For a Laugh: Breast X-Rays

So a couple of weeks ago Oliver had a really bad cough. He had had pneumonia a few months ago so I took him to the doctor to get checked out. They decided that a lung x-ray was in order because his breathing was a bit laboured and my doctor sent me to the clinic to have it done.

The clinic is brand new and I’ve never been there before so I didn’t know my way around. I spotted the information desk and decided to ask rather than wander around aimlessly with a toddler that’s just sat through an examination and was nearing nap time. There was a young guy at the desk, in his mid twenties at most.

Me: “Excuse me, where do I need to go for a chest x-ray?”

Young Guy: “Do you need an x-ray for your chest or for your breasts?”

As he asks this, his eyes kind of slide to my chest area, not in a leering way but in a subconscious I-just-said-the-word-breasts-so-I-should-look-at-them kind of way.

Before I can even reply he’s stammering and pointing the way to the elevators and telling me which floor to go to.

I couldn’t help smirking but I didn’t bother telling him that the x-ray was for my 2 year old son, or that I’m pretty sure there are no such things as “breast x-rays.”

The Sandbox Battle Cry…”MINE!”

Take a moment to read…

You may have seen this floating around on the internet. It’s funny because it’s SO true. Oliver thinks that everything is his. He shouts “mine!” with conviction about anything from the lobster tank in the grocery store to the drill Daddy is using to build the deck. However, his “mine!” is never so fierce as when it’s directed at another toddler.

The sandbox at our favourite park is a bit of a battle ground for the toddlers of the neighbourhood. It’s like a scene from Braveheart but instead of blue-tatooed Scots shouting “freedom!” there are sand encrusted two year olds yelling “mine!” while brandishing plastic shovels. Of course all the parents jump in to staunch the flow of tears and encourage their little ones to share and play nicely.

Interacting with the other parents at the sandbox is the most awkward part of the whole “mine!” thing. Oftentimes you have to apologize on behalf of your overzealous child. Or you say in a loud voice something like, “You have to share the toys, honey. When that boy is done playing you can have a turn” which is really code for the other kid’s parent translating into, “please make your kid share that toy with my kid.”

Most of the time though, we laugh and roll our eyes at our greedy little offspring and their presumptions that everything in their line of vision belongs to them. We feel comforted in the fact that they’ll eventually grow up into well adjusted adults that share everything and play nicely.

Hey, wait a minute…

 

Tales From Kindergarten

Kindergarten kids say the darndest things. And by “darndest” I mean brutally honest and totally hilarious.

For example…today one little boy with the sweetest green eyes and a shock of curly red hair asked me innocently, “are you going to have a baby?”

Me: Pardon?

Him: Are you going to have a baby?

Me: No, why? (in retrospect, I kinda walked into this…)

Him: Because your tummy is all big and puffy. (yes, he said “puffy”)

Me: Well, my tummy is just a bit big I guess.

Him: From eating?

Me: (uncontrollable laughter)

He totally called me out. I like to think of myself as struggling with some stubborn post baby weight (even though Oliver will be 2 next month) as if the weight is just overstaying its welcome and I have no control over it. But this little red-headed cutie set me straight…I’m puffy because I eat too much.

For the record…my tummy isn’t THAT puffy. And I was wearing a shirt with horizontal stripes, which will henceforth be banished from my wardrobe.

Love You Forever…In a Way That’s a Little Creepy

Anyone that has kids has most likely read Robert Munsch’s Love You Forever. It’s a classic. For those of you that are unfamiliar, it’s a beautiful story about a boy growing into a man and the love his mother has for him. Oh, and it’s a little creepy.

Consider this line from the book:

“…she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed…”

Nothing says “sleep tight” like having your mother crawl across the floor of your dark room to peer at you while you’re sleeping. No, that’s not scary.

Or what about this part of the story:

“But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town.  If all the lights in her son’s house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed.”

Is his mother a former prowler? She got creeping around down pat, checking to make sure his lights are out. She’s even got a ladder on her car for crying out loud!

But do you want to hear the scariest thing though? I am like that mother! Seriously, every night I silently twist Oliver’s bedroom door knob, carefully tiptoe across his bedroom floor, pausing to cringe when the floor creaks, holding my breath as I reach his crib and then stand there and creep on him. Every. Single. Night.

It started out as a “I’m-a-new-mother-and-I’m-afraid-my-baby-is-going-to-stop-breathing” compulsion. But it’s also afforded me the opportunity to take pictures like this:

Anyways, I thought the compulsion to check that Oliver is still alive would go away. Obviously, he’s out of the SIDS woods now but I still feel like I have to make sure he’s breathing before I go to bed. And if Love You Forever is any indication, it doesn’t go away. Before I know it, I’ll be strapping a ladder to the roof of my car. Unless of course Oliver doesn’t move to the other side of town. Maybe he’ll live at home with me.

No, that’s not scary.

Reinventing Bedtime Stories

I’m pretty rigid about protecting Oliver’s bedtime routine. It’s one of my favourite times of the day because it’s one of the only times that we spend all together as a family. The two main features of the routine are bath time and story time. Oliver loves to do both and I love watching him love them. If I had to choose, I’d have to say that reading stories is my favourite though. I get to do funny voices, Oliver’s facial expressions and reactions to the stories are priceless and last but definitely not least, he sits all cozy on my lap (a perk that’s soon to be a thing of the past I fear…).

So what’s his favourite book at the moment? Guess. Goodnight Moon? No. But that’s a classic. Hippos Go Berserk? Wrong again. But good guess. Little Engines Can Do Big Things, featuring Thomas the Tank Engine? Close, but no cigar.

I present to you his current favourite “bedtime story”. A 2006 Gaudi calendar.

That’s right…a calendar. And we don’t “read” it just once. We “read” it over and over again. So of course now I’m thinking, wow! my son is going to be an artist or an architect. How many kids out there are revelling in Gaudi’s chimney flutes? But hey, I could be wrong. Maybe tots everywhere are being lulled to sleep by the dulcet tones of a 2010 Monet calendar or fighting off nightmares after indulging in a 2012 calendar featuring Dali.

So maybe my kid is quirky. Maybe he really is drawn to the fine arts. All I know is that if he’s going to snuggle up on my lap, I’ll “read” him whatever he wants.

Kids Draw the Darndest Things

If you need a laugh today – here it is! Let me start by saying that I didn’t draw this. I spied this little masterpiece at a school that I was recently working at. Thank goodness for cameras on phones!

So I’m a supply teacher which means I get to meet lots of different kids of all ages and I’m exposed to tons of different teaching strategies, without all the fuss of marking and planning (which is perfect when you come home to a toddler every day and piles of grad school journal articles to read…hmmm maybe I should be reading those right now).

Anyways, lately I’ve been getting called in to supply in kindergarten classrooms. This kid’s self portrait was pinned up on the teacher’s personal bulletin board. I imagine she kept this for herself so that no matter how frenetic her days with a room full of 4 year olds get, she has something to put a smile on her face. Hell…she probably laughs out loud every time. I know I do.

I love the things kids come up with…they are always good for a laugh. I can’t wait until Oliver’s fine motor skills are developed enough to produce a little comic relief art work of his own. The tricky part will be not laughing at it in front of him. Seriously, sometimes I think one of the biggest parenting challenges is keeping a straight face. 🙂