Priorities

Brian said something last night that did two things: First, it made me melt. He can be so freakin' sweet sometimes. Second, it reminded me about priorities, and what's really important.

He had fish sticks for lunch at Kindergarten, and was excited about them (he'd never had fish sticks before). They were served with tater tots. If you know me, you may know that I really like tater tots. I try to never buy them because I could and would cook and eat the whole bag all by myself while the boys were somewhere else. I made a comment about loving tater tots, and about how they were right up there on my list of favorite things.

Brian's response? "Know what's my favorite thing, Mommy?"
Me: "What, sweetie?"
Brian: "Loving my family."

Priorities, the boy has them, no?

Where's your anchor?

Transition to Kindergarten has not been all smooth, sad to say.

Now, I've been hesitating posting this because I'm not sure that I want this particular event associated with him permanently on ye old interwebs. Suffice to say, he acted out one day in his after school program, directed at one of the teachers there.

Brian and I had a long talk that night, and I started it off by asking him why he did what he did. Of course, he launched into a long and involved story about how he was wronged by another child. I tried to follow the winding narrative, and the bottom line was that he acted out towards a teacher, but he was actually angry with another child.

Which launched us into a discussion about dealing with anger appropriately. I actually thought the talk went quite well, and I managed to hit all the right points about how it's never okay to get physical with someone, and you have to find other ways to work through things, and sometimes it IS really hard to handle your anger.

He was saying all the right things, and nodding at all the right times, so I thought he was right there with me.

That is, until about 10 minutes into this conversation when he looked at me and asked, "Mom, how do you handle your anchor if it's attached to a ship?"

Sometimes, I forget that for all the eloquence, he's only five.

The World's Worst Pick Up Line

Brian was excited and nervous about his first day of Kindergarten, and it showed in our conversation on the way. He jumped from talking excitedly to nervous silence and back several times. We got this gem, though, which I'm still giggling over.

Brian: (after a period of silence) Europe.
Me: What about Europe, honey?
Brian: What is Europe? Is there a state named Europe? A city?
Me: Europe is a continent.
Brian: What's a continent?
Me: It's a larger area of land than a state or a country.
Brian: Oh, okay. Your name is Europe.
Me: huh?
Brian: You look like a Europe. Your name is Europe.
Me: Um, okay...
Brian: Syrup.
Me: (confused silence)
Brian: You are syrup, mommy.
Me: I am?
Brian: Yes, you are syrup - you're so good I want to put you on a pancake.
Me: (Uncontrollable giggles for the remainder of the ride.)

I hope that by the time he actually has a need to woo someone outside of his mother, his pick up lines get better.

Growing Up...

Brian is, as I type this, at his first day of Kindergarten. I can't believe that he's already starting school.

We had a very recent change of school plans because a school choice spot opened up at the last minute. We managed to get him registered and get all the paperwork done, and all that was left was for him to meet his teacher, see his classroom, and start getting excited.

When that time came, Brian and I got to the school - he was wrapped around my arm, snuggled up as close as he could be to me and still walk on his own. If I had offered, he probably would have let me carry him. (I didn't - dude is getting BIG!)

We got into school, and escorted down to his classroom - the entire way there, he was in that same nervous position under/around my left arm. Upon our arrival in the classroom, out of nerves, he stayed there. I chatted a bit with his teacher, Brian shyly met her, and then started to unwrap himself from me - he started just moving away but still holding my hand, but quickly graduated to darting around the room asking questions about toys and signs and making himself comfortable. He got to the point where he was opening cupboards, and I knew he felt right at home.

Once he started opening up, there was no way to get that shy nervous child back - by the time we left to get back to the car, he was skipping on ahead of me down the hallway, turning around and asking if I was coming.

My baby, growing up and away in the matter of an hour. I'm so proud of him and the boy he's becoming.

Getting a good start...

Bri had a horrible attitude yesterday. What started as a simple battle of the wills ended in yelling and door slamming and a few "I hate you!"'s thrown in for good measure. We were supposed to go over to Grandma's house, but I wasn't going to take him anywhere with his attitude as it was.

So, I calmly told him he needed to change his attitude, and help me clean up the living room (after he threw something and kicked a kids chair over in it) before we could go. More will battles, more doors slammed, more yelling. You get the idea, I'm sure.

Finally he got to some measure of calm, and asked me when I was going to help him clean. I told him he needed to show me he was serious by getting started cleaning, and I would help him as soon as he did that. (After all, I wasn't the one who had thrown things and kicked a chair over!)

He pouted. He sat down angrily in a chair. He crossed his arms. He glared at me. I did my best to ignore him, and told him again, that once he got started, I would help him. Then he said, "I've got a good start to cleaning - running away!" and proceeded to dash down the hallway away from me.

It was all I could do not to laugh out loud, but I really didn't want to encourage him.

Mommy's eating WHAT?

Grandma and Grandpa have biscotti at their house - since it's not something I usually buy, I get it when I'm there as a rare treat. I poured myself a cup of coffee, and grabbed one for a snack. X. sees me across the kitchen, points and yells:

"Mommy is eating a BONE!"

What X. Wrote...

We interrupt Brian's blog for more information on his little brother.

This state has some strange laws around daycare, and one of them is that if they give juice, it has to be full strength, not diluted, even if it's at Mom's request. Given that, X is not allowed to have juice at school.

The other day, he was having a hard time with this particular rule, probably because he saw someone else get juice and not him. He proceeded to throw a fit, and one of his teachers, quite brilliantly asked him if it would help if they wrote a note to me to tell me what he was upset about. He helped dictate a note to me which read:

"Dear Mom, X. wants juice at school."

While getting a note like that from my 2.5 year old is amusing under any circumstances, I found it especially so given the report that he calmed down right after they wrote the note and promised that I would get it.

I love that he can express himself, and that the teachers help him to do so in a way that calmed him down and gave him some power in the situation.

He's still not getting juice at school.

Toy Story 3 - It's Darker...

Brian and Dan went to see Toy Story 3 over the weekend. I got to stay home and have 1 on 1 time with the youngest Friedling.

When the movie goers got home, I asked how the movie was.

Dan "It was much darker than the other episodes."

Brian "Of course, Dad, that's because we saw it in the movie theater." (Picture an accompanying look of annoyance on his face, you know, the "DUH!" look kids do so well).

Toy Story

We had a bit of a Toy Story marathon over the weekend - we watched Toy Story on Saturday, and then followed that up with Toy Story 2 on Sunday. Both were well received, but Brian came out with this gem at the beginning of 2:

"We already know how it's going to end. Woody is going to get home and be back with all the toys. He's going to beat the bad guy, and everyone will be happy."

Only five, and jaded already.

Way back in December...

I realized that this little gem had never been recorded on this blog, and I needed to rectify that pronto.

We had recently decided that Brian was ready for some chapter books. I decided that Charlotte's Web, being my favorite book from childhood, was a good place to start. I spent many weeks reading to him from the book, including a rather long hiatus mid book when he decided he just didn't want to hear about Charlotte, or Wilbur, or Fern, or Avery, or anyone of the barn animals.

We finally finished the book in December. We were at my parent's house for Christmas, and I remember pulling out the book, Brian in my lap, realizing that we were on the last chapter. I tried not to tear up at the ending, but alas, I've never been able to read the last line of the book without choking up just a little. This reading was no different.

I looked at Brian hopefully - did he enjoy it? Did it mean as much to him?

He was quiet for a moment, and then said "So what happened?"

Three little words that hit me right in the heart.

Splitting hairs

Brian had a horrible morning yesterday. Really, really horrible. I don't know what set him off, but suddenly all the anger and frustration that could possibly reside in a five year old boy was directed at me. During the car ride on the way to day care, I was told repeatedly how much he hated me.

How he never loved me.

How he would never love me.

How he would always hate me.

~Insert your own variations on the theme here - I'm sure you get the idea~

I calmly (and very Zen Mom-ly [Thanks, Molly!]) told him after each of these statements that I loved him, and would always love him, and nothing he could say or do would make me stop loving him. All of which is true.

But each of these statements was accompanied by kicking my seat, my arm, the middle console of the car (but mostly my arm and my seat), harder and harder and harder. Each of those kicks made it harder and harder to add the "or do" part of the above statement.

At one point, I reached back, and grabbed his ankle, and held it still. (And this is where Zen Mom disappeared for a few minutes). "STOP PUSHING MY BUTTONS" I said through clenched teeth.

"I'm NOT!" he said, as he struggled to kick my arm again.

"YOU ARE!" I replied.

"No, I'm not." He said it more firmly this time, and then explained himself. "I'm kicking you, Mom, there's a difference."

Oy. More irrefutable logic.

Random Thoughts

Brian was sitting down drawing before bed tonight, and I was enjoying the quiet of the evening when said quiet was interrupted by Brian saying in a loud voice "New Hampshire!"

I looked at him quizzically, and he responded - "I just thought of a state."

I asked him if there was anything in particular that brought New Hampshire to mind, and he said no. Ditto to thinking anything in particular about said state.

Just a random blip in the brain of a five year old.

__________________________
{Edited to note: I should add, there is a USA state map puzzle at his school, and he loves it - it's pretty neat, actually, it gives interesting little tidbits about each state. He knew that when we were headed to RI, it was the smallest state in the country. And he'll also randomly know what color each state is on the map... at least on the puzzle map, I'm not sure if he realizes that it could be different on every map.)

The Perfect Spot

We were at my brother and sister-in-law's house last night for a BBQ. Brian was having lots of fun playing with his older cousins outside. Suddenly, he barged in, wide-eyed, and explained "We're playing hide-and-go-seek, and I found the perfect spot to hide!"

I looked at him, and asked, "Inside is the perfect spot?"

He grinned, and looking quite proud of himself, explained "They'll never find me here!"

Sadly, the story loses something of its power without a picture of the wide-eyed excitement that accompanied it - the expression of pure joy was unmistakable.

We interrupt this blog for a Special Edition of "What X. Said" [AKA - Daddy, do you have something to tell us???]

While packing for a family trip this weekend, X came in and saw his swim diaper in the suitcase. We have a swim diaper for him that is cloth and nice and reusable and all that fun stuff.

He picked it up and said in his little voice "My swim diaper!"

I agreed. He saw his father's swim suit in the suitcase as well. He picks it up and says "Daddy's swim diaper!"

Um, Dan, do you have something to tell us???

Brian's early history...

Bri asked me this morning if we got our house when he was a baby. I told him that no, we got the house before he was even born. His response was a history that I didn't even know about.

"Yeah, you got the house when X. was a bitty bitty baby in your belly, and I was the daddy taking care of him in your belly."

Hm. Must be why he's such a good big brother - he took care of him along time before I did, if that history is correct.

Pretty Mommy...

Brian has started saying this over and over again while petting my hair or my arms. I think now he does it to freak me out, since he knows it disturbs me.

(I appreciate the sentiment, but when he does this, and then in his next breath tells me "when my cereal gets here, I'm going to say "pretty breakfast" a few times than eat it," I'm sure that you can see why I find it a bit disconcerting.)

Can someone check on me if you don't hear from me for a few days????

Connecting the dots..

Sometime Brian astonishes me with his ability to connect the dots. This morning, he asked if he had any nephews. I explained that no, he didn't, and wouldn't for quite some time. When X. had kids, if they were boys, they would be his nephews and girls would be nieces.

He thought for a minute, and then said, so when I have kids, they'll be X's nephews and nieces?

Impressive, no?

The Proposal

Brian asked me (his Mom) to marry him on Saturday. It was quite sweet, actually, he said pretty please and wanted to get married on Sunday. I tried to let him down gently, and he sweetened the deal by offering to show me all his toys.

Daddy had to break it to him that I was already married to Daddy, and couldn't marry more than one person at once. For a bit, there was a stand off - my husband and my son both "fighting" for my hand. Sweet, but a little bit disturbing somehow.

When Brian got the concept that I couldn't marry him, however, I got dropped like a hot potato. I leaned over to kiss him and tell him I still love him, and he jumped out of my way, called me a kissing statue, and went to play with his brother.

Jilted.

I promise, he HASN'T been watching Pinky and the Brain!

Brian and I were in the car today, and he asks me if wishes ever can come true. I told him, "Of course, sometimes, you have to work to make them happen, but they can totally come true."

He paused for a bit and then said "What does that mean?"

Thinking that I was going to be able to come up with a good example, I started to talk about getting a job you wanted, but then realized he could hardly relate to that. Ditto with getting a lot of money, getting a relationship, etc. So he interrupts my bumbling thoughts to provide me with an example:

"Like, what if I wish to take over the world?" He said, seriously.

I think I need to a> teach him Risk, and b> keep an eye out on his phone use. And add to that list, be really grateful that I'm his mom. If anyone is going to aim for world domination, I suppose I'd prefer that it's my son!

April Fools Day...

So Brian heard about April Fools day from one of his day care teachers. The funniest part of it is, he doesn't quite get the idea of pranks yet. So I think his teacher probably told him that April Fools Day is when you play jokes on each other.

He took this to mean that today is the day to tell jokes to each other. This morning on the way to daycare, I was regaled with some of the most inane and pointless knock knock jokes I've ever heard.

(To wit:
B: Knock knock.
Me: Who's there?
B: Swinging camera.
Me: Swinging camera who?
B: Swinging camera taking your picture but you're not smiling - I'll be back Monday)

His response, however, whenever I noted that I just didn't get it, was priceless:

"Mom, it's a JOKE! It's not supposed to make sense. Cuz it's April Fools Day. It's all about jokes."

Can't argue with that logic, can I???

How many???

So this morning, Brian looks at me, and then starts tilting his head from side to side and fluttering his eyelashes. I asked him what he was doing. His response?
"That's how A. and B. look at me. I have two girlfriends, mom. Well, actually three, because A. has a sister and I have to count her, too."

Oy. I'm not ready for this.

February 2010

Bedtimes are not Brian's best time. Far from it. He stalls like there are raging bulls in his room about to attack him if he goes inside.

One of the things that he has told us is that "Singing makes me tired." and "Please don't do the singing unless it's already bed time."

One night, he tells us that he's scared to go to the bathroom. After trying logic (not sure why, he's 5), I said to him, "Honey, you should just sing. You won't be scared if you sing when you go to the bathroom."

Brian says "Mom, of course I won't be scared, I'll be asleep."

Summer 2009 - Is that the only difference?

Brian and I were on a long drive, and he was cranky and tired of being in the car. I was trying to cheer him up, and told him that the red lights of the cars in front of us where where the cars butts were (I'm not proud).

Brian got very upset and argued with me that cars don't have butts. Finally I asked him why.

"Because if it was a butt, it would have a crack like this" and he moves his hand up and down.

Summer 2009 - Good thing to remember.

Brian tells me one day when I was apparently seeming less than cheerful - "Life is better than you think it is, Mom!"

Welcome

This blog is for the funny things that Brian says.

If you don't know us, here's what you should know for the blog to make some sense -
Brian is currently 5 years old. He has a younger brother, X. We just got a kitty in the house, P. (Something tells me we'll be hearing some interesting things about her soon). The person that is writing this blog is his mom.

I'm going to start this blog as a chronological record, if it gets too difficult to do that way, I'll consider other organizational methods.

Enjoy.