Pickle Jar

We decided to have a big jar that we'd throw change into and then donate. As I was explaining this to Jack, I said we could make a sign for the jar. I asked what he would want to write on the sign.

His answer?

"This pickle jar used to have pickles in it but we cleaned it out and now we're putting money in it for people who don't have any money."

Spring Performance

I am a proud stage-mom. Tonight was the Spring Performance at the kids' school. And they were AWESOME. It was ridiculously cute. I think there were a few parents who weren't smiling, and I think they must hate kittens and puppies and flowers and sunshine, and their hearts must be made of stone. ME? My face hurt from grinning so big for so long.

Jack officially "graduated" preschool - cap and diploma and all. Then the big kids sang and danced and did songs in other languages and the ABCs in sign language. It was impressive. Then the toddlers came in and "danced," or more accurately, "stood and stared at the massive crowd while the teachers danced."

Below are a few pictures and videos. You can go ahead and tell me that my kids are the cutest things in the whole world. I won't deny it.

Hatchling

So I might be hatching a baby robin in my bathroom. And yes, this is one of my bad parenting ideas.

Neighbor Nicki's relative (sister-in-law?) found it on her driveway and Nicki said we needed to heat it up because it was too cold. And we wheeled around to find the heating pad, only it's at MY house because I'm borrowing it for my poor aching back. So I was quickly deputized Saver of the Bird.

I went home and tucked it into a nook in the heating pad - turned on low. Chuck came home and I off-handedly told him that I was hatching a baby bird in our bathroom. He told me I was going to cook it, so I ran in and turned it off and untucked it. And I SWEAR that thing moved when I touched it. I SWEAR it did.

What the heck am I going to do if that thing hatches? Will it call for me? How do you feed a baby bird? The only thing I've ever seen is a mommy bird regurgitating into the baby bird's mouth. No. No no. Crap. I'm going to put it into a basket and leave it on Nicki's doorstep.

Conference for a 2 Year Old

Awhile back we were told that we would have Parent Teacher Conferences at the kids' new school. I cracked up at the thought of a conference for a 4 year old. That seems like something for school-aged children.

Well, if the thought of doing one for a 4 year old was funny, then the thought of having one for a 2 year old was flat out HILARIOUS.

Here's the run down:

• He's able to repeat the numbers 1-10 and all of the letters of the alphabet, if someone says them first. He's also learning to say the names of the other kids.
  
• He's generally a good boy.
• He is resisting naps and diaper changes, and yelling "no" a lot.
• She wishes her "sweet Ryker would come back." (After I audibly gasped and then beat the crap out of her, she took it back.)
• He loves the other children. Sometimes he "loves the other children too hard." Apparently he tries to go hug them but ends up tackling and laying on top of them.

So there we go. I can only hope these bullets are different at his high school conferences.

Nuns

Jack announced on the way home that a nun came to his school. I asked why and he said "to tell us about being a nun."

Nice obvious answer.

"Did she explain why she was a nun?"

"Yeah, because she doesn't have a husband or kids. Or a daddy or a husband...And she came in normal clothes but next time she'll come in her outfit."

"Oh, why didn't she wear that today?"

"Because it was raining."

Gain

Ryker is in the Repeat Phase. Anyone reading this with a child under the age of 5 remembers this phase. The rest of you have consolidated these months into a blur of two books, three songs, and one game that you were forced to repeat over and over and over again.

"Gain" is his new favorite word, as in "again."

Tonight he wanted to do rounds of the Itsy Bitsy Spider. I sang it while he did the hand motions. Then Chuck came in and helped out. "Gain Daddy, Momma. Gain." Clapping.

To calm him down and get him to sleep I thought I'd sing You Are My Sunshine (a family favorite). He popped right back up, staring at me and grinning. I got to the end of the first "You are my sunshine" and he chimes in "SHINE!" At the end he clapped. "Gain Momma. Gain. Yay! Gain."

"Again what?"

"Yeah."

"What should we do again?"

"Yeah. Gain....Shine."

Conversations with Ryker

Ryker is quite the Chatty Cathy now. He's learning new words every day, as I've mentioned.

Tonight I was rocking with him before bed. It is one of my very favorite parts of the day. Normally we just rock in the dark and he cuddles into me. Tonight he had different plans. He couldn't stop talking. I stayed quiet, partially to not encourage him and partially because I loved listening.

Here was his monologue, followed by a rough translation.

"Momma Daddy Jashun. Jashun Ohm. Baboon. Momma Daddy Jashun. Baboon. Ohm. Doddy. Shishy."

Translation:

"Momma Daddy Jackson. Jackson Home. Balloon. Momma Daddy Jackson. Balloon. Home. Doggy. Kitty (or maybe Fishy but I'm guessing he was talking about our kitty)."

I have no idea what this monologue was supposed to mean. Then he sat up, looking at me, and did the hand motions to the Itsy Bitsy Spider, saying gibberish that sounded NOTHING like the song. But he was pleased with himself.

I love this age!