Jonas and the Giant Peach

"Wouldn't it be nice to live in a peach?" said Jonas. And we haven't even read the classic James and the Giant Peach yet to have inspired such a fantasy.

Oh boy, I'm in for it

"Why does God get to be God? When is it going to be my turn?"

POSN

I've rediscovered Your Story Hour CDs with my kids. I listened to some of these very same stories on the radio or LP back in the day. So this nostalgic mother gets a chance to relive some fond memories and make new ones with my littles.

Anyway, we listened to humorous tale of Thomas Edison's childhood the other day. Three cheers for his mama and knowing her son well enough to support him and his education at home when the teachers labeled him a dunce. But that's another story.

What I wanted to share today was a funny from my oldest. Lil Tom, annoyed with his sister's nosy friend, marked his stuff POISON to keep her away from his experiments. No poison there, but the warning worked. Our family enjoyed a chuckle over the incident, as well as Tom burning down his father's barn and later being asked to tutor the teacher who thought him dumb. And that was that.

Until the next morning I opened my refridgerator to see POSN written on my husband's Dr. Pepper. Owen had a lot of fun with a Sharpie and marked several "offending" items, including last night's leftovers.

How did he get so wise?

"What does God eat?" Owen asked from the back seat of Homer, my affection name for our Honda Odyssey. You know how I love conversations in the car.

"Um, that's a good question." My standard stall to give me a second to think of an appropriate response. "I don't know that God needs to eat, but perhaps he eats because he enjoys all the flavors he made."

"What is God's favorite food."

"Um, that's a good question." I repeat. "You'll have to ask God that when you get to heaven."

From the back came the barely heard murmuring, "The best questions are the ones you can't answer."

Infinity

A couple of days ago, Owen counted to 100. That's a big deal for him because Jack had long ago promised that when he could do that he would let him in on a secret. The secret of the biggest number ever. Something Owen has been pondering and wanting to know forever. His word.

Infinity. The biggest number. The biggest everything. Infinity.

So, this morning as we're driving, (Have I mentioned how much I enjoy the conversations that ensue on the road? The best questions come up then. Observations too.) Owen says, "God is infinity tall."

Just when I wonder where his brain is when he flings his jump rope around the living room, clocks his brother in the head and seems surprised it would do that. Then he comes up with this.

"God is bigger than anything. So he is infinity big. He is infinity tall."

Just one piece of pie

I promised the boys this morning that they could enjoy a piece of pumpkin pie at lunch. They really wanted it at breakfast. Or should I say Jonas really wanted it then. Jack had made two pies the other day and two pieces were left in the first one. So when lunchtime came around and specifically dessertime, I put a nice slice with a dollop of Cool Whip on each boys' plate.

He looked up at me and said, "But Mom, I wanted that piece," pointing to the remaining whole pie sitting on the kitchen counter.

Present for God

Owen, who just turned 6 a few days ago, took one of his leftover helium birthday balloons outside and let it go.

"What are you are doing?" I asked. I know that he knows it's gone for good and we won't suffer through the tears of a lost balloon like we would if his little brother had done this. So I was wondering if he liked watching how high the balloon would go, how it would travel through the air currents, stuff like that.

"I'm giving it to God," he replied.

An aaaahhhh moment

I was handing out kisses last night on my way out the door to my monthly book club meeting. Owen said something that just made my heart go all gooey.

"Good night my sweet and cuddly Mommy."

A true devourer of books

Of course, we'd love for all our children to be lovers of books and little Annaliese appears to have a head start.

I left her on the floor surrounded by her toys for a couple of minutes while I went to attend to her big brother elsewhere. When I returned I found her happily gnawing on my book.

A good inch of the bottom right-hand corner of my paperback cover was gone.

This just in

I had to fire up the laptop after I just put it to bed (on my way to bed) to post this one:

While taking out my contacts in the bathroom, my bleary-eyed Jonas walked in. The cute as humble pie one.

"Mom, I'm thirsty."

I take a quick survey of the counter and see, as I suspected, no cup, no glass, no container of any kind.

"I don't have anything to drink with in here, Honey. Could you use your hand?" We do the hand-becomes-cup thing often after teeth-brushing. No, we're not proud.

"How about my mouth?"

Oh. Yeah. Why didn't I think of that?

Humble, no. Honest, yes

Jonas came around the corner dressed up in his red plastic fireman coat and hat. A priceless picture that I wasn't able to capture while I was trying to comfort a 6-month-old cranky from vaccinations.

"Do you know how cute you are?" I said.

And Jonas replied nonchalantly, "Yes."

Um, why yes I do

"Mom, don't you wish you had Lightening McQueen underwear like me?"

It's a two-fer!

While driving the boys to their friends' house, Owen popped up with "3 plus 3 equals 6 and 4 plus 4 equals 8."

"Very good," I say, trying to remember if we had covered these particular equations before.

"Give me some other ones Mom."

I'm thinking this is too cool and I give him other addition questions up to 10 as we're driving along. I look at him through the rear-view mirror and notice him looking all around the mini-van without saying a word. If you know this child that's quite something because he's quite the talker. So with the next math problem, I say, "Wow, how did you know the answer?"

"I count the windows."

Then he added, "And I didn't talk so I could think."

After three kids, I'm still amazed...

... that a 3-month-old knows to lift her pudgy hips when I change her diaper. (I was going to write about this last month but then I dislocated my elbow and I got a surge of freelance editing and daily swimming lessons for the boys and, well, I was swamped. So now this child is really 4-months but it's so much more amazing when one is 3 months don't you think?)

... that a baby can actually explode more poop up her back than what remains in the diaper.

... how much stuff a tiny baby can spit onto you, causing you to change your shirt three times a day, causing you to wash those same three shirts daily so you have something to wear and wash the next day. Of course, the smart thing to do would be to have more than three shirts that fit but you're nursing and you're trying to lose weight and you're trying to save money so you can drive places and you're now babbling and you need to go change your shirt again. By the way, the stuff spewed forth and what it looks and smells like--you never want to eat cottage cheese again.

... by the bodily noises that infants can make. My one little princess is decidedly unladylike; the sounds erupting from her can make everyone in an entire room to turn, stare and stifle their giggles. Frankly, she's much louder than either of her two big brothers were. Hmmmm, is that a sign of what's to come?

... how early personality traits show up. Annaliese will squeeze her face tightly together and scream shrilly enough to break glass when Jonas pushes her too fast in her baby swing. Go figure, the boys' motto has always been the faster the better. I have a feeling this child won't like the roller coasters.

... how completely enamored a grown person can become with a itty bitty sweetie petitie munchkin pumpkin bobo bobo baby.

Guess how much I love you--an expanded edition

For those of you who are familiar with the children's book, Guess How Much I Love You:

During our goodnight hugs and kisses, Owen said, "I love Annaliese all the way to God."

And Daddy said, "I love Annaliese to God and back."

Babysitting or sit on baby?

A young friend at church who loves babies (she herself is still a babe, being around 18 months) was completely enthralled with Annaliese. She didn't even want to tear herself away to do her favorite activity--craft. I jokily asked this little girl if she would like to babysit someday. She said yes and tried to sit on the baby. She looked quite perplexed when her mother plunked her in her lap and we mothers shared a hearty laugh.

Baby fears

"When the baby comes, you won't have time for me anymore," said Owen.

"Sure I will. I'll still be able to play with you, read stories and do lots of other things with you." I promptly replied.

"But I won't be as special as the baby."

Ouch! That your older children may feel that is what every parent fears about having another child, second only to the baby's health. Of course, I reassured Owen that I would still have time for him and that he is very special. But I admit, it caught me off guard.

All our previous conversation about the pending arrival of a new baby had me convinced he was OK with the whole thing. He seemed understanding and realistic. When people ask him if he's excited about having a little sister, he replies, "I don't know, I haven't met her yet." Knowing how this child thinks, I took that as quite a logical answer. He honestly did fine when Jonas was born, and as long as I continue to give both of the boys individual attention, I pray, it will be fine again.

Java jive and lie

The other day, I treated myself, my very tired self, to a frappachino. When my back was turned, Owen snuck a sip. Now, I had told him before that coffee is just for grown-ups and he knew full well this was coffee.

"Owen, you're not suppose to drink coffee." Then it happened. It just flew out of my mouth without thinking. I blurted out one of those lies parents tell their children that I hate. "It will stunt your growth."

I could see the wheels turning in Owen's head.

"If I drink water, will it reverse the coffee."

"Um, yep."

Talking to Jesus

Owen walked around the backyard talking loudly to no one we could see.

"Who are you talking to?" asked Jack.

"I'm talking to Jesus."

"Why are you talking so loud?"

"So He can hear me." replied Owen. "Because He's way up in the sky."

But I need them!

At the end of our long weekend with family, the boys and I were headed toward the security line at the airport. I told them to say goodbye now because Grandmom and Uncle P couldn’t come with us. Jonas refused. He pointed his chubby fingers at the beloved relatives and exclaimed, “No, I need them!”