“Tofu… the Proud… the Micronaxx!”
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Headless Henry
From the other room I heard a voice announce, “I have no head! It’s lost in a basket.” What with Finn’s recent interest in decapitation, I was a tad nervous. Upon investigating, this is what I found. 🙂
Carving pumpkins just wasn’t at the top of my & Margot’s to-do lists this year, but Finn could hardly have been more interested. He kept brining up the subject, even grumping loudly that we were trying to get off the hook for doing it. Last night he was in a fog following a long car ride, but when Mom-O said we could do some carving, he immediately re-energized & ran to get his smock.
Here’s the amazing part: A kid who, to my chagrin, can barely draw a straight line walked right up to his pumpkin, grabbed a marker, and drew a perfect, complex eye (a circle with a pupil mounted on one side). Oh man, I thought, he’s gonna get good at drawing after all!! Ah, but pride goeth: right afterwards he said “Now I’m gonna draw a second eye!,” then drew a tiny circle, after which he rendered the “nose” as a series of abstract lines. But still… it’s a start & I’ll take it!
Here are just a few pics:
The boys had a ball joining a phalanx of little pals in picking apples & running around Moss Landing yesterday. Here’s a little gallery, which for fun you can compare to last year’s somewhat drier outing to the same orchard. (Henry looks so much older now!)
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“J’Accuse!”: Honey Badger Edition
Man, were little Henry’s patience & self-control put to the test on Sunday. Birthday girl Charlotte’s parents had laid out a beautiful spread of cupcakes & other sweets just at eye level for wandering tots. Again & again Henry would walk past the table, cast a covetous eye, and ask, “Mom-O, Dad-O, is it time for cupcakes now??” To his credit, though, he restrained himself for several hours while other birthday activities unfolded.
Until, that is, he saw little Hazel Wiggin (aka the fierce Honey Badger) giving herself a mustache & wisdom spot with a cupcake. The Wiggins needed to head out early, so Hazel got to enjoy a cupcake early. I captured G-Man’s response to catching her red- (er, white-)handed. 🙂
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Whoopie Cushion Adventures
Because, you know, our little sons were insufficiently interested in bodily functions… ;-p
This all transpired at little Charlotte Henshall’s 4th birthday party yesterday. Finny observed, “Look, Dad-O, there’s a picture of a geyser on the bag!”
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Riding the Lunapillar
We had a ball taking the lads to the Take Flight for Kids shindig a tiny nearby airport today. Amidst all the bouncy-house horseplay & “Angry Tiger” launching (think Angry Birds, but with stuffed tigers in a real slingshot), one highlight was riding on “mutant vehicle” The Lunapillar:Â
As in, “Ladies Love Cool Finnegan.” 🙂
On Friday preschool pals Magdalena & “Cosita” decided it was time to sandwich-hug our big guy. This shot happened to catch the moment as he transitioned from good-natured smile to fixing me with a gaze of “Get me out of here, Dad-O!”
- Español:
- Breathless Finn runs in sounding like he’s cracked the secret to cold fusion: “Dad-O, there’s even a Spanish word for ‘Spanish’! It’s ‘Spañol!”
- “El cerdo!” says Finn out of the blue.
“Yeah, and what’s el cerdo?” I ask.
“A pig who speaks Spanish!” - Finn wonders about our friend’s “Ram jeep.” “What’s a ‘Durango’? Maybe it means ‘ram’ in Spanish.”
- Gluteus Minimus:
- Lego time spontaneously turns political: “Dad-O, this is Obama. ‘Come here, Romney, gimme your butt cheeks to kick!'” (Unprompted by me!)
- “Dad-O, what was that shadow?” asks Henry. “Well, was it itching its butt?” asks Finn. “‘Cause then it was me.”
- “Henry!!” yells Finn. “If you don’t stop that, I’ll kick your butt! [pause] Dad-O, kick his butt!!” (I’m just hired muscle.)
- Questionable parenting:
- I probably shouldn’t have told Finn to “get out of my junk.” He now lowers his head & runs yelling, “I’m aiming for your *junk*!!”
- I confront stick-wielding Finn: “Were you aiming for my head??” “No,” he says sheepishly. “I was aiming for your crotch.” (That’s not better!)
Every man must face his fears—and for a small man hair-washing is a big one. We’ve been bribing Henry to stay cool & calm for quite some time now, sometimes with mixed results. The other day we plied him with a couple of blue M&Ms. He was delighted to get them—so much so that he held onto them a bit long, smearing his face & chest like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Behold:
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Watch out for flying Whittle Boards
The other night during T.A.L.B., Finn reminded me that we like our stories to involve policemen rappelling down from helicopters. “Can we talk about the whittle boards?” he asked. I was kind of baffled, and he attempted to clarify: “Yeah, you know, whittle boards. Whittle boards, like this!” and began flapping his wings. Ah, Little Birds! He said, “Now every time I want to hear about whittle boards, I’ll just flap like this!” You’ve got a deal, son. 🙂
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Extreme Makeover: G-Man Edition
Henry Nack: *Not* a fan of having his head fooled with. He’s a pain at hair-washing time, and he can put up a real stink at the barber shop. Yesterday he was in rare (as in, terrible) form there, but behold the transformative power of a lollipop! Can you believe this is the same kid, in photos separated by no more than 10 minutes?
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*Now* it’s a party
Oh, y’know, just a typical Friday night with party man Hen… 🙂
Finny is our chitty-chatty, super-verbal guy. He loves narrating the adventures of his vehicles and toys, and he’s always happy to meet new folks and fill them in on the important details of his life…like “Hi, I’m Finny. And this is my brother Henry. I’m four, and he’s three. My favorite colors are red, yellow, green, silver, and orange…”
The noticeable thing about all this chatter is that Finny’s always had a hard time correctly pronouncing his R’s. They come out very soft – often sounding like W’s, which is totally common among kids under 5. We’re so used to it, we don’t even really hear it when he says things like “Henwy” or “cahws” (cars). Of course other folks do, which has made us wonder if it’s something that will resolve itself or if we’ll need to take him to speech therapy to get it sorted out.
The great news is, I think he’s sorting it out for himself. And I think going to bilingual Spanish preschool, with all its rolling R’s, has really helped his pronunciation! In the past few weeks, I have noticed more and more hard R’s creeping into his words. He’s actually working so hard he over-pronounces them, and the R’s are comically noticeable since he’s really growling out those R’s! CaRRRRs, HenREE, cARRRpet, TRiscuits, and so on.
I’m sure at some point, the new correctly-pronounced R’s will sound totally normal, but for now, it sounds so unfamiliar to my ear, it’s like listening to someone with a British accent try to sound American!
[Great post, hon. I think it’s time we got Finny his very own keyboard, don’t you? See below.
— Love, Dad-O-in-Seattle (who enjoys getting corrected on his Spanish pronunciation by El Finnstero. 🙂 ) –J.]
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Lego Readers
The lads seriously enjoy reading the Lego-themed books that Grandma Nack has been sending their way. (In fact, they frequently go around in their “Lego crook” identities of “Hank” & “Butch,” making as sinister & raspy a laugh as the under-5 set can.) Check ’em out:
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Questionable Etymologies
The funky tandem stroller we bought from our friends the Wiggii often draws questions from parents at the park. Today was no exception, and today Finn overheard that the stroller was made by the company “Phil & Teds.” Apparently he thinks it’s a very influential bunch:
“Dad-O, did you name Uncle Ted after Phil & Ted?”
“Er, no, buddy,” I said, “we named him after my Uncle Ted. You know, he was a policeman in Chicago.”
“Oh.” After a minute or so went by, he followed up: “Was the policeman named after Phil & Ted?”
I politely explained that I don’t think the stroller company was that big a deal in the 1930’s. 🙂
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A Controversial Kepi
Apropos of nothing, Happy Friday. 🙂
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“I love you, Sandwich”
Back in Leadville this summer, I watched our delighted boys bury their cousin Patrick in pillows, turning him into a “sandwich.” I typed away as the guys played, thinking I’d flesh out these bare notes, but somehow I never got around to posting the photos or story. Now I’m left with just a few semi-random bits plus a rather fun gallery of pics. Enjoy. 🙂
“Revenge of the Sandwich”
“Watch this, people!!”
Watch out for the boney feet
Fried Finny
BBQ sauce truck (Trasher); blood truck (?)
- Li’l gasbag Henry is making excuses: “I have allergies, Dad-O. That’s why I keep farting on you.”
- Vehicular:
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- I attempt to explain mid-engine vs. rear-engine cars to Finn. Eyeing a Porsche 911 he says, “So, it’s got room for kids??” Don’t get your hopes up, lad!
- I’m trying to convince Henry that the big red-brown thing the Shuttle drops (its external fuel tank) is not, in fact, a turd. (Seems he’s not buying it.)
- Our impatient boys are miffed: “Dad-O, preschool never teaches us how to drive real cars!!” I say there’s time. “But when–kindergarten!?”
- The 400 Blows:
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- Pool-nudist Finn doesn’t appreciate my playful swatting. “Hey, this isn’t a butt-cheek fiesta!” he scolds.
- “Dad-O, can we play?” asks Finn, contemplating a toy hammer. Then he smiles: “Could we maybe decapitate Henry?”
- “We’re Irishmen,” the boys announce out of the blue, “named Gerry & Mike.” Er, okay… #GoIrish!
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Highlanders
Last weekend we took the boys to the annual Scottish Highland Gathering and Games in Pleasanton, so they could witness the majesty of strong men in kilts, bagpiping, sheep dog trials, “hairy coos”, and haggis. We all had a ball.
As you’ll see from the gallery, there was a lot going on. In addition to the “oreo” cows, we got to see birds of prey like Kayleigh and (li’l) Bob the owls. Kayleigh was an enormous Asian hunting owl, while Bob was just a wee screech owl. We watched the sheep dog trials and met the sheep, and saw some beautiful antique British racing cars, one of which looked very much like Sir Topham Hatt’s. There was also a kids’ area with games and face painting. The lads even got to practice the art of pitching toy sheep stomachs (haggis vessels) into a cauldron!
Everyone was especially enthusiastic about the caber toss, which features enormous, strapping, kilt-clad lads and lasses hoisting what’s essentially a telephone pole up-and-end-over-end before it hits the ground with a loud “thunk!”. Needless to say, the guys wanted to practice their own caber-tossing skills at home with an appropriately sized prop, an aluminum extendable paint-roller pole.
After all that fun, combined with gorging on carnival food and ice cream, the guys completely crashed in the car on the way home. I thought Finny might never wake up!