No, I Tornado S.

Tornado S doesn’t like picking Tornado E up from school.  I think he thinks we can just leave him there.  It’s a nice thought some days.  As I convinced Tornado S into a jacket, out of the house, and into his car seat, I chatted.

Me: Now, we’ll get Tornado E, baby.

Tornado S: I not baby!  I a big boy!

Me: Yes, you are!  And soon you’ll be a big brother too.  Would you like to be a big brother?

Tornado S: I no big brother!  I Tornado S!

Well, put.

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The Renaming

Tornado E: I think I want to name Tornado S.

Me: What?

Tornado E: I want to name Tornado S.

Me: He already has a name.  It’s Tornado S.

Tornado E: He needs a new name.  I’m going to call him Falleif.

Me: What?  No.

Tornado E: Falleif!  Let’s play cars.

Me: We’re not naming your brother Falleif.

Tornado E: Falleif, do you want juice?

Me: Tornado S, do you want juice.

Tornado S: Please juice!

Me: See.  He’s name is Tornado S.

Tornado E: I’m still going to call him Falleif.

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Little Brotherly Love

Yesterday Tornado S and I dropped Tornado E off at school.  Tornado E’s school is Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons.  We wanted to ease Tornado E into school, rather than drop him into the deep end as some of the schools we looked at would do.

I packed the boys into the car after lunch.  Each had his backpack strapped on to his back.  I reminded Tornado E to raise his hand during the class and to listen as I know these are his biggest weakness.  I had observed this last summer during his swim classes and then again at the open house where the teacher went through circle time with the kids.  Really, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

We arrived in good time.  The boys and I braved the sweltering heat as we marched to the classroom.  A few other moms stood around with their kids, talking.  I herded mine to keep them from running around in the landscaping.  No one else’s kid was doing that, so I figured I shouldn’t allow mine either.  Of course, it is desert-scaping; nothing can hurt it.

The teacher opened the door, and the children marched one by one. Tornado S followed his brother.

I grabbed Tornado S.

Me: No, Tornado S.  That’s your brother’s class.  That’s Tornado E’s class.  Not for Tornado S.

Tornado S: Brothr!

He tried to wiggle out of my grasp.  He started to cry, wail, scream.

Me: Tornado S, it’s ok.  You’re going home with Mommy, and we’re going to have fun.  Do you want to have fun with Mommy?

Tornado S: BROTHR!!!

I picked him up, looking straight into his big brown eyes.

Me: I know.  You want to play with Tornado E and his friends.  But you’re not old enough yet.  We can go home and play.  We’ll have some special time.

Tornado S: With Dadda?

Me: Yes, Daddy is home.  We can play with him, too.  Do you think that is a good plan?

Tornado S nodded.  We walked away.

Me: How about a binky?

Tornado S: BINK!

Of course, Tornado S slept through the whole afternoon, missing any Mommy and just Me time.  Poor kid.

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