Seriously. Pants that used to fit are falling off his butt. How did this happen? The little bugger got taller.

See, before he gets tall he packs away fat or something in his belly. He gets the cutest little round pot belly. Then, almost overnight, he shoots straight up and loses his pot belly. And when he loses his pot belly, his pants fall off. And he gets a six-pack. And you can see his ribs. He's been having fun stretching in the mirror while brushing his teeth to see his own ribs.

 

Maybe I should explain. When Ben gets ready for bed he starts by taking off his pants and his underpants. Sometimes he'll take off the rest of his clothes. Yesterday, he kept his shirt on. Today, he kept his socks on. So, now nearly naked, he begins the rest of his bedtime routine: picking out books to read and PJs to wear. Brushing and flossing his teeth. Putting away toys. All nearly naked. The boy likes a little freedom around his giblets. He just pulled all his tighty-whities from his drawer. He doesn't like the way briefs fit. He only likes the underpants "that go down my leg." Yup, we've raised a boxer-briefs boy...

Ben and I did what is rapidly becoming our regular routine for Wednesdays:

school (shortened day)

lunch and playdate with friend

gym

swim

home

 

Today we had a slight deviation from the plan. We brought Ben's friend Truman home with us. Ben and Tru wanted to play and Tru's sister wasn't feeling at all well so it worked out well all around. We got the car seats switched around; got the kids buckled in, turned the car on. Evanescence came on and we barely got thru the first opening chords before Truman asked, "Have you got any Dave Matthews?"

???

MAMA: Uh, no.

TRUMAN: What about Kelly Clarkson? My sister and mom really Kelly Clarkson.

MAMA: Well, yeah, I do have Kelly Clarkson.

 

And he kept going. Even after I got Kelly in the CD player. He told me about how he and his mom like Kelly. And then how his mom sings in the car. And how he likes Dave Matthews. And then I made the mistake of saying I didn't really like Dave Matthews and he went on (and on) about how he really liked him. And so did his dad. And his mom. AND his sister.

 

I turned up the volume.

 

By the way: Truman is FIVE! How many five-year-olds know enough about music to ask specifically for what they want?

 

 

 

...even if I get my tonsils out.

Ben said this to me yesterday.

We were reading Richard Scarry's What Do People Do All Day? (thank you Aunt Karen, for giving us the book after stealing my copy when I was a child!) One of the stories tells how Abby has to go to the hospital to get her tonsils out and while she's there her mother has a baby boy so Abby gets the very nice present of a baby brother for getting her tonsils out.

 

After reading this, Ben said to me, "I don't want a baby brother."

MAMA: Why?

BEN: Because they'll call me names. Like Alex's.

[Alex is Ben's best friend at school Alex has a younger sister who apparently called Ben a name when Ben played at Alex's last week.]

MAMA: Well, that happens sometimes.

BEN: And because they hit you. Like Max and Luke.

[Luke is Ben's best friend from our mommy group. Max is his little brother and is going thru a bit of a hitting phase. He's three. It happens.]

MAMA: Well, little brother's stop hitting when they get older.

BEN: I don't want a little sister either. I just want it to be me and you and Papa. Just the three of us.

 

He's just the sweetest boy ever!

We have a silent war going on in our house.

Every few days, Steve makes Ben's bed. As he does so, he removes an animal or two.

Every few days, Ben notices an animal or two is missing and grabs it from the top of the bookshelf and adds it back to his pile. (At current count: 1 Ben, 1 horse, 1 butterfly, 2 cats, 2 tiger cubs, 2 dogs, and 6 fuzzy cows for a total occupancy of 15 creatures in the bed.)

As of tonight, Steve is winning. The top of the bookshelf contains 2 dogs, 1 horse, and 1 fuzzy cow. We'll see how long that lasts...

 

Last week Ben and I had oatmeal for breakfast. Yum.

For three days last week, Ben was extra farty. Farty all day farty.

On the third day, Ben came home and said, "I've been farting a lot at school. But the other kids aren't laughing at me yet."

Ouch.

On the fourth day, Ben didn't fart. Weird.

And on the fifth day, he didn't fart again.

What was the difference? Well on the first three days I made oatmeal with milk. And on the fourth and fifth days? I used water.

Ben might just be lactose intolerant.

Only way to really find out would be to give him oatmeal cooked in milk again and see if the farts come back.

Like I want that to happen.

We'll avoid the milk for now and see what happens. Or doesn't happen as the case may be.

Ben is in kindergarten now. He knows he'll go to 1st grade next year. And second grade after that. And all the way up to 12th grade. This is what Ben has told us several times regarding the fact that when he turns six he'll be in first grade:

 

I wish that when you were one year old you were in first grade

and when you were two years old you were in second grade

and when you were three years old you were in third grade

and when you were four years old you were in fourth grade

and when you were five years old you were in fifth grade

and when you were six years old you were in sixth grade

and when you were seven years old you were in seventh grade

and when you were eight years old you were in eighth grade

and when you were nine years old you were in ninth grade

and when you were ten years old you were in tenth grade

and when you were eleven years old you were in eleventh grade

and when you were twelve years old you were in twelvth grade.

 

All of it. Ben says all of it. And if you interrupt him in the middle, he will start over at the very beginning and repeat the entire thing.