Baby Poop and Business Suits

Niko, this morning, (second week of Kindergarten), as he threw a fit on my bedroom floor and kicked the wall:

"I DON'T want to go to SCHOOL! They make me do TOO MUCH WORK!!! MY FINGERS ARE SORE from COLORING all day long!!!!!"

Niko just told me that his blanky sounds like Coldplay.

Last night, while our family was in backyard lounging after dinner, Kyra, 7, turns to her father, Jeremy, 36, and says:

"Dad, you are mean. And you're creepy."

Niko, while playing with his alphabet puzzle:

"Mom. If BIRD started with N it would be NERD!"

This morning before school while kids were eating breakfast:

Me:        Kyra, let's go over your spelling words, spell bell for me.
Niko:     B-E-L-L!

The kid can spell most of his sister's second grade spelling words. Now only if he could get through one night without peeing the bed...

 

"Niko," I asked while hugging and smooching him after working all day, "did you miss me!?"

"Yes." he replied. Then added, "Or, not really."

A four year old brain... ON FIRE!

While driving to Kalamazoo, within about a ten minute time span, Niko shot these questions at me:

Mom, how do trees grow? 

Mom. Where do flowers come from?

Mom, who made this town?

How do you make cars?

Mom, how do lights work?

Mom-ma! How do you make a flag like that one in our yard?

How do you make a mailbox?

Mom? How do you make a skateboard?

My response:

"Well, uuuuh, er, ummmm, you see, things are alive on the earth because of oxygen and dirt, the earth makes -

um, cause bees pollinate and buzz from plant to, well, a few hundred years ago there were just Native Americans here and Michigan was all woods, and then European people came over on ships and -

well people made buildings and then they started adding more buildings and it became, well, then there were roads -

but back then there weren't any cars, you know, really it wasn't THAT long ago, you know, just a hundred years or so, like just before Grandma Arnsman was born, people rode on horses and had carriages pulled by horses, but then -

well, you know Benjamin Franklin? He figured out how lightning, I mean, he flew a kite and figured out how electricity was in the air and how to make things light up -

oh, that plastic flag? The one for the buried electrical cable, I think? Is that what you mean? Well, that's plastic, and plastic is made from a chemical process -

well, mailboxes, um, metal ones like THAT ONE THERE, are made in a factory too, by people, and machines -

Oh! Wood is what makes skateboards, yes wood from trees! Yes I know that one! You take a tree and cut it, saw it, shape it to make the shape of a skateboard, and then you use rubber or plastic for the tires, I think? Rubber, um, rubber comes from..."

Email message I just received from my friend Ellen (the day after Kyra's dance recital and dinner at our house afterward:)

"We really enjoyed yesterday.  The dance recital was great and the time spent with you all afterward was wonderful. I particularly enjoyed my conversation with Niko about his penis."

 

Niko - 3 years, 11 months and 6 days old

Since Niko was born I've been shocked by the fact that he is NOT a big eater, like the rest of us. "Are you sure he's really OUR kid?" I'd comment to my husband, Jeremy, as the rest of clean our plates during dinner and he takes a bite and then loses interest. This behavior is very opposite of his sister (we used to watch her in amazement at a baby/toddler during feedings and comment that she had no "turn off valve".)

We're just all eaters, and he appeared to be different. Until recently.

For example, this morning. It's 9:00 am.

Niko: "I want lunch now."

Me: "Niko! It's nine in the morning. We just ate breakfast!"

Niko: "But I want a sandwich! I'm hungry!"

So I make him a turkey sandwich with a side of cottage cheese. I call him to the table and he crawls up on the chair, eyeing the food.

Niko: "YEEEEE HAWWWW!" he says, preparing to dig in, his mouth watering.

He eats, and then sits down to play some Wii. He then turns to me five minutes after finishing his lunch-breakfast and says,

"So, what's for dinner?"

I guess he really IS mine.

Today I'm wondering:

Does every mother think her children are the most beautiful, clever and magical little beings on the planet? Do most mothers think their child's eyes sparkle the brightest? That their cheeks are the softest, and their voices are the sweetest?

Geeze, *SOMEONE'S* feeling sappy today. I'd better go check the calendar, it's probably just the PMS talking.