Ben's grandma sent him a growth chart. Big ole fabric growth chart with dots for each inch. Nice encouraging words aligned with all the dots. His name embroidered on the top.

 

I kind of wish she hadn't.

 

Now we can truly see how quickly Ben is growing.

 

It's terrifying.

 

I measured him last night when I noticed he not only was wearing highwaters but his favorite sweat shirt (with hood and kangaroo pocket) didn't come down to cover his wrists.

 

Between July and December, he put on 1 1/2 inches. That's 6 months.

 

Between December and March, he grew another full inch. That's 3 months.

 

Ben's outgrown clothes and shoes go to his peers. And those clothes don't fit his peers. His clothes sometimes even go to kids older than he is. And they still don't fit.

 

At this rate, Ben's going to grow to be 6' 7" and actually have a chance for that $90 million Nike sponsorship we've been joking about since before he was born.

 

At this rate, I'm going to have to start the "Clothe Benjamin" fund to raise money to buy him a new set of pants and shirts every three to six months. And I shop for his stuff at Target because I can't see buying him more expensive stuff because he's never outworn anything before he's outgrown it.

 

At least his shoes still fit.

 

For now....

Begin Brag.

 

Ben can count to 131. He needs a little help with the teens but he can do it.

He can recognize and read most numbers he sees, including numbers in the hundreds.

Ben really likes numbers.

 

End Brag.

It's woodpecker mating season again.

 

Apparently lady woodpeckers like a male who can peck the loudest. Male woodpeckers, knowing this, have tired of pecking trees. That isn't nearly as loud as, say, the metal flashing around my chimney.

 

Yesterday, as Ben was supposed to be napping, one of the little peckers hammered a sharp, metallic, gun-shot-reverberating rat-a-tat-tat on our chimney. While I'm sure it was loud outside, the sound was amplified in the house by the hallow echo the chimney flue added to the quick banging.

 

Clearly, Ben wasn't going to sleep through that. I could barely think through that.

 

Today, the pecker is banging on my neighbor's chimney.

 

Thank goodness for small favors.

Ben and I ran into the Sammamish fire fighters at the Safeway today. We always see the fire truck in the Safeway parking lot. I mean always. Pretty much every weekend and at least once a week during the week. Sometimes they are getting Starbuck's. Sometimes they are getting salad for dinner. Sometimes I imagine they're even working.

 

Well, today, the fire fighters were still with their truck when we walked up to it (we always have to get closer to any firetruck or aid car in the parking lot, even if we just drive by it on the way home). One of them asked Ben what to call in case of an emergency.

 

Ben promptly responded, "911."

 

Which got me to wondering: does he know what an "emergency" is? So we started a new game.

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if your house was on fire?

BEN: [nod]

MAMA: Would you... call 911 if Luke stole one of your toys?

BEN: Noooo! We'd go get it!

MAMA: Would you... call 911 if a burgler were in your house?

BEN: No! Call the police!

 

Oops. So we talked about how 911 works (a dispatcher answers and sends the right people over to your emergency). And then more emergency questions. Ben really liked this game, by the way. He started creating his own emergencies...

 

BEN: Would you call 911 if a bad guy ran into the store?

MAMA: Yup. But what does a bad guy look like?

BEN: I dunno.

MAMA: What if he had a gun? Would you call then?

BEN: Yes!

MAMA: What if you saw a policeman with a gun? Would you call 911?

BEN: No!

MAMA: What if you saw a soldier? You'd know he was a soldier because he'd be wearing his camoflauge and have a badge with his name on it.

BEN: No!

MAMA: What if you saw someone wearing jeans and a baseball cap carrying a gun. Would you call 911 then?

BEN: Yes! But I wouldn't call if he had a baseball bat and he was a baseball player and he was just going to a baseball game.

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if a grown-up asked you to?

BEN: No!

So we talked about that (yes, you should).

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if a man grabbed his chest and fell to the ground?

BEN: No!

So we talked about heart attacks.

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if your neighbor's house was on fire?

BEN: No! They can do it themselves!

So we talked about how they might not be able to do it themselves or how they might not know they're house is on fire.

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if I burned dinner?

BEN: Yes!

So we talked about how "burned" does not equal "on fire" and there was no reason to call 911.

 

MAMA: Would you call 911 if I started a fire in the kitchen?

BEN: No! Oh, wait, Yes!

So we talked about how if it was a small fire that I could put out with my handy-dandy fire extinguisher, we didn't need to call 911 but if the fire were big enough we would.

 

So, I'm just saying. Don't assume your kid knows what an emergency is just because he knows to call 911. Or that he knows what a bad guy is. Or that he even understands 911 gets the fire department and the police and the ambulance.

 

It's a fun game. Especially when you want your child to be prepared without scaring the pants off them.

 

But you may not want to play it at the grocery store. People give you really strange looks when they overhear your conversation.

 

We woke up at 7:00 today.

 

All of us. Scout. Pixel. Steve. Ben. Me.

 

That's unheard of in the entire history of the Serdy family. Steve always wakes up at 6:00. The cats always wake up about two hours earlier to walk on Steve and meow at Steve and breathe on Steve and run around the house yowling if Steve ignores them and plays asleep.

 

Ben always wakes up when he sees the 6 on his clock. Often, he's in our room at 6:03 fully dressed.

 

And today we all slept in. One could argue that it was because of the time change on Sunday. But we all went to bed at the new time rather than sticking with what it felt like.

 

Guess we all just needed an extra hour of sleep.

 

Cats included.

The blog has been lacking in activity. But this time, it wasn't because I was lazy.

It's because I was out of the country.

Well, Steve, Ben and I were out of the country.

 

About two weeks ago, we hopped a plane (well, two planes, actually) and fled the rainy, windy, wacky winter weather we've been having. (Nice alliteration, eh?) We went to Grand Cayman. Ah, Grand Cayman.

 

I already miss it.

 

We went with Grandma and Grandpa. Basically, we made them work the entire week we were down there.

 

Our typical day: we all met in the outdoor restaurant overlooking the pool and ocean for breakfast around 7:00. We all ordered, then went and played till breakfast showed up. Ben threw large chunks of coral in the ocean; Steve got his rebreather ready; I gathered up my stuff in a bag and loaded it onto the truck. We ate breakfast. At 8:00, Steve and I put the rest of our stuff on the truck and then boarded the bus for the dive boat. Ben, Grandma, and Grandpa watched TV till 9:00.

 

They watched TV because if they didn't, Ben would be in the pool in about 3.4 minutes (or as long as it took him to run upstairs to our room and change into his swim suit). Once the clock hit 9:00, Ben ran to the pool. Near as I could figure it, Grandma and Grandpa took turns being in the pool with him while he splashed, did cannonballs, jumped, swam after torpedoes, the works. Around 11:00, they went inside to get out of the sun, eat a snack, and wait for us.

 

We went diving. Our bus dropped us off at the dock. We boarded the boat. Got our gear ready. Put on our wetsuits. Listened to a dive briefing and then jumped into the water. Ah... We dove twice off the boat (back to the resort by lunchtime.) We saw walls and reefs. Parrotfish and porcupinefish. Gray angelfish and French angelfish. Turtles. Lots and lots of turtles. We even saw a nurse shark. Amazing visibility. Cold-ish waters. Rough seas. I got a helluva collection of bruises on my legs from crashing into the boat ladder while climbing out. Surprisingly, I was one of the best divers on the boat. Certainly the second-most experienced. We dove with lots of folks who just got certified. Didn't bother us, tho. We just swam in front or behind them. We were pretty much the first people off the boat and the last people on the boat. Great diving.

 

After our second dive, we hopped on our bus and hitched a ride back to the resort. Just in time for lunch. Usually, a few minutes before lunch so we could rinse our gear before eating with the rest of the family. Lunch, then nap. Twice Steve and I took off for an afternoon shore dive while Grandma waited for Ben to wake up.

 

Afternoons, we swam. Steve and I played in the pool with Ben while Grandma and Grandpa alternated between resting in the shade and playing in the pool with us.

 

Sometimes we took breaks from all that swimming to throw coral off the docks. We ended up with quite a pile down there. We started calling it "Benjamin's Reef." Shortly after that, the resort staff started calling it "Benjamin's Reef."

 

Dinner at 7:00. Bedtime immediately following. One of the greatest things about this resort is that we could order our food and then run around the resort and play while we waited for it to cook.

 

The staff, by the way, loved Ben. And I mean LOVED. The chef worked hard to make Ben meals that he'd eat; things that weren't even on the menu. The wait staff started chasing him around. One gal picked him up and threatened to throw him in the pool while he squealed and laughed. Ari, the resort owner, drove us to the turtle farm, bought Ben some pool toys, found Ben some sand toys, gave Ben a squeaky turtle when he picked us up from the turtle farm, gave Ben a turtle keychain and a spare for Ben's best friend. 

 

Ben made friends with Mojo the dog and Ginger the cat. We made friends with a few of the other divers. (We've promised them pictures.)

 

Steve sunburned the tops of his ears. I sunburned my nose. Ben sunburned the apples of his cheeks (the skin right below his eyes). All sunburns lasted just a day. (I brought aloe.) Steve's ears peeled. No one else peeled.

 

Ben is a great traveler. He was fantastic on the plane. In the airports. Through customs. Several people on the plane commented that he was a great traveler (I suspect they were expecting temper tantrums, seat kicking, and stuff like that). A couple from Louisana and Texas told us that we were great parents and that Ben was a great kid and that good discipline shows. I just preened. He never had a temper tantrum at the resort. Never lost it on the plane. Never lost it in the airports. Listened well. Truly great traveler.

 

And I can't wait till we can go again.

 

Pictures to come as Steve narrows down the 400 or so he took underwater to just a few to post here.