Words of the Week

Our bedtime routine underwent some changes once Peter got his big boy bed. Remember, their beds are pushed together. After books, I tuck both of them in, then lay with Pete for a few minutes, make up songs, help him turn his brain off until he's ready to konk. From there, I crawl over to Vincent's bed, let him scratch my arm (a longtime comfort mechanism of his), while stretching to hold Pete's hand with my free extremity. If you could have a photo of it, I would look ridiculous.

Lately, Vincent hasn't needed much help getting to sleep. After nearly five years of difficulty, the combination of Peter in the room and the routine beginning with Peter, thus forcing him to wait, has allowed him to figure out how to put himself to sleep. As great as this feat is, he doesn't much care for it. He wants the time to armscratch while still awake. Which leads us to this week's words.

Last night, the books were done, the light was out, the tucking was finishing and I said, "Okay Vincent, I'll be over in five minutes but you'll probably already be asleep." To which he replied in that quiet whine of an exhausted kid,

"I don't want me to be!"

Truck Accident

A couple of weeks back, we attended our local Touch a Truck event. You may remember (or you may not) me writing about this a couple of years back. I went on a tirade about clowns. Still hate 'em, by the way. So the gist of Touch a Truck is this - tons of local civil service, construction and labor companies park their coolest trucks in a giant municipal lot and kids can climb all over them. It's great, cheap fun. No, I'm not writing about this as an excuse to show you awesome photos. I'm writing about it because it directly relates to one of the great early traumas in Pete's life.

The night he got his penis caught in a truck.

No, not a real truck thankfully. A toy truck. Here's the deal. It was about 7:30 PM and he was playing with his toys, naked. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. The boys take baths and like that time to prance around freely before being confined in their PJs. I mean, who wouldn't? This is the time before they learn self-consciousness so it's our job as parents to encourage behavior like this.

So he's playing with his trucks, naked, in a corner facing the fireplace. I can only see the back of him from across the room. Suddenly I hear an odd sound and I turn to see a pretty wicked pre-cry. You know, like a "JESUS CHRIST WHAT DID I JUST DO?" moment before the pain strikes? This was the moment he realized that a small portion of his penis had gotten stuck around the tire of one of his small, motorized toy trucks.

Then the screaming starts and I run over to see what the deal is. The issue is immediately apparent and I quickly decide to remove him from the cramped area and into a more suitable operating environment. Upon laying him down on the couch, I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this. Pete's screaming, Vincent's hovering, Rose is trying her best to help but I'm freaking out as much as Pete is. Empathy and all. After about 30 seconds that felt like 30 days, I wound the wheel back, releasing the tiny imprisoned piece of Pete's boyhood. The relief in the room was palpable and after a bit of ice, he was a new man. No blood or permanent damage. The kid's got one tough...erm...situation.

There's no moral here other than the obvious one - don't get your motorized toys near your penis. Even today, the kid remembers it well. He raced a little car across the kitchen floor saying, "Watch out, Daddy. You don't want it to get your peesh."

Lessons learned.

Words of the Week

New feature on Da Milk - funny verbal tidbits from the past week (or so. Yeah - sorry for the delay). It's our version of Kids Say the Darndest Things.

Vincent started his new school this week and it being a parochial school, he was introduced to the concept of holy water - something that could be confusing to the newcomer.

Upon telling my Mom about his first day, one of the first things he mentioned was this phenomenon:

"Mom-Mom (smiling)! They gave me God water!"

Refreshing God Water. You know, we should think about marketing that.

In the Milky Way

I make a daily case for always having a camera on me. These were taken during a very quick trip to Milky Way Farm in Chester Springs. The place is great. You can go eat homemade ice cream, then get super close to real animals. If it gets better than that, these kids don't know it. So with bellies full, they walk from stinky animal to stinky animal while we feverishly try to capture cool moments before they run away to the next thing. It was around 7:30pm, so the light was really nice.

<---When I broke out my camera(phone), there were only two calves checking Vincent out. The black one must've stuck its head out at the very last second and it totally makes it.

This one (below) is the real Vincent and Pete. Anticipating the arrival of a friendly sheep that 2 seconds later they will both jump back away from, fearing a lick.

That's all I got for now. Stay tuned for photos of giant trucks and a related story that will make my male readers cringe. Only minor injuries, of course.

Laying Down the Law

Let me preface this by saying the boys are usually good. We have our days, as all families do, but they're good kids. That said, the following is an entire voicemail, left for me by my beloved wife today that I thought bore transcription. Rose - don't hate me.

9/1/09

3:22 PM, a very calm and rational-sounding wife:

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm in the middle of a bit of a standoff here...sooo.... I am not going to be cleaning up the family room. I told the boys ten times they had to do it (Ed. note - Clean up after themselves.) so ummm.. they're not allowed to do anything tonight until that room gets cleaned up. I mean, I'm gonna be here for the next hour then I think you need to be the one to make them do it (Ed. note - She was meeting a friend for dinner - a rare treat) but if not, I think you have to be the one to enforce it...because...I just....I can't do anything other than ask a million billion times and punish and...we're already not getting a DVD from the library this week and so...that's it. If they would rather play than clean up the mess than that's fine but they have to clean it up tonight when you get home. Ok? Ok - love you."

Ah parenthood. I learned later that Pete had squeezed toothpaste all over his feet today as well. Wish I had a picture of that, actually.

Dear stay-at-home parents - you rule.