Ride On, Part 2

Wouldn't you know it?! Roman, who looked too little to walk, too little to talk, then too little to have an opinion (all things he does now with particular gusto), today became the smallest looking person ever to ride a bike without training wheels.

Yup, here he is today, cruising the driveway after Anthony removed the shackles:

I'm especially impressed by his his multi-tasking abilities: riding sans training wheels while paying compliments to my footwear ("Mom, I like your shoes") and pointing out dings in our neighbor's truck. Nothing gets by that kid.

Sidelines

Before all of yesterday's action in the Kansas sky, we had some pretty impressive action on the ground.

First, Ben's soccer game was (incredibly) not cancelled, despite hair-tangling winds and looming storm clouds. And thank goodness, because I hate to think we'd have missed his two(!) goals and post-goal celebrations, in which he throws his arms in the air (below), then scans for Anthony on the sidelines and delivers a straight-armed thumbs up.

(Ben's in white, in the middle)

 

Also on the sidelines, Roman showed off his skills which Anthony assures me are, indeed, skills. Funny, but they remind me of my own "all sizzle, no steak" soccer method, which involved a lot of motion, but very little ball handling.

In other ground-based action (still waiting for the storm to hit), back at the house Roman was reading up a surprising storm, his fave: Green Eggs and Ham.

...all leading up to the actual storm, which hit late and fast on Saturday night. The boys were first frightened, then fascinated and then absolutely wiped out. Thankfully we stayed on the sidelines of the storm too, bypassed by tornadoes but doused with rain. Here, we hunker down as spectators to the tornado show, while the boys drift off.

Lowered Expectations

I'm not sure what has Roman feeling melancholy post-nap, but here are three guesses:

1. He accidentally succumbed to sleep during quiet reading time.
2. He picked a book with very few pictures and a lot of small type.
3. He just found out what he should have expected all these years.

(It's What to Expect the Toddler Years)

Case closed on what put him to sleep. But now I have my own mystery to solve: where has that book been all these years?!

Ride On

Ben made three proclamations yesterday, on his sixth birthday:

1. I'm not taking baths anymore, just showers.
2. Dad needs to take the training wheels off my bike.
3. (To Roman) God let me be born first so I'd be taller than you.

I was cool with #1 and terrified of #2. As for #3...well, it remains unaddressed, since I can neither confirm nor deny. I just keep my fingers crossed that they'll both grow taller than me.

So, back to #2. Ben hadn't even attempted a two-wheeler, so I was prepping my shoe-tying persistence pep talk...only replacing bunny ears with speed, gravity and concrete.

But off went the wheels, crossed went our fingers (again) and...would you believe?!

Our little six-year-old boy rode it like a pro! That is, a pro who only turns left, which I believe is a NASCAR driver. 

Here's a live action shot:

And, yes, Ben did eventually run into our neighbor's red truck. Nevertheless, we were amazed, Ben was thrilled and he ended a lengthy, lovely birthday celebration feeling like king of the sidewalk. In fact, I'll keep this short because he's waiting to ride again.

Grand Theft Marbles

Roman came home from pre-school with a pocket full of marbles today. Super cool, glittery marbles, unlike anything we own.

Uh oh.

"Are those ours?" I asked. After all, I have an A-plus grasp of our home's contents; Just ask Anthony, who receives an unwanted refrigerator inventory every time he opens its door.

So, Roman tried to pull one over on me ("Yeah, I got them in the upstairs closet," he said. Uh, is there a gift shop up there I'm not aware of?), but thankfully he's inherited my inability to pull off a whopper.

Oh, and I watch a lot of Law & Order so I'm a pretty skilled interrogator.

Fast forward through my "so very disappointed" speech, his crying and my secret crying, and we returned to pre-school where the wonderful Mrs. Wilson - trying to eat her own lunch - accepted them graciously, told Roman she still loves him, assured me privately that he's not the first marble thief (they are super cool), then sent us away on Spring Break.

So, a D-minus day for parenting, but I do think his punishment - returning to the scene of the crime - worked for now. I mean...does this look like the face of a felon?!

(Yes.)

Occupy Chick-fil-A?

This week marks the openings of Cabela's and Chick-fil-A here in Wichita. Big news folks. BIG. Highly anticipated stuff...by everyone but me.

No offense to Cabela's, of course; I'm simply more in- than outdoorsy. But, I'm hoping it'll lure some of my more adventurous friends here for a visit.

C-f-A, on the other hand, I could do without, since I'm not a fan of chicken. Or fried food. Or long lines. Or homophobes. (They heavily support Prop 8.)

My opinion aside, it's a fitting pair, since Cabela's no doubt sold some of these tents:

It's a little hard to make out, but that's Chick-fil-A (opening tomorrow, not today), with a parking lot full of temporary residents. It's Occupy Chick-fil-A, I guess, but the only protesting these folks are doing is against their Wednesday paychecks and Thursday digestive systems.

But it got me thinking:
1. What would be worth an overnight stay in a tent? Concert tickets? Cheap TVs? I can't think of a single thing, but maybe that's just my indoorsy side showing through.

I did once get up extra early and skip Race for the Cure (nice) for the opening of Super Target in Denver. But we called it "Race for the Super Target" and made a Komen donation, so it's cool, right? And it was during my 20s, so it shall be stricken from the record.

2. Would this happen at a gym? Two national chains are opening locations in town early next year. While I don't welcome the competition to Genesis and, frankly, can't believe there's demand for it (see above picture), I wonder, will it draw overnight visitors who can't wait to hop aboard a treadmill?

Oh, I can sure dream.

P.S. I wonder if these campers are aware: there's already a Chick-fil-A in town, about 4 miles from their campsite...

Sh*t My Kids Say

Can I cuss in this thing? Oh, maybe just this once...

See, we were practicing Ben's speech therapy exercises this morning, working on the ending "T" sound...you know, hat, fruit, boot, etc. He looks at the drawings and tells me the word, really emphasizing the final "Tuh..."

Easy, right?

Until this picture:

I could see Ben's little wheels turning. "Umm...shi...SHIT!" he announced.

And I can see his logic: clearly it's a picture of a ship, but since it's a T-ending exercise...well, shit it is! (Turns out boat was the correct answer.)

Anywho, it was another in a recent string of funny, shouldn't-laugh-but-I-can't-resist comments from the boys. A sampling:

• Roman: "My penises are bothering me."
• Roman: "Why is that girl in a truck? Girls don't drive trucks!"
• Ben: "You and Dad are twins."
• Roman: "My armpit hurts. Probably because it has a pit in it."
• Roman: "This car smells like popsicle sticks."

And, finally, the most abstract one: When I told Ben that salt is bad for his heart, he asked, "But then what happens to Jesus?" After a few rounds of "Huh?! Are we having the same conversation?" he explained, "But Mrs. Wiebe says Jesus is in our heart."

Aha!

Thank you, Catholic school, for teaching the things I cannot. And thank you in advance for your forgiveness when my kindergartner drops an inevitable shit bomb. He did, after all, get quite the laugh from me this morning, despite my best efforts to hold back.