True Self

Yesterday, Ben's class had pajama day. As if the fun and excitement of wearing PJ's to school wasn't enough, the children also had their faces painted. Darby (a little girl in Ben's class) is lucky enough to have a mom who does amazing face painting for parties, etc..

She couldn't have done a better job capturing the true essence of Ben.... even if it does mean he has green skin and horns. He was SO pleased with the results.

Here is a link to her photo gallery. Soon, there will be a set of photos from Ben's class.

Captain Obvious

The waiting is over. Bright and early Saturday morning, Ben pad, pad, padded into our room, positioned his face within millimeters of mine and said:

B: Mom. Mommy.
H: What? It's VERY early in the morning.
B: But Mom. This is a buh-mergency.
H: Oh, what is it (suddenly very awake, thinking something was on fire or worse, that he had peed somewhere gross)
B: Well, can we go to the dog store? Harper would like to come too. Do you know why, Mommy?
H: Why?
B: Because one of my fish got taken out.
H: (pause: thinking--- SWEET! No death talk. No funeral in the bathroom.)
B: Yeah. So we gotta go to the dog store to get a new fish.

So, it only took him 22 days to notice. Maybe not the most perceptive child on the planet, but can you believe my luck? It was a total non-event. Yep. It's totally normal for fish to just disappear. And, of course you just go to the store and get new ones. It's just like the pairs of socks where you can't find the mate or Barbie shoes (remember how you could never keep track of those stupid things?).

When we went to the "dog store" (PetCo) on Sunday to get a new fish, Ben suggested that we might get 2, just in case we "losed" another one. Good thinking. So, we now have 3 little fish swimming in the tank. Names? Ash, Dawn, and Pikachu (peek-uh-jew). Evidently, "team" isn't a good name for a solo fish, so he had to file paperwork to legally change his name. "Dawn" is the girl Pokemon trainer... and thus, the obsession continues (see previous post ).

Subliminal Messages

Goodbye Scooby-Doo. Hello Pokemon (Po-kay-mon). Ben's latest obsessive show has even LESS educational value than the first and even more potential for inappropriate behavior. The craziest part is that he has uncovered a secret side to Pokemon.

Now for those of you not in-the-know, Pokemon is some bizarre Japan-i-mation type cartoon. It's about a boy named Ash who goes on a never-ending quest to be the best Pokemon Trainer ever. What's a Pokemon? Little creatures with various powers and personalities that Ash must catch in a Poke Ball and then train to battle other Pokemon who are owned by other Pokemon Trainers for no apparent reason. I also learned on Wikipedia that Pokemon is evidently Japanese for "Pocket Monsters." That doesn't make them better. Oh, that and it was created by our good friends at Nintendo and the whole purpose of the cartoon was to sell video games. Quality children's programming.

The first Pokemon that Ash captured (way back in 1995) was named Pikachu (peek uh chew) (see photo below).

I forgot to mention, Pokemon can only say their names... it might be the most annoying part of the show. A common series of dialogue would go like this:
Ash: Pikachu
Pikachu: Peek-a, peek-a (high pitched voice, like saying "EEK!" at a mouse)
Ash: Activate "lightning bolt attack"
Pikahcu: PPPPPEEEEEEEKKKKKKK-AAAAAAAA-CHUUUUUUUUUUU (voice becomes possessed and growly, but still high-pitched... like nails on a chalkboard)
(background noise: Heather shoving an ice pick in her ears)

Ben REALLY loves this show and I think his favorite part is acting out random scenes from the show. It was during just such a recreation that Don and I discovered the strange undercurrent that obviously runs through the show.

While playing hide-and-seek in my collection of throw pillows on our bed, he said the following:

B: I'm a Pokemon. Guess which one..
H: Ok.

B: Bagel. Bagel.
H: ummmmmmm.....
B: Duh, Mommy. I'm Peek-a-Jew.

Yeah. You read that correctly... that's what he calls the little yellow guy and that's what he says when he pretends to be said Pokemon.

Prince Charming

I'm not really sure what I'm being buttered up for, but it must be something big. Quotes from the last few days:

Thursday, while getting dressed in the AM
H: There you go! You're all dressed.
B: (looks himself up and down, then looks me up and down) Wow, Mom. You know what?
H: What?
B: We're HOT! We look goooooooooooood.

Wednesday afternoon
B: Mommy, you're such a tiny thing. You're SOOOOOOO cute.

Monday evening
B: What can I help ya' do, Babe?
H: Well, I'm making dinner...
B: I'll be your sa-sis-tant (assistant). You're the master, Mom.
H: That's great. Thanks for helping me.
B: Of course. You're de-wight-ful.

These little moments have been sprinkled with a frequent dose of "Awww, Mom. You're the best." I wonder what he wants.... or maybe more accurately... I wonder what he DID.

Side note: He still hasn't noticed that Baseball isn't swimming around. Now I find myself sending him over to talk to "the fish", just to see how long it's going to take.

When will it be summer?

Because today was one of those days when you feel like it's going to be cold and miserable outside forever.

details: June 2005. Ben was 10 months old and not the least bit ashamed of his flabby baby boobies.

Big News

What an exciting week! Full of big happenings and big news. Ok, STOP. Do you seriously think I'm knocked up? Enough. I'm not. Move on.

This week has been a week of milestones. Ben has officially stopped peeing in his sleep. Wa-hoo! Now if we can just convince him that he really doesn't need to wear a pull-up at night. It's not required. Really, he can just wear underwear. This seems completely crazy to him and we continue to have long conversations about it each night at bedtime that end in me sighing and giving in to a pull-up.

Second milestone of the week: Ben has a "real" pet. He informed me on Monday that he was very sad because he didn't have a pet. "What about those two hairy smelly things that wander our house eating your snacks," I asked. Nope. Those things? Those are "yours and Daddy's pets." I stand corrected. What he really needed, he lamented, was a pet of his very own. Better yet, two pets. Maybe dogs. Nope? Not giving in? Well, how about fish? Well played, Little Man. Start with something so outrageous that even you know it's not going to happen. Then, slide in something that, by contrast, seems not only reasonable, but maybe even a GOOD idea.

Tuesday after school, we trudged to the pet store and Ben chose two of the most beautiful 12-cent "feeder" goldfish he could find. ("Feeder" as in they the goldfish they FEED to the real fish.) We got the tank all ready and introduced the guys (gals? how do you tell?) to their new home.

Their names, you ask? Well, we went through several naming cycles. When he first mentioned getting fish, he only wanted one and he was going to name it Barack Obama (can you tell who Mommy and Daddy might be supporting in our upcoming election?). Then, he realized, hey-- one fish is great, but two is better. He thought "Harper's Best Friend" and "Abby's Best Friend" were perfect names. But, when it came down to it, that's far too much to say when you are giving fish a verbal instruction, so he settled on "Baseball" and "Team." You know... Baseball Team.

"Baseball" is all orange, "Team" has a black stripe

Ben spent the next hour sitting on the floor watching them swim around. About every 5 minutes, he'd climb up by the tank, hug it and then flick the lights on and off.. on and off... on and off... (only really quickly). I mentioned that the poor fish were going to have seizures and that I didn't know fishy-CPR, so he should lay off the light show.

There may have been something to that seizure thing because Friday morning, I went over to the tank and found that Baseball was, ummm, "out of the park". Before Ben woke up, Don and I said a few kind words about good ol' Baseball and sent him to his final resting place.

All day I waited for Ben to notice that "Team" was without a sport. I silently practiced all sorts of scenarios for where he had gone..... Baseball camp? SCHOOL (get it?)? That "Baseball" was really a secret agent and had been called away on a top secret mission to the toilet? That he had joined the "Disney on Ice" production of Finding Nemo? The kid never asked.

So, here it is Saturday night and another day has gone by without Ben noticing that one of his beloved pets is gone. Man, I'm glad we didn't decide to buy him a little brother or sister.

Ooooh, Barracuda

Ben is well on his way to becoming a rock star. He prefers classic guitar rock and won't play "Freebird" no matter how much you yell.