a pensive voice:
Mommy, mommy, your penis is a vagina...
But our butts are the same!

Hmmmm...indeed they are, my love.

Not sure if I'll be cherishing that thought for years to come.

Life, hurtling toward the end

Every year around this time I realize I've entered the outer limits of a vortex of crazy.

With Thanksgiving right around the corner (shockingly near actually), I start to panic about the 2.5 weeks of vacation my kids will both be having from school over Christmas. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?! I'M SO SCREWED!

And then there's all the end of year stuff that needs to get done - gift buying, party attending, party planning and throwing, decorating, Christmas card sending, calendar making, etc. etc. etc.

Actually, the panic starts to set in around Halloween, which came and went so quickly I forgot to blog about it.

So from here until 2017, I'm pretty sure every post will just be like this - photo dump with longish captions!

(1) Noah in front of his preschool. This school has saved my life. So much better than the nightmare place he was at last year (that changed his teacher FOUR TIMES in the course of 9 months).

(2) Oh how I love when my kids bring home holiday-themed art and crafts. Except for that ugly troll mask Noah insisted I put up along with the other tasteful items. I really can't be blamed for any decor decisions whilst having kids.

(3) The witch, black panther, and Chris Kratt turned into a cheetah with creature power. I know, nobody who didn't have boys ages 4-7 understood what their costumes were.

(4) On our way to Judah's school Halloween festival. It was a loooooong-weekend of candy/cavities!

(5) Randomly, Judah pet this homeless man's bunny at the food kitchen, touched his eyes, and freaked out when his eyes swelled shut to the size of golf balls. Wow, crazy allergic reaction. That was a first.

(6) Most of our weekends look like this: errands and the kids hanging out. I call this composition: Trader Bros. They always wait for me like this while I get rung up. Every so often, this is where I realize I forgot my wallet at home and curse the heavens. Mom brain.

They're really into drawing and coloring lately and as always, play really well together. They have moments of squabbling of course, but by in large, they entertain each other (and leave me blessedly alone).

During this particular art session, I overheard Judah saying to himself, a la Bob Ross (my favorite TV show personality and person to which my kids have been subjected to for hours and hours), Now I'm going to put a happy little mountain here...

And I thought, it just doesn't get any better than this.

Small, Grey, and Bright-eyed

Small, grey and bright-eyed.

Small, grey and bright-eyed, he repeated on the drive home from preschool.

Mommy, what does bright-eyed mean?

Uh...it means like happy and healthy.

Oh. You are big, peach and bright-eyed Mommy.

Uh...thanks Noah.

Another day, another flower from Noah to tuck behind my ear.

And you my love, are the reason why I am bright-eyed much of the time. Noah, for all his fussiness and inflexibility is still ridiculously delicious and charming to me.

He is a master of communication (as demonstrated above for his love of new words and phrases) and I often find myself adopting his own made-up conventions. In particular, he invented a way to express EXTREME approval - the Four Thumbs Up - in which you give two thumbs up twice.

Simple and effective, no?

I also often adopt his thumb-to-the-side convention to signify moderate approval. As in, Noah, do you like the new noodles I cooked for you?

I like it [side-thumb] medium, Mommy.

And it isn't just me. On the rare occasions Judah and I are alone, Judah often asks me - Mommy, tell me what Noah says. I want to hear more about him. What does he tell you?

Such is the ridiculous delight that issues forth from Noah's little mouth.

Aside from his creative expressions, he also delights me daily with flowers. Practically every day Noah will grab a dandelion or daisy off some green field and present it to me as a token of his love. Some days I have giant handfuls. Other days I have bright fuschia blooms from a neighbor's prized bush - sorry neighbors!

It never fails to remind me of his older brother, who used to do the exact same thing, but hasn't done it for over a year.

Six year olds are just not as obsessed with their mothers as 3 year olds, alas. When I get home from an outing Judah barely lifts his head in acknowledgement whereas Noah will stop, drop and barrel down the stairs to me, giggling and chortling the whole way.

Oh how quickly the window closes for me to feel like a rock star to my kids.

And so, with a relish that I didn't have with Judah, I embrace his fierce embrace. I know how precious and truly short-lived it is now.

And how it will never, ever, ever be quite like this again.

The Reign of King Noah

Recently, Noah's been obsessed with being a king.

It started a few weeks ago when I mentioned that kings have a lot of treasure and instantly something clicked inside him. Now he often tells me he wants to be a king when he grows up and will elaborate in great detail:

When I'm king, I'll sleep in a...giant king bed.
And in the day time I'll sit in a...king chair.
Everything will be soft and cushiony, my king bed, my king chair, and even the floor and ceiling of my palace.

You can bring me green jewels.
And Judah can bring me silver jewels.
And daddy can bring me gold jewels.

And I'm going to be a good king.
I'll keep some money for myself.
And I'll give a little bit to the children.
And I'll give a little bit to the poor - small jewels, not my silver and gold ones.

And there you have, the benevolent reign of Noah.

But in reality, being with Noah is more like being under a reign of terror.

Noah on his king bed - well, actually my king bed - contemplating a cushy life

Noah has entered a very inflexible and grumpy phase of his life. Everything displeases him and his displeasure lasts for hours.

Just yesterday he dropped a sticker in the toilet while he was pooping and insisted that I get it back for him. When I explained that it was soiled and that I would absolutely not get it back for him, he exploded in rage.

A few days before that, he asked me to hand him his breakfast bar. I opened the wrapper and handed it to him and he immediately melted down in rage. No! No! No! I didn't want you to open the wrapper!!!!! he screamed while I stood there annoyed and perplexed.

But don't you want to eat it? I asked.

No! I wanted to just hold it! And NOW I want to eat.

Okay, well just eat it now.

No! You opened the wrapper too soon!!!!!!

Somehow that extra 30 seconds of exposure to the elements rendered that bar unfit to eat for King Noah. Noah promptly asked me for a new one. In horror, I realized that that was the last bar in the box and told him so.

For the next 5 hours, I kid you not, Noah repeatedly demanded that I go to the store and buy him a new box of the exact same kind of breakfast bar, refusing any substitute food. The kid would NOT let it go.

When Noah kvetches about something, which he does many times a day, he has a standard script that goes something like this:

I'm sad Mommy. I'm going to be sad forever. Even in God's new world, I'll still be sad. My whole day is sad. (repeat on endless loop).

And so, when I found myself near a drugstore later that day, I popped in with Noah to buy him his stupid breakfast bar. Of course the little 'good parenting' voice inside my head was telling me - don't do this! You're giving into bad behavior! You're reinforcing that whining works! You're creating a monster!

But all the other parts of my brain were saying - oh good grief! LET IT JUST END!!!!!

And so I bought him his bar. He asked for me to hand it to him. I gingerly handed it over like a live grenade - WITH the wrapper still intact.

He asked me to open the wrapper for him.

I double-checked and confirmed that indeed - you want me to open the wrapper for you? Right now? Or later?

Right now, he said.

And even then, I tensed my shoulders and sucked in my breath post-traumatically as I tore open the wrapper.

He smiled and reached for the bar and ate a few bites.

And I lived to serve another day.

Curious Guy and Shy Guy

It's update time!

Noah

Noah is really into asking about my favorites. Not like as a followup to me first asking him about his favorites - just as a random opening conversation question. It's weird to me because Judah never once asked me what my favorite anything is. Judah is definitely more passive and Noah more active when it comes to finding out about the world.

Every day Noah asks things like:

Mommy, what's your favorite color?
Coral
What's your second favorite color?
Sky Blue
What's your third favorite color?
*seriously, my third one?* Magenta
What's your fourth favorite color?
*what the heck is wrong with this kid?!* Uh...Grass Green

Sometimes he asks what my favorite animal is.
Or my favorite number.
Or ice cream flavor.

Today he asked me my favorite shape.

I replied - Circle.

He said his favorite was a cube.

I was pretty sure he meant square.

But then he talked about the time we made cubes out of toothpicks and marshmallows. Okay, you win Noah. I'm sorry I'm always underestimating your knowledge. You're still my baby!!!!

Judah

Judah is so shy it's kind of unbelievable. Except I totally believe it because it's EXACTLY me.

As a kid I used to wait until everyone was out of the house - then I'd put on my special dancing outfit (pink long t-shirt pajama tied with my mom's pink bathrobe tie) and put on techno music and dance my heart out.

And then the other week I put on some dance music and watched Judah start grooving for a second only to freeze and say - Mommy, I'm embarrassed. I love dancing but I don't want to do it in front of you.

WHAT?! THAT'S ME!

I've always hated being ashamed of my self-expression - what's the good of dancing and singing if you can't do it WITH others? So I tried my best to coax Judah out of his shyness. And with the help of Taylor Swift, before I knew it, we were twirling around the playroom doing all kinds of made up "real" moves - twirl, spin-around, break-apart, under my legs!

It made me feel redeemed.

But Judah's still too shy to sing his made-up songs in front of me. Instead, the most I can get him to do is take my smartphone to a secluded room, record the song by himself, and then hand me the device while he goes back to hide in said secluded room as I listen to the song he just recorded.

For that one function alone, I'm glad I got a smartphone.

It's filled with the fingerprints of his soul - a barely braved whisper of his true self.

The Assassin and the Wierdo

Between the last post and this one I've actually written 100 blog entries...in my head.

Unfortunately, I don't really remember any of them, but here are some crumbs...which is kind of a perfect analogy of my life in a way.

My future celibate assassin - don't laugh, he could kill you.

Judah. Judah has talked about which girls he would like to marry since he was 2 year old. But now, at the ripe old age of 5 and a half, he has announced that he will be a lifelong celibate. In his own words:

Mommy, I'm not going to marry anyone. Because I'm going to be an assassin when I grow up. That job is too dangerous for me to get married.

Well, it's nice to know he doesn't want to leave anyone widowed and bereaved.

Noah. Noah is becoming a really OCD kind of guy and it's driving me crazy. One of his worst pet peeves is getting wet, even if it's just a tiny droplet of water.

Future crazy homeless guy - emphasis on the crazy.

This is going to SUCK during the Summer when water play will be everywhere. Any accidental splash of water anywhere on his body or even just his clothes results in giant tears and a demand to change out of his wet gear. Even if the sun would literally dry it up before I can run upstairs and get a new shirt for him.

Recently, whenever he washes his hands, he has to dry them on a towel. And then dry them again on a paper towel. AND THEN dry them again on another paper towel. I'm so sorry rainforest trees - but I promise - I do collect and reuse these paper towels again!

This insanity reached an all new level of ridiculosity last week when Noah decided he couldn't even stand the feeling of wetness on his cheeks that were a result from his own tears.

He would cry about something and then cry about having wet cheeks.

And then cry about having more wet cheeks.

And then cry about having even more wet cheeks...

Ad nauseum

And now you know about the infinite loop of toddlerdom hell.

Oh yes, it's REAL.

The Good, the Bad, and the Fat Shaming

Life seems to be accelerating at break neck speed now that I'm with the kids a LOT more than I was previously (before Noah's preschool situation imploded and before I reduced Judah's time in after school daycare).

I can hardly find time to clear dirty plates off the counter and wipe down crumbs, much less maintain a blog of our ins and outs.

But I must! I must! Because this will be my only record of these soon to be bygone days of early childhood chaos and joy. I can think of no better application of Dickens' famous lines - It was the best of times! It was the worst of times.

First the best...

Child development books all say that age 5 is the "golden" year of childhood. And with Judah it is completely TRUE. He wants to be good. He aims to be good. And about 95% of the time he succeeds swimmingly.

 


He's so "good" in fact that he broke into tears last week when I told him that he'll one day be a teenager and will intensely dislike his parents.

Every teenager finds his parents annoying, Judah. They feel like they already know everything and that their parent's rules are simply there to frustrate them and keep them from enjoying life.

No Mommy! I don't want to be a teenager!

He was so distressed that I finally decided he could only be helped by a higher power. And so I told him to pray about it. That sweet boy, he immediately bowed his head and said the most precious thing.

Dear God, thank you for our life stages (Life stages! I kid you not, that is verbatim - the rest I'm paraphrasing from memory). Please let me be a good teenager and not hate my parents. Amen.

Man, I wish this kid could stay "5" forever.

And then the not so good...

Noah has always been a short, fat kid. Especially juxtaposed to his long, lean brother.

Noah at 7 months: poster-child for childhood diabetes or baby sumo-wrestling.

When Judah went through his "I'm Batman" phase, he often pointed to his baby brother and declared that Noah was "the Penguin".

Unfortunately, Judah's teasing of his brother has persisted and now Noah tells me at least once a day "Mommy, I'm fat."

I usually respond with a avalanche of reassurance.

You're not fat Noah!
You're perfect!
I love you just the way you are!
You're wonderful!
You're not fat. And even if you were, there's nothing wrong with being fat.
But you're not fat!
Hippos are wider than giraffes, that's how they're supposed to be.
You're just the way you should be!
Everyone's different and that's okay!

Why can't he understand he has THE PERFECT little body?

This week, instead of my usual tirade, I decided to ask Noah a further question. Maybe I'm reading to much into his statement - I'm fat, mommy. Maybe he identifies as "fat" but doesn't feel like it's a bad thing to be fat.

So I took a deep breath and said, "And how does that make you feel, Noah?"

He looked down and in a small voice whispered, "embarrassed."

Mommy heart. Broken.