'Ello! 'Ello!

The Mud Puddle is currently spending some R and R with his grandparents in anticipation of the holiday weekend. He is always a bit dodgy on the phone and he has to be in a ‘mood’ to talk to anyone, and even then the conversations are usually pretty brief.

So it was a great treat for me when I dialed my parents’ house last night and he answered the phone.
I started talking to him as if he knew who it was and he said after the pleasantries, “Is this my Mummy?” aww.
So I said yes and he told me all about his ride up in Grampie’s truck, the hot dog that he had for dinner and all the fun he was having. Then he dropped the phone. But it really was more than I had hoped to get out of him.

He always discusses whatever happens to be at the front of his brain at the time of the call so you might get a brief description of the toy he is playing with or what his last exciting outing consisted of. Also, if you try and ask him questions he might drop the phone. He doesn’t care for an inquisition and he apparently decides when he is done answering.

He is all for pretending to talk to someone on the phone. He takes my cell phone or Scott’s (or a piece of paper bent like a phone) and holds it up to his ear and ‘talks’ to one of his grandparents or friends and saying things like “Really?!? That is SO cool!” and generally hams it up with over exuberant “UH-HUHS” and the like.

Recently he has started asking me to dial up people on the phone for real and once they have answered and I have passed it along to him (add social secretary to the list of Mommy duties) the conversation can last from 30 seconds (just saying what he wanted to get off his chest) to five minutes.

One of his favorite games is to be sitting at camp (Moosehead as he calls it) and have him on the land line and someone (usually my mom or dad) on the cell phone, sitting at the same table, looking at each other, and talking on the phone.
I am fairly certain that was NOT what Bell had in mind when he invented the marvel of communicating across the miles. I assume he anticipated more than a tablecloth and a Lazy Susan between callers.

As Seen on TV

A rite of passage for any child is to heed the siren song of the television commercial. For the most part we have tried to keep Joshua away from commercial programming for kids (it is Noggin, Disney, and PBS or DVDs for the most part). Recently though he has started watching more and more kids' shows that feature commercials.

The object of his desire dangled in front of his young, consumer eyes in 30 second sound bites is called Yogos. They are described as a ‘yogurt covered fruity treat’. The first time I realized that the Mud Puddle had fallen victim to the flashy images and high octane sound track of a commercial when we were in the market a couple of weeks ago. Headed down the juice and sale aisle all of a sudden from the cart comes “YOGOS!!!!” at the top of his lungs. I nearly fell over from fright. Good God in Heaven, what could possibly cause such an outburst?

He had spied with his eagle eyes the Yogos boxes in the aisle. Now a couple things on this: A. the kid can’t spell so how many times did he have to see the commercial in order to remember exactly what the box looked liked and b. how bad a mother am I that I had no idea what he was talking about? They could have been showing him commercials for crack and I wouldn’t have known it apparently. I realized then just how much of what he watches I tune out.

So I checked out the box and they seemed like they were ok, slightly more nutritious than chocolate. And we put them in the carriage. But he wanted to hold them. And every five seconds would ask if he could have some. Now, this is the same little boy that ‘gets’ the idea of paying for something before you use it. We have had this conversation many times at the bookstore and he usually is pretty good. But these Yogo things had a hold on him that I had never seen before.
We finally paid and he got his Yogos, I tried one and thought they were gross but he loves them.

And now every time the commercial comes on I hear him shouting from the living room, “GO YOGOs!!” He is apparently now a member of the Church of Yogo. Who knew?
I guess a $3 packet of yogurt balls is better than the new, expensive and highly breakable toy du jour.

Death Becomes You

The Mud Puddle has become curious about death. He has started asking where certain people are (my parents’ parents) and when I answer they died and went to heaven a whole long conversation ensues.

Now, he is three. Sure the invitations for his fourth birthday party are ready to go out, but right this second he is still three. And three, is really a wee bit young to be discussing matters of mortality and the afterlife. I was ready for this conversation when he is like, five, but I wasn’t really sure how to tailor my answers to him right now.

We have talked on several occasions about my grandparents demise and he has decided that they were ‘killed’ (which means dead to him, I have tried to explain the difference but he keeps saying killed) after being put in a hole. Now I have begun to wonder if one of the kids at school explained the idea of a grave to him and he is getting the sequence of events mixed up. I try not to ask too many questions about it as I prefer we keep this conversations brief.
One night during such a hole/ kill/dead relatives conversation he asked if everybody dies. And I answered yes, that we do and that someday we will all die. (I TRY to be honest with him on occasion).

Well, that went over like a fart in church b/c the look on his face was complete despair. He plays well at being upset but this was the first time in a long time I had seen the real thing.
“But I don’t want you and Daddy to die,” he told me with genuine tears in his eyes.
Damage Control! DAMAGE CONTROL! Ugh
So I had to promise him I wasn’t going to die anytime soon and neither was Daddy. (which according to MY belief system - which I like to call the “Hedging Your Bets” sect of Christianity – means I should be hit by a bus by month’s end).

So as our tour of all things related to death continues he asks a question that has come up before but I had decided to lie about previously (well, not lie exactly, withhold a truthful answer is probably more accurate, I would tell him that I didn’t know): What happened to Nemo’s mommy?

For those of you who have not had to sit through “Finding Nemo” 78 times as I have, let me explain: Nemo is raised by his dad and is an only child. What the Mud Puddle has never been privy to (that I am aware of) is the first five minutes of Nemo where he has 100 brothers and sisters waiting to hatch with him and a pretty nice mom. She and the other baby fish are eaten by some kind of barracuda looking fish. With a DVD you can skip over chapter in a movie and we always by-pass that one.

I decided after all of our death talk that I should probably come clean, I shot Scott a look asking what he thought I should say and he kind of gave a half nod/half shrug indicating it was ok to spill the matricide – which Disney loves, oh by the way. So I did.
And the look on his face was PRICELESS. His jaw dropped as if on a hinge and his eyes were as big as moon pies and a small, quiet, uncontrolled (I am guessing) “NO!” *Gasp* escaped from his lips. But he didn’t get too upset about it and we moved on to other topics.

I wonder how long it will be before he begins to question where we go after we dig a hole and get killed. I look forward to his thoughts and theories, I am sure they will be insightful if not slightly off base.

How Much is That Doggie in the Window?

Our family has expanded by two new members. We are the proud owners of two French Bulldogs. They are older and more sedate (ok, lazy) than most dogs I have known which is a good thing, given the Mud Puddle’s reaction to them.
Part of the reason we got the dogs was 1. The Mud Puddle is not going to have any siblings and 2. We are dog people and think that the earlier you have dogs the more comfortable you are around them.

He is still not sure how he feels about the dogs in reality. In theory, he loves them, wants to play with them and can’t wait to see them. In reality, he has whined to me when they touch him, sniff him, lick his foot and look at him. Am I honestly expected to control where the dogs look??

And they are great dogs, when he is bombing around the house jumping on furniture and hooting and hollering, they just kind of look at him with a certain amount of curiosity. But they can’t be bothered to get up and follow him.
They don’t have tails for him to step on which is good thing I guess, but he won’t get within ten feet of them so at this point it doesn’t matter.

He is pretty jealous of the attention that they get. I knew there would be some ‘sibling rivalry’ and hope that it is short lived. I can’t not show the dogs affection. I am a dog person and this is how we act around dogs. Get down on their level and pet and scratch behind their ears and necks and tell them what good dogs they are. And guess what? They don’t talk back! Not an ounce of sass coming out of their mouths (Cooper has some foul smelling gas coming out the other end but Walter has cornered the Farting Dog Market so I won’t get into that).

From my point of view, the dogs are a welcome addition to our family. I swear I can feel my blood pressure going down when they are around.
Cooper (the white one) is the most loved up dog I have ever met. He is just all about getting scratched behind the ears and sitting as close as possible (preferably on) to someone.
He does this sighing thing where he snarfs and snorts like a pig. I have always wanted a pet pig so this is probably as close as I am going to get.
Cassidy is a little more independent and definitely the boss.

If you remember the movie “Gremlins” Cooper is what the Gremlin was like before midnight (in looks and disposition)- all sweet and cuddly and soft, while Cass is definitely the ‘you broke the rules and got it wet, fed it after midnight (and by the way, what was the cut off time on that rule, they said ‘after midnight’ but isn’t anytime technically AFTER midnight? Was it from midnight to six? And were these rules written down somewhere for easy reference? See, these are the things you think about when you have seen a movie more than three times). She looks a little like the mean Gremlin, if I am being honest. But she is a sweet girl and has begun to warm up to me (especially my leg. Female dogs love to hump my leg, not sure why, it is just a fact of life).
I am sure that Joshua will eventually love the dogs as much as I do and realize that dogs in general are just a wonderful part of your life. Until he comes around though, it will be interesting to watch him navigate their waters.