Take Me to Your Leader

Po has been helping me with the laundry today, and we just started another load. I used to have to pick him up to push the flashy buttons that make things happen, but today, suddenly, he could reach them on his own, and knew just what to do. A great wave of sadness washed over me.

"Po, can't you just stay a little baby? I don't like how fast you're growing up," I inappropriately blurted.

"Nope. The world wants me to be the boss," he declared.

Who am I to interfere with that? I sure hope I don't, because sometimes all I feel like doing is squeezing him so hard he squishes back into baby form.

Planning for the Future in a Big Way

This morning over breakfast, I witnessed a conversation between Po and B. Po asked, "So, brother, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I don't know," B shrugged.

"You don't know?" Po was shocked.

"Well," B reconsidered. "I guess I'll either be a video game tester or a chef, because I love video games, and I love to cook. Or maybe an astronaut."

"AN ASTRONAUT! ME TOO! I really want to be an astronaut," said Po.

"I think everyone does," B shared.

"Well, before I'm an astronaut, I'll be an army guy. Then an astronaut. Then a gardener. Then a police officer. Then a rock star. Then a doctor. Then a trash truck guy. And then a chef and a dump truck guy," Po announced.

"Whoa! " B said. "You'll never be able to retire."

"What's that?" Po asked.

It's probably best that we don't explain retirement right now. Po won't have time for it, anyway.

Short and Sweet

While eating a popsicle, Po just informed me that he is using his "taste bugs."

Never Mind the Context

Po was just sitting through some commercials and announced, "Well THAT is a fun commercial!" I thought it was probably some wacky toy he'd want, but instead the screen was filled with bullet points, and the announcer was talking about arthritis pain.

"This commercial?" I asked.

"YEAH! It's so cool! See!" I looked and saw an x-ray of a hip. "Check it out! It shows the INSIDE of a BODY! That's fun!"

Of course it is. Silly me.

Jail Time

I am coming to the realization that Cam's days in the crib are numbered. She's able to get a leg up and over, so I think we'd better transition to the big bed before she breaks her neck. I realize that since she's twenty-six months old, we've had it easy. But this is the parenting moment I most dread. When Po transitioned, we had to take shifts keeping watch outside his door. We had to threaten. We had to bribe. And eventually, we just switched the doorknob around so the lock was on the outside.

I really don't want to do that again, especially since they share a room and Po shouldn't have to be trapped. But I know there is NO WAY that girl is going to stay in her bed for anything. I could promise her a pony, and she'd be off and running, beating me out of the room.

I know you think I might be surprised. Oh, give her a chance. Don't label her a failure prematurely. You don't know Cam.

So I decided to seek the advice of an expert. Someone with a lot of recent experience on the subject. I consulted Po. "Po, I think Cam is getting ready for a big girl bed, just like your big boy bed. She'll be able to get in and out on her own, but I don't think she's going to want to stay in the bed. Remember when you had trouble doing that? Well, what do you think we could do to get her to stay in her bed?"

He thought and thought and was really putting in an effort to come up with a great solution. I was hopeful.

A look of inspiration came over his face. "I got it! We put bars around the bed!"

I wonder if a dog crate would work.

Just Plain Rotten

Po didn't get a chance to finish his breakfast before we took B to school this morning, and halfway there, he got concerned about it. "My cantaloupe!" he screamed.

"Buddy, don't worry. It will still be there when we get home," I explained. "You can eat it then."

"But it will decay!'

Decay? Really. I explained that it takes quite a while for a piece of cantaloupe to decay and that we'd be home in only a few minutes, so he didn't need to worry. "And, by the way, how do you know the word 'decay'?"

I got his standard answer: "Well, like I told you. I'm just a smart guy."

A New Power Word

We were all just getting ready to go for a walk, and Po suddenly plopped his rear down on the floor, grabbing his feet, and said "Oh, no! My sock is all funked up!"

You can be sure I'll be working that phrase into my repertoire.