Our Future Together

The following are the actual conversations Rhys initiated with me yesterday.

Scene One: Around 9 am, in the kitchen.

Rhys: I will fight Daddy. Then I will marry you, Mommy.

Me: Um, okay...

(This was prompted by Rhys's recent fascination with growing up, and well, I guess his plans include keeping me around. This isn't his first proposal. However, the details were sparked by a previous declaration of his intention to marry me and Aaron's retort: "Well, you'll have to fight me for her.")

Scene Two: Around 7:30 pm, Rhys and I were laying in his bed after reading stories for bedtime.

Rhys: When I grow up I'm going to ride Daddy's bike and you can ride your bike. When we're married.

Me: Okay...

Rhys: And we can have a baby. She'll be a girl. I'll call her Rhys.

Me: Uh-huh.

Rhys: And you can make a girl baby to me. I'll make a boy baby to you.

Me: What will be the boy baby's name?

Rhys: Uuhhhh.... Rhy...Ala... uuhhhhh.... Jade! (A friend from school. But then I think he realized we're naming a boy baby, not a girl baby). Logan! (Another friend from school).

We were both silent for a bit, ruminating, I suppose upon this future.

Rhys: His name will be Tree-Man!

Me: Tree-Man?

Rhys: Mountain Climber Tree-Man.

So there you have it. He later informed me that he'll be grown up when he's sixty-hundred years old, so most of you will be dead when this happens. I, however, will be married to my son, riding my bike, and we'll be doting on our darling Mountain Climber Tree-Man.

(I hope other people find this as funny as I do. I'm laughing to myself so hard that my eyes are watering.

Or maybe those are tears of dismay...)

It's a Bird, It's A Plane...

Rhys is busy being Bat Man, wearing his Halloween costume from last year. He even wore the cape over his clothes up to the farmer's market this morning. Alanna briefly wore Rhys's extra jammy Bat Man cape, but decided she'd rather wear her purple sweatshirt to the farmer's market (it's almost chilly today!).

Just now Alanna stood in the middle of the living room and announced, "I'm Superman!"

She paused, looked at me, and changed personas, much like a superhero:

"Mommy, I'm Nice Man!"

And off she went to save the world (sniff)...

...Or Maybe I DO Need a Camera

I can't say how many times I've wanted a camera in the last couple of days. Rhys has his first biking war wound (a HUGE bruised scrape on his forehead) and I so want to document it. He was such a trooper and finished the bike ride after his fall, and even got back on this morning. We took a long ride/walk as a family, and boy, I wish I had photos to share. And, not that anyone else is really fascinated by my garden photos, but I have a large bowl of eggplant and zucchini I'm about to marinate and bake into bread, and I like documenting the before and after pics.

We're having a lovely, un-photo-documented Sunday.

And we're going camping next weekend, so we'll have to figure something out.

Maybe a Camera was Limiting?

Now that we're without a camera, I'm feeling a bit liberated: I guess I don't have to have a photograph to go with a post. I can just blah, blah, blaaaahg about it in words...

Oh, The Things I've Said

(and sometimes regretted saying)


So far today, each of my children has said back to me a commonly repeated household phrase, which I've then inwardly groaned about. "Household phrase" of course refers exclusively to our own household.

Scene One. Location: Outside on the back patio, sitting at the table. Characters: Alanna and myself. (Alanna has been great about offering to share recently, although whether or not she follows through with her offers has been a little unpredictable.)

Alanna: Mommy, do you want some raisins?
Me: No thank you, Alanna.
Alanna: Do you want some raisins?
Me: No, I don't want any right now, thank you.
Alanna: (After pausing to eat one raisin) But do you want a raisin, Mommy?
Me: No. Thank. You.
Alanna: Yes or no, Mommy.

Explanation:"You need to tell me yes or no" is the oft repeated phrase when small persons have not answered my question in a timely manner and I need to know... well, I need to know "yes" or "no".

Scene Two. Location: Sitting in the comfy chair with the laptop. Characters: Rhys and myself. (We were choosing a movie for Rhys to watch on the computer via Netflix while I worked in the kitchen.)

Me: Maybe you could watch this movie over by the kitchen so I could watch it too while I make strawberry jam?
Rhys: That's not gonna happen.
Me: What?!

Explanation: I get all sorts of crazy proposals and propositions throughout a typical day from small persons, especially Rhys. "That's not gonna happen" is my way to say, "Yeah, keep dreamin' buddy" because he doesn't quite understand sarcasm yet. But he will someday... and then think of the possibilities for phrases I'll regret later!

Note: It's only 1 pm. With bated breath I await the next household phrase to be repeated back to me.

A Lizard's Tale

I'm sitting on the back patio putting new music on my iPod for my gym workouts, grooving to a random selection of songs. The sun is shining, it's 10 am but it's not quite 80 degrees, so it's wonderfully pleasant. Alanna is playing with a friend in the sandbox. I am watching a lizard eat red ants, and thinking, "How awesome! Go lizard, go! Eat those nasty things! You have a place in my heart and are welcome in the backyard." I think he lives under the water barrels because we've noticed him on the turf and in the rocks quite a bit recently. And, truly, he's welcome to share our space (because ultimately, we encroached on his homeland first).

And then there's a ferocious rush and a quick growl as Rusty notices the lizard and charges toward him. The silence and serenity of the morning is shattered. Rusty smashes the lizard against the shed and attempts to eat him. I start screaming, "No! NO! Leave the lizard alone! He's harmless!" and scamper to the site of the massacre, hoping to rescue the reptile. When I reach the place of carnage, the first thing I notice is the squirming tail of the lizard. I think, "Oh, phew, just his tail came off. Good defense strategy!" but then I notice the poor thing on his back, squirming just like his tail, but without one of his back legs. Oh. I don't think that's part of his defense strategy.

Rusty, because he's a well trained dog, has backed off and left the lizard alone. So, it's up to me to scoop up the broken animal, along with his tail, and do something with him. Because I can't kill things with my bare hands, I roll him under the shed to die a slow, painful 3-legged death on his own. I hope he goes into shock quickly and has some sort of happy lizard dream on his way to the reptile home in the sky. And that he has family members who will take over eating the red ants where he left off.

Interesting scientific observation: A lizard's tail, when recently detached from the body, wiggles quite vigorously for a good minute by itself. Fascinating.

So Long, Old Friend

Well, the camera finally kicked the bucket. It's been on its way out for a while, acting wonky, taking terrible, washed out photos, not acting properly. Now when you turn it on, it makes a grinding sound and flashes "E18" on the screen before shutting off. I guess that's the sign that it's finally gone. It is 7 years old- practically obsolete- and it's lived a good life. The 3,000+ photos we have attest to its usefulness and activity level, and it's on its way to a happy place.... well, it's going to the household appliance disposal section at the eco station. Close enough.

Anyway, it's challenging to write posts in my usual way without photos to explain my thinking.

(And to the someone who remarked I needed to update my blog: this is why!)

Upcoming will be a post about a certain someone's 5th birthday party this last weekend (we borrowed a camera).

And by the way- OH MY GOODNESS! HE'S 5 YEARS OLD!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!