Halloween Hero 2014

Every year, my children's school celebrates Halloween in a creative and educational way. Each child in the elementary program selects a person from history that they consider a hero. They gather research materials and write down facts about their famous person throughout the month of October. They then use that work to create a report, hand-bound in a book with an illustrated picture of their hero that they present to the class on or near Halloween. The kids also have the option of dressing up as their hero.

Since Cara is now in Junior High, she didn't get to participate. In previous years, her heroes included the following: Harriet Tubman, Eleanor Roosevelt, Anne Sullivan, Susan B Anthony, Marie Curie, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

Cara as Elizabeth Cady Stanton (2013)

Last year, Connor went as Dr. Seuss. When I asked about his selection, he later revealed "He's the only famous person I know."

Connor as Dr Seuss (2013)

This year, the conversation about his Halloween Hero went like this:

Me: "Why do you want to be Benjamin Franklin?"
Connor: "Because he's funny."

Me: "Why do you think he's funny?"

Connor: "Because he's like, 'Oh so thaaaats what it's like to be shocked.....Ow!'"

Connor as a "young Benjamin Franklin"

Daddy's Super Hero

Connor and Craig have been watching super hero cartoons together lately. Right now, they're on a Spiderman kick, but prior to that, it was Justice League. A few months ago, Craig started teasing his son by saying that Connor's favorite hero was Green Lantern. (It's not. I mean, whose favorite is actually Green Lantern? C'mon.) It's an exchange that's really funny to be in the audience for and usually results in the boy charging at his father, fists first. And Connor is like a little terrier that doesn't realize that he's not as big as the German shepherd that he's constantly barking at. And like a terrier, his energy level for this type of play is extremely high and he just WILL NOT STOP.

I took my little super hero-loving brawler to Target on a day where I had enough patience to be a competent participant in the "We're Not Buying Anything" game*. Most of the time, I deal with purchase requests by offering to put those items on his wish list and then refer to the closest date where he might be given said item (Easter, Christmas, birthday). So when Connor asked to go to the toy aisle, I happily complied. We had a blast when we got to the super hero section.

He faked extreme excitement and said "Send Dad this picture".

Connor loved looking at all of the toys in this section and playing pretend. And then he came across these Incredible Hulk Smash Fists and was mesmerized. He eagerly read the back of the box (in my mind, he was checking to see if there's a "don't hit your sister" warning). After reading, he said, "Daddy would NOT like it if I got these." He flipped the box around to look at the fists a little closer and added, "Put these on my list."

* For those that haven't played, this is a game where the parental participant has to repeat the phrase "We're not buying anything" over and over to every single request from their child. Each time, the parent must keep their voice at the same volume as when they began the game, regardless of their child's volume, changes in the child's tone (ranging from calm to complete whine-fest), type of request (usually starts out with purchases that require lottery money and then tapers off to gumball machine change requests), or state of movement (the sky's the limit for the kids in this area, as is the floor and the shelves and underneath the clothes racks). Whoever elicits an eye-roll from a passer-by loses.

Child Labor

Cara is now at an age where, when she requests to participate in certain things or wants to buy something that isn't particularly on the "need" list, she is told that she will need to use her own money. The list of things she has to dip into her own funds for is growing as she gets closer and closer to her teen years.

Now that her cash reserve is dwindling, Cara has been doing research on ways in which she could make money that she might actually enjoy. In her research, she came across a book called "Better Than A Lemonade Stand", which gave her a host of options along with advice on how to run her own small business.

One of the options mentioned in the book was babysitting. And not just having your own group of people you babysit for. Oh no. This was a whole babysitter/pimp suggestion where Cara would start out as the primary babysitter, develop a client list, and then enlist the help of additional babysitters, which she would organize and get a cut from.

I don't know that Cara will get to that point (and if we do, we are open for suggestions on where to buy pimp hats).In the meantime, she's starting into this endeavor much more prepared than I ever was when I babysat. Besides the research she has done, Cara is also taking a class with the Red Cross specifically designed for kids her age who want to babysit.

It's so great to watch her so interested in what she is learning and I'm sure the coursework provides some insight that I might not have thought to give her myself. But it's hard to not take it personal when my daughter suggests that I "should really read some of this. It talks about how to deal with kids without yelling."

He's Not Arguing, He's Opposing

Most conversations with Connor involve a delicate game of semantics. Use the right word, and you're home free. Use the wrong word and you're in for a long and winding road that usually leads right back to where you started.

Normally, our advice to outsiders caught in one of these discussions is to "go limp" (our code for just agree with him). Even knowing this, I am the biggest sucker when it comes to getting pulled in to these. Sometimes, I just can't let it go and these things go on and on and on and just when I think I've proven my point, he's found a way to make himself the winner of the argument. (Shut up. It's not like I'm wondering where he gets it.)

Like this one time:

Connor: "This girl at school had a coat just like mine."

Me: "The blue one?"
Connor: "No. Her coat was just like mine."
Me: "Which coat of yours was it like?"
Connor: "The blue one."

Or this other time:
Me: "You have a booger on your nose."
Connor: "No I don't. It's dried snot."
Me: "Snot and boogers are the same thing."
Connor: "No, snot is wet and boogers are dry.

But transcription of the conversation does not truly capture the verbal circles this child can argue in. A virtual dialogue tornado. Lucky for you, I'm a storm chaser when it comes to these and I was actually able to capture one on film.

It should be noted that, immediately after I "cut", Connor tried to get me to smell the cards.

Apple users, you're going to want to upgrade to Android to watch this. Okay, fine. You could click here instead.

Oh, Shift

YouTube videos do not always come with warnings. Anything that has NSFW in the title, I can usually count on to not be something that I want to show to my kids. With Cara getting older, I've gotten a little more lax on what she can and can't view. In fact, I probably push it a little bit into the TMI range for her when I go into details to explain any adult content that she might have encountered. 

Ooh. Just had a flashback to grade school. My friend, Jennifer, and I watched "The Blue Lagoon" at her house, even though my parents had told me that they didn't want me to watch it. I didn't see what the big deal was after watching it (it took me until I was in my 30s to realize how raunchy the movie "Grease" was, so you could say I might have been a bit naive). But my parents, upon finding out and moving past their "disappointed in you" talk, wanted to discuss in detail what I thought about the movie. I believe I talked about the plot and how I loved Brooke Shield's hair and would never want to live on an island like that. Eventually, they had to directly ask about the nudity which I had no clue was an issue until they pointed it out. Yay, parenting!

Back to today...

Connor is at the age where he'll come home from school and tell me about a kid in his class that "said the I word". Idiot, for those that don't speak grade school code. Yeah. Idiot is a curse word at school, which it rightly should be when the intention in using that word is to make someone feel bad. But that actual word and dozens more like it are found in commercials and cartoons and in passing conversations, so it's hard to limit exposure to those sorts of things. Even so, I do try to keep him away from the handful of words that are considered to be curse words both in and out of the elementary school yard. 

Needless to say, we do not like letting Connor watch YouTube videos without supervision. Usually (and by usually I mean when Craig is around to suggest I do so), I will watch the video first and then let him know if he can view it after me. I watched a video the other day that I found funny and I thought Connor would as well. The only problem with it was that at the very end, an adult word was used. Had my phone been working right, I would have successfully stopped the video before that word was spoken. I tried not to draw attention to it, but that boy doesn't miss much. 

"I heard them say 'he's shifting'," he tells me.  Phew. Coast was clear....if I had kept my mouth shut. 

Instead, I pointed out the nudity in the "Blue Lagoon." 

I ask, "What do you think that means?" I fully expected an accurate description of shifting. So, my loud blurt of laughter can be justified as surprise when he said, "It means shooting dung."

Lucky Lotto

Connor: "Mom. I know how to win the lottery."
Me: "Wow. That's amazing. We should tell Daddy."
Connor: "Yeah. Tell him 5 8 9 7 3."
Me: "Okay."
Conor: "Wait. How many numbers do you need for the lottery?"
Me: "Six."
Connor: "Okay. Add a 1 at the end."

The Unknown

Me: "When you were little, I didn't know how much fun you'd be."
Connor: "But now you do."
Me: "You're right."
Connor: "You just don't know when."

Veggie Tales

Overheard conversation between the two kids:

Connor: "How come I get the most vegetables and the least dessert?"
Cara: "You do not get the most vegetables. You get the least!"
Connor: "Well, why? Don't mom and dad want me to grow big and strong?"

Did I Do That?

Me: "Do you think maybe you shouldn't touch those?"
Connor: "Well, NOW I won't."

Protection. Winter. Same difference.

Connor was very excited about a recent purchase of kids' foam soap, which he likes to refer to as shaving cream. I explained that shaving cream is used by men for their face and women on their legs before they shaved.

After a moment of reflection, my son adds, "Yeah. Girls sometimes have spikeys on their legs. They do that for protection."

Rocky Mountain. Hi.

While visiting family in Colorado, we decided to take the kids along on a road trip up into the mountains. We made sure to leave the screens at home so that they could actually enjoy the incredible view out their windows.

It was about midway through the trip when Connor asked, "Are we done with this adventure yet?"

Please. No one teach him air quotes.

Bubble Bath

Connor has recently discovered a love for bubble baths. Honestly, who can blame him? 

So, I take 1/4 c liquid hand soap, 1/4 c of his shampoo, mix them together, and add to the tub while it's filling. Voila! A tub FILLED with bubbles.

"That's why they call it Mister Bubble. Because it's bubbles the size of misters." 

Peek-A-Boo

Yesterday, Connor had an hour long orientation at his new school. I was talking with him later that evening about this experience, when I started questioning him about his teachers.

"What did you think of Julieanne?" I asked.

"She was nice."

"And did you like your other teacher?"

"Yeah. She was kind of shy. I guess that's why she's named Heidi."

Lego Nerdlets

Cara and Connor were playing with Legos in Connor's room. After a short time, they both came out of his room to proudly show us what they had made.

"It's the Tardis," Cara proudly declared.

I asked Connor, "What did you build?"

Since he's got a Master's in Little Brother, of course his answer was "A Tardis Destroyer."

Teacher Trouble

Next month, Connor will finally be attending the same school as Cara.  While Cara has thought of school as one of her favorite places since she was about 3 (and still does at age 11 1/2), Connor would beg to differ.  Actually, he never begs to differ. He just differs.

As the summer ends and we approach the start of this new school year, I've been wondering how well things will go.  My worry is centered around whether Connor will have a hard time adjusting.

Before I attended the spring parent/teacher conference at Connor's old school, I asked my son what his teacher might say about him.  His thoughtful reply was, "My teacher thinks I'm challenging but actually, I'm the master."

I'm pretty sure my concerns should focus more on the well-being of his teacher.

Headless Loon

Cara and I were out for a walk in her grandparents' neighborhood and we passed by this mailbox. We've seen this thing several times before, but on this particular trip, I decided to verbally point it out by saying "Headless Loon".  

I should mention that Cara was in the midst of talking about her father's current preoccupation with classic cars when I blurted those two words out.  She stopped talking and looked at me quizzically. Assuming that she just didn't hear me, I repeated myself.

"Headless Loon."  An equally perplexed look from my daughter followed.  Again, I persisted, "Headless Loon."

"Okaaaaay," she finally responded and continued her discussion about the antique automobiles.

"Do you even know what I was talking about?" I asked.

"Not really.  When you say things like that, I just assume that it's old people slang that I just don't understand. I thought Headless Loon was code for convertible or something."

Ski Bunny

This weekend, both of the kids went to a winter park where Cara skied and Connor tubed.  Cara has only been skiing about a half dozen times but, based on her description of this outing, she's pretty sure she's awesome at it.

While describing her first time down the big slope, she told me, "I looked at the hill and saw that it wasn't that steep, so I decided that I was just gonna french fry it." (French fry being the term used where your skis are parallel to each other. The other ski position option? Pizza.)

Then she began talking about a boy she met at the slopes. I began to panic. What? She's meeting and talking to boys? In public? Without complaining about cooties? Unacceptable!

Before complete mommy meltdown commences, she says, "He told me he tubed. That's not even a sport. It's like sledding. You can't get good at sledding."

Ahh, my daughter. Regulating her mom's blood pressure with her ability to knock the wind out of a boy's sails.

The word she was looking for was "pilgrims"

Cara has been very adamant this year that Christmas songs and decorations should be saved until after Thanksgiving. She feigns disgust when we go into a store adorned in red and green. She has been honing her pre-teen eye-rolling skills when I flip the radio to holiday tunes. It's a display of forced anger that I quite enjoy teasing her about because that's the kind of mother I am.

In the car the other day, we took back roads and I took advantage how far my daughter still has to sit from the radio controls while I tuned in and turned up the Christmas songs. The giant puff of exasperation exploded in a rant about the music and then into the lawn decorations she was seeing on our route.

We turned the corner and came upon a house that was adorned with Thanksgiving inflatables. "See?!", Cara exclaims. "Those people know how to decorate for the right holiday. They've got their yard full of turkeys and immigrants!"

Retired

Cara has always had a colorful view of what it is like to be retired.  When she was five, my stepfather was getting ready to retire.  After she had overheard me talking about this upcoming event, the following discussion took place:
Me: "Grandpa is going to retire in a couple of weeks. What do you think he's going to do now that he doesn't have to go to work?"
Cara: "Stay at home."
Me: "What do you think he's going to do at home?"
Cara: "Whatever Grandma says."

Now that 5 of her 6 grandparents are retired, Cara has honed her thoughts on the subject.  We were talking about one set of her grandparents when this little gem came out:  "They're retired. All they have to do is stay alive and be happy."

I wonder what she thinks about stay-at-home moms.  Actually, I'm pretty sure I'd rather not know.

Honesty is Such a Lonely Word

Today in the car, after Connor insisted on debating about something that wasn't up for debate, he got upset that the results of this debate were not to his liking.  After a moment's pause, he said, "Mom. You're the bestest mom ever...but I don't like you right now."