Ungulates

Po chose a Smithsonian video at the library. No surprise. He's watching it now while I'm getting some work done. He just approached my desk and asked, "Do you know that cows are ungulates?"

My first thought was that he made up another word, a common practice for him. He'll give you the definition of the made-up word, and everything, so it's pretty believable. I told him I didn't know that cows are ungulates, and could he please tell me more about it.

"Sure. There are different types of ungulates. Cows are the milking kind, and a gazelle is the not milking kind. And a giraffe is also an ungulate."

"Ah," I said. "Thanks for teaching me something (totally made up) new." Then I started to wonder. So I looked it up: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ungulate. It's way too early in the day to feel this stupid.

More than it Seems

Po has been a bit reluctant to go to preschool, but the one thing he's been pumped about is getting a Transformers backpack and folder. We went on a hunt for perfection today. He proudly wore his selection through Target, and we couldn't wipe the smile off his face if we wanted to.

Now that we're home, he won't let go of the folder. Papers in. Papers out. Papers in. Papers out. In the backpack. Out of the backpack. In the backpack. Out of the backpack. He sat contemplating the folder, inside and out, and finally said "this folder is really inspirational."

Huh? "You think so, Po?" I asked. "Why is that?"

"Well," he explained, "you can open it and put stuff in it, and there's a Transformers logo and the letters to make the word and there's a picture of Optimus on the front and on the inside. And I love it so much. So that's why it's inspirational."

College, here we come!

Big Mistakes Can Make You Thankful

Sometimes a series of circumstances are put together in just the wrong way.

Just a few minutes ago, I was working away on the computer, my hubby was vacuuming, and the littles were playing. Since the vacuum was so loud, hubby and I didn't hear the doorbell ring. Po did. And our door was unlocked. And he opened it.

I'm not sure how long the front door was open before I noticed from the angle that I sat at my desk that the light level in the family room was brighter than normal, which can only indicate one thing.

I sprung up, ran to the front door, and found Po standing in the open threshold speaking to a toothless man. I didn't scold him. This was completely my fault. I told him that we shouldn't open the door for strangers, and the toothless man told him the same thing. We got lucky that he was a kind veteran looking for donations for a program for homeless vets that he was a part of. I normally don't give anything to people who come knocking on my door, but I gave him a couple of dollars and thanked him for helping to teach my son and (mostly) me a lesson.

Po thinks the best of people, which is a quality he gets from me. It is a blessing and a curse, and it can often get you into trouble. We had a chat, and he was a bit upset. I wasn't angry, but I was serious. I told him that I made a mistake in not teaching him to be cautious of strangers at the door. Since we always (I thought) keep the door locked, I never even realized it could be an issue.

At the end of our talk, with both Po and I a bit choked up, Po said, "Mommy, I really want you to listen to me for a minute."

"Okay, Po. What's on your mind?"

"I knew that man wasn't a bad man because of his eyebrows. If you're good, your eyebrows are up. If you're bad, your eyebrows are down," he said, pushing my eyebrows down.

"True, Po, but sometimes even people who look nice, aren't." I hated that I had to say that. He doesn't understand. And he won't right now. Maybe that's okay. He doesn't have to know about all of the evils in the world just now. I think it's enough for me to know that I have to gracefully address with him the uncertainty of strangers. The lesson I learned was well worth the couple of bucks I gave to the homeless veterans.

Jello Monster

The littles were just enjoying some post-lunch Jello on this hot summer day. Po thinks Jello comes from heaven, but Cam usually just plays with hers, making a mess for me to clean. A few minutes into the treat, Po said, "you know, Mommy, she's not going to eat that. She just likes the idea of it."

"I know. Po. It's okay," I said.

He paused for as short a time as a four-year-old deems appropriate.

"So can I have hers?"