go out, go skate

1.4.09: go out
already playing catch up, gotta take a pic of Simon and I tomorrow. We went on a date while Daddy and Felix took a nap. Applebee's and Kay-bee Toys. Fun stuff.

A funny Simon story: While on our date, he took pity on me. He finally felt the baby move for the first time! Usually he's moving around or being loud and can't feel the actual kick. Yesterday he did. And when he removed his hand he got this look of concern on his face and said, "You know how you lose weight, Mommy?" He said it all whispery like he didn't want anybody else to hear. "How...Simon?" I asked, trying not to be offended. "You have to excercise. You have to do sit-ups and push-ups." He said urgently, with motivating tones. "It's not me that's fat. It's the baby inside. I won't get skinny again until he get's out." I tried to pacify.

I moved the conversation along.



1.5.09: go skate Or maybe go try to skate. Not seeing hockey in this kids future. The rest of his "class" is that large group. Simon is about 6 inches off the wall, refusing to move. :)

And one more Simon story from today. The post on my regular blog is already way too long, so I'll stick it here. After our skating fiasco, I felt really bad for Simon. The rest of the day, I've been trying to reassure him that I'm proud that he tried. I was laying on my bed and I called him in for a hug and we were just kinda talking. He asked me{ a pretty regular ? since finding out #3 is a boy}, "Mommy, would you rather have 10 girls or three boys?"

"I'd rather have three boys, b/c that's what I already have."

"Boys just don't like girls."

"Boys like girls, they just don't like girly things." I said

"Yeah, like rainbows and...what's that movie with the princess and the lion? and girl tattoos. Mommy, I know why Julie wants to be my friend."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because she's in love with me."

"Oh. And what does that mean?"

"It means we're getting married."

"Well, you're a little young to be getting married. Plus, you have to have a job first."

"Okay. I'll wait until I'm 16."

Usually his coming of age stories are 22. "Will you trust me to drive when I'm 22?"
"Can Felix and I go out to dinner by ourselves when I'm 22?"
"Will you trust me to drive the van with "baby" when I'm 22? I'll make sure I buckle his car seat."

I realize these stories aren't as entertaining to everyone else, but I just want to remember what we talk about these days.