SEVEN!

My baby is seven today.

He had two thoughts on the matter:

1. He would rather be eleven, because that is his lucky number.

2. Perhaps he is seven because there are seven letters in BENNETT.

It occurred to me last night, that I won't get away with merely hosting a 'family & friends of the family' BBQ & Egg Hunt, as is our tradition, when my son started talking about all his friends that were going to be at his party....shit! So I whipped up a stack of invites and had the lad dictate me a list of pals from school and daycare to address them to. This morning was spent feverishly delivering invites to classmates that get a whole 24-hour notice on a party being held on a holiday weekend. Meanwhile, I'm stuffing more plastic eggs and crossing my fingers that at least a few of his friends can make it!

2008 - 2007 - post party '07
Many more memories of parties past on the pumpkin's blog.
(msg for url)

Why you wish you could shop with my kid...

My son noticed two people looking at this display and wondered...out loud...loud enough for said persons to hear him,


"Why do those fat people have money to buy that fat menu? Is it because they are fat?"


Charming, isn't he?

Wishful Thinking

Heza: Bennett, do you want to come outside with me?

Bennett Pumpkin: Sure! Are we going to the beach?!

Heza: (after long pause) No, we are going to go shovel snow...

BP: Oh. I'll stay inside and watch my cartoons then.

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This conversation took place yesterday morning after another overnight snowfall. Today, Bennett went to school donning an umbrella and rain boots. I never thought I could be so happy to see it pissing rain outside. Spring might actually be closer than I imagined...

Bennettisms

While watching Star Trek Nemesis, after a scene where the crew was "transported/beamed" to a new location:

Bennett: Wow! Did they get there with their magic?

Heza: No, it's called being transported.

Bennett: Well, I think they should have just taken the stairs.
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Watching the "Top Ten" on the music channel is part of our morning routine. Bennett sings along with many songs and I work with him to learn the lyrics to the ones he likes the most.

The other day I caught Bennett very confidently singing along with a song, "One Banana, One Banana, your a One Banana!"

The real lyrics? "Womanizer, Womanizer, your a Womanizer!"

I have no urge to correct him.

(Womanizer, by Britney Spears, seriously, how is she in the top ten? Did she not spend the first half of this year going nuts?)

After being sent off to find the remote that he was seen with last, Bennett came down the stairs and said, very authoritatively, "I could not find the remote, so I got an orange instead!" And with that he ended his search. Problem solved. Remote still M.I.A.

After being served his second sardine sandwich (blame my mother, not me), Bennett announced that he does not like sardines. And it only took him TWO sandwiches to figure out that he does not like eating pickled fish with their heads still attached...

Regarding his "Baby" Brother...

Bennett (said while poking his brother on the top of the head with his index finger): Mom, babies aren't 'spose be big like this one; they're 'spose to be tiny, tiny. That's what they're for!

Someone's been watching too much Treehouse...

Short people in this household are frequently quizzed on the titles/artists of the songs we are listening to, especially if they are making a "request."

Bennett: "I want to listen to Rocket Star." (Rock Star by Nickelback)
Heza: "Who sings it?"
Bennett: "Hinder."
Heza: "No."
Bennett: "Backyardigans!"

I Have a Nice Cold Bullet with Murphy's Name on it!

About the time that I decided that today could not get any worse, I found myself in a spectacular mood! Or it could have been the caffeine...three days deprivation can do that to a person, but damn, that cup of Starbucks goodness tasted fantastic!

After being housebound for three days with a very sick baby...no, wait...I did get to spend six spectacular hours in emerg on Sunday with the poor little guy...I rounded up the troops and headed out to Wal-Mart, since we were out of, well, everything. After shopping and going through the check out, I realized that my wallet was 15 km away, at home, on my desk. I could feel my brain smoking right about then. 30 km later, we had the groceries in our trunk and found ourselves at the Starbucks drive thru listening to someone take our order in Spanish. I told him that they clearly did not pay him enough. The odd part is that I understood everything he was asking me...even corrected him when he said one of the drinks was for 'el Niño'...nope, that one is for 'la Niña'...dude.

Now that the baby is finally eating again, and dehydration seems to be less of a concern, he has some lovely green and sticky nastiness attempting to glue his eyes shut. Tomorrow morning we will be hanging out at the clinic...you know, for fun.

Now, how about some Shay-isms...

Mid December, I call Jamie's house and Bonus Pumpkin 1 answers the phone: Hello.

Heza: Hi Princess.

BP1: *long silent pause* What did you call me?

Heza: I called you Princess.

BP1: *disgusted gasp* Here's my mother!
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Two or so weekends ago, just before I skipped town and left the children with the other mother and her man, BP1 looks at the Welder and says: What's in your pocket?

Heza: *chokes on the food she was swallowing*

The Welder (like the well-seasoned-father-of-three-whose-mind-is-not-permanently-in-the-gutter-like-the-person-choking-on-her-food): Well, that would be my cell phone and keys. (he says as he pulls the items out of his pocket to show her)

Heza, who has managed to take a breath without killing herself with her lunch: *shouts* Shayanna! Guys do not look in girls' purses and girls do not ask guys what they have in their pockets!!!

The Welder & BP1 stare blankly at me and the Other Mother, who over heard this exchange, nearly falls to the floor laughing.
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Tonight in the car, BP1: When we move, Grandpa will have Peace & Quiet. (referring to her great grandpa, whom she previously resided with and where her mother still resides while working during the week)

Heza: Grandpa has Peace & Quiet now, because you are not there.

BP1: He does not! Mommy is there. When we move, Grandpa will have Peace & Quiet!

Bennett: What is Peace & Quiet?

Heza: The opposite of Children.
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During the same car ride, BP1: When I am in my bed, I do not have that many questions!

Heza: Why is that?

BP1: Because I am asleep!

Heza: No kidding.
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And last, but not least, after two nights of bravery, she decided she was scared of the dark again and spent two nights sobbing when I shut her bedroom door. Today, she bravely announced that she once again 'likes the dark' and happily went to bed tonight...in the dark...with the door shut...without sobbing. She changes her mind about this 'liking the dark' thing about as often as she decides she loves or hates any particular outfit or food choice.
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And a Bonus Bennett-ism -

Pointing to a tube of toothpaste, Bennett asks: What does that say? Does it say Shiny?

Heza: Sure.

Bennett: For making your teeth nice and shiny?!

Heza: *Absolutely!

*I might have lied...it might have said, 'Crest'.

Doh!

After tiring of trying to put lace up boots on an autistic kid that is as helpful as a rag doll when being dressed, my mother tried to put Bennett's snow boots on my sister's godson, as an alternative, but was not having any better luck. Knowing that they had the same shoe size, she reached into the boots to see why she was having such trouble slipping them onto his feet; therein she found two socks jammed into the toe of EACH boot! Bennett had apparently been wearing them this way for quite some time, including BOTH trips to the Wild Lights the previous week.

Seriously, did he not think to reach into his boots, that must have felt three sizes too small and pull out the damn socks? No, in typical boy fashion, he just wore them that way and took the pain! He did, twice, complaining that he would rather wear his runners, after having dealt with the misery for several hours!

Raining Glass

I told him to use his feet...so he picked the ball up with his hands and threw it strait up in the air. He happened to be standing directly below the light fixture...

Cousin Pride

A few days ago, I had the nerve to refer to the new baby cousin as, "Uncle J.'s baby..."

Bennett immediately protested, "It's not J.'s baby! Uncle J. does not have a uterus!"

"My apologies, son. Auntie N.'s baby..."

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Tonight, my camera arrived safely back home (so did Nana!), loaded with beautiful pictures and video of The Nephew! (& of the very proud parents!) Bennett hogged the thing for half an hour, watching the videos of his new baby cousin over and over...then he declared, "I want to go to ******** and see him right now!"

Not up for the ten hour drive tonight, I used the best excuse in the world..."You have school tomorrow!"

I wondered how Bennett would react to the idea of a 2nd cousin...it would appear The Nephew! will be landing into open (cousin) arms!

Inner Family Relations...Redefined.

Bennett says to me, "I want to sleep at Nana's house tonight."

I reply, "You can't sleep at Nana's house because Nana is going to ******** to see Uncle J. & Auntie N. because the baby is ready to come out of Auntie N's uterus and that means that you and **** (The Niece!) are going to have a new baby cousin!"

Bennett immediately jumps up, and with great excitement, yells, "I'm going to be a Daddy!"

It would appear that he is over the fact that he will never be a Mommy...
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SIL finds out tomorrow if she will be induced on Thursday or on Friday...

Non-Edible

While helping me put away groceries, my son picked up this box and asked, "Mom, are these cheese strings?"

Ummm....No.


Early today, during a whiny spell, I asked Bennett, "Do you think you could find some cheese to go with your whine?"

He said, "No! I want an orange!" And with that he ran and found himself an orange, which he promptly brought to me, stating, "See, I want an orange to go with my whine! Can you peel it for me?"

And I did.

"Mama, I did not touch your camera!"

He very convincingly, and for no apparent reason, told me, "Mama, I did not touch your camera!"

"Oh?"

I stand corrected...

Guberstein. A nickname that my boy earned long ago.

A few days ago, when I referred to him as such, he broke into hysterical laughter and said to me, "I am not a Guberstein! I am a Guberheimer!"

Apparently, we are now speaking a new dialect of made up language in this house!

I am in trouble...

My son is on the phone right now...attempting to call Nana. Why? I did something he did not like, and he told me, "That's it! I am calling your Mother!"