The Simple Life

Today, Hayes was trying hard to convince me of his big boy status. What prompted him to do so was the fact that our heads were almost the exact same height when he stood next to me on the bed. Of course, the difference is that my feet were on the ground and his were not. When I tried to explain this would not happen if he were standing on the floor because he is only three, he switched strategies and said that he IS big because he's almost four.

Since there was no point in reasoning with him any further, I considered the conversation closed. But he began to explain to me that soon he will be four and then he will be five and then six and then seven (he stopped at thirteen), insinuating that he is big now, but he will get bigger and bigger as time goes on.

That's when I became nostalgic by the thought that my three year old will never be three years old again. He will, in fact, only get bigger and bigger and things more and more complicated. And I'll miss these simple days.

So I told him that when he turns four, I will miss him. And he told me that he will miss me too.

When his father walked into the room, Hayes told him he will miss him too.

Not knowing what conversation he had walked into, his father assured him that he would be missed too.

Then all of a sudden Hayes began to cry. And it wasn't just a little cry. He cried a sad, deep, belly cry with big crocodile tears.

His father and I were totally confused. When we asked him why the tears Hayes told us that he didn't want to turn four.

And that's when I knew for sure that things will never be as simple as they are right now.

Deep

I'm not one of those moms who thinks my child is a genius. However, I can say with all seriousness that he is more than just a little deep to be only three years old.

This morning, while shoving spoonfuls of cereal and milk into his mouth, and missing most of the time, he asked me what I want to be when I grow up. And I must admit, the question really got me thinking. I told him that I want to be a homeowner and an early retiree. Of course, he accepted this response without any further explanation because he's three and, clearly, not a genius.

But all day today, while I biked to work and home again, settled into my work-from-home projects, walked to pick Hayes up from school, enjoyed watching him take Karate class, spent the evening with close friends, went to a dance class, came home for dinner, and settled us in for the night, I thought that in many ways, I am the person I always wanted to be when I grow up. My life is personally satisfying in a lot of ways. But still, there is more to see and do. And I suppose there always will be.

So, did a three year old just make me realize that I still have a lot of growing up to do?

Deeeeeep!

Cali x NYC

If you're in NYC next weekend, Hustlenomics will be too! Mark it on the calendar and be ready for a hella good time!

Happy Election Day, America!

OK, I tried to stay away from the topic but I just can't resist. Today is a big day, no matter how you cast your vote.

Hayes will be pulling the lever today after school at Brownstone Books. (I'll let you know who he decides to vote for--tee-hee)!

Speak No More Evil

A weird thing happens when you have a child. All of a sudden you must watch what you say. I've heard it a thousand times but I never actually do it because, truth be told, I'm not a potty mouth. But it wasn't until recently when Hayes told me, in a very unconcerned way, that he thought I was going to kill myself that it really sank in.

I admit, he got the words from me--not because I am at all suicidal, or have ever been. But because whenever I do something disastrous and normal like trip over one of Hayes's toys and almost fall flat on my behind, I often say things like, "Oh my god, I'm going to kill myself!" It rolls of my tongue just as easily as "please" and "thank you." I've never considered it odd or inappropriate, it's just the way I talk. And Hayes hears me speak that way all the time. So, just like a three year old who does not yet understand the intricacies of language and expression, he repeats it like it's totally normal. And it is. But it's so not. Besides that, those words, coming from a small child, are frightening.

I'm just glad he said it behind closed doors first. It gives me time to correct my mistake before he goes blabbing about his pseudo-suicidal mommy to everyone out in the world.

Kids or Curry?

Stacey and I are proof that three-year-olds aren't the only ones who can be easily distracted, obsessive and totally selfish. We can too!

For about a week, the plan has been to celebrate Stacey's new job, that now allows her a more flexible schedule, by taking the boys out for an exciting, new adventure today. We were hoping for a cool outside activity, but the damp weather spoiled those plans early.

So by the time we picked the boys up from school, we had settled on an old, familiar inside activity instead. It was sure to be a good time. But I couldn't stop thinking about food. Random, I know. But I was totally obsessed by the thought of sitting down to a table full of food that I didn't cook to feast on, uninterrupted, until I was completely satisfied. And since Stacey is always open to the power of persuasion, and is as easily distracted as I am, it didn't take long before she was co-signing the idea.

So, like the self-absorbed mama I am--and that Stacey is working on becoming, we ditched our plans with the kids (actually, we ditched the kids altogether) and went out for Indian. But like the famished and tired mamas we are, we sat across the table from one another in near silence scarfing down the alu motor gobi and vegetable curry dishes we ordered.

In the end, we agreed the time spent in hedonistic hush was a refreshing change from spending another hectic evening out with the kids.

Much Ado About Bugs

No doubt, one of the cooler things about being a blogger is getting free stuff in the mail. Well, recently, the good people at Lifeway Organic sent Hayes a package of Probugs Organic Soy Kefir. This was after a package of the whole milk snack pack arrived just the day before. But, of course, since Hayes is vegan, the whole milk pack went to his good friend Kimani. This was a perfect gift for Kimani because Lifeway is convinced that Probugs is liked by even the pickiest eaters. And Kimani, as much as we love him, is the pickiest eater there is.

A few days later, Kimani's mom announced that he had tried it, hated it and didn't want to touch it again. So, I rest my case. Hayes, in typical fashion, loved it. (Though I'm not completely sure that the soy milk drink is actually vegan since the label says it contains soy and milk).

So, since I am very easily amused, I decided to sit Hayes and Kimani down to ask them a few important questions about their very different Probugs experience. Here's the official interview, complete with my thoughts:

Me: So, what did the Probugs drink taste like, guys?

Hayes: It tasted like summer and it had a little fire, but it was sweet. (Interesting).

Kimani: I didn't like it. And then I did. And then I tried it. And then it was my favorite thing. (Promising).

Me: And would you like to drink Probugs again?

Hayes: Yeah! (Cool).

Kimani: Yeah! (Really cool).

Me: Do you think the Probugs was good for your body?

Hayes: It was just crawling through me. (Huh)?

Kimani: It was good. But then I didn't like it. (What)?

Clearly, the not-so-cool thing about being a blogger is trying to craft a solid story out of an interview with a couple of very silly three year olds.

But on the other hand, maybe Lifeway is totally right about Probugs. Maybe.