Breaking & Entering

There is such a thing as "too smart for your own good." Or for your parents' own good. . .

If you have been to our house, you know that we put locks on some of the bifold doors. Specifically, Mikie's closet (so he can't make a mess while we are sleeping) and the pantry (for obvious reasons). The "locks" consist of a simple hook and eye closure that is placed about an inch above my head (about 5 feet 4 inches or so).

In addition to getting taller, Mikie has been getting smarter. Here is a video of his latest trick: breaking into the pantry to make himself a peanut butter sandwich. Note the way he applauds himself on grabbing the peanut butter, singing "I got the peanut butter, I'm the man!"

Yes, we did sit and watch, rather than help, for two reasons. First, he is Mr. Independent and HATES when we help him ("No, I can do it" is a favorite phrase). Second, he has been doing this since shortly after Easter, and we have yet to document it. The first time, I was trying to get Mikie out the door to school. I was pouring myself a glass of juice, when I turned to catch Mikie pulling a HUGE chocolate Easter bunny out of the closet, proudly proclaiming "Mom, I'll eat THIS for breakfast."

At least this time, he made more healthy food choices.

Love, The Trahans

A Whole Lot of Love

On the drive back from visiting family in Rhode Island, Mikie informed us that he was hungry. When I asked him what he wanted to eat, he said "name some stores we eat at." Instead of naming stores, I suggested we go home and have a peanut butter/bread/goldfish sandwich (one of his favorites), followed by ice cream. My rationale was that by suggesting we make ice cream, he wouldn't suggest going to Friendly's.

Of course, my idea backfired, because the next thing out of his mouth was "I have a good idea. . . let's go to Friendly's." To which I responded "That is a good idea. We should go on Thursday" (since Thursday is his favorite day, I thought he would go for it). Again, I was completely wrong. The conversation continued like this:

Mikie: whining "Noooo! We should go today!"

Mom: "But I don't want to go today because I don't feel good. Let's just go home and Daddy can make you a Chocolate Monster ice cream with ears after dinner."

Mikie: "Noooo! That would be a BAD idea."

Mikie: after a pause "Guys, I have a good idea. We can drop Mom at home and Dad and I could go to Friendly's."

Mike: "Well, that is a well thought out plan."

In my head, I'm thinking, "Sure, throw the old broad out of the car now. She can walk home from here. . . it's only a few miles."

It's nice to be loved.

Love, The Trahans

The Driving Lesson

Thankfully, they don't grant drivers licenses at age 3 1/2. Click here to view footage of Mikie playing MarioKart with Mike.

If it wasn't obvious when he turned the steering wheel around a full 360 degrees, the fact that he enjoys when he falls off the cliff into the black void makes me not want to get in a car with him behind the wheel.

Love, The Trahans

Excuses

I am going to write a book of all the excuses my child has come up with. Needing to go to Target because it might close FOREVER is still one of my favorites. But, this morning he had a pretty good one for why he needed a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup for breakfast. . .

Mikie: whining "I need a piece of candy because I'm sad because on Friday I was choking all day."

Mom: "So, let me see if I understand. You need a piece of candy because on FRIDAY you were choking all day?"

Mikie: exasperated "Okay, so now can I have a piece of candy?"

I rationalized that Reese's contain peanut butter, an excellent source of protein (and therfore good for you). And, honestly, is it that different from the peanut butter sandwich he occasionally eats for breakfast? So, I compromised and gave him half. With some muffins (whose nutritional value Mike will not question when reading this post).

In addition to writing the book, I am going to have "Sucker" tatooed on my forehead. . .

Love, The Trahans

Bad Dreams

This evening, as Mike was putting Mikie to bed, Mikie made him promise that if he had a bad dream, Mike had to call the police. The REAL police.

I can imagine that call:

Operator: "911, what's your emergency?"

Mike: "Yes, my son had a bad dream."

Operator: "And?"

Mike: "That's it. He told me to call the police."

I'm sure they would really appreciate that call. Especially if it came in at 3:00 in the morning.

Evidently, we aren't good enough to scare away bad dreams. We need to bring in the big guns.

Love, The Trahans

Thomas

Since the weather forecast called for rain (and we were still tired from yesterday), we decided not to attempt gardening on Sunday. After spending the morning snoozing, I decided we needed to get up and do something. I went online and found that Thomas the Tank Engine was in town. Well, relatively speaking. He was actually nearly an hour and a half from our house. But, he was only going to be around until Monday. And, since we talked about taking Mikie for the last two years, I decided if we didn't go now, we would never go.

We all rushed to shower and get dressed. Mikie even dressed himself (something he is very motivated to do when he thinks it's a race). And, by 2:15, we arrived in Edaville, temporary home of Thomas the Tank Engine. As you can see from the pictures below, we had a great time. For $18 a person, we got a 25 minute train ride on Thomas. But, admission also included free rides (we were expecting to have to pay more). So while waiting for our departure time, we had some fun.

Mikie and I rode the elephant ride:All three of us rode the Merry-Go-Round. If you click on the picture, you can see video of Mikie on his horse. He sat closest to the center, so he could look at himself while riding. Listen closely, and you can hear him "going up and going down."
We also took Mikie's first ride on a Ferris Wheel. Mikie was not scared at all. . . he actually liked rocking the basket. Mike wasn't too keen on the ride, especially when we were ascending to the top. Evidently, he didn't like seeing the inner workings of the ride (no faith in the RPI education G.W. Ferris received). Thankfully, the rain held out, and we had a great time.

Love, The Trahans

The Chinese Restaurant

After our trip to the beach, we decided to take advantage of being in Rhode Island by heading to our favorite Chinese food restaurant, Lucky House, in Ashaway. This was rather adventurous, since Mikie does not like Chinese food. But, being that he was in a good mood AND we had fed him a hot dog right before leaving the beach, we thought we would press our luck.

Mikie was pretty good, all things considered. We did however realize that he isn't the most politically correct child. At one point during dinner, Mike threatened to tickle Mikie, to which Mikie loudly responded "I'll take you down to Chinatown, Dad."

Luckily, none of the Asians in the restaurant seemed offended.

Love, the Trahans

The Beach

After a grueling Saturday morning of weeding flower beds, laying down weedblock and mulch, Mike and I gave up gardening in favor of a trip to the beach. We hadn't seen his mom & Norm in a while, and the only time we can in the summer is if we go to Misquamicut. (FYI, for anyone who doesn't know, Norm owns a snack bar down on Misquamicut beach that he and Kerrie spend every waking minute at from April through September).

So, we packed up our sandbuckets and towels, donned our bathing suits and were off. It's never hard to convince Mikie to go visit Grandma Kerrie and Grumpy, since he knows they will let him work the soft serve ice cream machine and make the largest cup of chocolate ice cream imaginable.

We set up camp close to the snackbar, so that we could visit if and when there were slow times. And, as you can see from previous posts, Mikie likes to be close to the hill of sand, in case he feels the need to run or roll in it.

My favorite part of the beach is people watching. And, boy I wasn't disappointed. We were seated next to a lovely family (sarcasm noted). There were a number of young children, and a few people who must have been the adults, although, I use the term "adult" loosely since the party lacked any figure of authority. At some point, one of the adults and most of the children decided it would be fun to feed the seagulls. Needless to say, this annoyed me to know end since seagulls were swooping overhead from all directions to get at the Twinkies they were throwing(yes, they were feeding them Twinkies). After doing this on and off for about 15 minutes, and gathering quite the flock, one of the adults realized they should stop. The children didn't listen until they ran out of food to throw. But, not before one of the hungry birds shat on one of the adults. Hmmmm, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to feed the seagulls? This group was only at the beach for the sun, so as 4:30 rolled around and one of the kids got sand in her eye, they packed it up and left. Mikie, had a great time. In addition to his ice cream, we made sand castles. In reality, I made sand castles and Mikie poured buckets of water over them when I was done to watch them melt away. He also buried his feet, and ate sand. Typical three-year old stuff.As Norm and Kerrie closed up for the day, we cleaned up and headed back home.

Love, the Trahans

Golf. . . a Contact Sport

I've always said golf and baseball would be more interesting if there were time limits, and if they were more contact oriented, like football and hockey. Could you imagine if Tiger Woods went up to put, and out of nowhere, Rocco Mediate ran up and tackled him? Come to think of it, I think someone made a commercial like that several years ago. . .

Anyway, Mikie obviously is trying to start a movement to make mini golf a contact sport. He has already combined mini golf with hockey, in that he feels all balls are fair game, and there is no stop in play while waiting for your competitor to swing. But, on Friday, he took it to a new level. Donning his newly aquired shin pads (he starts pee wee soccer in the fall), he clubbed me in the shins while swinging at the ball. See pictures below:
Luckily, he felt bad when he realized that I didn't have any shin pads myself. And, I felt bad after yelling at him (I was in pain) that no one plays golf this way (especially when he looked around and noticed that no one else was wearing shin pads).

He continued to buck the system by wearing his "gear". Although, he compromised and stopped trying to take me out when I went to put my ball into the hole.

Love, The Trahans

The Family Pet

Lots of families have pets. Typically they are dogs or cats. Occasionally they are smaller animals like fish, hampsters, hermit crabs. But how many families can say they are the proud owners of a pet worm? The Trahans can.

Yes, never to be branded as "typical", Mikie found a worm at school. After "playing" with it in the sun, the teacher thought it would be best to give Mikie a cup of dirt for the worm to live in. As she put it, the worm was looking a bit "dehydrated".

By the time I arrived at school, Mikie, who was covered in more dirt than the worm, was running to show me his new friend. I couldn't see the worm in the dirt; the teacher thought it was hiding. Honestly, it's amazing the worm didn't have a heart attack from being "loved" by my son.

Now came the fun of transporting Mikie and Wormy (his official name is Wormy Squirmy) home. To prevent the worm being unleashed in the car, I thought it best if Wormy traveled in the cup holder next to me. Thankfully, he is a well behaved worm, and didn't attempt to exit his plastic cup while the car was moving.

When we got home, Mikie proudly showed us all Wormy. Part of him was still pulsing, so we think he is still alive and well. We transported him to a larger glass bowl with some fresh dirt (since worms eat dirt). And, he is currently resting on the kitchen table.

I think Mike finally agrees that our child is DESPERATE for a pet, dog, hampster, or, in this case, worm. So, we will start looking more seriously into a dog (since I had bad luck with hampsters as a child). And, in a few days, I will attempt to convince Mikie to return Wormy to his mom and dad in the school playground.

In the interim, here are pictures of Mikie and Wormy:
I'd just like to note that I did ask Mikie if any of the other boys got pet worms. His reply, "No. But I got a worm."

Love, The Trahans

UPDATE: Sadly, Wormy is no longer with us. He passed away sometime in the evening of June 17th. Maybe the excitement of the Celtics crushing the Lakers was too much for him. Or, more likely, he may have gotten sick from the blend of dirt and Miracle Grow potting soil I put him in. Not having the heart to break it to Mikie, we convinced him that Wormy was "homesick" and that we should let him live in our garden.

¿Hablas español? Claro que sí!

Translation: Do you speak Spanish? Of course!

Now, I don't know about anyone else, but when I get up and get in the shower in the morning, I am not completely awake. Heck, many days I leave the overhead light off and shower by the filtered sunlight trickling in through the window. While I CAN wake up and get things accomplished, I don't consider myself a "morning person".

So, at 5:45 in the morning, I was not expecting my three year old to come storming into the bathroom screaming, "Come downstairs with me, Mommy." It took me a few seconds for my brain to process that the loud voice I was hearing a) belonged to my child and b) was talking to me. I called back, "I can't; I am taking a shower." Evidently, he either didn't notice or didn't care, because he continued to insist that I come downstairs to play. The volume of his demands was quickly breaking through the fog in my head. As reason set in, I poked my head out of the shower and said "You go downstairs now, and I will come down after I am done showering." As per his usual, Mikie made sure to reiterate the terms of our agreement, to make sure I understood:

Mikie: "I will go downstairs, and you can come downstairs after your shower. ¿Comprendo?"

Mom (to self): Did he just say "Comprendo?" Where would he pick that up? No one he knows speaks Spanish. . .

Mikie: louder "Mom, ¿Comprendo?"

Mom: "Comprendo."

I am still not sure where he learned this. I later found out that he said something similar to one of his teachers last week at school too. Evidently, just asking "Okay" isn't good enough anymore. He has to say it in another language. Not sure if he is being cute or a smarty pants. . .

Con amor, Los Trahans

Slang

Tonight, I was talking on the phone and making Mikie's bed up with clean sheets. Mikie (always needing to talk to me when I am having a conversation with others) came over and started talking:

Mikie: whining "Mommy, I want. . . I want. . . I want. . . I want. . . "

Mom: "Mikie, spit it out!"

Mikie: confused "But there's nothing in my mouth."

Eventually, I stopped laughing, and he told me what he wanted to say (that he didn't want to go to bed).

Good thing I didn't say "put a sock in it."

Love, The Trahans

Red Sox Nation

Every time I have been to a baseball game, I have seen little boys, not much older than my son, watching the game with their dads. They have their hats on and their gloves. Their excitement shows on their faces. They are ecstatic just to be watching a live baseball game with their dads.
Yesterday, we found out that this image does not apply to Mikie. Why we thought Mikie would be like a typical child (when he is atypical in most ways) is beyond me. Yesterday, we dared to take Mikie to his first Red Sox game at Fenway Park.

I think we were doomed to fail. First, Mikie may have inherited my dislike of baseball. Honestly, the sport needs a time limit. Every other sport has one. Having said that, my interest in baseball has definitely grown, being forced to watch it every night the Red Sox have played for the last 21 months that we have lived here. I know the majority of the players, although there are a few I don't particularly care for, not to mention names (Manny DelCarmen). And, watching the game at Fenway is totally different than watching a game at any other ballpark I have been to (which, to be honest, is only Camden Yards).

As you can see from the picture below, Mikie evidently found the game too long as well. Before they started singing the National Anthem, Mikie was asking when we could go home. It didn't help that his view was obstructed by the people sitting in front of him. And, since we were in right field, there wasn't much action close at hand to keep him entertained. When the ice cream vendor walked by, he fell out of his seat in his zealousness to get an ice cream. Unfortunately, the guy was peddling Hoods ice cream cups, not soft serve in a plastic ball cap. So, Mikie ended up passing on the ice cream until Mike gave in and took him to the concession stand.
We had some tramatic experiences on the subway ride home as well. Without going into too many details, the meltdown Mikie had on a crowded subway was momentous. I think there are plenty of people in the Boston area who are reconsidering procreating after witnessing the display he put on. One woman even offered me her seat, claiming it looked like I needed it, given the "handful" we had to deal with. Of course, as soon as the majority of patrons exited the train (hopefully, because it was their stop and not because of the noise), Mr. Hyde turned back into a happy three year old. He sat happily in his seat until we reached our station.

As usual, we took away some valuable parenting lessons: first, spending money to take a three year old to a baseball game is not advisable, no matter how much interest he has shown in the sport beforehand. Second, if you DO decide to take said child to a sports game, make sure you had no intention of watching the game yourself. Because, you will inevitably end up distracted when someone makes a noteworthy play (like a 3 run homerun). Finally, keeping a child awake past their usual bedtime to watch a game that he has no interest in seeing disrupts the child, the parents, and CITIES of innocent victims who are forced to witness his overly exhausted temper tantrums.

On the plus side, the Red Sox won. Even if we weren't there to see the whole game.
Go Sox.

Love, The Trahans

The Wedding

Two weeks ago, we traveled to Kingston, NY for my cousin John's wedding. We forced Mikie into a shirt and tie (as opposed to the t-shirt he wanted to wear), and coerced him into going with us with the promise of swimming in the hotel pool afterward. He kept the tie on for the entire ceremony, probably because he was unconscious. We're not sure if he was just tired, or if we gave him a mild concussion when we lifted him into the golf cart that drove us from the parking lot up to the ceremony site. As soon as the ceremony ended, he ditched his "costume" (as he affectionately referred to his tie), unbuttoned his collar, and started to party. First on the list, grab a drink from the bar. He stuck with water on the rocks, even though there were a few instances where I wished he was drinking something a little stronger to help sedate him. Second order of business: climb on the rocks with the other kids. Shortly after we entered the reception area, it started pouring. Unfortunately, the reception site was not parent-friendly. Since the sides opened to the outdoors, there were many opportunities for smaller children to run free. And, Mikie took advantage of ever opportunity to get away. As soon as the rain started, Mikie found his way outside. I wasn't his friend for a good part of the evening (having ruined his fun by insisting he get out of the rain). But, he forgave me before they cut the cake.

Unfortunately, by 9:30, it became very evident that Mikie was up past his bedtime. We ended our evening short and headed back to the hotel. He got a second wind when we arrived, and informed Grand Da that we should go swimming. After hugs and kisses to Grand Da and Aunt Nancy, we all went to bed.

I did make good on my promise of the pool. . . Mikie and I were the first people in when the pool opened at 9am. He was upset that I didn't bring his life jacket, so he couldn't swim by himself. But, after 30 minutes of playing in the water, he had completely forgotten.

Here are some pictures from the wedding:

John, Tom, & Bill standing at the altar.
Brienna, walking down the aisle.
Mikie and Grand Da, looking dapper in their dress clothes.
Mikie and Dad admire the view of the Catskills.John & Brienna cut the cake. . .
while Mikie enjoys eating the cake.

Love, The Trahans

Virtual Tour

While we were in New York for my cousin John's wedding, my Aunt reminded me that in the 18 months since we moved (and since starting this blog), I keep promising to post pictures of the house. And, I still haven't done it. So, for the people who have not yet seen our house, I present "The Virtual Tour". Kind of. . . it's really just a slideshow of pictures. But, it's better than nothing. For the people who have already seen our house, you can either watch and be impressed by my slideshow skills (ha ha). Or, you can skip ahead to the other posts.
Because of issues with the various "slideshow" programs I found, there are no captions. But, it is a house. I'm sure you can all figure out what each room is (the bathrooms are the ones with toilets, the kitchen is the one with the appliances). I took pictures of everything except the basement. I even included pictures of some closets. The small closet is the "laundry room" (I use the term "room" loosely since it is a small closet.) It's the one with the laundry and a washer & dryer in the picture. The large closet is the master closet. It has a walk-out attic (the room that looks like an unfinished storage area). If the Celtics win the NBA Finals, Mike may turn the attic into an indoor basketball court in celebration. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Grass is Always Greener

Have you ever been somewhere and you see other people's children sitting quietly and coloring, or helping, or just LISTENING to their parents? And, you can't help but wonder for a split second "why can't my child be like that?" I think everyone does (and if they don't, please don't spoil my delusion). . .

Last night, watching Jay Leno, I saw a clip that made me realize that I have a lot to be thankful for. Jay has a segment "Dealing with the Public" where he plays amusing 911 tapes and surveillance footage. The third clip he played was of a call from a "4-year-old boy" who was being "abused." You can click here to watch. They show the clip at 13:43 into the show from June 3rd. I've listed the transcript below in case you are in a hurry:

Child: "Could you come get my Nana?"

Operator: "You want us to come get your Nana?"

Child: "‘Cause Nana’s being mean. . . "

Operator: "She’s being mean?"

Child: ". . . yeah. . . "

Operator: "How ‘bout if you let me talk to Nana? I’ll talk to her."

Nana: "Who is this?"

Operator: "Hi, this is Eaton County 911. Is this Nana?"

Nana: laughing ". . . yeah. . ."

Operator: "Well I have a report by this 4-year-old that you’re being mean."

Nana: "He’s not getting his way, I want him to put his underwear on and he won’t do it."

Operator: laughing "I think that’s perfectly fine, and we will not send the police for that. Thank you, ma’am."

Nana: "Thank you."

Operator: "Bye-bye."

Nana: "Bye-bye."

Could you imagine having to explain to a 911 operator that you weren't being mean to your child? I mean, Mikie has threatened to call the police on me (see January's post And The Oscar Goes To), but he has never actually followed through on it. Granted, I'm sure it helps that he doesn't know what the number 9 looks like yet. . .

Love,
The Trahans

I'm With Crazy

I think I need to have that put on a T-shirt. Or tatooed on my forehead. People might stare less. . .

Today, I picked Mikie up from school before lunch to go to the pediatrician's office. He had a cut on his head that was getting larger and more inflamed as the week went on. So, I wanted to have someone else look at it to make sure it wasn't infected.

In the 4 hours he was at daycare, Mikie miraculously managed to get dirty and sweaty. I know, it's hard to believe, but somehow he managed. I quickly grabbed his Lunchable and threw him in the backseat with a Scooby Doo cartoon, and we were on our way.

By the time we arrived at the pediatrician's, Mikie was even messier. He decided that the Oreo cookies that were the "snack" part of his Lunchable made a tastier turkey sandwich than the Ritz crackers. Yes, he ate two chocolate stuffed Oreo's with a slice of turkey in between (I think it's safe to cross "chef" off his list of potential career paths). He now had dirt covered knees, a chocolatey beard, and sweaty hair sticking up from his head at very odd angles. And, appropriately, he was wearing his "Five Reasons I'm in Trouble" t-shirt. Since I was dressed in work clothes (I even put on dress shoes in place of my slippers to look more professional).

So, making quite the mismatched pair, in we walked to the waiting room. And, since Mr. Personality decided to run around the office, everyone got to see how "handsome" he looked.
We eventually made it out of the waiting room and into the exam room. The doctor walked in and examined the cut. I started explaining the history, at which point Mikie, in the most exasperated tone ever, rolled his eyes at me and shouted, "IT'S JUST A BUG BITE MOM! YOU CAN WASH IT LATER!" The doctor thanked "Dr. Michael for his astute assessment". Meanwhile, I couldn't help but think, "You couldn't have told me this yesterday and saved me a $20 copay, 80 miles of gas and 3 hours of my life?" But, as Mike pointed out, I wouldn't have believed him if he did tell me. . . after all, he is only three.

The doctor told us to monitor the spot for the next week and call if it gets worse. She said it could have been a bite that he bumped recently and was bleeding under the skin. Looking at him, she said "After all, it looks like he is not unfamiliar with bumps and bruises."
And, as if on cue, Mikie chose that exact instant to throw himself off the examination table, landing on the floor on his hands and knees.

At least it was farely obvious his wounds are self inflicted. .

I really am a good mom. I swear.

Love,
The Trahans