Afternoon Conversation

Sam: "Mommy, Mommy."

me: "What?"

Sam: "Did you recognize that I can't see my own face?"

me: "That's been bothering you for awhile now, huh."

Sam: "What is WITH that?!"

Have you noticed that Sam has been talking to me a lot lately?

He has. He'll come up to me and say, "Why don't we light some candles and talk?" Or sometimes he'll just come up to me mid-whatever-I'm-doing (insert whatever inappropriate and/or non-conducive-to-chatting moment here you want)and start saying stuff to me. Apparently, he's got a lot on his mind.

Last night:

Sam: "Mom, right now my name is Sam S."

me: [trying to figure out how much of Lily's diarrhea got on the bed] "mmm-hmm."

Sam: "But when I grow up, I think I'll need a different name--to show that I've grown up."

me: [tossing some stuff off the bed for a better look] "Don't you like your name?"

Sam: "Oh, yes. It's nice. But when you grow up your name should *show* that you've grown up."

me: "Oh."

Sam: "I think when I get married is when I'll do it. I'll change it to my wife's name."

me: [confused because I did read that whole debate on FMH a few weeks ago about men taking their wife's last name, but did I mention that out loud ever (I don't remember having done this) or did he just read my mind?]

Sam: "Okay, well, I just thought you should know."

Evening Conversation: Sam gets deep

Sam: "Mommy, there's something I don't understand."

me: "What is it, baby?"

Sam: "Don't call me baby. I'm practically a man, remember?"

me: "Oh, my bad."

Sam: "Okay ... well... Why am I REAL? There's imaginary, and then there's REAL, and I never chose. I just had to be real. Why?"

me: [pause] "No idea, honey."

Sam: "Mommy." [reprimanding tone] "Why do you call me honey? I'm not honey. I'm almost a MAN."

me: "Again, my bad."

Sam: "And you know what's really crazy?"

me: "What?"

Sam: "I can't see my own face! It doesn't make sense! I can see your face, Daddy's face, Lily's face. Everyone's face. But I can't see my own! I can't see my own eyeballs, my own nose, my own mouth. It's not fair!"

me: "I guess it's a good thing we have mirrors."

Sam: "Yeah. So I can make silly faces and see them."

Baby Deepness

We own a house in downtown SLC that is more than 100 years old and has been in the family for SIX generations, now. Steve had his first "deep thought" in the front yard there. He was standing next to the rosebushes, which were on one side of an iron fence. Apparently, the deep thought consisted of, "There's a rose . . . and a fence. Soft . . . not soft . . . whoa . . ." (he was like three)

The first deep thought I remember having is actually my vert first memory. (Fitting, eh?) I was standing on the balcony of our crappy third-story student apartment at BYU (where my parents went). I was looking over the vast expanse that was Provo and I thought to myself . . . "Man. I am so *old.*" (I was 15 months old. Just a month older than Lily is. That's a scary thought. Especially because my next thought was that my particular parents were going to require a lot of patience for my entire life. And it turns out that compared to them, I suck as a mom. What goes around comes around . . . EEK.)

Anyway, here is a picture of Sam having a "whoa" moment. He's holding "Scoop." In the background is a real life "Scoop." He thought it was kinda cool.

Cute stuff my kid says

He says a lot of it lately.

1) "Oh, Daddy. You got a hairs cut." (Actually makes more sense than haircut, if you ask me.)
2) Upon my waking up: "Oh, Mommy. Wow. You're alive."
3) Upon my getting dressed for work: "Oh, Mommy. Nice dress up!"
4) When playing with two dolls, one "Mommy," and the other one "Me": Me (in a demure, soft tone): "Mommy?" pause "Mommy?" pause. "Mommy?" pause. "Mommy?" Upon which, the Mommy doll snaps into reality and shouts, "WHAT!!!???"
5) "Mommy, you're the best Mommy ever. AND . . ." [tone softens to indicate true deepness about to be communicated] "You are going to be a girl FOREVER." (That's my plan, kid.)

Not ready to give in

Awhile ago my two year old was really, really mad at his dad and new sister. He yelled at them, shook his finger at them, and eventually collapsed in a screaming, sobbing heap on the floor.

I picked him up and asked if he wanted to say a prayer to help him feel better. He said yes.

Mommy: "Heavenly Father"

2yrold: "Fadur"

Mommy: "Thank you for home"

2yrold: "Sink oo for om."

Mommy: "Thank you for my family"

2yrold: "Sink oo," [pause][angry voice] "for mommy."