Evan Wants to Trade

Evan and I were sitting outside playing with Moonsand, the messiest toy ever, and we were discussing the neighbor's dog, Emma, who was attached to a stake in front of her building, calmly watching her owner Al rake dog poo out of the lawn.

Evan: And what's that dog's name?

Me: That's Emma the dog.

Evan: Emma the dog.

Me: Yup.

Evan: Could I go over there to say hi to her?

Me, talking to owner: He wants to know if your dog is friendly.

Owner: Well, sometimes she is. She's still a puppy and isn't too used to people who live outside her house.

Evan: What did he say?

Me: Well, he said that it will take some time to become friends with Emma. She's a big dog, but she's still just a baby and she's very shy.

Evan: OK. I will say hi to her. Hi, Emma.

Me: Good job.

Evan: Hey mom, I have a great idea.

Me: What is it, Evan?

Evan: Mom, maybe you could leave to another town; and then my dad and my Grandma Marcie can get a dog for me.

Priceless.

Evan Sabotages my Attempt to be a Fun Mom

Finally-- a beautiful winter day that isn't too frigid outside. When Evan came home from school today, I asked, "Hey, wanna play outside on the snow mountains with me? Maybe after we eat lunch?"

"YEAH!" was the enthusiastic reply.

So, after Evan ate lunch and watched a few Tom and Jerry cartoons, I started gathering up our winter gear. "Come on, let's go potty before we go outside."

"No, I don't wanna go potty."

"C'mon, Evan, you don't want to get your winter clothes all wet with peepee when we're outside."

"I'm not going peepee. I'm NOT."

"Yes, you have to before you play outside. I'm going to."

"No, I don't. I don't go peepee."

"OK, fine." I got my hat, coat, boots, and mittens on, and then went to find Evan, who was jumping on my bed and listening to classical music on NPR.

"Look at me, Mom, I'm dancing!"

"I see that. Let's go peepee and get ready to play outside."

"You have to catch me!" I try, mutiple times, and then give up. "Hahaha! Never to get me!" (That last one is his own version of "You'll never catch me.")

Finally, I get fed up. "Well, I'm going outside to play by myself. See you later." I grab my keys and leave the house. I just walk to the mailbox and back. I'm hoping that by the time I get back he will be so freaked out about being left alone that he'll want to come with me to play outside.

I go back in the house, and find Evan crying and coughing. "You can't go outside by yourself! I want to come!"

"Well, then, come play with me outside. Maybe we can find some Santa tracks. Maybe we can find some yellow snow where Marley the dog went peepee. Maybe we can see some Christmas stuff. Want to?" (I'm trying anything to get this kid outside. As I'm saying this stuff, I'm putting on his socks and boots, which he removes each time.)

"No! I want to play inside." He unzips my coat and pulls my hat off my head.

"Fine, Evan. What do you want to play? How about bowling?"

"No, no bowling."

"What do you want to play?"

"I don't want to play anything. Nothing."

"Nothing at all? How about a game?"

"NOTHING!"

"OK, well, I guess you can go in your room and sleep like a baby until you're ready to act nice to Mama and play outside."

"And go to get my bop!"

I find the bop, give it to him, and lay him down in bed. "And don't go anywhere, Mom. You can't go outside. STAY HOME!"

"God, you are so schizophrenic sometimes."

"I'm NOT a 'FRIENDIC'....."

I sigh and close his door. "Yeah, dude, whatever."

"You better not go anywhere! Mom! Mom! Do you listening to me?"

"Yeah, Evan, I won't go anywhere."

Sometimes three-year-olds are really really annoying. I'm trying to be a Fun Mom and Evan does everything in his wee power to sabotage it, which puts me in a bad mood. Why the hell did I spend money on snow boots (which are dreadfully ugly) if I'm not going to be able to use them at all? This is going to be a long-ass winter to be trapped inside, doing NOTHING, which is what Evan wants to do.

Thanksgiving highlights

We spent the holiday weekend in Grand Rapids at our aunts' house. A great time was had by all: the food was splendid, and the company was very good, too.

However, the highlight of my weekend came on Wednesday night, when Angela, Evan, Aunt Janette, and me were playing instruments that Angela had brought on Evan's request. I was on the bamboo rattle, Evan was croaking out time with a wooden frog, Aunt Janette was on the "Hit Stix" (a weirdo toy from the 80's that my mom salvaged from somewhere), and Angela was on recorder.

While playing we discovered that Evan mostly liked "The Drunken Sailor" song. We played it over and over, at varying tempos. We played it over and over, substituting people's names --"What do you do with a drunken daddy, what do you do with a drunken daddy, what do you do with a drunken daddy, early in the morning!"

The best part came when we were about to launch into playing it again, and Evan insisted on counting us off: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5.... Break it down! TAKE IT!" We were all laughing so hard we could barely play.

Evan Comments on Size

Yesterday afternoon, Evan and I went thrifting with my up-North BFF, Shana, whom Evan calls "Yellow Mama" (though we've never figured out quite why).

While we were combing the racks at Goodwill, Evan happened to notice a certain individual. What follows is an accurate approximation of his commentary:

Evan: Mom, Mom, why that person shopping here?

Me, looking around: What person, Evan?

Evan: That person, that BIIIIIG person over there.... he is so BIG!

Me, noticing a very rotund woman browsing the plus-size sweaters: Evan....

Evan: He can't shop here... he is too BIIIIG to fit in this shop!

Me: Evan, anyone of any size can shop at Goodwill...

Evan: But, no, he is too BIG for this shop! No clothes here will fit him!

Me: Yes, Evan, I'm sure she will find some clothes. Goodwill has clothes for all sizes of people, and that's why people shop here.

It could've gone on, had the sofa section not caught his eye. We made a beeline for that area.

Evan Goes "Tricky-Treating"

This year Evan did get into the Halloween spirit. He wore a Batman suit, but not the cape or the mask, and had an eventful day of festive activities.

At school, they had a Halloween party and went trick-or-treating around the building. He decorated a great treat bag which looked remarkably like Frankenstein. I have decided to save it, because it's just so cute. I made it to school in time to hear the kids sing two Halloween songs, "Old Lady" ("There once was a woman all skin and bones, oo-oo-oo-oo; she went outside to take a walk, oo-oo-oo-oo; she went down by the old grave yard, oo-oo-oo-oo...") and some other one I don't remember. I remember "Old Lady" only because I used to sing that in music class as a kid.

One trip we had to make today was to the pulmonologist's office in Lansing. While that was some boring time in the car, he even collected a treat bag at the doc's office-- this one even had toys in it! Play-Doh! Stickers! Coloring book! Oh my!

Then we went back to Grandma Marcie's house and went door-to-door there, collecting yet more loot. The funniest incident of the day occurred there as well. What follows is an accurate approximation thereof:

Evan, knocking on the door: Tricky-treat!

The door opens, a woman with huge glasses, straggly long white hair, and one tooth in her whole face is standing there, proffering up a large bowl of candy: Well, Happy Halloween! And what's your costume?

Grandma Marcie: This is Batman, but he's off-duty, that's why he doesn't have his mask and cape...

Creepy Lady, laughing, her one tooth gleaming like a wet white dagger: Hahahaaahaha!!

Evan, mystified, and reaching for a treat: Look, his teeth are broken. See, Mom? See the broken teeth?

Creepy Lady, still laughing: Hahahahahahaaaa, that's OK... he's right!

Evan: See the broken teeth?

Me, very embarrassed: Yes, Evan, I do see....

Creepy Lady, still laughing: Aaaaahahahahahaha..... Happy Halloween!

Evan, as we're walking away from the door: Why his teeth look like that, Mom? Why his teeth were broken like that?

Me: I dunno, Evan. That's just how they look.

Thankfully then Evan spied another door with a pumpkin sign on it, and we were able to drop the subject of the Lady with the Broken Teeth-- who Evan had also called "him" instead of "her".

When he's older, I'll explain in detail how hard it is for the working poor to get proper dental care. And then I'll tell him how lucky he is to have dental insurance.

Evan Is Honest

An accurate rendition of a conversation between my darling boy and I, in the JC Penney dressing room, while I am trying on-- against my better judgment-- a pair of black "dress" shorts (it's probably worth mentioning here that I haven't worn shorts since about 1999):

Me: Hmm, these are sort of cute.... with some tights underneath, and a belt?

Evan: Oh, Mama, you is not so pretty.

Me: You don't like these?

Evan: These are too short.

Me, looking in mirror at my ass: Yeah, I guess you're right...

Evan: These are not for mommies.

Lady in dressing room next to ours, who hears everything: Don't you just love taking your kids shopping? Nothing compares to their honesty.

Actually, I do love taking Evan shopping, because he is so honest. Scarily, he's often right about fashion. I don't know how he gets it, but he seems to just know when something is cute or not. Maybe he's a fashion prodigy.

So Anal Am I....

.... that while rearranging some shelves in the kitchen, and reorganizing my cookbooks, I made sure to place the fondue ones between the French and Italian ones-- fondue being Swiss and all.

Also, all the Tenspeed Press ones together... first Mollie Katzen, and then some Mollie-Katzenesque knock-off titled "The Potato Experience" (which actually yielded some mighty tasty stuff).

Who occupies the place of honor? The First Lady, Nigella Lawson, and The First Irish Lady, Rachel Allen... with strong preference going to the second at the moment, mostly because she's not as pretentious.