The Newest Family Member

One of my good friends went to Thailand to do humanitarian work several months ago.  Being the sweet darling she is, she brought back a hand-made dinosaur for Tornado E and a hand-made water buffalo for Tornado S.  Tornado E adores Toothy, sleeping with him every night.  But the poor water buffalo got the short end of the stick since Tornado S’s true love is his blanky.

Today Tornado E was playing with the water buffalo, playing with the horns, singing his version of “Where is Thumpkin?”  Then Tornado E left to keep his daddy company as daddy dressed.  Lucky daddy; they don’t bother him when he’s in the shower.  I walked in a minute later to put some jewelry away as the boys tend to sneak into the boxes and play with them.

The Husband: Tornado E was just telling me that he wants the – what do you call this?

Me: A water buffalo.

The Husband: Right.  Tornado E doesn’t want another baby.  He wants us to raise the water buffalo.  It’s going to need food and love, and it will get bigger.

Me: Really?

Tornado E: And he’s name is Horny!


Me and The Husband: What?

Tornado E: His name is Horny!

Tornado E smiled at our hooting laughter and his cleverness.

(And I bet you thought I was talking about the Munchkin.)

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Tornado E’s new friend

Tornado E now has a baby orangutan. It goes with us everywhere. It’s imaginary.

It also has been in time out, was carried by me to the car, and every time Tornado E goes to bed, he asks from his top bunk, “Mommy, can you bring the baby here?” Then I have to pretend I’m picking up the orangutan and placing him in bed with Tornado E.

I’m glad we don’t have a pet.

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Rock and roll

Back in high school, I had to do a report on ancient Egypt, which I got an A.  During the research, I came across a fascinating book about ancient Egypt that I ended up reading cover to cover instead of the small part I needed for my report because the author was so engaging and interesting.  It was the first non-fiction book, I enjoyed.

I remember reading the chapter about children and childhood in ancient Egypt.  The author wrote about the amazing toys found in tombs, in archeological digs.  There were toys that rolled, toys that made sound, lions that jaws opened and closed.  Some of the toys were very complex.  At the end of the chapter, the author went on to write about how the kids were probably delighted by these bright, shiny, new toys but fifteen minutes later they were probably playing with the dirt and rocks, forgetting the toys, like children today.  I laughed at the truth of it.

Now I see the truth of it.

Last week to keep the plastic grass carpet from blowing away (because our rental house only has rocks for a backyard), I placed a brick-sized red rock on the corner.  It worked perfectly.  Then the other day, Sean decided to adopt it.  He brought it inside, barely able to carry it.  When we tried to take it away in fear of him dropping it on his toe, he wouldn’t be parted with it. 

NO!  My Ra-rock!

Evan was a little jealous of the attention, so he brought in his own rock, same color, much smaller. With some cartoons and a trip to Grandma’s and Papi’s, Sean forgot all about his rock.

Until we came home. 

My Ra-rocks!

Then Sean went back to playing with his rock and Evan’s smaller rock.  Evan had moved on.  When bedtime came, Sean lugged his rocks into the room with him, sitting next to them during story time.  He was insistent that the rocks went to bed with him, but I feared for Sean’s little noggin.  I told Sean we would leave them beside his bed, which induced heart-wrenching wail after heart-wrenching wail.  Evan chimed that we could put the rocks in the doll bed, and he put them in and covered the rocks with a blanket.  I took Sean out of bed to say goodnight to his rocks.  In his distress, Sean ran out of the room seeking a place to throw a temper tantrum.

Sean: My Ra-rocks!  My Ra-rocks!

Me: Come on, Sean.  Let’s say goodnight to the rocks.  You can play with them in the morning.  They have their own bed, and they are tired.  Goodnight, rocks!  Sweet dreams, rocks!

Sean: Night-night, my ra-rocks!

While Sean peeked over his rail a few times to make sure his rocks were safe and sound, he made no more commotion about the rocks sleeping arrangements.  He went to sleep himself.

The next morning, Sean woke me up for a story and juice.  We played for a little bit, until Sean got up and ran from the room.  He ran into his bedroom.

Sean: WAKE UP!

Fearing that Sean was trying to wake up a sleeping big brother, I ran into the bedroom to swish him back into the family room.  I found Sean on the floor next to the doll bed, cradling the rocks.

Sean: Wake up, my ra-rocks!

Giving into this new turn of events, I’ve decided to go with the flow, praying that Sean doesn’t break any toes.  When we leave, I scoop up the rocks and place them in a tote for easy transportation.  Every bedtime and naptime, the rocks are put to sleep in the doll bed.  I even debated on painting them, but I’ll let Sean tell me if he wants to do that.

I’m just wondering if I should be relieved that it isn’t a coconut that will rot or worry because it’s a rock so it’s here to stay.

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It’s all about names

Mommy, this is Sicky the robot.

Mommy, this is Sicky the cactus.

Meet my friend, Sicky the bug.

Mommy, say hi to Sicky the car.

This is my friend Sicky the bear.

My friend Sicky the monster is coming swimming with us.

Sicky the dinosaur is going to have lunch with us.

Mommy, Sicky the duck is thirsty.

Mommy, Sicky the octopus is hungry.

Sicky the worm wants to play outside.

Sicky the snake is my friend.

Sicky the dog wants to watch cartoons.

Sicky the turtle doesn’t want peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Look, it’s Sicky the rock.


Kid, we’ve got to expose you to more names.   I don’t know how, but we will. 


Look in the mirrors Mommy.  It’s my friends Sicky, Dicky, and Luke.  They’re brothers.


Ok, I can work on this.


Met my friend Sicky the truck.

This is Sicky the dragon.

Look, it’s Sicky the tree.


Or not.  What happen to Gooey?  I miss him.

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Meet Gooey

Back before Easter, as I scoured the Internet for craft ideas, I fell in love with Family Fun’s plastic egg animals.  They were super adorable.  Since I was working with lots of plastic eggs, I thought they would be great. 

Alas, they did not make the cut for my blog because you needed to hot glue everything, no other glue worked, and as I try to make the crafts friendly for all ages, hot glue, preschoolers, and toddlers do not mix.  (Surprised?  I was.  I mean the boys just LOVE guns.)  Rather than pick a mouse, a dog, a cat or any animal the website had, Evan picked a tiger.  So he drew on the lines; while, I cut and glued.  It turned out pretty cute.  (No picture of the mouse and tiger because Sean loved pulling things off than putting them on.)  (Also, I think I can come up with more animals and do it through the year.)

Me: Great tiger, Evan.  It was a great idea.

Evan: Mommy!  I want to make Gooey!

Me: You what?

Evan: I want to make Gooey!

Ok, kid.  Let me think.  I let him pick the egg.  Blue.  I turned it so the thin end pointed down (or the bottom of the egg as my grandma calls it).  I glued four pom poms to the “bottom.”  Then Evan picked only one eye.  And there you have it, folks.  Gooey.  The twin brother of B.O.B.

Gooey and BOB

Gooey and BOB

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The Return of Gooey

It has been a while since Gooey has slithered around the house.  But he has returned, following Evan around, watching TV, sitting on my lap.  A day or two ago, my husband watched Evan and Sean play as we sat at the kitchen table.


My husband: You know where the inspiration for Gooey came from, right?


Me: I have an idea.


My husband: (beaming with pride) The Cat in the Hat Comes Back.  It was Little Cat Z.


Me: Really?  (Not the idea I had.)


My husband: Because you can’t see Little Cat Z because he’s too little.  Gooey’s too little to see.


Me: You never had an imaginary best friend, did you?  Evan can see Gooey; we can’t see Gooey.  He’s a blue glob that reaches to about his waist.


My husband: (giving me the you’re-so-full-of-it look {he hardly knows the depths of how much a mom knows about her child.}) I don’t know.


Me: Evan, where’s Gooey?


Evan: (playing with the Lego police boat) He’s in here, driving the boat.


Me: Thank you.  (turning to my husband) So Gooey changes size.  But I think he got it from Monster vs Aliens.  He couldn’t get it from Little Cat Z because Gooey appeared before the book, and I didn’t connect it to the new monster movie because Gooey came so many months after we saw the preview before Kung Fu Panda in the theaters.  But isn’t it interesting that Gooey shows up again as Evan watches Kung Fu Panda every day and saw the trailer a couple of times.  Of course, I always assumed Gooey had two eyes.


My husband: Which one is suppose to be Gooey?


Me: The glob with Seth Rogan’s voice.


My husband: We’re going to have to go see that movie, aren’t we?



On the other hand, I have explained the reappearance to the rest of my family, who have run to assure me that this is normal and a sign of a creative and smart child.  Um, Dad, don’t you remember mine?  Becky: brunette, smart, outgoing, comforting when I was crying, stayed with me much longer than probably healthy?  Oh, well.  Don’t worry; I’m not.

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The Arrival of New Invisible Friends

Evan: I want to go to Dave’s house!


Me: Who’s Dave?  Where’s Dave’s house Evan? (As I mentally scan my database for Daves Evan might know.  The only Dave I can think of is the father of the thirteen year old girl, who Evan loves, and they live two doors down.)


Evan: Dave lives in Mexico!  I live California!  Grandma and Papi live in Arizona!  I go to Dave’s house and get candy and ride a horse and play swords!


At first, I’ll admit, I was alarmed, trying to think of a “Dave” who would let Evan into his house and give him candy.  Did a child predator move into the neighborhood?  Should I call my Dad?  Should I-


Before I could spiral myself into a crazy-mother-frenzy, I remembered Becky, my imaginary friend, and I also remembered Evan has NOT been to any one’s house without me.  He’s three!  So I jumped off the crazy tracked and asked Evan about Dave, but Evan was silent on Dave until my husband came home.


My husband got the same animated description of Dave’s house.  My husband looked up at me with concern.


My Husband: Who’s Dave?  Where does he live?  When did Evan go there?


Me: (now cool and confident) It’s his imaginary friend.  When would I have let Evan go off on his own?



Then last night Evan got a new best friend, who he met on his second term of time out as Evan was a repeat offender.  It’s amazing how some harden criminals never learn.  After being sentenced for three minutes for pushing Sean, who was sitting on the arm of the couch, over the edge (luckily Sean landed in the laundry basket of stuff animals), Evan served his time and didn’t lose any time on repeating the incident by hitting Sean so hard he cried.  Sean is a tough little guy and rarely cries, so upon hearing Sean cry, I had to hold back the wrath of God (aka spanking) and calmly march the suspect, pleading his innocence, back to jail.  Obviously Evan knows nothing of probation.


At the end of the three minutes, I asked Evan to sit with me so we can discuss in brief three-year-old terms why he was in time out, but first he introduced me to his new cell mate, just recently released back into society, rehabilitated.


Me: Evan, do you know why you were in time out?


Evan: This is Gooey!  He wants to sit on your lap too!


Me: Ok, Gooey, you can sit on my other leg.  Now, Evan, why were you in time out?


Evan: I don’t know.  Gooey is on your leg!


Me: Evan, why were you in time out?


Evan: Gooey and I hit Seanny!


Me: (So Gooey’s an accomplice.  I didn’t realize the partnership was so old.) Is hitting Seanny nice or mean?


Evan: It’s mean.


Me: Are you nice little boy?


Evan: Yes!


Me: Then we don’t do mean things; we do nice things.  I love you, Evan.  Be nice to your brother.  (And I hug and kiss Evan.)


Evan: Come on, Gooey.  Let’s watch The Upside Down Show with Seanny.  Oh, and Mommy, Gooey’s blue.


For some reason, I’m picturing a blue blob slithering after Evan with great purpose and dignity. 


The next morning Evan introduced his father to Gooey, and just in case I had forgotten, I was re-introduced to Gooey.


Evan: Mommy, Gooey is a blue chocolate chip monster.  I’m a pink chocolate chip monster.  Gooey doesn’t have any legs.  Gooey is a candy monster.  Gooey likes candy and cookies.


Well, that says it all, doesn’t it?


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