Hunter is one funny kid – he often tells me when he almost did something he shouldn’t but then he changed his mind.
Just the other day he heard me opening the oreos (during Bennett’s rest time) and he came running into the kitchen. He proudly says, “I was going to sneak some oreos but then I thought you’d hear the package open, so instead I’m just going to ask for some.” He didn’t take the oreos because he felt guilty about doing something wrong, just afraid he was going to get caught. Lines like this come out of his mouth all the time.
On a slightly related note – Hunter asks for oreos every day after he finishes his sandwich. But he’s learned not to ask for them when Bennett’s around so he’ll say, “Can I have a O-R-E-O when Bennett goes to b-e-d?” As Bennett sits next to him wondering why he just said his name. Every. Single. Day. It kills me. (he spells out bed as well because Bennett freaks out if he hears the word during lunch time – he knows nap time is quickly approaching and he’s doomed!)
On another slightly related note – I’m not a huge fan of oreos. If I’m going to eat them it’s going to be the mint ones, but I recently bought a package of lemon oreos and I’m in love. They’re not for everyone, Steve dislikes them, but the kids and I are eating them up. Try them out.
Mr. B is at that stage where he loves to talk and yet 80% of the time you can’t understand a darn thing that comes out of his mouth. Often I just smile and nod and then distract him so he doesn’t get frustrated that I’m not listening to him. While we were in Idaho he said the same thing over and over again and I had no clue what he was saying. A couple days later he was saying the same thing and I tried my hardest to understand him but I was getting nowhere. Later, we were driving in the car and a Black Eyed Peas song came on and he started shaking his head in his seat and started singing along.
And then it hit me, I knew exactly what he had been saying so many times before but his interpretation was a little off. Instead of the correct lyrics, “Pump it, louder. Pump it, louder.” He sang, “Bump it, Owie. Bump it, Owie.” He had been walking around the house saying it over and over again and I had no idea he was jamming out to the BEP!
Flash back: Hunter came home from preschool as the Easter bunny one day. He thought he was the funniest thing and he spent the afternoon hopping around.
It was all fun and games until he jumped too high and one of his precious eggs came flying out of his basket. Fortunately it was a hardboiled egg and it survived the fall with minimal injuries. However, it didn’t survive the one-year-old that got to the egg before Hunter did. It quickly became a smashed mess and I salvaged what I could to calm Hunters rage. I gave him a portion to eat and he looked at me very confused and turned up his nose. I assured him was safe to eat and he slowly took a bite. It was great and he loved it. He thought it was so fun that you peeled the egg “like and orange”. Kids are amused by the smallest things.
Speaking of Hunter – he said something that caught me off guard as I was making dinner yesterday. “Mom, You know when I’m really sad and crying, and at the same time I’m really thirsty? I just go like this (licking the side of his face with his tongue like a frog). Then I’m not really thirsty anymore. Do you ever do that?”
I was dying laughing. He was so serious and could not understand what I found so funny. I can’t say that I’ve ever licked my tears as a source of liquid replenishment. But that doesn’t mean I won’t in the future now that it has been brought to my attention!
Make fun of me all you want – but I am a spray butter fan. I have been a fan for years and I have received all sorts of ridicule and mockery, but it hasn’t changed my habits! I use it on toast, muffins, rolls, corn on the cob, potatoes, asparagus – there is no limit to when I will pull out the spray. My children have been raised in a house with my example and they too love spraying. The other day, Hunter requested cinnamon toast. We had company over for dinner the previous night so I had a plate with a stick of butter on it on the counter. Not thinking anything of it, I took a knife out of the drawer and started to spread the butter. Hunter started throwing a little fit because he felt like I wasn’t making what he asked for.
Me: Why are you crying?
Hunter: Because I told you I wanted cinnamon toast.
Me: I know – that’s what I’m making for you.
Hunter: (Totally exasperated) Then why did you use that type of butter?
Type of butter? I’ve officially brainwashed my children if they think the stick of butter on a plate is a “type of butter”. They think the real butter comes in liquid form and is easily sprayed with little hands. It’s moments such as this that I feel like a successful mother!