A Bumblebee and a Snowman

I love listening to Fintan playing with his daddy. It usually sounds something like this:

"Daddy, will you play with me?"

"Of course. I'd love to! What do you want to play?"

"I'll be a bumble bee and you be the Abominable Snow Man. Okay, Daddy?."

"Okay."

"And you chase me."

"Okay!"

(Stomp, stomp, stomp, squeal!)

"I'm gonna get you! Gnowrlll!"

"No you're not!"

"Yes I am. I almost got y--!"

"STING!"

"Oooeee! Aw man, I almost had you, too. Grrnowgl! Now I'm gonna get--."

"STING!"

"Ooh, Yeeowwy!"

*laughter*

"Daddy, now you be the daddy bumblebee and I'll be the baby bumblebee, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now you say, 'Hey, baby bumblebee!'".

"Hey, baby bumblebee!"

"What?"

A kale chip off the ol' block.

"What is this?" Fintan asked me this morning, his mouth full.
"They're called 'kale chips'," I answered.
"Mmmm, I like kale chips."
Through the monitor I heard Coen crying again, adamantly refusing his nap, and I gave up. I brought him down and asked them, "Would you guys like to go to the indoor playground today?"
"Yes!" Fintan said. "But first I want some more kale chips." He held out his empty bowl.
"That's all we had, Sweetie, they're all gone."
"But I want more!"
Well, would you rather go out to the greenhouse and harvest more kale for chips or go to the indoor playground?"
His pause was long and thoughtful as rain sheeted against the windows.
"Go to the indoor playground."

This evening I put on a hat, a puffy coat, wellies and a headlamp and went out into the freezing rain to harvest kale so Fintan could have kale chips in his preschool lunch tomorrow. He and his daddy watched me from the window while I worked and Fintan said, "I wish I was big so I could put on a headlamp and a big coat and go out all by myself when it's dark and harvest greens."

Gosh, I love that little boy.

Don't fall in any lakes, okay?

This morning Fintan has already made me laugh out loud three times with things he's said.

The first, when his daddy was leaving: "Drive careful, Daddy. Don't fall in any lakes."

The second while we were eating breakfast. He folded his hands together and said: "We're eating breftast now--but one of us is missing." I laughed and asked, "Who's missing?" and he told me, "My daddy".

The third was when "breftast" was finished and I was cleaning the grits off of his face and hands. I said, "You're a mess!" He pointed to the only grit-free spot on his shirt and said "I did a good job of keeping myself clean right here."

Trouble with a capital tea

Fintan asked yesterday. "So, does a green stop sign mean go?"
"Hmmm, you'd think so, but no."

Tonight in the middle of playing Fintan went tearing off down the hallway and through the kitchen. I yelled after him to come back and he ignored me. He raced out onto the porch, with me following not-too-happily behind, and picked up a little metal kitchen pot he'd left out there earlier. He'd played with it in the water table this afternoon but I hadn't looked closely at it when he'd set it down after we finished. Now he brought the pan carefully to his lips, took a couple sips and said "Aaaah, I needed a little tea!" He set it back down and raced back into the house. I looked in the pot and saw that he had a lemon balm leaf floating in the water.

Twerps and castrators

No, not Fintan. He's not a twerp. Well, he sometimes is a twerp, I suppose, but I've never called him one! "Twerp" is what he calls the waistband of his pants. I don't know where this word came from. When we play tickle games and he's "trying" to get away, he'll yell "catch me by my twerp!" as he runs by. The first few times I said, "huh?" Now I find myself thinking: "Where's my belt? My twerp's riding a little low."

Whenever we play "store" Fintan tells me to wait while he goes and gets his "castrator". It's a small device with a door that dings open when you press "cash" and it has lots of little numbers on it. It looks like a cash register but apparently it has a little calculator buried somewhere in its ancestory--soooo, it's a castrator!

Wanna play, guys?

A very good question

Fintan was sitting on my lap out on the porch this evening, blowing bubbles towards me and asking me where they popped.

"Where did that one pop?"

"On my shoulder."

"Where did that one pop?"

"On my cheek."

"Where did that one pop?"

"On my tummy."

"Where did that one pop?"

"On my forearm."

"Where's your ten arm?"

*pause* (reflect)

"That's a good question."

Do you take returns, Santa?

The boys and I went to a play date this morning at a friend's house. They had an enormous bounce house set up in their basement and Fintan loved it.

This evening he was telling Pat all about it and how much fun it was. He said, "I want a bounce house, Dada. We can give Santa back the trampoline!"

You know your sick child is watching too much TV...

When he stands upon a small stool with a ball in one hand and a rubber rocket in the other and announces: I want to play a game...but I'm going to need your help.

Baa baa black tails

Fintan, singing a few moments ago:

"Baa baa black tails ring, making spirits bright...."

Sniff

A conversation earlier today:

"I'm sniffing Coen."
"What does Coen smell like?"
"Peaches and cream."
"What does Fintan smell like?"
"Peaches and cream."
"What does Mommy smell like?"
"Peaches and cream."
"And what does Daddy smell like?"
"Skunks."

The Negotiator and Blind Santa

Fintan likes to negotiate. One of the first phrases he ever spoke, was: "Five more minutes?" Lately, though, "five" has given way to "three". I'll say something like, "you have one more minute to play and then we have to leave," and Fintan will counter with "Three more minutes!" Or I'll say, "You can have a cookie after lunch" and Fintan will come back with "Three cookies!" But he hasn't really mastered the finer points of negotiation yet...or, it would seem, of numbers. Tonight I whispered in his ear: "Only two more nights before Santa will come down our chimney" and Fintan whispered back: "Three more nights."

And if anyone needs a laugh....and don't we all....here is a video* that might do the trick:

*Only one person was slightly hurt in the making of this video

Bad bucket

This morning Fintan was really cranky. Nothing made him happy. He was demanding and whiney and bossy and had one meltdown after another. Finally I took him into my lap and said, "Fintan, I don't understand. What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"

He sat quietly in my lap for a moment then lifted his hand and pointed. "That bucket is making me sad."

Feedin' Fintan funnies

Fintan has been a crack-up lately while eating.

The other day Pat was trying to encourage Fintan to eat the last of his soy corn-dog after Fintan told him he was "all done!" Pat asked "Wouldn't you like to dip it in ketchup and take another big bite?" And Fintan said, "not exactly".

This morning after Fintan told me he was "all done!" I looked at his tray and said "you should eat some of your grits. You haven't even touched them!" And Fintan said "yes I have," then stuck his finger in the bowl and held it up, "see?"

Then at lunchtime today he was eating his pasta and corn and he stopped and looked around for a moment and announced, "I need a bowl full of mush!" and I said "Oh you do, do you? And what about a quiet old lady whispering hush?" He nodded and gave me a toothy smile.

Cheap date

Fintan gives me the same answer every time I ask him what he would like Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas this year:

A candy cane!

I think Santa can totally do that.

Now where are my 10,000 men?

This morning Fintan put on his bicycle helmet and announced, "I'm the Grand Old Duke of York".

From a tree

Tonight while both boys were having a bath and I was shampooing Coen's hair, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Fintan was holding something small and brown in one hand. Afraid of what it might be I immediately stopped soaping and turned toward him to have a closer look.

Me: Fintan what is that?
Fintan: It's a hickory dickory nut.
Me: (Taking it and seeing that it is, indeed, a hickory nut hull) Well where did that come from?
Fintan: From a tree.

Star phone

Tonight while changing Fintan's diaper in preparation for bedtime he grabbed a large silver star that Pat brought home from work and held it up to his ear.

Fintan: "I hear something."
Me: "What do you hear?"
Fintan: "Santa Claus!"

Magic

After Fintan finished his dinner tonight I left him strapped in his booster seat and ran upstairs to quickly get things ready for bath time (lay out the towels, get the baby bath in the tub, grab pajamas for both boys and start the water warming). When I came back down just minutes later to get them both I noticed that Fintan had somehow managed to move himself, his booster and the chair it's attached to two feet to the right and turn it sideways.

I asked "How did you do that?!"

His answer: "Magic."

I looked at Coen next, but he wasn't telling. Boys.

The milk takes the cheese

Yet another Fintan funny, from tonight after his jammies were on and it was time to read books:

Me: "I'm going to get the milk."

Fintan (singing): "We're going to get the milk! We're going to get the milk! Hi ho the derry oh, we're going to get the milk. (I start laughing so he continues) "The milk takes the cheese! The milk takes the cheese! Hi Ho the derry oh the milk takes the cheese."

Truly I think Fintan takes the cheese.

Baking in the bathtub

Tonight in the bath:

Fintan: "I need three cups of water (pours it from his inverted drum into his hair-rinsing scoop) one, two, three, four! That's just enough. Now I'll stir it all up. I'm stirring it all up, Mommy!"

Me: "Good job! You're doing a great job stirring, sweetie."

Fintan: "Just a little more water. There now it's full, Mommy. Now I stir it all up. Stir it all up."

Me: "Oh, that looks really good, Fintan! What are you making?"

Fintan: "Toast."