Overheard

Dan is putting Jack to sleep, and they're lying in Jack's bed talking quietly.

Dan stops talking to clear his throat, and Jack proclaims loudly, "One thing I DO know about myself...when I cough hard, I FART hard."

Dan quickly says goodnight and runs from the room, shaking with silent laughter.

Jack calls after him, "I can hear you laaaaaaughing!"

Overheard

Jack, while I help him put on underwear and pajamas: Do you know at night my penis and my butt trade places?

Me, distracted: Wait...what?

Jack, totally serious: Yeah, like the ceiling fan. They go around--my penis goes to the back, my butt goes to the front. My butt goes to the back, my penis goes to the front.

Me: Wow.

Jack, skeptically: What, you've never heard of this?

Overheard

Jack: I'm really pumped about the Superbowl this weekend.

Me: Really?

Jack: Definitely.

Me: Wow...who are you rooting for?

Jack: The Steel Packers.


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Sydney, upon seeing any professional sport on tv: FOOTBALL!!!!

Biology Lessons

(all from Jack if that isn't immediately obvious)

"Mom, did you know that cows pee milk?"

"Sydney has a penis...it's just hiding in her body."

"Dogs can poop outside because they have furry hineys, so they won't get cold. It is too cold for me to poop outside."

"Tomatos are red potatoes."

"This vitamin makes me act crazy...seriously, it's not me."

"I just tooted without making any noise!"

...and I quote...

These are all from Jack:

"My family is the worst!"

"I love my family!"

"Happy Christmas everybody! Did you hear me?! I SAID HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"

"You gotta come see this thing--it's in the toilet."

"I'm re-decorating my play room. With stickers."

"I did not draw on that window with crayon...I think maybe a spider did it."

Overheard

Dan, changing Sydney's diaper: "Keep your hands off of your lady parts!"

Dan, trying to feed both children: "This is becoming less fun for me!"

Jack, over Sydney's screeching: "Do you want to keep this baby?"

Jack, sniffling: "This booger is like a giant like a T-Rex in my nose."

Co-worker, on being proselytized to at work: "He's a great guy, but he is jacked up on Jesus."

How old is old?

Today as I picked Jack up from school, he regaled me with the history of his preschool while we strolled the halls on our way to the exit.

"You know, this school is actually not that old," he explained.

"Well, how old is old?" I asked.

"Eh? I am four."

"I mean, you said 'old' so I just want to know, what does that mean? How many years?" I inquired.

He paused, mid-stride. "Well...is 50 old?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "Pop-Pop is 50...ish."

"OK. Then this school is actually not Pop-Pop-old."

"Good to know," I said, as we continued on our tour.

"And someone actually threw up right here!" he exclaimed, gesturing to a small spot on the carpet.

There are no words.

Finally. There is a word...a word that definitely has new meaning in my life. I have so much to say about my new daughter that I can barely settle on any one thread to explain myself adequately, much less as extensively as I want.

So I will start with this: Sydney Michelle Tarkenton burst into this world at 6:52am on September 30th. She made a swift grand entrance (thankfully!) and it was as easy as I could have hoped for, especially given her stats: 9 lb, 1 oz, 22". I was only in labor for 5 hours and change, and only pushed for 10 minutes! God, you have my sincerest thanks.

She is thus far a magnificent creature who rarely cries, and when she does it is so sheep-like and sweet that it doesn't send me cringing to a heap on the floor like baby Jack's cries did. Instead I can smile and reassure her and she JUST STOPS. I didn't know that they made babies like this. During my entire pregnancy I fervently prayed and hoped that I would be blessed to have a non-colicky child this time; to have a baby that I could coo over and enjoy as opposed to someone who made me flinch and cower with his loud and angry tirades that often lasted over three hours at a time.

Although baby Jack is often maligned in this family, CHILD Jack is so amazing and smart and funny and heartbreakingly cute that he has more than atoned for the mental and emotional reign of terror that he mounted for the first 6 months of his life. He deserves a break after the way that he came into the world--5 days in the NICU, reflux disease, medication, eye-problems, and two new idiot parents. He has earned his stripes.

But this new one...this little, tiny woman-child who grunts like a pig to be fed and sweetly sighs in her sleep as if she's singing her own ongoing lullabye; this tiny bundle of the sweetest smelling fuzz and tender skin who SLEEPS for HOURS at a time; this little extraordinary being is improving my life with her every breath and noise. Her sweet, sweet presence is like a healing balm that rapidly oozes into every crack and fissure that has ever threatened to break my heart. I wonder if there are enough cheesy and sentimental words to explain how I feel about her, how serene and amazing and PLEASANT she is. I feel more than blessed. There are no words.

(PS. I will be sure to come back and read this when she is 13 and surly.)

"Emergency"

I know that pregnancy has side-tracked my life lately (and brain, and stomach, and wardrobe--I'm down to THREE outfits that fit), but there is a lot going on in our house. Mostly EMERGENCIES. In Jack's world, everything is an emergency. He has emergency toys, emergency clothes, emergency cups, an emergency backpack...you name it. He doesn't seem to understand the concept of emergencies, only that to label something as such makes it much more exciting and therefor way better.

All of this emergency-ing doesn't really bother me. You have to remember who I grew up with: someone who watched certain BETAMAX movies 500 times in a row (like My Little Pony: The Movie). Someone who watched these moves SO MANY TIMES that they ceased to have a grip on reality and started to believe that her family members were actually characters from this movie, and, on more than one occasion, called her mother "Scorpan" in public.

But I digress. This drama doesn't bother me, but it does bother Dan (much to my delight). Dan is not a daydreamer, so he cannot yet appreciate Jack's ventures into his imaginary emergency world. Dan is learning to tolerate the constant chatter and inane ramblings of his almost-four-year-old progeny. I, fortunately, am a pro as I already have had lots of practice from the first 7 years of my pre-parenthood relationship with Dan. Ahem.