Modesty Thy Name Is Mikie

This morning, Mikie was looking awfully cute in his Bruins hat and new t-shirt. He is known for his amusing shirts at school.

As he came down the stairs, I laughed and said to him, "Mikie, you're so cute." To which Mikie responded, "And I'm smart too."

Obviously, we can rest assured that we are doing a good job with positive reinforcement. Of course, if his ego gets any bigger, he might not be able to fit his head in that hat anymore.

He must get this from his father, because everyone knows that I am the image of humility. . . and I'm smart too.

Love, The Trahans

Dinner Conversation

Usually, our dinner conversation is pretty mundane. Mike and I try and get Mikie to tell us what he did at school, usually to no avail. And, since Mike had turned the Bruins game on, I wasn't expecting much conversation this evening either. Boy, was I in for a surprise.

Mikie had just finished watching a Scooby Doo cartoon where the gang were at a wrestling arena. After it was over, he showed me his "wrestling moves" and was trying to convince me to wrestle him. Luckily, Mike came home, so we postponed wrestling until after dinner. However, as you can tell from the conversation below, wrestling was still on his mind. . .

Mikie: "Mom, I want to go to the wrestling place."

Mom: "Mommy doesn't want you to go because what if you get boo-boos?"

Mikie: "I won't get boo-boos at MY wrestling place."

Mom: "Where is this wrestling place?"

Mikie: "It's all the way at the end of the earth."

Mom: "How do we get there?"

Mikie: "You go over the water. . . then over the OTHER water. . . then past the COWBOY place. . . and past the HOCKEY place. . . then all the way to the wrestling place."

Mom: "How are we going to get there if we have to go over the water?"

Mikie: "You need to drive something that floats."

Mom: "What do we take when we go past the cowboy place?"

Mikie: "Then you drive a car all the way to the wrestling place."

Mom: "Where are we going to get something that floats?"

Mikie: "We need a big boat. We can get a big boat from my HOUSE."

Mom: looking around "This is YOUR house, right?"

Mikie: "Yeah."

Mom: "Where do you think we're hiding a big boat?"

Mikie: "It's hiding under our grass. We have to dig for it."

Mom: "Using a shovel?"

Mikie: scratching at the air "No, we have to dig for it using our HANDS."

At this point, Mike is scribbling frantically to capture the whole dialogue, and I am about to turn blue trying to fight back laughter. Luckily, Mikie didn't notice and continued his explanation of the hunt for the big boat. . .

Mikie: "How are we going to break this earth?"

Mom: "I still think we could use shovels."

Mikie: "No. We're going to have to lift this house up."

Mom: "Who has muscles strong enough to lift this house? Are your muscles strong enough?"

Mikie: "No."

Mom: "So who's going to lift this house?"

Mikie: "You and Daddy."

Mom: "My muscles can barely lift you!"

Mikie: "Can they lift a house?"

Of course! I mean, I can't lift a child weighing 40-lbs, but I'm sure I can lift a two story house!

There was only one way to answer that question and put an end to the conversation. . .

Mom: "I don't know, but we can go outside and try after we finish our dinner."

Just in case you were wondering, I was NOT able to lift the house (I know, and I look so strong). So, we are going to have to find alternate means of procuring a boat.

Love, The Trahans

Ice Skating

Mikie has become quite the skater. As you can see in the video, he skates all by himself now. This makes skating much easier on Mike's back and mine.

Unfortunately, I think all the hockey games he has seen are having a bad influence on him. Last week, he was one of three kids who showed up for the ice skating class:

Charlie is younger than Mikie. He can actually "glide", versus Mikie who still shuffles his feet. But, he lacks some confidence, so he tends to just stand in one place a lot. Of course, he also wears a hockey helmet, complete with cage, that seems a bit too big (I don't know how well he can see with it resting on his shoulders).

Ernie (not his real name, but he wears a Sesame Street bike helmet every week) can't stand on his skates to save his life. This drives his mother crazy (she has literally yelled at him "Come on, this is the fourth lesson, you should be able to do this!")

But I digress. Back to the story. Mikie looked like Apollo Anton Ohno in comparison to the other two boys. By no means was he going fast, he just made it across the ice before the other two even moved. Unfortunately for Charlie and Ernie, Mikie seemed to realize his superiority on skates and skated up to the other two and told them to follow him. I'm sure the teacher must have felt really good about this at the time, being that she had been trying to get all three of them to listen to her. . .

As if that wasn't bad enough, Mikie went over to Charlie, grabbed him by the cage of his helmet, pulled his face right up to his and said "Skate!"
We did tell him (without laughing) that it isn't nice to boss around the other kids. Or grab them by their helmets. Real hockey players have to go in time out for that.

Somehow, I fear that his future as a hockey player may include a fair amount of time in the penalty box. . .

Go Bruins.

Love, The Trahans

Simple Pleasures

It's a bird. . . it's a plane. . . no, it's a SPACE MONKEY!!!

It's amazing what amuses kids. The owner of the daycare recently told me that he felt justified in increasing the tuition by "purchasing" some new toys for the kids. . .

Mikie's toy monkey (aka, the daycare monkey that he adopted a few months ago) now has his own space suit to better equip him for his adventures in space.
As you can see, Space Monkey has his own "helmet" (plastic cup with drawn on smiley face) and "jet pack" (cut up toilet paper roll secured to waist with a rubber band). I am not sure if it could withstand a solar flare, but it seems to hold up against the pommelling of an adoring three year old.

If only I had known in December that a cup, toilet paper roll, and rubber band would amuse my son more than any other toy, I could have saved a lot of money.

Love, The Trahans

Snakes & Snails

Remember the old saying:

Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dogs Tails
That's what little boys are made of.

Boy, were they right. Once again, we sent Mikie off to school looking clean and handsome. Appropriately, he was wearing his "Big Trouble Comes In Small Packages" shirt (which amuses all the staff at daycare).

I think that my child has some magnetic attraction for dirt. The little girls may have toussled hair, but their white stockings are still white, and their faces pristine. Even the other boys look more tidy than Mikie by 5pm. This evening, Mikie took dirty to a new level. The soles of his socks were covered in dirt and wood chips (how this is possible when his shoes were on his feet is a mystery). His hands looked like they had been dipped in dirt: dirt covering the backs and palms, clinging into ever crease and fold, embedded deep under his nails. His face gave new meaning to "five o'clock shadow": the makings of a dirt beard and moustache surrounding his mouth. And, to complete the look: a runny nose.

His teacher's response: "At least you know he had fun."

With Mikie, I never need to worry that he isn't having fun. What I need to worry about is my water bill, as I have to repeatedly wash him and his clothes multiple times a day.

Love, The Trahans

Shopping

Last night, Mikie and I drove to Ann Taylor Loft after work. I had to exchange a shirt from my mom, and didn't want to wait any longer as it had been almost 3 months since she bought it for me.

As we got out of the car, I knew we were in for an adventure. As per his usual, Mikie managed to get himself as disgusting as possible at school. In spite of his cute attire (striped polo shirt and khaki pants), his hair was sticking out in many directions. His face had a mysterious brown substance on it (still not sure if it was chocolate pudding or mud). And, his hands were sticky from grabbing his partially consumed lolly pop by the wrong end.

Before entering the store, I told him "Don't touch anything in here." The last thing I wanted was to be forced to buy a pair of white trousers with sticky brown substance on them, that, with my luck, wouldn't even be my size.

He played with his new helicopter on the floor while we waited in line to make the return. Of course, the ever helpful sales girl asked if I would prefer to pick something else out as an exchange rather than ringing up the store credit. Looking at Mikie (who at this point was landing the helicopter onto the display of sunglasses), I told her we would attempt to shop, but that I wanted the store credit now in case we needed to make a quick exit.

Mikie dutifully followed me through the store as I looked for new clothes. Always vain, he loved the big mirrors mounted randomly throughout the store. Similar to his Auntie Katie, he derived pleasure hiding between the racks of pants in the clearance section. At one point, I looked back to find him standing in the middle of the store, holding a mannequin's hand, looking up curiously at the space where it's head should be. I kept calling his name, telling him to come help me, to no avail. He finally turned to me and yelled across the store:

Mikie: "Mom, none of these people have heads."

Mom: "I know."

Mikie: "I think they all got shooted off."

Mom: "No, I think they never had heads in the first place."

I quickly distracted him by pointing out a really big mirror, before dragging him off to the dressing room so I could try on my selections.

As we entered the dressing room, I told Mikie I needed him to tell me what looked pretty. As he sat down on the bench, he looked at his clothes and said:

Mikie: "These pants fit pretty great. I should wear them every day. And my shirt matches too."

Not exactly what I meant, but I guess I should have been more clear. As I tried on clothes, Mr. Vanity inspected his reflection in the mirror. Until he heard voices coming from another dressing room. At which point, he sat on the floor, trying to look out the door. Of course, I banished him to the corner so he couldn't look at other people changing (luckily, the walls run straight to the floor). At this point, he found a "hockey puck" (aka, button) which provided endless amounts of amusement while I continued to play dress-up.

All things considered, he was pretty well behaved. I don't think the young, pert, petite sales girl who obviously had no children of her own appreciated him much. But, with the exception of a mannequin's hand and the button he stole, he didn't touch anything.

Happy shopping.

Love, The Trahans

Boys vs. Girls

Last week, before leaving for work, I told Mikie that we both needed to use the bathroom before leaving for work. A lot of times, he insists that he doesn't need to go, only to make me pull over half way to work because he has to "go pee-pee on the road". When I make it a rule that both of us need to follow, he seems to be more receptive.

So, I stood in line, waiting my turn to use the bathroom as Mikie went in and started to pee. He looked back at me and said "Come on, Mom. You can go too."

Alas, I had to explain that, unlike Daddy, I could not pee standing up. The girls have to sit down to use the potty. Of course, that warranted the standard "Why?" I explained that girls don't have penises, only boys do, all the while praying that he would not ask "Why" again.

Thankfully, he seemed content knowing he was special, and let me use the bathroom in peace. And, more importantly, forestalling the involved conversation of anatomy for a time when he is (hopefully) much older.

Love, The Trahans