the eldest

Karl and I are both The Oldest in our respective sibling situations so clearly nature dictates that we are the RESPONSIBLE, RELIABLE, MODEL children.  We NEVER snicker like 13 year old children when Nate's teachers tell us that he consistently points with his middle finger (He seriously does.  It's so wrong.) or how he announced at snack time last week that "my little sister has her snack from mommy's boobies" to all his classmates.   YOU KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE WHEN YOUR CHILD'S TEACHER TELLS YOU THAT. 

Here are some recent moments with our dearest, darling and ever-hilarious oldest child. 

Last week, I was changing the baby's diaper and it was gross.  (Fact.  At least a 10-wipe operation.  Needed back up trash bags.) 

Me (standing over the half-naked and half-clean baby and yelling into the other room): Nate, do you know where the Kroger bags are?

Him (coming to the bedroom doorway and yelling): AT THE STORE.

Me (smiling): No, the ones in the pantry.

Him (walking closer but still yelling): WHAT'S A PANTRY?!!? 

Me: Never mind. 

One week, in the span of one hour, here are three sentences I said to Nate:

1. At a restaurant: Nate, do not lick the window.

(Licking has been his way of dealing with some of his emotions - it's real gross.  Like every time he got nervous on Halloween, he licked his light saber.) 

2. In our bathroom: Nate, do not put your sock in the toilet.

(Not sure WHAT he was doing there.  He said he wanted to see if it got wet.  Worked.) 

3. In the living room: Nate, put your booty back in your pants. 

(He wanted to run with just his butt and his butt only hanging out of his pants.  Because that's cool.) 

One day in the car with us last week:

Nate: Mommy, what's a bra?

Me and Karl glance at each other uncertaintly. 

Karl: Um, it's something girls wear.  Part of their outfit.   ::launches into awkward boob talk::

Me: Who taught you the word bra? 

Him: My friend Jaylon.  He says "What's up BRA?"

Me and Karl: OOOOOHHHH you mean like bro. 

Karl: Oops.

A few weeks ago, Nate and I were at Gigi's house playing on the floor and getting ready to go.

Nate (glancing at the baby): Gigi, do you have boobies?

Gigi: Yes.

Nate (glancing pointedly at the baby): Good.  Then Mommy and I can go play.    

Karl and I have also noticed he's been having these bursts of lovey-dovey emotions that I think he doesn't know exactly how to process and are sometimes awkward and always adorable.  Generally they involve hugging you until you fall over or crashing into your face with a kiss.  They are extra sweet these days because, at 3.5 years old, he starting to REALLY want to play with his friends and not us.   Yesterday he gave Karl a hug in the car and said "You're a good daddy, daddy" as he was buckling him in. 

We let him play his first video game and, MAN, I can see the screen time struggle becoming an issue.  He.  is.  OBSESSED.  I want to throw it in the trash.  Currently, he asks to play first thing in the morning and first thing when he gets home from school.  Here he is racing with his bra:

He mostly plays a Cars 2 racing game which has both regular races and battle races.  In the battle races, the cars have gun (we call them PEW-ers... as in the noise they make.  PEW. PEW.  PEW.).  Instead of saying I shot that car or I killed him, we say 'I pewed him!' or "I'll pew you." which doesn't really seem to be working as a, um, non-violence tactic as last night at dinner he ate his cracker into a gun and pewed the whole table. 

Despite the fights (well, we say 'no' to video games and he whines about it... and by whine I mean throws the occasional tantrum...and by occasional I mean, um, often.), he still wants to go places with us.  Little Rock's outdoor ice rink opened for the winter (amidst 75 degree weather).  My office does press for the rink so we were invited to one of the schmancy pre-parties.  (Shameless work promotion: http://www.holidaysinlittlerock.com - details here!  I did this website!)

Checking out the ice: 

 

He wasn't sure he wanted to go but we laced him up anyway and Karl helped him (basically drug him) around the rink once.     

AND (I saved the best for last) this weekend I opened his backpack to clean out his folder and FOUND THIS: 

Be still my heart. 

Guess those video games aren't ALL he thinks about. 

Sweet boy.