Pirates Don't Cry or Do They...

Change is always a big deal in our house. I have tried springing it on them and I have tried the gentle persuasion and reminder of upcoming events but it always comes down to the same thing. Tears.

We started early this year with our Halloween costume finding. The girls wanted to be witches (not the scary/ugly ones but the pretty ones like princesses), we had a spider for JD and BK didn't care. So we found suitable witch costumes, and happened across a pirate costume. IT WAS AWESOME!! It was such a great find because BK to Daddy could fit into it. BLEE had pirate day at school for Red Ribbon week and was able to use it then and then BK could use it at several Halloween occasions.

When we finally got it on all he wanted to be was a Pooh Bear (a suggestion from his older sister). So we tried Pooh Bear. Thank you C & W! Though the tears streamed in that one also. It did help when the candy started flowing though. Someday he will look back and ask why it looks like he was crying in all of his Halloween picts.

Super Powers

Seriously. I really am having a hard time say more than that, though if you know me I don't give up that easily. I am just completely in awe.

I keep hiding every pair of scissors that we own and more keep popping up. My number three baby has this super power to find them. He is like a magnet. This month he has cut every piece of paper that he has come in contact with and then some. Some have been important but most have not. He gave himself a pretty amazing haircut after which I was positive he would have been scared silly to touch the things again.

But I confess to being overconfident in my persuasion skills. He has found them again. This time it was his shirt. It was a sweatshirt and red to boot (he pretty much will only wear red and it is quite chilly now so the need to have warm red shirts is mounting).

Now for those of you that are wondering where the mother and father are in this picture that I have painted of a three year old shredding his shirt they were front and center and even talked with him about his picture he was drawing (monsters and a pirate map, very ferocious). I just wonder what it was like raising Clark Kent...

Treasure Hunt Tuesday

So I have a little case of agoraphobia, not really, I just don't get out much. This week's theme of buildings was really tough for me. I got out to get the mail, milk and go to church.

So we started looking around the house. Living in a cookie cutter home in the heart of suburbia doesn't offer up much.
So when I saw the tower I decided it didn't get much better. We call this demolition day (kind of like a theme in our house).

Zero

So my three year old is quite the mathematician. He can almost count to 20 in English and to 10 in Spanish. He loves to line things up and count them. So numbers are a familiar thing.

Yesterday I was handing out two cookies to each of my crew. Two, as many of you know is just never enough and the negotiations begin. I never waiver, but they always try.

BK was in a negotiable mood and so he put his plan on the table. He wanted a HUGE amount of cookies, so he chose ZERO. I tried, for like ten minutes, to explain that zero and none were the same and he was choosing no cookies not a gazillion. We counted it out on hands, but of course mother is always wrong. He went away empty handed and pouty.

Fifteen minutes later he came crawling back and asked for two. I think that he has learned zero. Wonder what will come to the negotiation tables next time...

Wish Upon a Star

If BK were to wish upon a star he would wish for one of two things: his bed to be turned into a huge lump of jello on which he would bounce to his little heart's content or go golfing with his daddy.

Today one of them came true (sorry, no jello dripping off the ceilings).

JP went golfing with two buddies and they were cool enough to let a desperate little boy tag along.

So I loaded his pockets full of snacks (box of raisins, three gummies, two granola bars, baggy of crackers, and a bottle of water-dad thought too much, but he has never played 18 holes with a three year old), smothered him with sunscreen and kisses and sent them off.

I did phone twice (sorry Brian and Ted) to remind dada to reapply the sunscreen, but it sounded like they were surviving very well.

BK came home with empty pockets and heavy lids.

It was a successful day all in all. Sweet dreams little boy.