Star Wars

Wesley and a group of his friends were playing at the park. When I walked over, they told me they were playing Star Wars. Knowing that Wesley has absolutely no idea what Star Wars is, I found that interesting. His friend Jude had assigned everyone a character to play. Each boy excitedly told me who he was playing, and then Wesley said, "Jude, who am I again. Oh yeah, I'm Luke Skywalker, Mommy." I guess boys will be boys. Let it begin...

Early Retirement

When I went back to working full-time, Wesley adjusted pretty well, but he did voice some complaints. Almost every night, he asks me if I'm going to be home tomorrow. When he questions why I have to work, I try to explain how we need money to pay for everyday things like our house and food. Ever the problem-solver, Wesley said, "Mommy, why don't we just have someone work for us?" After clarifying that he wasn't suggesting a butler or personal chef, I asked how that arrangement would work. He thought they could just go to work, then give us the money while Marc and I stayed home. I laughed and said I didn't think we would find anyone to take us up on that offer. A few weeks later, my grandmother was visiting us. Somehow, Wesley ended up asking her what her job was. She has been retired for a number of years. Of course, my inquisitive five year old asked what retirement was. You should have seen the light in his eyes when I explained that someone could work for a long time, then stop working and continue getting a pay check. I knew exactly what he would say: "Mommy, why don't you just retire?!" If only it were that easy! I decided to hold off for now on a conversation about social security.

Let's Go Fly a Kite

Well, I realize that we are no longer enjoying kite-flying weather in Nashville, but these videos were trapped on my phone until today, thus the seasonal delay. Ah, the joys of childhood!

(I tried to put all four videos together, but One True Media would not cooperate with the file format. Oh well. They are short...maybe better in progression.)

A trip to the symphony

A few weeks ago, Wesley was in attendance at his first concert at the Schermerhorn Symphony center. The Nashville Choir produces a show there once a year, and this year Micheal W. Smith and multiple other big names were involved in the show. John, Marc's uncle, very generously gave us 2 box seats, but we didn't have time to find a babysitter, so after some deliberation, Wesley went to the show (which ended far after his bedtime). When they got home, I asked him how it was, and his reply was "Wonderful." Of course, his favorite part was all the instruments in the orchestra, which he had a front row seat to from their box over the left part of the stage! Later, while regaling friends with details from the concert, Marc mentioned that their box was right across from Franklin Graham and Max Lucado. In excitement, Wesley echoed, "Yeah, Max the Potato was there!" What a night to remember!

Little Drummer Boy

Last week, I awoke at 6:40am to the sound of banging. It was very rhythmic and quite confusing at such an early hour. Was it the dishwasher? Someone knocking at the door? It stopped, then started again, so I got out of bed to investigate. Once my head was less foggy and it became clear that it was coming from upstairs, I rushed to Wesley's room and found this:He had set up his own percussion station complete with a "cymbal," a "tinger" (the harmonica) and a "tapper" (the TV remote). He was drumming away, completely oblivious that anyone else in the house would be disturbed. Cate, whose room is across the hall from his, slept right through it. I calmly asked him to wait until normal business hours to resume his playing, which, by the way, was not half bad.

Sense of Accomplishment

Today, I discovered that Wesley had re-folded one of his shirts and put it away. Most of his clothes are hanging, and we have been working on the skill it takes to put a shirt on the hanger, but completely unprompted, he folded this shirt, and did a pretty good job at that! I commended him for his accomplishment, and this was his response: "I'm very talented. I'm good at everything. I'm a one man show." While I seek to instill self-confidence, that seemed like a little much!! I guess part of the quote was borrowed from Lightning McQueen in the Cars movie. A short conversation about pride and arrogance (complete with definitions!) followed. When I told Wesley that pride was thinking more of yourself than you should, he replied, "Oh, like Nebuchadnezzar." Precisely! Lightning McQueen and Nebuchadnezzar...two important stories that show that pride comes before the fall!

King of the Sunday School Class

I heard an interesting tale from Wesley's Sunday school teacher the other day. They were studying the story of Esther. One of the reasons I love our church so much is that they don't gloss over parts of the Bible, even from a young age. (Which made for an interesting conversation when Wesley asked me when God was going to turn Mill Creek into blood after studying the plagues in Egypt.) They covered the entire story of Esther, from the King selecting her from among all the maidens to her part in obeying God and saving her people, the Jews. Wesley and some of his girl friends decided to re-enact the story during play time. Despite the emphasis of the teaching being on God's sovereignty, grace and love, it seems that the beauty pageant that took place in the story had a large impact. Kristi told me that Wesley lined up 3 or 4 of the girls, who were more than happy to pose and be "pretty," and said to them, with his finger to his chin, "Hmmm. Who will I pick to be my wife?" I'm afraid he may be getting a big head. :) What a character!

Un, Deux, Trois

In case I haven't mentioned it before, we spend a lot of time at the grocery store. Between my inability to make a list to remember everything in one trip, two chow-hound children eating us out of house and home, and our general enjoyment of shopping for fresh ingredients for dinner, we frequent the same Publix almost twice a week. Consequently, the delightful employees there know who we are. Sarah is our very favorite bagger. She is adorable and shiny-happy. She always interacts with the kids, and the other day, she asked Wesley to count our re-usable grocery bags as he handed them to her. Marc said her mouth fell open when he counted them in French. When Marc's dad was here a few months ago, he taught him to count to 10 in French. That means he now knows how to count to 10 in 3 languages (French, Spanish and English...next week, maybe German!). Also, in English, he can count to 20 by 2's. What a show-off!

Wall-E

Wesley went to see his first movie in the movie theater: Wall-E. Well, I guess technically, it was the second attempt. The first time we went to see was Cars (now, one of his favorite movies), but we had to abort the mission due to talking (imagine that!). This time, he and Marc went together as part of a special father-son weekend. Marc bought a big tub of popcorn and soda to add icing to the cake. They both LOVED the movie, and Wesley has started pretending to be a robot. After watching Mr. Roger's Neighborhood this morning, he now has aspirations to build a robot like the factory they visited on the show. Sounds like a good father-son project!

Foreign flair

We went to Star Bagel for breakfast this morning. Wesley was helping me get napkins and a utensil for Catelynn, and he grabbed a coffee stir and said, "Mommy, I want to help feed her with this pork chop." He meant chop stick. It sounded like a fun idea, and Cate was not at all opposed to eating from pork chop stick.

Priorities

Last night at bedtime, Wesley told me that he loved me more than his friends. A very sweet sentiment coming from such a social boy. Then he told me that he loved me more than cake. Random, but impressive. I can appreciate that kind of dedication. Then to put the "icing" on the love-fest, he said, "But, Mommy, I don't love you more than God, because we should love God more than anything else." That is some priority list! Praise God.

Calling a Horse a Horse: The story of Poo-ness

During bath time the other day, I decided it was time to start using the proper name for Wesley's "front bottom." When I told Wesley it was really called a penis, he said, "Okay. What is the real name for my bottom in the back?" I told him that was really just called a bottom. He said, "Oh. I think it should be called a poo-ness." I laughed out loud and started writing this post in my head. :)

Or maybe a director?

I love to see Wesley develop his passions and interests. The short list so far includes: music, instruments, drawing, photography, and now video. He seems to have a flair for the arts. Check out these videos he shot the other day.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Wagon's Eye View

During one of the beautiful days we have enjoyed lately, I took Wesley and Catelynn for a wagon ride. Of course, I grabbed the camera to capture a few shots for posterity (it was Cate's first real ride...she is positively TOO big). When I finished, Wesley asked if he could take pictures as we walked. He knows how to use our camera and is always very careful, so I allowed it. Here are some highlights from the 215!! pictures he shot on two different trips.
I think he may have a gift. :)

Dental hygeine

On a recent trip to Florida, we were eating barbecue at Rib City with my family. A woman who knew my aunt came over and started talking to us. Toward the end of the conversation, Wesley politely said, "Excuse me, do you have any floss? I have some meat stuck in my teeth." Sadly, she didn't. I hate it when that happens.

Kid Fears

Wesley had been grilling me with questions about snakes: Where do they live? What do they eat? How do they crawl? I am not an avid lover of snakes and my knowledge is limited, so we headed to the library for a book. I was apprehensive when the subject of venom and swallowing live prey came up, but he seemed to take it in stride. There was one picture of a boa squeezing a opossum, and Wesley asked me if that was his baby he was hugging. That should have been the red flag. The next night, around 9:30, Wesley bolted from his room and said with terror and near tears, "Mommy, there is a snake in my room!" I investigated the situation, finding no snake, but a problematic shadow from the nightlight. He slept in my bed for one night, and an alternate light source is being used until a more suitable position can be found for "the bug light" (his usual nightlight). The snake book has been returned to the library. This week we are reading about bees, who, as it turns out, die after they sting a mammal because it tears out part of their innards. Wish me luck!

Craft Corner

When my mom came to visit before Christmas, she suggested to Wesley that they might do a project together while she was here. "What kind of project, Mimi?" Wesley asked. She told him maybe they could make some Christmas ornaments. "But, Mimi, why? They already have Christmas ornaments at Target." I guess he gets that from his mother. :)

Separation Anxiety

Marc has been away for almost six months. Sure, he has been home on an occasional weekend and for 12 days at Christmas (yes, I was counting), but it has been a long haul. And I'm not the only one feeling the strain. Wesley asked him on the phone today when the Army was going to let him come home. Marc assured him he would be back as soon as possible. "Daddy, could you just say to them that you have a little child at home who likes to play with you? Then maybe they will let you come home faster." [tear] That is love.

Christmas the Whole Year Through!

Over Christmas, Wesley discovered two new movies (well, new to him, anyway): The Polar Express and Charlie Brown Christmas. Thanks to the magic of Tivo, he has enjoyed watching them over and over throughout the month of January and into February! The other day, he came downstairs wearing a red Folgers coffee "bucket" on his head and holding a plastic popcorn bag (a conductors hat and lamp). He told me I had to be the little boy that did not rustle the sheets and he was the conductor. When he said, "All aboard!", I quickly responded, "Where are we going?" (Hey, I've been watching the movie too.) "Why to the North Pole, of course!" Wesley quoted.
He also told Catelynn the other day, "I am not your sweet baboo!" Classic!

That's all I have to say about that

Wesley found this at a construction site. He decided it was a snake and named it Winky. Wink for short. That's all I have to say about that.

Can I have the definition, please?

At church yesterday, Jason, the Children's Pastor, came up to me and said, "Michelle, I've got another one for your blog." While they were teaching catechisms, Barbara asked the kids if they knew what the word relationship meant. Wesley raised his hand and answered, "When you're connected to someone." At this point, I don't know why I'm still surprised.

Conversations overheard from here to there

While we are driving in the car, I am Wesley's captive audience for a constant stream of conversation. If you were a fly on the car seat, here is the exchange you would have heard on one particular adventure:

Wesley: Mommy, how do you drive a motorcycle? (as we pass a motorcycle on the road)
Me: Um, kind of like a bike. Only you don't use your feet. You drive with your hands.
W: When will I be able to drive a motorcycle?
Me: (the day after never...I'm an ICU nurse, are you kidding) Well, you have to be old enough to drive, so not until you are AT LEAST 16.
W: But I want to drive one before that. I want to drive in a motorcycle with a pocket [sidecar].
Me: Well, who's going to drive the motorcycle while you are in the pocket?
W: Daddy. (good choice!) Or maybe you could. (ooo...I'm going to pass.)
Me: But where will we put Catelynn?
W: She can be in the pocket by my feet
Me: (laughing) That sounds like a stinky seat. Your feet are stinky.
W: Mommy, these brown shoes aren't stinky, so I will just always wear these when I'm in the pocket. (such a little problem solver!) So, when can we buy a motorcycle?

on a previous rant:
Wesley: Mommy, when are we EVER going to drive a minivan?
Me: Wesley, I really don't want to drive a minivan. I like my Jeep.
W: Maybe we could trade Daddy's car, and he can drive the minivan. (again, great problem solving!)
Me: I don't think Daddy will like that idea. He wants to keep his car, too. Why do you want to drive a minivan?
W: I want there to be a seat for everyone in our family.
Me: Well, we are only missing Daddy, and he would sit up here by me.
W: But what about the seat by Cate?
Me: See?! We have too many seats already!
W: But, Mommy, I really want to have an automatic door. (ah, the heart of the matter. Wesley's good friend Christopher and his family just got a minivan--with automatic doors. So cool. He is filled with envy!)
Me: Wesley, I open your door automatically all the time. :)
W: But I want there to be a button, and I can do it myself.
Me: Buddy, I'm afraid it just isn't going to happen.
W: (dejectedly) Okay. Well, when are we going to ride in Christopher's minivan again?

Conclusion: If Wesley had the choice in the matter, I would drive a motorcycle with two kids in a sidecar or a minivan with room for seven! Think I'll stick with the Liberty!

Who you gonna call?

Wesley wakes up REALLY early in the morning. To preserve my sanity and an extra hour or so of sleep, I gave him a digital clock and told him he could not come out of his room until it was 7:00AM. I am now awakened every morning promptly at 7:03 (or thereabouts) by Wesley proclaiming, "Mommy, it's a 7 on my clock. Time to get up!" On a recent trip to Indiana, we were staying with Marty, and Wesley requested a clock for his bed (oops, I may have created a monster). The best we could come up with was her cell phone set to silent. The first night, all went well. We even got to sleep in until 8:00 (I love eastern time!). The second night, Allison called the house around 11pm and asked if we had called her. Neither Marty nor I had called, but Allison had two missed calls from Marty's cell phone! I marched into the room where Wesley was sleeping only to find the glow of the cell phone light and him still awake. I confiscated the cell phone and found that he had made a total of 17 calls, all of them less than 30 seconds. In addition to Allison, other recipients were from the address book, speed dials, and various random number combinations (thankfully, none of them 911!). How is a mother supposed to keep a straight face in that situation? :)

Art appreciation

At the museum, we saw a nude statue. Wesley astutely observed that the subject was female because she had "feeders."

Picasso?

Wesley drew this while he was watching The Laurie Berkner Band on DVD this morning. He even paused the video so he could see the colors of the clothes they were wearing (although, in the end, he did take some creative liberties, as you may notice). The only help he enlisted from me was drawing the shirts and writing the words. He is such the budding artist!