lollipop karma

I never blogged about our annual trip to the North Shore this year for a few reasons. One being that I wrote notes about the trip on the back of some work papers. When I finished that work, they wound up in the recycler. Oops. Secondly, the resident Hernan-dos photographer never flagged his favorite photos from the trip. He's all about the movie clips these days. Photos are so yesterday. Anyway, I get overwhelmed looking at all the photos. Give me the cliff notes, baby!

Anywho, there were a few little funny things that I wanted to write down before I forgot them entirely:

1. When we went to Betty's Pies, in the lobby they had a couple little boxes collecting money for various charities. They also were selling big delicious lollipops. Elian asked if he could get one of the lollipops and Ed told him he would give him a dollar. He could decide if it should go to a hungry child or if he should use it to buy a lollipop for himself. Cruel, I know. See what I have to live with? But guess what my sweet-toothed-lollipop-crazed little man picked? He chose to give his dollar to the hungry children! Talk about a proud Mama moment. IN YOUR FACE YOU PEOPLE WHO SAY ONLY CHILDREN DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHARE! As a reward, Ed bought him two lollipops.

2. Then there was the trip we took to the Portland Malt shop. Or should I say ONE of the trips we took to the Portland Malt shop. When the girl at the window asked Elian what kind of ice cream he wanted, he responded, "Chocolate with a layer of chocolate on it." When she told him they didn't have dipped cones, he asked for sprinkles. Strike two, no sprinkles. But that didn't keep him down. He was going to get extra sugar one way or another. He started panning the back of the ice cream stand. That's when he spotted some spray whipped cream and said, "I see you have some of that!"

3. And finally, when we were taking a little hike around Gooseberry Falls, we came upon this thin ledge that jutted out with trees growing out the top of it. When Elian saw it, he said, "It looks like something out of a Dr. Seuss book!" and it truly did.

quote of the day

MAMA: What do you want in your lunch tomorrow buddy, alphabet soup or peanut butter and honey?

ELIAN: Peanut butter and honey. And maybe some apples...(recalling the signs we saw when we went apple picking) maybe some Connel Reds...maybe some Sweet Sixteens...maybe some Do Not Picks...

quote of the day

Yesterday, Ed had the day off work (hooray, Christopher Columbus!). Elian had his Monday morning daycare, so Ed and I had a romantic shopping spree date at Target and REI followed by lunch at Good Earth. We had to sort of rush through the lunch part so we could pick up the little man in time, so there was no dessert (gasp!). Ed suggested we make up for it with a trip to Cafe Latte after picking the boy up. And who was I to argue? Just take one look here and you'll know why.

We took our mammoth-sized dessert selections (chocolate chocolate cake and some sort of berry crumble if you must know) and sat down. There was a dude sitting nearby with some funky cheetah-spots dyed in his hair. I said to Elian, "Hey, buddy, look at that guys hair, he looks like a leopard."

He looks around and looks around.

I point. "Over there, buddy!"

He looks around and looks around. I can tell he can't see what I'm talking about. And proving my point he says, "Oh yeah, he does look like a leprechaun!"

rain man

Every once in a while, the little man freaks my freak. Like the other day. We were playing this golf game (surprise, surprise), seeing who could hit the golf ball closest to a block. Sometimes there would be an argument about who was closest. That's when he would pull out his measuring tape to confirm the results. One time, after one of us hit the ball, he said right away without grabbing the measuring tape, "That's about 32 inches." I measured to see for myself. It was 32 inches. Exactly.

Then today, we were enjoying a little quiet time. He was doing his thing, I was doing mine. After about a half hour, he was done. He came over to me and looked at the remaining pages of my book and said,
"Is that what you just read?"
"No," (fanning pages) "This is what I read during our quiet time."
"So 28 pages, right?"
"I don't know, maybe it's about 28 pages."
"Let's count."
"Well, I don't really need to count, I can just look at the page number where I started and then look at the page number where I ended and subtract." (Subtracting 380 from 408.) "Yep, it's 28 pages, Rain Man."

another wii-kend

The little man and I spent the past weekend at Grandma and Grandpa Schulz's in Racine. It was a great trip filled with fun: a pool table, a pizza party with the aunts, uncles and cousins, grandma's marble run, miniature golfing and last but not least, cousin Chloe's Wii. The little man got some quality Wii time in while at Grandma and Grandpa's. He's still blathering on about Shay-Shay Lake or some such track I have no idea what he's talking about.

This morning, I drove him to preschool because it was raining and I couldn't find our second umbrella. As I was buckling him into his car seat, I reminded him that he has a cold and he needs to cover his mouth when he coughs -- especially at school. I said something like, "You should just keep practicing that so you do it automatically." Still in Mario-Kart-Wii-mode, he responded, "Not manually."

nice kids. nice music.

Apparently Ed doesn't have enough to do what with a presentation tomorrow and staying up until 5 a.m. to get things ready for that. He had time to sneak this lovely video in.

ECFE Picnic 2009 from ehernandez on Vimeo.

papa and mini-papa

Why is it so cute when a dad and his son dress alike? But if I did it, it would just be plain weird. (Note matching converse high-tops compliments of Grandma Johnson since Ed insisted he and his father have the same pair of shoes when he was about the same age as Elian.)

You really have to see their routines when Ed plays Elian and Elian plays Ed. It's true performance art.

how i spent my summer

golthhh fever

The little man is super-crazy about golf, or "golth" as he calls it (because when he's feeling lazy, he still pronounces his final fs as "th"). To illustrate what I'm talking about, here is a snapshot of our day:

This morning: Played some putt-putt golf at the course next to our house. I figured it was the last weekend they'd be open, so I wanted to give him his last shot at a hole-in-one. No luck. But he'll get another chance because it turns out they're going to be open through September. Hooray! (I think).

This afternoon: A little PGA tour viewing on TV. The little dude has learned that Sunday means golf on TV. And thanks to Grandpa Schulz, Sunday also means Tiger Woods will be wearing his Sunday Red shirt. The other day, he told me he wanted a Tiger Woods shirt. When I asked him if that meant a shirt like Tiger wears when he plays golf, or a T-shirt with Tiger on it, he told me the latter. A quick google search was unsuccessful, but I did find this that left him mildly amused:



After about a half hour of TV golf viewing, he wanted to hit golf balls at the park. This has become almost a daily ritual for us lately. Either he hits a bucket of balls with his real golf club. Or he uses his "future champion" (toy-ish) set to hit practice foam balls to a hole that he sets across the field.

The other day he told me he wanted to be a professional golfer when he grew up. And given his dedication and ability to focus on the game for what seems like a long time for a four year-old, I wouldn't be surprised if he got pretty good. Then again, given his stubbornness and ability to take direction and "tips" that he seems to have inherited from his mother, maybe not. But he did say, that if he ever got to play golf on TV like Tiger Woods, I could be his caddy. So I've got that going for me.

So you wanna see his new hero?



Guess who wanted to drive a line of golf balls in the backyard?

skip this if you don't enjoy political commentary

What he said.

*****

A lot of the online games Elian plays on the computer are rated on a scale from one to five stars. Because of this, he has recently become increasingly interested in the star rating system. So much so that he chooses to rate many elements of his life: his teachers, his friends, his cousins and yes, his Mama and Papa (we're SIXES, baby! Woohoo!). He is very scientific about the rating and will often explain why someone might get fewer than five stars. This explanation is often very humorous (probably not for the person who does not receive the five-star rating).

Every night the "good-nighter" (the person who does not do the bathing and the book reading but comes up after and says goodnight) gets to play a game with his dogs Friday and Romeo. This game could be baseball, it could be miniature golf, it could be "real" golf or it could be a game of huckle-buckle-beanstalk (don't tell me you don't know what that is!). I happen to be the good-nighter on my birthday. So I came up to his room, all ready to get Friday, my dog for the game. Elian always takes Romeo and Ed or I get Friday because, you see, Friday's a little rude (a blog entry in itself). But not this time. No, this time instead he hands me Romeo and says, "Here Mama, you can have the five-star dog because it's your birthday."

catty II

My sister-in-law Shannon is the queen of caterpillars. In the summertime, you can always count on them having a monarch caterpillar or two that they house until it becomes a beautiful butterfly. She's even raised some since the egg stage. I KNOW! She's like the Steve Irwin of caterpillars.

Now that Elian is at an age to appreciate the metamorphosis of creatures, I thought I'd try my hand at some caterpillar care. Our first caterpillar, "Catty" we called him, er, or her, I found crawling on my niece Chloe when we were at Minnehaha Falls. After some quick research, Ed found out that it ate oak leaves and that it would turn into not a beautiful butterfly, but a common moth (insert Debbie Downer sound effect). Still, we took care of that little guy like he was the family pet. It was very exciting when he started to make his cocoon (that looked more like a spider web to me). He stayed in that cocoon for months before I decided he wasn't coming out.

So a week or so ago, Elian and I were in the front garden when we spotted this little guy:


Do I dare try my hand at caterpillar care? I thought. But Elian was super excited. Maybe THIS one will turn into a beautiful butterfly. But after some quick research we learned, no, not this one. This one turns into another moth. A tiger moth (sounds fierce!) But Elian insisted we keep it. So I scraped Catty's crusty old cocoon out and we rinsed out the bug cage.

It's been about two weeks and I'm happy to report that Catty II is still alive and well. We had a close call about an hour ago when I was cleaning out his cage and giving him his daily dandelion and plantain salad (Do you know how much caterpillars poop? Who'da thought?) when Catty II fell out the hole and into the garbage. I fished around in the wet coffee grounds and god knows what else for a good five minutes before I found him. I almost gave up because the garbage was a little gross but I couldn't bring myself to have to tell Elian, "Mama accidentally dumped Catty II in the garbage..." The poor fuzzy little guy. I think he's okay, but he's probably got a pretty good caffeine buzz.

in which she gains not just another year but also 15 pounds

My friend Amy is the best. She sent me not one, but TWO dozen scrumptious and beautiful mini cupcakes for my birthday. Not only that, but when she was giving me the heads up about it over the phone. I mistakingly repeated back the word, "Delivery?" and the little dude heard it.

He has been quite obsessed with the UPS truck lately. Whenever we see it around town, he traces it with his eyes, following its next turn to see if it's headed toward our house with a possible delivery for him. After which I explain that it's not his birthday or Christmas so probably he won't be receiving anything via UPS anytime soon.

Well, Amy overheard his pathetic over-anticipation of this mysterious delivery (and how he thought it might be for him). So she felt she couldn't disappoint. So yesterday, not only did we receive the two dozen amazing cupcakes (plus four French macaroon cookies), but Elian got a perfect little waterfally sand toy for his new sand box (to be featured in a later post once the resident Hernan-dos photographer completes his photo series of our backyard project). The little man was beside himself when the UPS truck pulled up in front of our house. He nervously paced back and forth and ran to the door to peek through the window. If only I had captured it on video.

So before the arrival of the cupcakes, Ed promised Elian that they would make a cake together for my birthday. Do you think that two dozen cupcakes are going to deter the boy from baking me a cake (well, not one of the boys)? I explained to him this morning that with all the cupcakes, maybe he and Papa don't need to make me a cake. Shame on me. "Mama, you NEED a cake" (thankfully, he got Grandma Schulz's birthday-cake genes). We then decided that you could never have too much cake, so they plan to make it this afternoon. And I plan to eat it.

quote of the day

The other night the little man was having trouble falling asleep. I had been up there a few times. On one of the occasions there was this exchange:

MAMA: (Leaning over bed) Just close your eyes and think about things that make you happy...

ELIAN: (Reaches up and grabs one of my breasts) Like Mama's boobies...




Jeeeeesh, like father like son.

dear norman

Is it not enough that you've pee-killed three of our brand new plants in the backyard? Now you have to claim the boy's new sandbox as your bed?

And don't think I didn't see you when you lifted your head from Papa's brand-new pillow. We know it's comfortable, that's why we purchased THREE of them from the hotel. None of which was intended for you. BUT DON'T LET THAT STOP YOU.

It's too bad your life is so hard.

Love,
Mama

get up, stand up

Last night, when Elian and I were heading downtown to pick up Papa, Bob Marley's "Get Up, Stand Up" was on the radio. I don't think the little man had ever heard that song before but judging by his unusual silence, I knew he was listening. When the song was over he made a request, "Mama, can you put my CD on?"

Later that night, when I was putting him to bed entirely too late because of our picnic festivities, he didn't want to get out of bed to brush his teeth. "I'm tooooooo TYYYYYYYYYYYYRED," he said. I said, "Get up, buddy, we have to brush your teeth." I could see the lightbulb go on in his curly-locked head as he replied in perfect Bob Marley rhythm, "Get up, stand up..."

another year, another picnic

A few shots from our picnic last night. My, how they've all grown since last year.

enter the can-can phase

(This one goes out to Monkey who insisted he reads Hernan-dos and wants me to get off my lazy ass and resume the account of our boy.)

So a while back Ed's parents brought our nephew Thurston for a visit. I can't remember how old Thurston is, but he is a few years older than Elian. Maybe 8?

Anyway, we were all sitting around the house chatting. All except Thurston who had tons of energy that needed releasing. As a result he was jumping around the house doing the can-can and singing the music. Ed and I looked on in horror. Thank God, OUR son doesn't have that kind of energy we thought.

Well, recently Elian has proven us wrong. He DOES have that kind of energy. And then some. One day he was exerting the energy doing some sort of crazy song. Maybe he was singing one of the songs from the Songs of Music but in mock-Chinese. Ed looked over to me and said, "I think we've officially entered the Can-Can stage."

I'm not sure why I've been in such a blog rut. Maybe I can blame it on the summer fun and not wanting to sit down in front of the computer. Or maybe it's because Elian has been doing just too many funny things lately that I can no longer keep up with them. But after hearing from my reader, I'm going to try to make more of an effort to get this started again.

too bad he's so shy

Given my shy and/or anti-social nature, sometimes I'm amazed at how social the little man can be. I can almost always count on him to strike up a conversation with the cashier when we're shopping. He usually opens with, "Hi, my name's Elian!"

Yesterday we were at the park. He was climbing on this structure with a little girl. The little girl's mother was nearby and Elian said, "Mama, can I tell her something?" Not sure if he was talking about the little girl or the mother, and not sure what exactly he wanted to tell her, I hesitated and answered, "Sure." Here's what happened next:

ELIAN: (talking to the mom) Hey, I want to tell you something!

ME: (Getting a wee bit nervous about what's to come.)

THE MOM: Okay.

ELIAN: One time when I got THREE rubber balls when I put a quarter in a rubber-ball machine.

THE MOM: Wow, that sounds like it was a lucky day.

ELIAN: Yeah, and I even got some ICE CREAM!

ME: (Wiping my brow on the inside.)


The miracle of the three rubber balls happened about a month or so ago when Elian and I took the car to get an oil change. The place had given us a coupon for a free ice cream across the street. So we went and got one while we waited. I'm not sure if he had been thinking about that while he was climbing on the structure and just had to tell someone. Or, if he just had to tell this woman something and that's the first thing he thought of. Whatever. It was funny.

if our house exploded