Scratch and sniff skivvies?

Logan has been on a HUGE Transformer kick throughout the last year - and with the live action movie on it's way out (no he won't see it in theatres) that means loads of merchandise in the stores. Loads.

The two imps were both 'warned' before entering the big bulls-eye store - no toys. Mommy is not buying toys. Don't even ask. Don't even think of asking. No. They didn't ask. They asked to
"just look."

I can do "just look."

Luckily, look did not inspire wistfully staring and drooling primarily since the Transformer stretch of shelf was barren - totally and completely barren. It's been cleared of the older stock (the stuff Logan has been loading up on whenever he tucks away enough allowance or gift money). It's sitting dormant waiting for the movie related stuff to appear this weekend. So instead of staring wide-eyed at new toys, Logan read the shelf labels. He's got a birthday wish list formed on just that.

We found what we had really entered the big red bulls-eye shop for and started to make our way through the meandering carts to the check-out. I found, as we did so, a Transformer bathing suit. I was, being the softie I can sometimes be, willing to buy it for the kid. I mean really, his older suits are a tad snug. Except size saved me- the pair supposedly Logan's size would have slipped right off his hips and they had nothing smaller.

But the suit got me thinking - if that's out then maybe tshirts or PJs. I was willing to look. The kid really does need some wardrop replenishment as he's sitting nicely on the brink of a new size. Yet neither existed.

What DID exist?

Transformer Underwear.

Transformer underwear that glows in the dark.

I kid you not. (By the way, being the wonderful Mom I am, I have already pointed out that when Logan puts his shorts on over those lovely new underwear, it'll be dark under the pants and so he'll be glowing. I did feel the need to reinforce that we should not feel compelled to remove, lower, or look in said shorts just to check.)

When Logan gets a new toy or some trinket he likes to hold on to it in the car - preferably out of the package. Apparently glow-in-the-dark Transformer underwear is no different.

As I eased the van out of the lot and into the highway, Logan calls out in complete amazement:

"They DO smell like fruit!!"

"What does?" I said, already knowing and yet afraid to ask.

"My new underwear! It smells like fruit! It's like Megan's scratch and sniff pages in her book."

"Honey, I don't think your underwear is supposed to smell like fruit," I told him, trying hard not to laugh at him - too loud anyway.

"But then why are all these little pictures of fruit on my label?" he said.

I'm starting to think Fruit of the Loom was branded by someone that wanted to spread a little joy amongst mothers of the delightfully young and naive.


I'm digging five

The boy will be five next month. The very, very end of next month. There were times during the last two years one might have wondered if he'd live to see the day. We had a glimmer of hope earlier in the year when we attended back-to-school night at the preschool. The little hand-outs they had available summarizing 3, 4 and 5 year olds promised a calming and cooperative stage at 5.

There were days I clung to that promise like a water-logged lost-soul on the open sea clings to a life raft.

Don't get me wrong, over all Logan is a great kid. Really. He's got a great wit and a deep compassion - but sometimes that gets tucked neatly behind his mother's sarcasm and his father's selective hearing. Combine that with a sister who fully embraced "terrible twos" and is shaping up to reinforce my long held belief that "three is worse than two." You can see why sometimes my sanity was in doubt.

Yet lately there's been a change in the boy. He's been calmer. He's pushed back less. He's demanded infrequently. He's begun to pitch-in without being asked or reminded. He's sudenly much more interested in being helpful and giving than he is in 'having it all my way right now.' In short, he's fulfilling that little 'developmental sheet' prophecy.

Now, let's be honest. I stopped reading after the 5 year old sheet because sometimes I like living in ignorant bliss. I can sit and pretend that those tween/teen years are not going to make 2-3-4 look like a cake walk. I can stick my fingers in my ears chanting "La-la-la-I-can't-hear-you" when you try to tell me that there are still going to be 'rough' days at 5 or "just wait to see what he learns in school."

Ignorant bliss. Do you hear me?

I'm going to sit and relish the moment when the days are good much more often than they're challenging. I'm going to enjoy this time when our biggest struggle is whether he reads the first line to me or I read it to him. I'm going to hoard the lot of kisses and cuddles I get today because I already see that it's coming to an end (we are already forbidden to fuss and "snuggle" in public.)

So far 4 11/12ths, as Logan will declare himself, is making 5 look mighty fine.


Happy Mother's Day, Birthday and while we're at it Annivesary

May is a busy month in this house. First there's Mother's Day (which, I must say Logan is doing his very best to make very special). Then there's my birthday (a week from Wednesday) and then on the very last day is our wedding anniversary (10 years this year!) Usually there's a lot of smaller gifts on each occasion that I tend to order online myself or specifiy on a list that the guys stick to religiously. This year, however, the big guy decided to venture off on his own and do something special.
And special it is.

Knowing my passion for taking oodles of photos and my downright lust for the digital SLRs, he went and bought me one! I am like a kid on Christmas with my new Nikon D80. Anyone have any tips to share with me about it?

Now clearly, one can not comment on a new toy that takes pictures without sharing a picture! This one was one of the first I took with the camera (and admittedly run through the graphics program to brighten and sharpen a tad.)


Is he trying to tell me something?

Megan said "Maybe you can be my teacher next year at my school."

Logan cut in, "Maybe you can be MY teacher next year at MY school."

I said, "I can't teach at school but we can learn together any time you want at home." I explained that I didn't have the right certification - the right paperwork - to be a teacher at school. They, of course, asked why. "I didn't go to school to be a teacher" I explained.

Logan, without missing a beat, replied, "Well, maybe when you grow up you can be a teacher."