Tag: Mama Moments

Come On Four

Come On Four

Posted on by Mama

hatebubbleWell there you have it. Just two months shy of my son’s fourth birthday and I just received my first, “Mommy, I hate you.” I received the lashing because I put milk on his requested cereal instead of letting him eat it dry. What was I thinking? Of course, I’m sure it was actually do to the fact that it was past nap time, we ran around all morning, I didn’t let him see every last dead animal at Cabela’s, or I just didn’t look at him properly (that’s a whole other issue).

All I can say is come on four years. That’s a magical day, right?? Surely all the tantrums, all the attitude and all the whining will just suddenly disappear on his birthday. At two, my husband and I were patting ourselves on the back thinking we had this parent thing down, but then came three. . . If four doesn’t see an attitude adjustment, I’m afraid Parents’ Day Out might become Respite Week Out or I’ll suddenly be taking applications for a nanny (and no, honey, she won’t be cute or perky).

Auction Lover Off the Ol’ Block

Auction Lover Off the Ol’ Block

Posted on by Mama

toytrain2I introduced my three-year-old son to the auction last week and can I just say, “I’m so proud.” He kept his eye on the prize, and before the night was through, he brought home the item of his young-hearted second-hand affection.

Mom and I took my little guy to a small auction in Oklahoma while I was in town for a few days and my son, like a moth to a porch light, zeroed in on an old green engine and it took all the control he could muster to keep his hands off the toy train. In fact, we had to “visit” it several times during the night.

Finally, about two hours later, the toy table finally made its way to the front of the room. I intended to bid on the “gem” of an engine but was seriously hoping that no one else would be interested. To up my odds, I grabbed my son just as the auctioneer picked up the train and stood him up on a chair, hoping that the rest of the room would surely not bid against this cute little guy of mine.

With an opening request of $15, I barely got my number in the air when my son shot his arm straight up and hollered, “Me!” We just happened to be at the very back of the room and everyone turned around to see who was possibly so excited about this not-so-good of a deal. The tactic worked and not a smiling soul dared bid against us, and the cheerful auctioneer was half way back to our seats before yelling “sold” and handing us our prize.

I’m not sure my son’s smile (and eyes) could get much bigger as he realized the little toy train was his. . . come to think of it, the smile on my face was probably pretty matchless too.

Does God Have Bones (and Other Things My Three Year Old Wants to Know)

Does God Have Bones (and Other Things My Three Year Old Wants to Know)

Posted on by Mama

giraffeThe other night as bedtime came (and passed) I was finally drifting off to sleep in a quiet house, when I heard a shout from the other room. My three-year-old son’s voice came wafting down the hallway asking, “Does God have bones?”

Now that’s a good one. I mean, I’m assuming God has bones since He made us in his image, but He sure doesn’t need bones or maybe doesn’t even want bones. I’m guessing gravity is a concept made for Earth, but who knows how Heaven really works.

So what’s a mom to do with these types of questions? I usually chuckle a little at his inquiries, softly smile and answer to the best of my ability; but I gotta tell you, sometimes these questions come flying at me at the strangest times and during the oddest moments, and the older he gets the more his tongue exercises its right to free speech. I mean, the kid isn’t quiet for more than 1.3 minutes at a time (and that’s on a good day). I love that he is so inquisitive, that he enunciates so well that I can understand most of what he says and that every question isn’t simply “why;” but some days my brain just needs a break, because this little guy is constantly asking me questions that keep me hopping for the right answers and quietly asking a few of my own.

Yes, I know you’re dying to feel my pain (and my pride), so I’ve included just a few of my little one’s latest inquiries here.

  • Does God have bones?
  • Why did Emily (my pregnant niece) eat that baby? Well, if she didn’t eat it, how did it get in her belly?
  • Why is a giraffe a giraffe?
  • What is dead and dying?
  • Why does Alanna (my niece with new braces) have train tracks on her teeth?
  • Why do cats have pointy toes?
  • Is pee-pee water? Then I’m watering your plants (to my Mom and thankfully outside)?
  • Why did God make kitty cats? (Yes, I know some of you also ask this question.)
  • Does God have kitty cats up in the sky?
  • Do babies pick their noses too? (It’s the “too” that’s the clincher here.)
  • Is Jesus up in the sky? Is He a boy or a girl?
  • Are trains boys or girls?
  • Why do babies poop their pants?

photo credit: ucumari photography (Valerie) via photopin cc

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