Today's Happenings and Recent Conversations with Andrew

Today was supposed to be Andrew's first class at the Botanic Gardens in DC, but strife over outfits got us out the door too late to make it on time. Rather than get discouraged, I took heart that we had established a new rule ("Andrew can choose any outfit so long as it is clean, but dirty clothes cannot be worn.") and we opted for Plan B: Udvar Hazy Air and Space with friends. It gave me psychological strength that Andrew was wearing the blue track suit he has refused to put on his body since the purchase of the yellow one. It was better, in his mind, than wearing jeans and a sweater.

Udvar Hazy was a great success: fighter pilor simulator, Cessna piloting, racing around with other boys, the shark-faced WWII plane. It all ended with Andrew throwing a tear and scream filled tantrum because I would not buy him a space shuttle toy that cost $38. So we left, taking the long, snowy stomp path back to the car for Will's snow-smashing eager feet. Andrew was strapped in the stroller I brought for Will or tantrums, and coatless.

In the car on the way home: "Why did you say we were not going to go and then we left? Why did you say that?"

Me: remembering that I had told him we would look around in the bigger souvenier store before leaving, but then leaving directly when Andrew threw a tantrum, tells him like it was, "You threw a tantrum, so we had to leave."

Andrew: "I am ready now. I won't cry anymore."

Me, bracing for another bout of tears: "But we have already left. It is too late now."

Andrew, shockingly brightly: "I have a nice idea! How about we try again next time!"

Me: "Good idea."

Andrew: "Good thing Daddy makes so much money."

My dad watched the boys while I went to a very uneventful appointment. I returned to my parents' house to find all three of them in my parents' room watching cartoons. My dad and Will were under a blanket. Everyone had chocolate candy and a giant bowl of candy lay a foot away on the bed. Apparently Andrew had spotted the giant candy bowl on the shelf in their room, gotten a huge happy smile and raced to help himself. My dad instructed him to eat out of sight of Will, who then began loudly protesting, "Me! Me! Mine!" Andrew, who had initially hidden behind a sheer window dressing, was allowed to come out and eat Hersey's kisses on the bed. Will did the same. Who am I to judge? I fed the boys ice cream for breakfast for goodness sake. (Andrew also ate a tuna sandwich cut into footballs.) Calories. (Speaking of, I weight 10 pounds more than I did a year ago.)

My dad also told me that Andrew told him all about the toy that was "too expensive" and leaving the museum because he "cried and cried." Slowly and painfully, perhaps, Andrew is learning. Right? (please!)

We took Will to the pediatrician for the sole purpose of getting his tube reinserted. The nurse was unable to do it (and his poor sweet nose bled and continued to spot bleed for the rest of the evening), but the office is charging me for a visit anyway. It seems that if a mechanic cannot fix the brakes of my car, he wouldn't charge me. It is awkward to dispute these things with my care provider, however, so I will wait until I get a bill and then take it up with the office managers. It just does not seem right to charge me for something that was not accomplished. Nothing else was done, after all.

I recorded a few little things Andrew said yesterday and today about you or ice cream or both.

"Mommy, I just like eating ice cream for some reason." Yes, that was at breakfast.

"You knw what I think about when I go to school? You. And William."

"You know why I was putting ice cream on the floor yesterday?" (I have no idea what he is talking about, btw) "Because I wanted to feed daddy! I was pretending to feed daddy?" This was followed by hysterical laughter.

He has also been talking in his sleep and reporting dreams about monsters who are scary but then are scared of children. From Monsters Inc? He is asleep now, and if his closing bedtime story infilatrates his dreams, he is dreaming about a boy who refused to sleep until he had little strength or speed and was cranky and then turned things around by going to bed. And his mom was grateful. It is a very realistic dream.