The lure of Facebook is the ease of grabbing a thought and posting it for your friends to see. Unfortunately, that lure comes with a price — only some people see it, and then it disappears forever into the void of social media’s instant gratification. In fact, the whole reason I started this blog was to capture those ephemeral moments that were disappearing in time.
The last 3+ months have seen me return to “lazy” Facebook posting for the quick laugh. Even then, many moments with the kids were not captured and posted. So many moments already lost, that we won’t even remember 5 days from now, let alone 5 years or 5 decades.
So without further ado, here are some moments borrowed back from Facebook posts over the last few months. They prove, once again, that Kids Are Weird:
May 16: Jack flipped on his back at the dinner table… And before we could admonish him, Peter surprised us with a head shaking /facepalm. It was so hilarious, we asked him to do it again for this picture.
May 5: “Wanna come’n see our fort when i’s done?” asked Peter. “Sure,” we both said.
“TANG COCK!” he yelled in response.
*ummmmm….* “What was that, Peter?”
“Tang cock!” he repeated. “TANG COCK!”
*worried exchange of glances… why does he care about an orange-drink penis?*
Jack: “He said, ‘Stay and talk,’ Mom.” *ohhhhh…. whew*
MY children have learned to seize the day and enjoy every moment of life.
YOUR children ate ice cream an hour before dinner.
MY children have a sense of individualism and understand their unique value.
YOUR children demanded separate bedtime stories last night.
MY child is a motivated, self-starting get-it-done kind of person who is not a slave to the whims of fashion.
YOUR child climbed into your bed at 6am, having already gotten dressed in an orange T-shirt and blue shorts for another 50 degree rainy day.
MY child is steadily improving his hand-eye coordination and problem-solving abilities.
YOUR child is wasting the morning playing Lego Wii.
The bottom is all from one piece of brown construction paper — he didn’t cut strips for sticks, he cut out the triangles and squares to make it look like stacked sticks — and then he crumpled up orange paper convincingly and glued it on top.
This Jack-the-artiste stuff must’ve been how my folks felt when I started playing piano. “Where the hell did THIS talent come from?”
Okay, I get that 4yo Peter still wets his bed at night. But today he wet his *brother’s* bed in the morning. As in, they were playing on Jack’s bed, and Peter suddenly just let loose all over the place — pillows, sheets, stuffed animals, part of the wall, all soaked. This was definitely not in the post-potty-trained brochure.
This has been the weirdest day. Jack sleeps till 9am. Peter eats more than he ever has for breakfast. We take them to a kids orchestra concert with an instrument playground and Jack has a mini-panic attack, afraid to try playing anything in front of the instructors. During the concert, an exhausted Peter (why? he slept fine) curls up in a ball and begs to go home, and falls asleep in the car. It’s a beautiful day out, but I have zero motivation — I lay in bed for a few hours while the boys play Wii. In sports, the Red Sox blow an 8-0 lead, while the White Sox throw the 21st perfect game in MLB history. What is going on?
Hilarious. Love my boys. They’re awesome. It’s too bad I did not capture them singing Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger” immediately after this song. Also too bad that Peter is off key here, because I swear he was pitch-matching the first time through the refrain — makes a singing parent proud.
It’s hard to, in good faith, tell the kids, “No, you can’t play Wii, it’s gorgeous out,” when all you want to do is curl up in front of your own computer and take a break from all the housework playing some Diablo 3 beta. This is why I prefer winter — guilt-free video gaming.
After hearing our 7yo Jack singing a song by Fun, our 4yo Peter mused, “Why does dat guy wanna set da world on fire?” Then he looked out the window and yelled, “I SEE FIRE EVERYWHERE!”
I’ve “played Dungeons & Dragons” with Jack before, which wouldn’t resemble D&D to most of its fans. It’s all about the story and, when possible, the miniatures. Well, Jack decided he wanted to run an adventure for me. How could I say no? Well, it turns out he was pretty ambitious, and the whole thing went surprisingly well — though I had to enforce the “1 hour” limit as it was before bedtime and he would have gone on forever with his stories! (At one point I walked out of the room to get a drink and came back and he was still excitedly explaining what happened in one scene.) His imagination, creativity, and story-telling abilities continue to astound me. Here’s a photo journal of the whole thing.
Jack made his own breakfast this morning with minimal supervision. Fried eggs, waffle, sausages…. And a surprise tear or two in daddy’s eyes.