Why....

Cole has always disliked wearing button down shirts or anything with a collar. I can't blame him really, they do tend to be more confining and restrictive than t-shirts. However, simply there are times where he needs to be more dressed up.

Recently, I was putting him in a button-down as he had field trip to the Children's Museum with his school. He squirmed and fidgeted as I did my best to align his slim arms into the sleeves without creating any bunching. I kept getting the rolled eye glare like I was making him eat broccoli or drink carrot juice. As I made once last attempt to straighten his shirt and comb his hair, he gives me a huge sigh and says "why do I have to be so handsome?" All I could do was burst into laughter and reply honestly "because you look just like your daddy!"

Speed Limit 100...

As my Mario Andretti races around the house, I remind him as I watch him veer in a zig zag fashion and see him narrowly miss impact with the door frame that he must be a careful racecar driver and remain in control, less he spin out, careen into a wall and lose the race. With the utmost conviction in his voice, Cole replies "...but mom, I have to go 100 miles ago to win!". I laugh out loud and say "you mean 100 miles an hour?" He looks at me with such exasperation and says "no, mom 100 miles ago, I'm just playing pretend!"

So you don't forget...

So sadly in recent weeks, I have had to have conversations with Cole about what death means.

In late February, Cole's close buddy Benjamin's doggie passed away
and I tried to best explain that when someone/something dies that we care about, they are no longer here for us to see or be with like we have gotten used to but that we have the memories that we have created with them forever and we can always always still love that person/pet. I expressed that when people/pets die they become angels up in heaven. He then asked about heaven (as Dave and I don't go to church, we haven't exactly gotten around to sharing with him about god and heaven). So I said well, heaven is way above the clouds. Angels live in heaven and can fly and see us but we can't see them. I then began tripping over myself as I didn't want to say too much and confuse him.

Cole seemed to grasp the idea that Benjamin's doggie was "gone" but bless his four year old innocence when he said "well don't be sad mommy, Benjamin's doggie can fly".

Two weeks later, shocking news of our next door neighbor's father's car accident and death. It knocked the breathe out of me as I read the text that Debbie sent. I sat down on the couch barely able to dial the phone to inform Dave. A tragedy beyond comprehension that had us reeling since we had gotten to know Dave Brekke over the past several years. I was so sad and cried openly in front of Cole. He came over and asked "mommy why are you feeling this way?". He hugged me as I explained that Jesse's (our neighbor) daddy was killed in an accident, that he had died. His eyes got big as he stated "so he is not here anymore, right?" I nodded and he goes "...but mommy, it is okay to be sad but Jesse's daddy is an angel now" which just made me cry harder as I listened to my little boy try to make ME feel better.

Two days later, Jesse came over into our yard with Coogee his lab. I had said the day before to Cole, that he should draw Jesse a picture. He had said he would and took off to do so. I honestly had forgotten about it. Cole ran downstairs when he saw Jesse and came back with a sheet of paper with blue circular squiggles and his name written on it. He then proceeded to tell Jesse as he handed him the paper that "here are the clouds where your daddy lives now". Jesse asked if he could take the picture to show his mom. Cole matter of factly retorts "sure but don't forget to bring it home to put on your refrigerator so you don't forget to look up at the clouds"

Until it was necessary, I never knew how difficult it could be to define death and make sense of it in the most honest way he could understand. As an adult, death, especially when it comes unexpectedly doesn't make sense to me but as a parent, my role is not to interject my personal feelings but to give Cole enough information to feel comfortable enough to come up with his own interpretation. Obviously, he has done exactly that.

Life is a Highway (or racetrack)...

Cole loves to zoom all over the house with any of his fleet of toys with wheels; it has been like this since he was 18 months or so and I don't see his enthusiasm ebbing anytime in the near future. Lightning McQueen was on his second birthday cake and he sings "Life is a Highway" unabashedly. He wakes up in race mode and takes his favorite car/truck up to bed with him to place on the floor while he sleeps.

He puts his cars/trucks in their makeshift garages when we clean up. He knows when one of them are misplaced after playdates. He tells me all the time that he wants to be a racecar driver, an excavator operator or some day drive a 18-wheeler/big rig that carries toys (of course).

He gets so excited when a NASCAR commercial comes on; gets starry-eyed when we come alongside a tractor-trailer on the highway and runs to the window when the garbage truck comes each week.

Cole is constantly wanting to race cars on his racetrack with Dave and I; seriously aside from his request for a snack, it is a close second in his daily pleadings. He loves to win and thus we have had to have the discussion that winning isn't everything (yeah, okay, get a four year old to accept that that is plausible). However, as all parents know, I cannot "race" on his every demand; so Cole who has been sharpening his negotiating skills lately said to me the other day with a twinkle in his eye "mom, go get some magazines and come watch me race" knowing full well that I couldn't turn him down as we both would get the best out of that deal! Oh boy, he is going to be able to sell manure to a farmer with his "sales" skills, just as innately talented as his daddy!

Well, not exactly...

It has always been a pet peeve of Cole's when a cookie, graham cracker, pretzel or any snack falls apart into pieces before he has taken his first bite. When he was a toddler, he wouldn't even touch it without much coaxing if it wasn't 100% whole. It has been a quirky and vexing issue as one can imagine.

Since the back pack I carted around as my diaper bag and which now houses essential and emergency "stuff" certainly isn't padded and carrying around tupperware containers would be ridiculous, over the years Cole has learned to deal with his sometimes multi-piece snacks or he has gone snackless. However, it is still something that irks him at 4 years old and he will purposely dig around in a bag or box until he finds an unscathed item to eat. I mean I am a perfectionist but this takes things to a whole other level??? But I guess we all have those things that make us who we are despite driving those we love nuts because of them.

Anyhow, I recently had taken a bag of things to the tailor to be mended. When I picked him up from school, he asked what errands we would be doing. I told him we were going to the tailors. He asked "what is that place again" as I had originally told him that it was a place where people could fix holes in our clothes. So I reminded him that it was the place where the lady was repairing the zipper on our pillow cover and some of our clothes. Cole shoots back "with glue?" I laughed and said, "no, they sew up the fabric with thread/string which is more flexible"

He looks at me in all seriousness as I glance at him in the rearview mirror and says "can they put my snacks back together when they fall apart?"

Cole & Calliou

I must confess that Cole watches way more TV than I ever thought I would allow. Life is what it is and reality is reality, thus, Sprout, Nick Jr. and occasionally the Disney channel are quite frequently on in our house. Don't get me wrong, Cole is fantastic at entertaining himself, racing around the house with his ski/skating helmet on as if he is on a NASCAR track or pretending to fly the plane we created out of a box or jumping from part of the sectional couch to the other falling into a pile of pillows again and again and again. He will draw pictures, play games on the computer or IPHONE and make a mess with playdough. He has a terrific imagination.

However, independent he is becoming as he does say roughly about half the time, "I can do it myself or Mommy, go do something", but as I feel both of us age faster and faster, luckily for me the other half of the time he still likes to play with me. So I am often down on the floor with him lining up monster trucks so they crush one another or acting as a tunnel as he flies between my legs with his matchbox cars. We read, we snuggle and giggle, we build forts and we pretend to be pirates. I love my Mondays and Fridays with him!

Anyhow, I digress as the point of this post is about his TV time; so like when Dora the Explorer, Thomas the Train and the Wonder Pets were his fascination (those are for babies now he says), Cole has become quite attached to the character of Calliou. Calliou is a 4 year old boy with a cat and baby sister who loves adventure. Calliou goes to school ("like me" Cole says). Calliou has fears and dislikes similar to Cole (like crowds and vegetables); Calliou loves planes, things that go fast, ice cream and getting dirty (the writers must do their research or have 4 year olds because it really is spot on). Anyway, Cole gets so excited when Calliou comes on and at the library he saw Calliou DVDs on the shelf so now we have those as well.

I know the show's opening jingle word for word (as does Cole of course) but I love that the show has a very real life storyline, language and simplicity. I'm glad that Cole finds comfort in watching Calliou so that he knows he is not alone as he experiences life.

But...sometimes it has so much energy...

So, there are many of hundreds of parenting moments that the manuals, books, magazines and guides fail to mention amongst their pages of advice and insights. I cannot tell you how many articles I have read about how wonderful it is once your kiddo no longer wears diapers/Pull-ups. And though, yes it is nice...I am STILL dealing with pee and poo. Just because Cole is potty (and poopy) trained doesn't mean I am free and clear. I am still wiping his bum trying not to get toilet paper stuck between his cheeks. And most annoying I am finding myself continuously walking into any of our three bathrooms and moaning outloud when I see the puddle of pee settled on the back of the toilet lid (behind the seat). Yes, that little flat space that is directly behind the line of fire. It seems to collect in/around the lid attachments which makes cleaning it more than just a quick swipe with a tissue. I remind Cole incessantly that his pee needs to be aimed INTO the toilet and he nods his head in agreement and yet, he has yet to fine-tune this skill. He typically still waits until he is nearing the accident-zone to get to the bathroom and by then, he is lucky to get his pants down and himself faced in the right direction. In the morning in a half-awake state, I cringe as I can even hear the varying "ting" as his aim moves around. I realize in the grand scheme of life, that puddles of pee really aren't anything to get all crazed about but alas, it is driving me crazy. The kid can kick a soccer ball straight, aim a hockey stick or a golf club for its destination and draw straight lines on a piece of paper, so why the challenge with keeping the pee where it belongs!? Exasperated one night, we posed this question and as usual, his reply was so within the realm of logic, we just had to shake our heads, "...but the pee sometimes has so much energy". Indeed...

It's boring...I'm tired...It will make me sick...I have a tummy ache...

Oy Vey...Cole has entered the realm of the excuse...anything that he doesn't want to do, anywhere he doesn't want to go, anything that is out of our routine he attempts to thwart with one of his four pleas...

They are becoming quite rote and anticipated and he is realizing this so I hope he becomes either more varied or gives up this phase, which I know only means another phase of some sort will replace it but this current state of "whining" is driving me batty...

The imploring looks of despair that accompany the aforementioned pleas would be almost laughable if they weren't downright vexing; sometimes however you just have to laugh. Of course he gets highly irritated if we do crack a smile but sometimes suppressing my reaction to such a dramatic air is nearly impossible and a much better reaction than losing my patience.

Eating what he doesn't want to eat off his plate after he has eaten what he wants"I have a tummy ache", driving to school in the morning "it's boring", running errands "I'm tired", taking medication "it will make me sick"....picking up his toys "I have a tummy ache", brushing his teeth "I'm tired", going to bed "it's boring"...

I'll say it again, OY VEY...

The BIG Phone...

So anyone who knows Dave well, knows that he has become an APPLE junkie. No, he isn't consuming apple pies or biting into a Red Delicious. I'm talking about finding ourselves with a growing arsenal of IPHONE, NANO, IPAD, and MAC paraphernalia taking up counter space in our house.

From an early age, Cole has been fascinated with our IPHONEs. Who can blame him with its fabulous sounds, music, kaleidoscope of colors and its ease to manipulate, what 2, 3 or 4 year old wouldn't be drawn to it? It is like being able to hold a TV in your hands.

As parents in this day and age, we fell unto its spell as well, both a blessing and a curse. It works oh so well for distracting Cole during meals at restaurants, during our day long Denham road trips, as well as honestly when we just need him out of our hair for a time.

I swear that a preschooler created and programmed these devices since Cole is more adept at its functions than I am. His ability to gentle tap or swipe his fingers across its screen still puts me in a state of awe as just moments before in many cases he was crashing his monster trucks and dropping matchbox cars down the stairs. He knows exactly where to locate the applications/games that I have downloaded and how to get beyond the "instruction" or "how to play" text.

When Dave brought home his IPAD last fall, it was so funny to sit back and watch my two guys with their new toy. With its bigger screen Cole couldn't get enough of it. First movies/shows, then larger than life race car and airplane simulation games. The sheer amount of detail on the interface makes me dizzy and yet, Cole is a pro, instructing me when I "do it wrong".

He began calling it the BIG PHONE since it was just on a larger scale from what our IPHONES were. The name stuck and months later as soon as Dave walks in the door from work, Cole requests to play with the BIG PHONE. He interacts it with so well, expertly putting puzzles together and shouting HURRAY; zooming race cars around their cyber-track making Vrroomming sounds; listening to stories; acquiring "stickers" when he chooses the missing letter or counts and chooses the correct number.

Cole has gotten quite attached to using the BIG PHONE and thus we have had to set some rules since he began attempting to negotiate his use with it. He is quite remarkable in his logic but we must remain in control and make him realize that the BIG PHONE is a privilege. Entertainment and educational merits aside, he is four years old and listening to him run around the house playing pretend far supersedes the value of the BIG PHONE.

Pull Up FREE Zone...

You can read all the books, listen and digest tons of advice but in reality you really just cross your fingers when your child has his mother's stubborn nature as there is no amount of praise (or bribes) that is going to make them potty trained unless they want to do it.

Cole showed his aversion to potty training from the get-go at age 2 or so and it wasn't until last spring at almost 3 1/2 after nearly 15 months of gentle coaxing and quite a bit of silly songs and general goofiness (oh, if only you had been a fly on the wall in our bathroom)that he finally learned to go "pee-pee" in the toilet. He refused however to even try to go poopy. Once he went "pee-pee" it was easy for him and we made him wear underwear during the day, to school and when he was home and we rarely had an accident.

We thought by having him wear underwear most of the day, it would force his hand when he had to go poopy. We were wrong, so wrong, as this method to try and get him to go poopy without a Pull-Up on backfired. He simply just held the urge to poop back and he would deliberately wait until he got into his pajamas and Pull-Up in the evening and then poop, typically quite uncomfortable because things were now backed up. Yes, I could have given him Miralax per our pediatrician's suggestion but I am not one to make such a choice for my child and manipulate his GI tract. If he had an accident because I gave him a stool softener that would more of a setback. So I went with my gut knowing eventually we would become a PULL-UP FREE house.

Around the holidays, I realized his PULL-UPs were dry in the morning which meant he didn't need it anymore and thus we began another round of trying to get him to poop on the potty at his very first grimace. He fought us and we pushed back firmly but lovingly. Since he was now smarter and more aware, his fears were more difficult to overcome. So we brought in the big guns...a fleet of Hot Wheels Monster Trucks...although bribes/treats/candy had NEVER worked in the past, Cole's eyes went wide as he looked at the shiny trucks all lined up in their packaging. We explained that if he pooped on the potty he could get one each time.

It was a bit rocky at first and we could see the very real trepidation in his eyes but after talking about train whistles (gas) followed by poopy trains (too much information I'm sure) and the inevitable tunnel (the flush), Cole finally began to relax and let nature take its course.

Once he pooped that first time and took his prize, he pooped almost every day for two weeks. Where all that poop came from we cannot fathom but we were all relieved (in more ways than one). Our most difficult task now was to wean his expectation of a monster truck post-poop. It has been a month since that milestone, and with no setbacks, I'm comfortable in stating that we are officially a PULL-UP FREE ZONE!

From the mouth of Cole...

I have literally begun keeping a "Note" on my IPHONE entitled COLE QUIPS. It is the cyber-equivalent of having a legal pad or notebook stashed in my bag, so that I can jot down the funny, fascinating or just plain fantastic things that are passing Cole's lips these days. It is quite amazing how knowledgeable and articulate he is about so many subjects as well as entertaining and witty.

He frequently catches me off guard with his random discourse, like the other day around dusk as we headed to tumbling class, from the backseat he sweetly says, "mommy, look at the beautiful sky, the clouds are kissing the sunset" . Indeed, the cloud bank was almost a horizontal line just sitting above the sliver of winter sun. It was the perfect description. He then melted my heart by saying "mommy, this is my favorite time of day". I felt that some inner DNA gene was at work since I have quite an affection for that interval just before the sun sets.

Cole is also perfecting the practice of cracking himself up. He likes to use nonsensical knock-knock jokes and then literally fall down laughing when he replies. Example: Cole: "Knock-Knock" Me: "Who's there?" Cole: "Plant" Me: "Plant Who?" Cole: "Plant goes YOO HOO" followed by him rolling on the couch in hysterics reminiscent of what I do when watching Robin Williams (well, not exactly but you get the overall picture).

I also love the fact Cole has no filter yet, that he speaks his mind, honest and forthright without pause. Although sometimes in the presence of others, I end up as the embarrassed one as I did the other day while picking him up at Montessori. Cole likes to bring home his work EVERYDAY and show Dave. I then typically hang his papers on the refrigerator or in the playroom or archive them into a folder I keep to later sort through for his yearly scrapbook. I have ALWAYS felt guilty at throwing any of his work away but alas, I certainly cannot keep everything and hence, I do toss out some random or less defining editions of his work. He twice in the past month found papers in the garbage can while disposing of "whatever" and came to me with such a look of despair on his face inquiring with a shaky voice "mommy, why did you throw my work in the trash!?" Both times, it was like someone kicked me in the gut. I tried to explain the best I could but at four years old, he simply and obviously had his feelings hurt and no explanation could fix that. So I pick him up the other day at school and as we tiptoe to the cubbies around the kids who are sitting quietly for storytime, Cole states loudly "now mommy, don't throw these out, okay?" I could have died as all three teachers looked our way.

Mommy Magic...

So anyone with a preschooler knows that you become quite knowledgeable about where the bathrooms are located at stores, the mall, restaurants and such. One of those parenting "skills" you never thought would make your day so much easier until your child becomes potty trained. You get so used to relying on diapers and Pull-Ups for so many years that potty training changes the game and can make doing errands or eating out to a whole new level.

Without fail and despite going potty before we leave the house, Cole inevitable has to go again once I have a full cart of groceries, when we are the farthest from the bathroom at the mall, or when our food has just been served. That is just Murphy's Law. I used to get frustrated at having to dash through Target carefully dodging others in an obstacle race through the store where we quickly stash the cart in an empty checkout aisle since the bathrooms are located on the paid side of the registers and make it just when he can barely hold it anymore. Now, I watch for the FIRST sign of him grabbing his crotch and despite his protest head directly towards the restroom.

Lately, when we are about to leave the house but before we put on our 100 layers of clothing I have asked Cole to go potty. He normally is already muttering that he doesn't want to stop playing (or watching Calliou which is his favorite PBS Kids show now since Calliou is also four like him). Anyway, I typically give him a warning, followed by a much more stern version of "please go to the bathroom right now". I rarely get to the point where I have to raise my voice thankfully.

He slowly (painstakingly so) will make his way to the bathroom and immediately say to me "I don't feel pee-pee coming". For awhile I didn't want to force him and making him try seemed to make sense. Oh but I learned, after several close mishaps in the car, that he almost always has to go, he just doesn't want to stop or be interrupted to do so.

So I pulled out the oldest trick in the book one morning as we were preparing to go out and as my patience was wearing thin as he shouted "I don't have to go pee-pee". I marched into the bathroom and turned on the faucet and walked out. I had barely made it to the kitchen when I heard him exclaim "mommy, the pee-pee is coming, wow, you made the pee-pee come". I peeked back in with a smile and simply said "mommy magic" as I turned off the faucet.

He finished up and came out with this look of amazement...at least for now, I can still invoke wonder in him...I know I won't have those opportunities too much longer but for now, I revel in knowing I still have my magic wand.