Let it snow
Jan 9, 2012 Family life
It took me a while to realize what my daughter was saying, partly because it didn’t sound much like the original and partly because Christmas is now a thing of the past. But regardless of the date on the calendar, Zak has been singing Let it Snow. I think he sings it year round.
Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since there’s no place to go
And my daughter chimes in:
Leio! Leio!
We should really tape some of that stuff before she grows out of it. A music lover like she is, who knows, maybe some day she’ll be a stinking rich recording artist and those videos will provide us with a large retirement fund.
Or maybe when we’re 80 we’ll be glad to watch those videos on the old, old laptop computer we’ll have kept way past when the technology changes to make sure we could watch those old 2-D, non HD “videos”. If you can still find a plug in those days.
Either way, it would be worth it.
Growing up
Jan 6, 2012 Family life
My son is growing up. I just noticed yesterday that he doesn’t say to-food anymore. He has learned that the proper word is tofu. I’ll miss it.
My friend was also telling me recently that her son has stopped saying “coote” instead of “cute” – as in “[my daughter] is the cootest baby in the world mama, I hope she never grows up so she’s always so coote”. Yeah, he has a bit of a crush on her. But he’s almost 6 and she’s 1. So they’re not allowed to date until she’s 18. – and she misses the cooteness too.
Anyway, all that to say that eating tofu last night made me realize how little time I have left before my son is all grown up and doesn’t say funny stuff anymore. I have to remember to write them down so I can savour them for years to come – and tell his future girlfriend.
Dinosaur porn
Jan 5, 2012 Family life
I probably shouldn’t write that post – God knows who’s going to end up on my blog after that searching for all sorts of crazy porn-related stuff! But it was funny. So here goes the story.
Yesterday morning, we were having muffins at breakfast when my daughter suddenly started roaring while moving her arms like a robot.
- You’re a dinosaur?, asked Zak.
She nodded.
- You’re a muffinosaurus, he responded. Then he tried to find a way to shorten it.
- You’re a muffosaurus.
I looked up from my muffin, trying not to laugh too openly…
- No, that one is not going to work, I said, and Zak stopped in his tracks.
But by then our son had picked up where we left off, oblivious to our unfortunate puns.
- She’s a fartosaurus (yup, he’s four!). A spitosaurus. A sushisorus. A phallosaurus.
I looked up again. Zak was laughing.
It reminded me of that little application that made the rounds for a while: enter your name and find out your porn star name. Well, I don’t know about mine, but I just found two great porn names for dinosaurs: muffosaurus and phallosaurus. And it’s all the kids’ fault!
Tired child
Dec 22, 2011 Family life
We went to Stanley Park last night to take the Christmas train and see the Bright lights. We had a blast, and we stopped for a slice of pizza on the way home. It was pretty late by the time we put the kids to bed: 8:30. Of course, they didn’t wake up any later than usual, quite the contrary. My son was up about half an hour earlier than usual, and the first thing I heard from him was a whiny complaint:
- My pants were clean and now they’re not there anymore.
Yup, I grabbed their laundry when I put them to bed last night and apparently I also grabbed his pants which he claims were still clean. I patiently explained that he had other pants he could wear. To which he responded, in tears:
- But there was my snot cloth in my pocket!
My son was upset because the washcloth he had been using as a handkerchief had been put in the laundry… You think he was tired?
So fast
Dec 7, 2011 Family life
On Monday, I saw my friend’s child, the one who is dying of cancer… As I mentioned in my last update, it had been a while, but even compared to what I had been told of the state of the child by others, the situation was far worse than I could have imagined. In fact, the family left yesterday for Canuck Place, a pediatric palliative care hospice, and they don’t expect to come back with that child. It’s the place where terminally ill children go to die.
I had a chance to say goodbye and I will treasure that chance forever, even though I wish there had not been this 2-month period during which I didn’t see them at all. The child is now in bed, not able to see anymore, and we don’t know for sure what the awareness level is, but there is no obvious reaction to anything. It was really sad to see, but at the same time the child still looked “normal”, was not obviously emaciated, and I’m glad my son had a chance to say goodbye.
He went back yesterday and spent an hour and a half reading stories with his friend. The mom curled up with her child and fell asleep (much needed, I’m sure) while Zak read stories to the four kids (the sick child, the little brother and our two happy, healthy, LUCKY children). It sounds like it was a nice, peaceful moment that will help both father and son to come to terms with the situation.
We will try to go visit them at Canuck Place, but we don’t know how long they will be there for and we don’t know if it’s going to work. We don’t want to intrude. But we did want to have a chance to say goodbye, and to give that chance to our son. He refused to hold hands or kiss his friend (him who is usually all about showing affection), but it’s ok. It is a weird situation for him. At least, he wanted to go back and read to his friend. And I think seeing the child like that, at the end of life, will be good for him since the last time we had seen them the child was still walking and aware of everything. I didn’t want my son to think you can go from that to being dead all of a sudden.
I know, it does happen. But I don’t need him to worry about it just now.
So here we are, pondering how fast a child can go from running around (albeit in a less coordinated fashion than usual) just after a diagnosis four and a half months ago to being in bed, blind and unaware or at least unresponsive. We always knew that a short-term death was unavoidable, but being face-to-face with it is still hard.
Knock-knock jokes
Dec 2, 2011 Family life
My 4-year-old son wanted to tell knock-knock jokes this morning. But he doesn’t quite get it yet. First, he asked me to say knock-knock. Not being English, I didn’t think twice:
- Knock! Knock!
- Who’s there?
- … Hem, isn’t it you who’s supposed to be telling the joke?
- Knock! Knock!
- Who’s there?
- Orange!
- Orange who?
- Orangen’t you glad I didn’t say banana?
That was his best one. The only one I remember because the other ones didn’t really make any sense. But then his little sister wanted to imitate him:
- Knock! Knock!
- Who’s there?
- Hello!, says the baby while making the gesture of picking up a phone.
She understands a lot more than we give her credit for!
