Kid Logic, Kidlogical

They say it takes two to three weeks to either break a bad habit or start a new (presumably) good one.

Well, darn it, I got out of practice with blogging again and I sorely miss it. I like to tell myself you've missed me too. Time to get writing again, even if just to remember how grand it feels to hear the clicks and clacks of my keyboard and how magical it can feel when the words pour from my mind onto these pages.

My darling son Turbo has an inquisitive mind. I love that about him. Or, in Internet-speak, I <3 that about him.

With fresh fruit more abundant at grocery stores these days, my husband and I have started introducing the idea of dessert after a few meals each week. So far, we've had strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. Somehow, even though we are far far away from summer, the blackberries have been the overwhelming favorite as they were oh-so-juicy and not even a little bit tart. These kids are in for a rude awakening the first time we come across them growing on the local walking paths. "Sure you may eat those." "Mom, ew, these are terrible!" Or at least those are my memories when I ate them too soon in the season as a kid.

Tonight dessert was strawberries and before I describe the hilarious and beautiful kidlogical moment, I want to take a moment to pat myself on the back for introducing the concept of dessert without it having to mean piles of chocolate chip cookies or mounds of vanilla ice cream smothered in buttery caramel sauce... mmm, is anyone else hungry?

I am quite sure I do plenty of things the 'wrong' way (even though I swear there is no right or wrong in parenting), but this one feels right. Fruit is so naturally sweet and delicious and also full of fiber and other goodies. And I'm sure we'll have our chocolate nights too, but only after fruit is well-established as the norm.

All hail the strawberry!

Kidlogical moment #1
Turbo: "Mom, why are they called strawberries when they aren't made out of straws?"

Kidlogical moment #2

Turbo: "Mom, why are they called walkie-talkies when we don't walk on them?"

Keep the questions coming, kid.

Where Milk Comes From

Oh, it's begun it has. I have such fond memories of my parents asking my sister and I questions that made us ponder and guess and struggle to serve up the right answer. Questions like, "Where does beef come from?" When our parents finally admitted that meat comes from animals, I think the first guess when asked again about the beef was a tentative, "Giraffe?"

Sometimes I think I had kids just to hear the funny things they say.

Tonight at dinner Turbo declared, "Cows give us milk."

Ooh, goodie! A perfect opportunity to see where his kid logic would lead...

Me: "How do cows give us milk?"

Turbo, matter-of-fact-ly: "It comes from their bodies. They give it to us from their bodies."

Me: "Where in their bodies does milk come from?"

Turbo: "In their bottoms... where the babies are also."

Me: "The babies are in there too?"

Turbo: "Yes and the babies will never, never, never come out of there."

Me: "Why won't the babies come out?"

Turbo, shrugging: "Cuz they don't."

Sponge Nap

Kid logic at its finest:

One evening last week I couldn't convince a dusty-bodied Turbo that he needed a bath. We don't do baths every night in this house, but this was a night when a bath was unquestionably needed and, for whatever reason, my darling boy had no interest.

Thus began the negotiations. I got it down to the minimum requirements of feet washing and bum washing. The rest... who cares, right?

Me: "Turbo, you don't have to take a full bath, but we need to take a small bath. You don't have to sit down. It's called a sponge bath."

Turbo: "OK." [sure wish he could be this agreeable when broccoli is on the table.]

To be fair, I didn't use an actual sponge so in hindsight I can see how the following conclusion was incorrectly made.

On Sunday, when it was time for Turbo's nap, I heard Turbo coin a new term called "sponge nap."

We're in a lovely transition period around here where Turbo doesn't always take a nap. I call this transition "a taste of purgatory," as Turbo gets increasingly nutso as the day and evening wear on and it's not always tea and roses and I'm convinced I must be paying for sins of my adolescence.

I told Turbo it was nap time.

Turbo: "I don't want to take a nap. I want to play."

Me, stifling a sigh: "You don't have to sleep, but you do have to lay in your bed quietly."

Turbo: "I don't want to take a long nap. I want to take a sponge nap. And then I want to play."

It took me a minute to realize that, in Turbo math, short = sponge.

Kid logic = Kidlogical = love it!

Preschool Financial Wisdom

I don't know how it happened, but we seem to be teaching Turbo some lessons on money without any real plan or intent. I hope we don't mess up his financial future.

Some background:

1. Turbo has developed this lovely little habit of flicking the lights on and off (and on and off and on and off). I've tried various methods to get him to stop. No dice.

2. One time last week when Turbo asked if he could get a special treat at the store on the way home from school, Dad replied, "Do you have any money?" - the next morning as he woke in his usual half-awake grogginess he said to me while rubbing his eyes, "Mommy, can you help me find my coins?" I was a little lost until I heard the story of how special treats = money.

3.We had dinner at a local restaurant on Saturday night with some friends. There was an enormous gumball machine in the lobby and when Turbo asked if he could have a "ball" we said to him, "That costs money. We don't have any money right now." Uh, what? I can't always explain the things we say as parents.

On Sunday, Turbo was doing his on-off-on-off trick with the lights and this time I tried reasoning with him.

Me: "Please don't do that. It wastes money when you turn the lights on and off and on and off. We need money to buy things like food and toys."

Turbo: "And balls at the restaurant?"

Me: "Yes, and balls at the restaurant."

Later that day I was washing dishes while Turbo ate a snack at the kitchen table. He got my attention and I'm so glad I turned in his direction to witness the visual that went along with this statement.

He blinked both eyes as hard as he could - on, off, on, off - and said, "Mom, this wastes money."