The Pickle has been under the weather the past few days, which has unfortunately only reinforced that it’s good to be sick. With all the juice he can drink, a later bed time (because he now sleeps so much during the day), and popsicles he’s still having a bit of a rough day today.
So rough, in fact, that spilling the popsicles from the freezer resulted in this outburst:
“DANG IT! This is not my day! I need a drink! Momma, will you get me some milk? In a cup. With a lid. And screw it on TIGHT because else it will spill and I can NOT handle any more messes today!”
I do not know where he got that it’s okay to get a drink after a rough day, but on that note it is happy hour down the street, so I’m off!
The Pickle: “I want to catch Santa. And tell him I’ve been good this year. And give him kisses so he’ll give me PRESENTS! But not lick him, just give him smooches.”
A few gems from the Pickle
“Momma, I have to go potty.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Well, first you need to change me, because it’s too late.”
Later, on lunch:
“Lellow cheese makes me angry. I only like white cheese. So if you give me cheese, it better be WHITE.” (White there was said with a yell and a growl)
So I may have been playing a video game when the Pickle walked in and looked at the TV.
“Daddy! Do NOT shoot them! Talk to them! So try to talk to them! Nicely!
“Momma, I want to talk about my birday.”
“Okay, when you turn three?”
“Okay, sure. I want Legos. Chima and some Ninjago. And Cupcakes. And those orange things from TV day.”
“The Superbowl? Cheetos?”
“Yes, them. And that thing that you hit with sticks to make candy come out.”
“Sure. I want all dat.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday.”
“Okay. Tomorrow is good.”
“For my birday.”
“Your birthday is not tomorrow, it’s in July.”
“Shhhhh, momma, tomorrow’s good!”
So I was trying to distract the Gremlin the other night, and asked him if he wanted to play Skip-Bo. The Gremlin declined, but the Pickle jumped at the chance. Thinking I was playing a card game against a two-year old, I set up a quick game and expected it to be a lot of “turn the card over and say yay”.
And then the Pickle beat me. At Skip-Bo. This came with the realization that he can count up to 12 as he expertly navigated questions along the lines of “what comes after five” and “what’s next”? I think he may be even more intelligent than his brother…
On a lighter note, he returned from the park the other day and his conversation with his mother went thusly:
“Hi mumma! I back from da park!”
“Did you have fun?”
“What did you do?”
“Oh, I played a game wit daddy and brudder. It was so much fun! Den I was freaking out.”
“You were freaking out? About what?”
“Oh mumma, I don’t know!”
For posterity, we brought a ball to the park. The Pickle left to go try out his balance bike, and the Gremlin and myself started playing catch. The Pickle saw this and decided he wanted to play Throw The Ball Anywhere Else (where he turns away from anyone playing the original game and throws/kicks the ball as far away as he can), and was very upset that we continued to tell him he needed to play our game or go back to his balance bike.
After instituting a bedtime ritual for the Pickle involving reading time every night, we read books. One of these books may or may not happen to be Sandra Boynton’s Personal Penguin. This book seems to have resonated with the Pickle. At the zoo today, the Pickle approached the Gremlin.
“Brudder, I want to be your personal Pickle.” He walked up to his brother and held out his arms.
“Look at these arms, so perfect to hug you!” He stopped and looked at his brother, then took a few more steps up to him.
“I going to hug you now, brudder.”
The other day the Pickle declared he was not a brother: “I not a brubber! I Pipple!”
He also now does his “ninja dance” which consists of him saying “hee-yah”, running five feet, and jumping up in the air, and slamming down with as much force as he can. If we ask him not to do ninja moves, he says ‘okay’ and then when we try and talk to him about it again claims to have been ‘dancing.’
I’m not saying the Gremlin is ridiculously brilliant, or that he’s highly intelligent, or that he’s super-smart, or anything, but it’s funny when you’re able to show that on-demand, and especially when he’s able to do this in his school. The Gremlin, being in first grade, has word cards every week. These are also called “sight words” that come in lists of 100 (0-1000) that each student goes through. When a sight word is shown on a flash card, the first-grader then has about five seconds to come up with the word. The Gremlin, when shown these cards, has a perfect record. Literally, he went through all 1,000 cards. In two sittings (each about 5 minutes at school).
After he went through all 1,000 words (for comparison, the first grade requirement is to know the first 100 words by the end of the year), the teacher requested we create words for him from what we read at home. After reading Horton’s Miraculous Mechanisms and adding words like (emphasis on like here – they were different, as the father in Horton’s uses words like) perambulator and prestidigitation to his word list were… again too easy. So the teacher changed it to spelling.
We asked the Gremlin this today and he said:
“Oh! It’s so easy! They GIVE you the word! You don’t even have to guess!”
“So what was the last word you spelled today?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it was either molecule or decimal. I wasn’t really paying attention.” (these were the exact words)
First grade. His spelling homework, the ‘challenge’ words for the rest of his class are true and false.
Getting a new bunk bed for the Pickle has been an interesting adaptation. He hasn’t yet figured out he can get up whenever he wants, but the MOTP and I are okay with that. The other interesting thing is that everyone now has easy access to the Pickle when he’s asleep on the bottom bunk.
We sent the Gremlin to bed a few nights ago, and when we went in to tuck him in we found him laying in the bottom bunk cuddling his brother saying, “Oh, Pickle. I love you. You’re really are the cutest little Pickle and I love you so much.”
He looked up at us and said, “Yeah, I love him. I think we can keep him.”