What’s That Sound: Volume Eleven(ish)

Having a boy child is often a confounding situation.

Like, how does this happen?

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And more importantly, after it happens, how does one hang up their coat, look at a sucker stuck solidly to the hoodie, and say “eh, I’m good.”?!

This kid.

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So let’s document the inner workings of such a powerful mind.

On a typical day, Noah wakes up before me, plays in his room until eight zero zero am (the exact moment he’s allowed to wake me), then comes and climbs in bed with me and starts asking questions. Because it’s best to get a jump on the day’s inquiries as soon as possible.

Most of his questions I answer while still asleep. Sometimes they wake me up enough to make a mental note to write them down when I wake up enough to open my eyes.

Such was the case for Monday’s line of questioning.

“Hey Mom, when do people get telepathy?”

“They don’t.”

“Yes they do – you said everyone gets telepathy.”

“Noo….telepathy means you can hear people’s thoughts. What are you thinking of?”

“When you stop liking your parents.”

“Oh. That’s puberty. Somewhere between 10 and 13.”

“Okay thanks.”


In the car, the kids sometimes team up on me…

Ali: “What’s a stepsister?”

I tried to explain it, but everyone became even more confused, so I resorted to an example.

“If I died and Mr. David died, and then Daddy and Miss Ashley got married, AJ and Tessa would be your stepsisters.”

Silence.

Noah: “So would we live at their house or ours?”

Me: “I’m DEAD in this scenario. Ask your father.”

Lesson Learned: One must be careful that fake stepsister scenarios don’t sound too appealing.


Noah gasped at breakfast with the excitement of a eureka moment.

“I just figured out why Gramamma’s cat was so mean!!! It was striped!”

Ali: “So….? It wasn’t mean because it was striped….”

Noah: “No! But it was actually a tiger!!!”


Every now and then, a “HEY MOMMMY!!!!” post-bedtime callback is award-winningly original.

Such as this one….

“HEY MOMMMMMY!!!!”

“Yes, Noah?”

“When did you and daddy first date? How old was Pop? How old were you? I wasn’t even in your tummy yet – I was just an egg. I have eggs in my tummy. No I don’t. Ali has eggs in her tummy. But they won’t hatch for a long time.”


I was having a lovely quiet moment on the porch. I was wondering why Noah hadn’t disturbed me yet but was not curious enough to find out why.

After several long, quiet, questionless moments, I went inside to refill my water.

At which point I heard the repetitive screaming emanating from the bathroom.

“Moooooom! I need toilet paper!!!!”

Ignorance is always bliss.


Noah: “Would you like a mint?”

Me: “No thank you.”

Noah: “Do you need anything at all?”

Me: “Yes actually. I need my eye drops.”

Noah: “I don’t know where those are.”

Me: “I can tell you…”

Noah: “Nah, I’m good.”


Having a beginner reader is such joy.

“Hey mom! I just saw a store called The Butt Barn!”

“…or the Boot Barn.”

….incidentally we were also next door to Hooters. But that’s more of a Boob Barn.


And one story about Ali…

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“You remember that time you asked me what I am going to do differently as a parent? Well I thought of one.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Well if my kids want something, they’ll have to come up with the money. I’m not just going to buy it for them.”

“Do I do just buy you things?”

“Sometimes. I think.”

….And my daughter has articulated the literal definition of Peeing in One’s Wheaties.

What’s That Sound: Birthday Edition.

Today, this kid is turning six.

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He’s become quite an adventurer this year, always willing to take on a challenge. And ask questions. And ask more questions. And also more. Questions.

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Here are a few things he’s said or asked recently…

“These mints are too spicy. I’m going to save them for when I’m older. I’ll like them then.”

“Uh, you probably should just give them to your sister.”

“No! I’ll be six in just a few days!!”

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“You know what would be nice?”

“What?”

“To have a little brother.”

“Oh really? You want me to have a baby in my tummy?”

“Yes. Can you do that?”

“Not anymore.”

“But you could put a baby in your tummy?”

“Well, me and Daddy could…”

“And how exactly do you make a baby be in your tummy?”

“Well, that’s an interesting question…”

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Stomping off to the bathroom after a particularly tight hug….

“Mom made me pee in my pants! That’s how hard she squozed me.”

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“Your shirt smells like coffee.”

(I smell it) “No it doesn’t.”

“Okay well then your chest smells like coffee.”

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Me: “What is this gunk all over your fingernails?” (I start scraping) “Wait. Is this poop?”

“Yeah I did poop last night….”

“Let’s go wash your hands.”

“But I just did.”

“There’s POOP on your fingernails. Not good enough. What happened last night??”

“I had to change my pants and my underwear…and I got most of it off the floor…”

“What went wrong???”

“I pooped.”

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Upon taking a hilarious video of him, he demanded,

“Delete it!!!!! And kick yourself!!!!!”

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Speaking of, here’s a little compilation of a few fantastic seconds of Noah Videos from the year…

And now I’ll go kick myself.

Happy sixth birthday, kid.

p.s. This year, Noah especially enjoyed watching these old videos of himself from when he was two and a half. He had no idea he was such a fashion icon as a toddler. He requests that for his birthday, you watch and enjoy as well.

On the Growth of a Man.

Noah has been busy lately, growing up and stuff.

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He’s become a puzzlingly model student (he has for his entire life held a staunch non-education policy), his imagination is running wild with ideas of commerce, and he got his first loose tooth.

He tried to play the tooth thing cool, just slipping it into conversation one morning.

“Oh by the way Mom, I have a loose tooth.”

He snarled his face into a grimace to attempt to hold the smile back.

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But I knew he’d been waiting on that development for years, desperately ripping at his teeth even at three years old, so I reacted with a level of excitement that made it irresistible for him to keep his straight face.

He began working on his tooth, night and day, wiggling and tugging, determined to accomplish this milestone of adulthood as soon as possible. There could be time found for tooth wiggling even at the waterpark.

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The milestone brought about philosophical conversations about what it meant, and I mean REALLY meant, as well.

“You can’t have kids until you lose all your baby teeth and get adult teeth.”

Way to set some goals, kid.

Meanwhile, he opened up shop. He became a restaurateur, setting up vast and detailed restaurants in his room. At one point, they were picnic tables outside a food truck, which he named “Rocket City Food Truck.” Later, he opened up a full-service restaurant in my living room floor – and yes, it stayed there for many days.

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During the Olympics, he insisted that I create themed décor to encourage more patrons to come, hence the ringed tablecloths.

Nothing made him have to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling more ferociously than for me to yell out “Hey! Table 4 needs a coffee refill! And Table 6 needs more cheese biscuits!! Table 9 isn’t waiting ANOTHER SECOND for their check!!”

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To attract a hipster crowd, he built a fantastically fancy Tinker Toy coffee maker. Not sure if it’s French Press or Cold Brew, but whatever it is, there’s some seriously snobby coffee getting made – and the kind you have to hold your mouth just right to pour.

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As I was cleaning out some stuff, I found these perfect placemats for him to decorate,

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as well as an order pad.

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…Because I’m pretty much the coolest hoarder there ever was.

His deductive reasoning is coming along nicely, too – last week, when trying to figure out why Not-Crazy-Renee didn’t answer my text right away, Noah philosophized,

“….Maybe she’s in the car…because she puts sunscreen on her kids when you don’t put sunscreen on us, so maybe she doesn’t text in the car like you do.*”

So yeah. According to Noah, Renee is a much more responsible person than me. All based on sunscreen.

* I do try not to text in the car. But sometimes when I’m at a traffic light, something has to be answered. And my father taught my children to (rightfully) fuss at me when I do. But that’s okay. They tattle on him driving WAY TOO FAST in return.

Noah has also busied himself asking me the tough questions of life, wrinkling up his nose and saying, “Mom, why do you smell like leggings?”

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And, while watching the women’s gymnastics, inquiring, “Is there fire rings in the boys gymnastics?”

No, but there totally should be, son. And they should put you in charge of Olympic marketing.

After three weeks of working that tooth with the dedication of a Hyena picking clean the bones of roadkill, Noah came in my room one morning to wake me up, got in my bed to snuggle, and said,

“Oh yeah. I pulled my tooth out last night.”

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“Wait WHAT?!? (His sister’s first tooth pull was full-on trauma. I didn’t know how to handle this casual news.) When??”

“After y’all put me to bed.”

“Why didn’t you come get us?”

“Because there was a 5 on the clock.”

“Wait a minute. So you woke up at 5am, pulled out your own tooth, and then went back to sleep?”

“Yup.”

“Did it bleed??”

“No.”

Did it hurt??”

“No.”

“Where’s your tooth?”

“On my bedside table.”

“That’s amazing…”

“I know. So I’m going to leave the Tooth Fairy a note telling her to give me a hundred dollars.”

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….The kid has a top-notch brain, without a doubt.