Premeditated aggravated assault

This is a conversation we had with Matthew last night right before bed:

WE: Tomorrow you go to daycare buddy
HE: Karen’s house?
WE: You can play with all your friend
HE: And fight with Alexander

The power struggle between my son and Alexander dates back to when Matthew was in love with Alexander’s mother. Things never recovered after that relationship went sour. Now days the boys copy each other no matter what the other is doing and are at constant verbal odds. Last week when mommy was having coffee at Karen’s house, Matthew ran over and out of the blue gave her a hug then went back to playing. Few seconds later Alexander stood up looked at Chrissy and ran over and gave her a hug too. I guess he figured that would show him. Silly silly little boys.

Music critic

My son loves music. Actually only music from the Shrek sound track. Sometimes daddy gets really tired of listening to it over and over and over and over, so I turn on the radio. A few weeks back that new crappy Christina Agulera song “candyman” came on. If you haven’t heard it, my feeling about it are clearly noted in the previous sentence. My son was sitting in the backseat just chill’in, it came on, it played for a few min then he uttered to me: “Daddy I want to listen to something else”. Usually he says he wants to listen to Shrek. This time is was “something else” basically ANYTHING else. I agreed with him and changed the station promptly.

Pooh almighty

I was changing my daughter whom had shit completely up and out the top of both the front and back of her diaper. No big deal, Matthew had done this before and I was prepared. Or was I? I undid the straps, and peeled the back of her diaper off her butt like I was opening a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was nasty. So incredibly nasty and smelly and gross the I dry heaved. OK time to stop, take a rest and concentrate on NOT barfing. “Shmear!!! You need to take over” So she came and did it. I went into to garage when I immediately threw up. Half digested French fried flew. Yuk, I haven’t thrown up for like 10 years, leave it to my daughter to make me. So as I’m in the garage trying to catch my breath between vomits, my son is knocking on the door asking me all sorts of stupid questions. This is not so good when you’re trying to concentrate on NOT throwing up. So I wiped my chin and decided it would be quieter out on the back deck plus the fresh -20 air would help too. So I went. Now I’m standing in 3ft of snow in my socks, still trying NOT to throw up a fifth time. My memory failed me, it flashed an image of the pooh, so I blew again. Then again and again. Finally I got everything under control. Went back inside where I found a nicely cleaned and well scented Maya smiling at me and mommy with tears of laughter still in here eyes.

What a terrible experience. No good came of this. A few days ago Matthew barfed on the carpet. I ran to his aid but was unable to help as I started to dry heave. As I sit writing this sentence it’s making me queasy.. I better stop. Story told. Let move on with our lives.

A collection of words

All the funny things Matthew now does are verbal. Not as fun as when I could take a picture of him doing something funny. What this means is I have to spend more time writing. Here’s a few:

Matthews playing with his toys in the kitchen as usual. Something doesn’t go his way and he blurts out a loud “D’oh!”

The other night, he’s playing in the basement. The washing machine come on and scares the shit out of him, he runs into the other room with tears in his eye yelling “I have to go upstairs!” Poor little guy. I hugged him and took him into the washing room and showed him the source of the scary sound.

Speaking of fear, Maya, is terrified of men. ALL men, except me and grandpa #1. Grandpa #2, Roger, anyone else NO WAY MAN! She’s crawling backwards these days. If she crawls too close to one of these chaps she’ll stop and cry until someone in her preferred circle picks her up.

Lastly, Matthew asked for food the other day. But he also wanted to watch Wallace and Gromit. So he made a decision and this is how it went. Scene: Mommy and Matthew both standing in the kitchen: “Mommy you stay here and make me macaroni, I go downstairs and watch Wallace and Gromit OK?”