I don't wear my hair curly all that often anymore. I prefer it straight, and now that I have a high-octane flamethrower of a hairdryer, it's easy to get it that way - and fast.
Last nite, though, I was too tired to dry my hair after I washed it. Knowing I wouldn't have time to wash it again before leaving for Furman this morning, I decided to let it air dry over nite and see what happened.
The resulting, poodle-like coiffure prompted the following exchange with one Mr. Frederick Bear as I went in to get his sweet self out of bed. He looked up at me with eyes that were barely opened. His first words were: "Hey, Mama. How you get that hair on?" as if my head held some sort of kinky, curly hair hat that I had put on like Freddie puts on his Kentucky Wildcat football uniform.
When I told him that this is how God made me, he said, "Wear that hair to the Chocolate Beach" (he calls Pawleys Island "the Chocolate Beach," because the beach house is brown. I *think* he made this connection, because there's a picture of our family in the den. In it, Freddie is six months old, and my hair is curly). He then yelled at Jones, saying, "Hey, JoJo! Come see Mama's hair."
I suddenly understood why P.T. Barnum made such a good living selling tickets for folks to see the freaks.
Before they went back to bed tonite, Jones came to me and said, "Mama, when you are asleep, do it like you do it at Mayme's house." Confused, I stuttered around for a minute until I got an idea of what he was talking about. "Like curly hair?" I asked. He confirmed: "Like curly hair. Like CRAZY hair," and then he ran down the hallway, yelling, "Guess what, Freddie! Tomorrow, Mama is gonna have that curly hair!"
That, as you might have guessed, has led to his baby brother picking it up, as well. Having smoked my share of candy cigs, however, I don't feel like I'm in a position to put the kibosh on their usage of plastic pipes.
I'm really not sure where Jones has even seen someone using a pipe. My best guess is Dennis's dad on "Dennis the Menace." Still, he's somehow not only seen it but perfected its nuances.
The first time I saw it was yesterday; he ran by me in the foyer, holding a toothbrush with its suction-cup bottom attached to the plastic water cup he uses after he brushes. "I found the perfect tools to build my pipe," he told me.
Not to be outdone, Freddie saw Jones, whom Freddie continues to watch like a movie, and stuck the suction cup bottoms of two brushes together to produce what appeared to be a giant cigarette. This was later modified to match Jones's vice of choice.
At Freddie's doctor's appointment yesterday, Jones made himself a celebrity, "using" during the visit. He bragged to the nurse, "You gotta look up, and then you spit smoke."
Allllllllll-righty, then.
All I can do is laugh at their ingenuity - and, obviously, hope this is one habit they break well before adulthood.
Tonite, the boys were settling to watch a 'toon before bed. Jones was already in one of the recliners when Freddie said, "I'm gonna sit with Jones. He's my best buddy, my best buddy I ever had." The boys used to share that chair all the time. It next to never happens now, so as soon as Freddie said it, I grabbed my camera and hit the den.
As the boys hear me say all the time, "God gave me two boys!" and I am so incredibly glad that He did.
I don't make a habit of laying down with my boys at bedtime. When it comes to bedtime, I have always ascribed to the Mary Poppins Philosophy: it "is to be STRICTLY observed."
Last nite, though, I heard Freddie crying about twenty minutes after I'd put him down. I went in there - primarily to quiet him down, so he wouldn't wake up Jones. As soon as I got in there, he said exactly what I expected him to say: "I wantchu." Then, "I wantchu to hole me," so I did.
I scooped up the sweetest three year old I know and held him in his harvest gold rocking chair, and then, his cuteness convinced me - for the first time in a LONG time - to lay down with him. We "cuckled" and re-capped our day. He'd ask, "Do you like the train or the ferris wheel? Do you like Dollywood or the fair?" and after answering every, say, three questions, I'd say, "You've GOT to go to bed." He'd wrap my arms around him and say, "Five more minutes."
Since I was enjoying it as much as he was, I stayed - until it'd been twenty minutes or so. That's when I started worrying that he'd wear himself out and not be rested enough to start school in a good mood, so I got up to leave.
"I want to cuckle you," he said.
"Well, cuckle your animals, Buddy. You've got lots of animals!"
"But they don't talk!"
And instantly, I thought of the other Thomas in the family - the one whose second grade report card mentioned how Tommy was a talker - "not quietly to his neighbor but out loud for everyone to hear."
It's been one of those days when the boys' silly stuff has been coming at me a mile a minute. Here are a few examples:
1) First, as they played outside this morning, the time came for a Gator ride. Freddie was in the driver's seat (of course), and Jones stood in his spot on the passenger's side. "'ey," Freck forcefully demanded. "Sit on your hiney." To be honest, I was surprised to hear Evil Knievel so concerned with safety.
A few minutes later, though, Freddie had had enough with Jones's pestering. "Jones, I'll drop you outta dis Alligator," he said.
THAT'S my boy.
2) On the way in to Wal-Mart:
FREDDIE: Hey! There's Jingle Bells.
JONES (slightly annoyed and, then, Mr. Salesman): It's BO-jangles. It's Bo Time.
3) When the receipt came out of the self check-out station, Freddie stood up in the back of the buggy and cheered, "Mama, you win! You win!" as if it were a game at Chuck E. Cheese dispensing tickets.
Finally, I've seen these "Kid Interviews" for years. I've always thought my boys were too young to do it. Well, I saw one this morning and gave it a shot:
JONES'S ANSWERS
Who is your favorite person? (To Jeremy) Not you, Romeo (the PJ Mask character Jones has cast Jeremy as). It's Pete (one of the characters Freddie plays; see previous post).
What is your favorite color? Blue
What is your favorite TV show? "Mickey and the Roadster Racers"
What is your favorite toy? My favorite is a police car.
What is your favorite food? Chicken Pie
What is your favorite animal? My favorites a horse.
What is your favorite thing to do outside? My favorite is the little tiny John Deere Tractor.
Who makes you sad? Freddie
Who makes you happy? Mama
How old is Mama? (Taps nose, looks confused, never answers)
What do you want to be when you get big? Cowboy
What's your favorite thing Mama does? Sing me ("Sing me" is how he says, "Sing to me").
What's your favorite thing Daddy does? My favorite is that he tucks me in.
FRECK'S ANSWERS
Who is your favorite person?I like you. (ME!)
What is your favorite color? Navy Dark Blue
What is your favorite TV show? "Special Agent Oso"
What is your favorite toy? gestures to Vaseline Jar sitting beside him
What is your favorite food? Chicken pie
What is your favorite animal? I wike a cow.
What is your favorite thing to do outside? Ride my alligator, the tractor
Who makes you sad? (sitting on couch beside Jones, he sticks his finger in Jones's belly and says ...) This guy does.
Who makes you happy?My tummy makes me happy.
How old is Mama? 4
What do you want to be when you get big?I be cowboy.
What's your favorite thing Mama does? Make wunch, and wots of fings.
What's your favorite thing Daddy does? Daddy wikes to hold me
Today, the boys were playing at the clubhouse. When I called them in, they both came right away - Freddie first but Jones following right behind, his shoes in his arms and pants around his ankles.
Wait.
WHAT?
Understandably befuddled, I asked him, "Jones. Why do you have your pants down?" Without a single shred of shame or irony, he said, "Because I went stinky outside, like Blue."
Oh, DID you now?
The answer, in short, is yes. He most certainly did - marked his territory right up by the clubhouse steps in what seemed to him as normal a thing as April showers bringing May flowers.
He wasn't punished. I've never once TOLD him not to "stinky outside, like Blue." Further, he wasn't at all ashamed or trying to hide anything. He thought what he did was well within the framework of civilized society. After all, BLUE does it!
What I did instead was give him a bath and explain that, while he sometimes pretends to be a dog, he is, in fact, a boy, and little boys do their business in potties.
After church today, we went to Wild Wings in South Asheville. It's kind of become our go-to spot for stopping on the way home from Arden. Jones loves the "cookie soup;" I'm get the buffalo chicken salad. Freddie ...
Anyway.
Freddie wanted to say the blessing today. He said about a thousand things I didn't understand: "Dear Jesus ????? feel better ??? feel better ??? feel better," but when he said, "Pease hep JoJo be a good boy," it came through LOUDLY and clearly.
Truth be told, he's probably heard his mama pray for JoJo's obedience a time or two, so I thoroughly appreciated his intercessory assistance. My dad pointed out that it was a very similar statement to one I made when I was 4 or 5. Daddy asked if I could name any of my sins. I thought for a minute and said, "No, but I can name some of Sissy's."
I still can, to be honest. The difference is, NOW, I can name my own sins, too. Freddie will get there. I hope. Until then, this story is the stuff that family lore is made of.
This morning, I walked into the den to find one brother spraying Windex on the other, while the other was spraying Clorox on his brother. This is the first time in four years either one of them has even gotten under the kitchen sink.
After the what-for they got for TODAY'S little exploration, I have a feeling they won't go under there again.
But still.
Kinda funny ... except for the potential poisoning and all.
1) The other day, there was dead silence in the backseat of the car until, out of nowhere, Freddie started singing, "I got me (beat) shot! I got me (beat) shot!" I don't listen to "Hamilton" all that often when they're in the car with me, but apparently, I've listened just enough for Freddie to fall in love with one of my favorite songs from the soundtrack.
When we got to Mom and Daddy's, I made him sing it again, so I could record it for the ages. I am especially proud of - and impressed by - the way he captures the rhythm!
2) Jones is still really into the "Blue (by that he means 'Lone') Ranger." I'm guessing THAT'S where he was inspired to say this: our babysitter, Haylee, was over one day, and she was roughhousing with Freddie. Jones was playing with his broomstick horse and said to her, "Weave my brudder alone, ya ole Lazy Daisy." It was HILARIOUS.
Also, he continues to refer to the Lone Ranger's horse as "Hi Ho Silver Away." Used in a sentence: "Mama, Hi Ho Silver Away (sometimes just 'Hi Ho Silver') is hungry. Can he go to lunch with us?"
3) Just like my parents did before me - and my sister did with her kids before I did with mine - I'm really intentional about introducing my boys to the "classics." Cartoons, for instance - Sure, they love them some "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse," but they're just as excited about "Tommy Jerry," "Dripdy (Droopy)," and "the Smurfs." Lately, they've also gotten into Bugs Bunny, thanks to a $5 DVD I bought at Big Lots.
A few mornings ago, Freddie said he wanted to watch "Bugs Rabbit." Jones, acting annoyed, said, "It's BUNNNNY."
4) After church on Sunday, we went to what the boys call "The Strawberry Shop," which is what the rest of the world calls "Chili's" (but that pepper in their logo kinda DOES look like a strawberry, doesn't it?!?). There was a seat between Jeremy and Freddie, and Fred said, "This is for Reagan." I think he's a little sweet on his friend from church.
Jones has been bitten by the bug, too - he named his pumpkin Reagan. He named the scarecrow on our porch Reagan, and the potty-training baby that has always just been "Baby" was re-christened "Reagan" earlier this week. Reagan's mama is about to have her third baby, so I'm hoping that means Reagan and her little brother Brice get to spend a lot more time out here with us during the day. The boys would go BANANAS.
This reminds me of last Monday. Our friend Jason brought his now-fiancee and her twin daughters over for dinner. Her girls - Sophie and Grace - are four, and the four kids hit it off like CRAZYCAKES, playing GREAT together and eating, just the four of them, in the playroom, while the grownups were in the kitchen. When Sophie and Grace went to the potty, Freddie looked around from his little wooden seat and said, "Where are the girls?" It sounded like something straight out of "White Christmas," and we all laughed at how adorable it sounded.
5) Today, we were heading outside to play on what looks like it'll be the last super warm day for a few days. I decided I'd have some coffee, which is RARE, so I told the boys to hold up. "I'm gonna make some coffee." Freddie interjected, "I want some cop-py!" "Well, Buddy, coffee is just for mamas and daddies." "And Nanas," Freddie added before Jones finished with, "And Maymes."
6) Whenever Freddie sees me looking sad, he'll say, "You happy?" And if I say, "No," he'll say, "I YOUR boy," to make me feel better.
And it usually does.
7) For MONTHS, Jones has been saying something that sounds like, "It's Belligerence" when he'd get in trouble. I thought it was a blame-shifting thing - like "Belligerence," like the bug Jones often blames, is his imaginary fall guy. Well, today, he finally said it clearly enough for me to understand him. All this time, he's been saying, "It's a BIG ACCIDENT."
That makes SO much more sense.
8) Earlier this week, I went with some friends to see Dolly Parton (and Dollywood!) in Pigeon Forge. I FaceTimed the boys from the park when it was all lit up for Christmas. They were at Waffle House with Jeremy. When I showed the decorations to Jones, he said, "It's gorgeous," and then he added, "I want you to come back to YOUR house, Mama."
And so I did.
9) Anytime you give Jones medicine, he says, "Mmmmm. I'm all better," as soon as he's swallowed it.
10) Freddie wants medicine CONSTANTLY. He makes up excuses, things that hurt, so he can get a shot of that sweet elixir known as Benadryl.
11) This is gross but hilarious. The other day, Jones was ... doing his business. I asked him, "Can you squeeze that stinky out?" He said, "Yes. But the stinky will not squeeze out. It needs some batteries to squeeze it out."
What size?
12) While I was at Dollywood, Lynn noticed Freddie was missing. She found him in the bathroom, washing his hands. He then started using the soap to wash some of his toys. When he saw her watching, he said, "I don't need you. Go away." Not very sweet, but still pretty funny.
So that's all that comes to mind right now. I've been trying to get most of this on paper FOR TWO WEEKS. Blogging is hard, Y'all, primarily because I'm too tired to do it, like, 89% of the time and too lazy the other 11%.
The boys and I were reading some Thanksgiving books during dinner today. The characters in the book were listing things that made them happy, so I asked the boys, "What are some things that make YOU feel happy?" Without missing a beat, Freddie answered, "Mama."
So I let him eat candy for dinner and stay up an hour after his bedtime (I'm kidding. Bedtime is sacred, and if there were any candy in the house, I'D be the one eating it).
When I put him to bed, he asked me to "Pease sing to me in my bed," as he always does, so I climbed in to sing to him - "Jesus Loves Me" is always his first pick, followed, generally, by "Jesus," then "Deep and Wide" and "De-PART."
As I tried to climb out and leave, he grabbed hold of my neck and said, "You're stuck (which sounds more like 'duck')," and then he got a gleam in his giant blue eyes and said, "I lock you in."
And instead of getting up to go check on election returns, I let him "lock me in" for a few more minutes, reminding myself that, no matter WHO'S President, my baby boys are STILL the kings of my heart.
By "it," I mean the boys' dragging their feet while eating their yogurt. A note about the yogurt: Activia Probiotic Yogurt has been a game changer for Jones's ... ahem ... digestion, so I am NEUROTIC about getting at least one but preferably two cups in him every day, and the thing is, they LOVE yogurt. It's just that they ALSO love playing around in the new booth Mom bought for our kitchen, which is fine, EXCEPT WHEN WE ARE UP AGAINST NAPTIME.
Anyway...
We were in our 30th minute of lunch today, which meant I'd said, "EAT YOUR YOGURT" at LEAST 30,000 times. Finally, I said it more loudly than I had been. I didn't YELL it, but it definitely came out at a higher-than-usual volume. Jones meekly put his hands over his ears and said, "Don't yell."
He didn't say this disrespectfully at all, so I sat down beside him and diplomatically said, "I'll make you a deal. I won't yell at you, if you will obey me without complaining."
By this point, he had his head resting on one arm on the table. When I said that, he looked up at me with that giant right eye and then stuck his left hand out to shake mine. "DEAL," he said, matter-of-factly.
I kid you not.
THAT just happened.
With my JUST turned four year old.
Where.in.the.world did he pick that up?
Regardlesss, our good-natured exchange seemed to have done the trick--at least temporarily. Within 90 seconds, the rest of his yogurt was gone, and soon after that, both boys were in bed.
1) This morning, the boys were REALLY frustrating me, because they WOULD NOT JUST SIT STILL AND EAT THEIR FREAKING BREAKFASTS, so I yelled at them, and a few minutes later, as they STILL sat there (not) eating their yogurt, I went back into the kitchen and said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you boys. That was wrong of me. I lost my temper."
Jones tenderly put his hand on my forearm and said, "Okay, but you see, there are still con-sea-quences when we sin."
I simultaneously laughed and beamed with pride.
2) Jones, who's told people he was a cowboy, since he could speak, is really into watching "Lone Ranger" episodes on YouTube (via AppleTV). This morning, he was playing with little plastic cowboys / Indians / horses (think green Army men, only with a Wild West theme).
When I asked who he had, he held up a blue guy and said, "This is the Blue Ranger." He then held out a white horse and said, "And this is Hi-Ho-Silver-Away," as if the entire phrase were the horse's name.
That's another one of those things I'm just not gonna correct, because it's too, too CUTE.
This would also be an appropriate place to note that Jones refers to "Tom & Jerry," which he LOVES, as "Tommy Jerry."
3) Also, Nana Boone gave Jones a witch / Halloween movie for his birthday. Both boys like watching it - but especially Mr. Pookys himself, Jones Pressley. When the boys were playing in the yard on Friday, they turned their golf clubs into broomsticks and flew like the witch.
I had to teach the boys to never
pick the card that your opponent
wants you to pick!
The fact that Jones has a bare chest and bare feet IN NOVEMBER is just another one of those things that I LOVE about living in the South.
4) Aunt Nancy gave Jones some card games for his birthday - Old Maid, Go Fish, and Animal Rummy. On Saturday, we broke out the Old Maid cards, and the boys were HOOKED - especially Freddie. He's had a deck of cards in his hand pretty much ever since.
Freddie and Daddy beat Jones and me,
so this was their "good game" handshake.
1) There's something funny about these pictures. Notice the way Jones is looking gleefully at something? That "something" is himself - well, his reflection - in the mirror of his great-great grandmother Bubba's dresser.
Back in May, I tried to get the dresser into Jones's room, but I "broke my back" trying to get it up the stairs and didn't try again until earlier this month. As I installed the mirror a few weeks ago, I thought to myself, "Hmm. A reflective surface this close to the place where I want my little showman to sleep is probably not a good idea." I immediately envisioned the bed turning into his stage with the mirror making for an audience of one.
I was right, and these pics are proof.
Since then, Jones has spent so many nap times (at bedtime, it doesn't seem to be an issue, probably because he's so tired from all that not napping) singing and dancing for himself that I finally took the mirror off its hinges and hid it behind the dresser. "Please put it back," Jones asked as I did it.
For now? No.
For now, I'm not yet ready to say "Nite nite" to nap time, even though it's increasingly seeming like my almost four-year-old is.
Speaking of "Mama's Little Showman," here are some recent pictures of him in the backyard, looking a little too much like Bob Fosse in my old Mary Poppins hat (with the ribbons removed). Since before Jones was even born, people have asked me if I planned to have my kids involved in theatre. I've always said, "No. If they FIND it themselves, that's fine, but I'm NOT pushing them in that direction."
Jones may very well be "finding it for himself."
Time will tell.
Since they discovered this stump in our backyard, it's become something of a stage.
2) Mama's Little Lyricist? Speaking of "finding theatre for himself," Jones also seems to be finding his mama's fascination with lyrics. Needless to say, this THRILLS me. Here's an example: as we drove to Greenville this week, it was raining, and instead of singing, "Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun ...," he sang, "Mr. Storm, Storm, Mr. Friendly Storm ..." THAT'S NOT EVEN PART OF THE SONG! HE JUST MADE IT UP HIMSELF!
It sounds so silly to be excited about something so small, but what you probably DON'T know is that I started out changing lyrics right around his same age. The first time I remember doing it was when Barbara Mandrell would sing, "I was country when country wasn't cool ..." and I'd (not so) cleverly switch the lyrics to "I was CHICKEN when CHICKEN wasn't cool." It doesn't even make sense; I know this, but that's STILL the way I sing that song. If they're honest, my parents probably do, too.
Later, I'd change the Judds' "Why not me when the nites get cold / why not me when you're growing old?' to "... / why not me when you're startin' to mold." Obviously, my "tweaks" were hardly sophisticated (I was WAY more interested in silly back then), but I have OFTEN thought how interesting it is that a little lady - whose "interest" in lyrics goes back to when she was three years old - grew up to write a doctoral dissertation about a lady lyric-writer.
Add to that the fact that MY three year old has an interest in lyrics, and it almost makes up for the fact that he looks NOTHING like me.
Almost.
3) Today was our regular day to have lunch with Daddy. When Bible Study was on Wednesday, lunch was on Tuesday. Now that Bible Study is on Tuesday, though, lunch is switched to Thursday. We used to almost always go to Bogart's, but we've gone there less and less - for no particular reason. In fact, I can't remember the last time we actually went to Bogart's.
Well, as we stood in Jeremy's office today, Jones came over to me, took my hand, and very sweetly yet matter-of-factly said, "I'm hungry, Mama. We can go to Bogart's." It was ADORABLE, and, of course, we went to Bogart's.
I should note here that Freddie begs for Jones's shoes every time he wears them. Seriously. EVERY.TIME. He desperately wants Jones's "chockt" shoes. We shoulda named him Willie Wonka.
4) Because of the tummy troubles I mentioned in a previous post, Jones stayed in the service with us this Sunday. We got in late and sat in the balcony, but Jones did GREAT. He wasn't PERFECT, but he was SO MUCH BETTER than the last time he sat with us. I really love having him in there, and so long as he can handle it, I love it. Anyway, this Sunday, Jones was coloring on the church roll (which we, probably inappropriately, refer to as "the Lamb's Book of Life"). He's color some circles, and then he'd stick Jeremy's pen in his shirt using the EXACT.SAME motion as Jeremy does when he sticks HIS pen in his shirt. It was UNCANNY how meticulously he copied his daddy's motion (even though Jeremy HADN'T done it at church that morning).
A few minutes later, I sneezed. Jones whispered, "Bless you." He then added in his best sotto voce, which, to be honest, was NOT all that "sotto," "Be quiet. Church is quiet."
He's right, you know.
Finally, toward the end of the service, I tousled his hair and whispered, "Proud of you, Buddy." He whispered back, "Proud of you, too, Kristin. You make me so proud, and I wub you."
This is probably way more about Jones Pressley than you ever want to know.
BUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTT ...
Last Thursday, he had some tummy troubles. These prompted our first-ever (in almost four years of parenthood!) "sick visit" to the doctor's office. Can you even believe that?
Sure, there have been panicked calls to the nurse-on-call when I assumed my fevered sons were sick enough to be taken straight to the ICU. I've used MyIdealDoc a handful of times, too, and let us NEVER underestimate the input of Dr. Dahdah or Seasea, who, with her four children, has seen it all.
Between all of that advice - and, more importantly, the healing hand of God Himself - the boys have never needed to be seen except for regular check-ups. There is no end to the amount of gratitude I feel for the health of my boys. It goes without saying that I do NOT take this for granted.
I won't go into the details of what happened last Thursday to shake our little boat; I will, however, note that it scared me more than just about anything else has ... EVER.
God was good, though - as He always is. Not only was OUR doctor the one on call for afternoon sick visits, but he just so happened to have a 4:15 appointment available. Everything was totally fine, but Jones did require the kind of treatment that involves - to put it delicately - loosening up parts of his biology that are, on their own, rather tight.
Okay, People. It's Miralax. He's on Miralax ... or BACK on Miralax, I should say.
Anyway.
The magic powder was doing its thing this afternoon. Understandably, Jones generally prefers to be left alone for this sort of thing, so I told him to call me when he was done. He didn't call for several minutes, and I went back to check on him. I walked in and saw him, sitting on the commode, deeply engrossed in his grandmother's copy of Mount Vernon Love Story (by Mary Higgins Clark).
"I reading this book," he announced when he saw me. "It's about Jesus."
I didn't correct, just sat down and started talking. That's when he showed me a picture of ... Martha Washington, I presume? ... and said, "I see Sissy!"
When his business was done, he took the book into the playroom and showed it to Freddie.
"This is Sissy," he said.
"That's not Sissy," Freddie corrected.
"Yes, it is. Sometimes, Sissy scares you, but it's just pretend."
Immediately, I flashed back to when Mom and Daddy'd let her babysit.
