Thursday, January 26, 2012


Tomorrow is the one hundredth day of school. I know this fact because David told me almost as soon as he got off of the bus. It was the very first time that David has given me an unsolicited tidbit of information about school. "We having a PARTY," he said with excitement.

I also know because the teacher sent a note home a few days ago. The assignment was to count out 100 items with your child and send them to school in a Ziploc. Since David had already mentioned the event, I asked what he wanted to take to school. Cheerios? Pennies? Goldfish?

Not surprisingly, David chose Goldfish, a staple in his diet. He had no interest in counting them with me, however. When Michael came home, I asked him to try to get David interested in his homework. I heard him try to engage David several times, but I later noticed that Michael was sitting alone at the table, counting away.

David had already eaten by the time we sat down to dinner and I was vaguely aware that he was digging through the toy chest, pulling out some oldies but goodies—things that he hasn't played with in awhile, but have always been favorites. There were the plastic fried eggs, the powder puff from my pressed powder, the water bottle tops that he arranges like a stoplight, along with planes, trains and automobiles.

He was arranging his chosen items carefully on his trampoline. And then I heard him say, "And that makes sixty." I watched as he went back for item number sixty-one, then sixty-two and sixty-three before I realized.

For the past forty minutes, David had been working on counting out his 100 items. And he stayed with it until he got to the magic number 100.

I know some of you are wondering, did David really have 100 toys on his trampoline? I have to say in all honesty that I don't know. I lost count.


Monday, January 23, 2012


Apparently, David is not the only member of our household who needs to work on articulation.

It would seem that I did not articulate, ennunciate, or otherwise make myself clear over the weekend as David and I looked at the calendar and discussed the upcoming week.

To David, there is a big difference between "SHOW AND TELL," the Kindergarten blue table's Monday activity, for which David has very little regard and "HOTEL," home of elevators and swimming pools.

I had a disappointed boy this morning as we were packing backpacks, not bags.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Reading Lesson

I am sorry to admit that, for a variety of reasons too boring to outline, I got out of the habit of reading with David over the Christmas break.

This week saw our full fledged return to the regular routine, which frankly I have been anticipating as much as David. On Wednesday, Andrew had choir practice at church. David knows the drill. We ride the elevator one time, and then he has to read me a book. Ride and then read. Ride and then read. Apply, lather, rinse repeat for the entire half hour choir practice. It is truly amazing how many level A readers you can rip through in that amount of time.

David was excited about riding the elevators. But the reading? Not so much.

We sat down with the first book, a gripping autobiographical account entitled I Can See. For some reason, the font used for the book had the capital "I" with just the straight line up and down, no cross lines at the top and bottom, looking suspiciously like a lower case "L." I asked David to read the title. "L can see," he said.

I corrected him and turned the page. "L can see three…" he said and then there was a long pause. "L can see three," he continued "BUH-NUB."

"I can see three bowls," I offered and turned the page.

"L can see three BUH-NUB," David continued, smiling.

On each page, he read the "I" as an "L" and each time he encountered a word he did not know, he read it as "buh-nub." He was not interested in sounding out the words. He was not willing to make any attempt, but rather more interested in the speed with which he could get back to pressing the elevator button.

Buh-nub. Now, that is a new one. I have not previously encountered that word in David's vocabulary, but I do believe the David dictionary might define it as a cross between "bah humbug" and "go pound sand."

Thursday, January 19, 2012

The Mysterious Mitten Man

All winter, we have been working to get David to wear his hat and gloves.  All winter, David has opted instead to pull up the hood of his coat and alternately slip his hands into his pockets or up into the arms of his coat.

I usually am able to break the ice, so to speak, the first time I let David play in the snow.  It is always a struggle, but I do not let him go out into the wintery wonderland until he has a hat and gloves on and he has to come back inside the minute he takes anything off.  For some reason, he is then usually agreeable to wearing his winter gear until spring comes and we have to reverse the process, weaning him from the unneeded outer-wear.

It has been an unusually temperate winter and we missed the one snowfall that was playable, consequently David has made it into January without regularly sporting a hat or gloves.  So, imagine my surprise when he let me help him into his mittens as he was playing outside over the weekend.  He had been outside for about ten minutes, when I saw him rubbing his hands together and offered—for the hundredth time—a pair of gloves or mittens.

I was ecstatic and ran to grab the camera.  David, however, was not amused and did not want to be photographed mitten clad.  Maybe, David wants to control his image, which does not include the wearing of gloves or mittens.  Perhaps, he thought he could sell a rare mitten shot to the tabloids.  I should have left him alone, but I pursued him paparazzi-style in an attempt to document this milestone.

Boy, he is fast.

I think I am being scolded.  Leave me alone…blah, blah, blah…personal privacy…blah, blah, blah…call the police…blah, blah, blah…private property.

Ah, there it is.

As it is David’s oath to keep life interesting, I must report that the high temperature today is not supposed to make it out of the teens with wind chills in the negative numbers.  In the interest of full disclosure, I must also report that David marched out to the bus, hood up and hands pulled up into the arms of his coat.  Anyone know how many days until the first day of spring?

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Dietary Deception

I have tried to phrase this in the most nurturing, motherly, encouraging way that I can, but the best I seem to be able to do is LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE.

Here is the paper plate that I pulled from David's backpack a few days ago.

In the event that it is somewhat hard to discern from this picture, here are the items that David chose to fill his plate and placed under the heading "I like to eat."

Fruit of some indeterminate variety looking somewhat similar to apples, but that do not really appear to be apples.
Canned sliced peaches
Totino's Pepperoni Pizza Rolls
M&M's, both original and peanut
Peppers in almost every color of the rainbow known to peppers
And, my personal favorite, store brand pinto beans

As I may have mentioned here previously, David is an extremely picky eater. There is not a single thing pictured on his plate that he will eat. Not the hamburger. Not the fruit. Or the vegetables. Not the pinto beans, or legumes of any variety, for that matter. Not even the candy.

While David did manage to pick a pretty well rounded imaginary diet for his paper plate, in reality, to say that I worry about his diet is a gross understatement.

So, in the most loving way that I can muster, I must repeat.