Deep Thoughts, by Declan

"I tried to smell the candle, but I burned my nose instead."

"I can't lick my elbow, but I CAN lick my knee!"

Here's how things work in our house:

The boys are in their room.  The door opens and Declan comes walking down the hallway, singing to himself.  Chris walks into the living room and looks down the hallway and says in this exasperated voice, "Why are you naked? Where are your clothes?"  (FYI he wasn't naked, he at least had underwear on.)  Declan says, "I just like it."  Chris says, "Go back into your room and at least put some pants on.  Geez."

I hear Declan walking back down the hallway and as their bedroom door is closing he says to Logan, "I got to eleven steps before they sent me back."

Nine. Fine. Sign. Wine. Line. Shine.

Guess who is 9 today?!  IT'S LOGAN!  And what do you do when your nine year old wants pigs in a blanket, mashed potatoes, and peas for his birthday dinner?  You give him the best damn pigs in blankets, potatoes, and peas ever.

This is my baby.  Except he's not such a baby anymore.  At the doctor's office about a month ago, he weighed in at 98 lbs. and 4'10".  Other things that have changed in nine years: he has more hair that's a lot more blonde and a lot less red, he has bigger teeth, he's a lot better at communicating, he doesn't cry nearly as much or often.

I love this kid.  And I really, really *like* him.  He's good, amusing company to have around.  He's compassionate and a soft, gentle kind of soul.  He's a reader to the core and it's so fun to be able to give him books that we love to read and talk about them with him.  Logan is a fantastic big brother and he generally cares more about making things fair and happy for everyone than making sure he gets what he wants.  Higlet 2 has a tendency to take advantage of that, so part of parenting Logan is also teaching him to be assertive and not allow himself to be walked all over.

Logan is also an absent-minded, disorganized soul.  Today he brought home a paper from school on which the kids were supposed to write something they were going to do to improve themselves.  Logan's said, "I will try to be WAY MORE ORGANIZED."  I looked at him and said that was an excellent goal.  He pointed at the word "try" and said, "Please make a note of that."  I laughed and asked him if he knew Yoda's famous saying - Do or do not.  There is no try.  Logan, in his typically humorous smartassery of late, responded with, "Well I'm not Yoda, so I don't follow that philosophy."  Can't argue with that!

Drama + Comedy

You know those theatrical masks with the faces of drama and comedy?  Sometimes I feel like I'm living with those masks and their names are Declan and Logan.

Drama:
This morning Declan came out of his room dressed for school in a red shirt, orange shorts, and his shoes that have yellow accents on them.  Before I could open my mouth to protest the matching job, he says in his super-dramatic-movie-voice, "Do you, Mother, know what I have named this outfit?"  My mouth hung open and I just shook my head in the negative, as my mind was processing all at once the fact that he named his outfit, the fact that he called me Mother, and the syntax of the question he asked.  "It is called Fire: God of Dragons.  I'm dressed all in warm colors and it's named after a character I made up who is also called Fire: God of Dragons and while I wear these clothes, I be that character."  Well, ok.  Who could ruin that kind of method acting with the petty social norm of colors that do and do not go together in clothing form?

Comedy:
Logan has been sleeping in the spare bedroom lately because it contains the most comfortable bed in the house, and his bed is one of the two most painfully uncomfortable beds in the house.  The bunk beds Logan and Declan have are designed for smaller children and both the boys are quickly outgrowing the "support" these beds provide.  It's been especially uncomfortable for Logan lately, to the point that he has begged to sleep on the couch or the recliner or in our bed or basically anywhere but his own bed.  So we've given him the spare bedroom until we can manage to get them new beds.

Anyway, in the spare bedroom we have the charger for the PlayStation controllers and one of those was charging overnight.  This morning, Chris got up and was making his rounds through the house before hassling the boys out of bed.  As he walked into the living room, the PlayStation turned on and woke the TV up.  He stood there, wondering how the hell.... and watched as the PlayStation signed itself into one of the profiles.  Before Chris could come running to me in terror of the haunted living room, Logan gave himself away with the giggling coming from his room.  He apparently laid in wait until he heard someone walking down the hallway to play his little trick.  He also love to sneak one of our phones away and text the other with messages like I LIKE FARTS and POOPYPOOPYPOOPY.

So yeah...one prankster, one method actor.  I love it.

It's that time of year again...

The boys left for their annual trip to Rhode Island.  They'll be gone five (FIVE!) weeks.  :(  It's eerily quiet in the house.  The good news is at the end of it, Chris and I will go pick them up this time.  I'm looking forward to a little visit out there.

They're Growing Up?

The boys and I were chit-chatting recently and in the midst of our conversation I said I had to pee and I'd be right back.  I stepped into the bathroom and realized there was no toilet paper.  So I turned back around and told the kids I needed to get some.  Logan said, "Why?  You just said you have to pee."  I looked at him and explained that girls use toilet paper when they pee and when they poop.  The kids' eyes got real wide and they burst into laughter.  I heard them laughing all the way down the hallway into my bedroom.  (When I told Ed about this, he said, "I'm glad they know that already because I didn't learn it until - no joke - 1998.")

Tonight, the Logan and Declan had a fun little game of creative name-calling.  They would combine an animal with a body part and sling these fascinating combinations at each other, followed by giggles galore.  "Mr. Elephant Face!" "Mr. Dog Butt!"  "Mrs. Cow Brain!"  Pretty standard 7-8 year old stuff.  Until... "Miss Pussy Lips!"  [insert record scratch]  I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the floor.  I looked at Chris to see him immediately turn a 180 so he wasn't facing the kids, his face scrunched up in hysterics.  It took a minute of choking back laughter before we could clear the air and request that particular one not be repeated.

Not an hour after, at dinner, Logan was deep in thought.  I asked him what was on his mind.  Some hemming-and-hawing later, he said he had been thinking about how to say bad words in Pig Latin.  Oh-so-helpful Chris: "Like it-shay?"  Logan, excitedly: "Yeah!  That's the one!"

So.  I've talked with Chris and Ed, and between nipply conversation from a few days ago, the hilarious discovery of female toilet paper needs, the ahem cat lips, and sigh swearing in Pig Latin, it's been decided that it's time for the boys to get a talk.  Not just any talk.  The talk.

This should be fun.

Parts is Parts.

One of the things Chris planted in the garden this year is sunflowers.  The other day, he and the boys were out surveying the land as they do sometimes, and Chris was showing them what was planted where.  Somehow they got on the topic of sunflower height and I'm not exactly sure how the conversation went, but I know it ended when Logan measured across his chest and said, "So they'll grow to be about as tall as my boobs."

Chris informed me of this little tidbit as we were going to bed last night.  I asked if Logan was saying it as a joke or if he was being serious.  Chris shrugged and said something along the lines of, "Well, he wasn't smiling."  I suggested we clarify this particular bit of Logan's anatomical confusion so he doesn't go say something to his friends at school about his boobs.  Chris chose tonight with the family gathered around the dinner table as the perfect moment for the discussion.  It went a little something like this:

Chris (totally out of the blue, by the way): You know, boys don't have boobs.  That's really kind of a girl thing.

Logan: What?

Chris: When we were talking about sunflowers and you said they'd grow up to your boobs?  Yeah, boys don't have boobs.

Logan: Well what do they have?

Me: It's just called your chest.

Logan: No, those things on my chest.

Me: Oh.  [Pause.]  Those are nipples.

(As I'm choking the word nipple out, I look over the table to see Declan pulling the neck of his shirt down to show me his nipple, just to clear up what part Logan was asking about.)

Me: Yep.  That's a nipple.

Logan: So the sunflowers will grow to be as high as my nipples.

Chris and Me: Just say chest.

Declan: So how high on me will they grow?

Logan: I guess that depends on what part of you is as tall as my nipples.

At this point, both the boys stand up and do some measuring as Chris and I try to contain our giggling.  We asked them to sit down and finish eating dinner and let's talk about something else, please.

As Declan was sinking back into his seat, he said very quietly, "Nipple."

(In case anyone's wondering, Declan's shoulders are Logan's nipple height.)