A RealFamilies RealFun Blog

Oct 7 2008

Late to bed, early to rise

Category: Kids & Growing Up

Nathan must be at school by 8 a.m. which means we leave here no later than 7:45 a.m. With our early start, I often have to wake Lucie, get her dressed, and find some sort of breakfast item for her to munch in the car. Many mornings that's more than she'll put up with, so I end up taking her to school in her pajamas and slippers.

If I have an early morning meeting at school, I'll pack her clothes along some breakfast. We'll drop Nathan off and Miss Pajama Girl and I will head for school bathroom for a wardrobe change. Then during my meeting she'll have her bananas and juice. Only a three-year-old can get away with arriving for a meeting in her PJs. How I envy her. 

But now that summer vacation has arrived -- and we don't have to be out of the house before 9 a.m. most mornings -- Lucie's waking up around 6:30 or 7 a.m. even though she's going to bed much later. Maybe it's the birds singing in the morning, or the bright sunshine. But I think she's just doing this to drive me crazy.

 

Oct 6 2008

Obsessions

Category: At Home

Nathan is usually obsessed with something and constantly asks us about it. This week it was with the golf pull cart I ordered for him online. Nathan's in a golf league that meets in the middle of the day. With the heat, it's difficult for him to carry his clubs and keep up with the rest of the kids on the course. Seeing that his buddy Michael had a kid-sized pull cart, I got Nathan one, too.
After I told Nathan I placed the order, the questions started coming:

What color is it? (Black)

Is it the same one as Michael's? (Yes, but his is yellow.)

Do the wheels come off? (I don't know, but we'll see when we get it.)

How much did it cost? ($35.95 with shipping.)

When will it get here? (Soon. Stop obsessing!)

That week every time the UPS man came by (which is often) Nathan would run to the door screaming, "My golf cart, my golf cart!" Seeing it was yet another review book for me, he was inevitably disappointed.
Yet five minutes later he'd ask, "So when's my golf cart coming?" and I'd sprout another gray hair. Luckily, I was eventually emailed a tracking number, and was able to tell him exactly when it was coming.

This obsession behavior isn't unique to Nathan. His dad has it, too. Recently Paul was fitted for and ordered a very special golf club, a PING G5. Every day he'd come home and ask, "So is my G5 here yet? I need it this weekend!"

The leaf doesn't fall far from the tree now, does it?

 

Oct 3 2008

Checking for feathers

Category: Just Me

Nathan's developing a very unpleasant habit of taking things that aren't his. This past school year I'd clean out his backpack and find school supplies, fast food toys, or other trinkets I knew weren't his. I'd ask him to return the items to their rightful owners, but somehow they never made it out of his backpack or I'd find them later hidden in his desk.

When the items looked valuable, like a bracelet he found on the playground, I'd insist that he turn it in to the lost and found at school. Still he'd conveniently forget to turn it in, and I'd end up  doing it myself.

During the last week of school at Field Day, he found a wallet. First he tried to pass it off as a gift. Then he finally admitted he found it. Again, I'd bring up the lost and found. I was beginning to sound like a broken record.

We left the playground, and I accompanied Nathan to the lost and found in the lobby. Distracted by Lucie, I lost track of where he went. I finally found Nathan coming out of the bathroom.

"So, Nathan, you put the wallet in the lost in found?" I asked.

"Yes, I did," he answered.

"Well, can you show me where you put it? I didn't see it when I looked," I told him.

"Oh, oops, I forgot. It's in my pocket!" Nathan said.

I grabbed the wallet from him and shoved it in the lost and found box. Shaking my head, I told him how disappointed I was with him and that I'd tell his dad. While I know this behavior is typical of many kids his age, I'm not thrilled that he's turning into a magpie either.