Snippets from Lincoln

February 1, 2011: Lincoln woke this morning at 6:30am with his normal serenade of the "Mama Song". (The "Mama Song" is something he has been singing ever since I can remember and it generally involves lots of voice modulation while singing to his own beat the single word, mama, over and over again.) In an effort to keep Berkeley asleep, I quickly went and got him, and brought Lincoln into bed to cuddle me with. Lincoln was really restless and kept asking me if it was wake up time yet. I was in denial and told him to cuddle and let's just sleep a little bit more. With Lincoln nestled next to me, he says, “I smell something.” I said, oh, it is probably my sleep breath. He paused – they he said, “why you not brush your teeth?” “You are always supposed to brush your teeth mama.” “It is something to do every day.” I couldn't help but laugh. Lincoln has clearly been listening to me each night, when despite his initial refusal, he allows me to assist with brushing his teeth, because "it is something we do everyday."

January 30, 2011: Lincoln and his friend, Dale were sitting at the kitchen table having dinner. I had prepared chicken, baked french fries and tater tots, strawberries, and blueberries. They were both happily eating and taking turns making each other laugh. Erik decided to join them for a snack. He sat down with a bag of chips and some dip. Lincoln looked up and asked Erik,
"What are you eatting Daddy?" Erik replied - "chips." Lincoln looked concerned and responded, "Daddy, that is not healthy food."

January 26, 2011: We were having dinner and as usual encouraging Lincoln to eat. Erik told him that if he ate his dinner he would grow big and strong. Lincoln made a frown face and said, "But Daddy, it's taken' a long time to get big."

January 24, 2011: Lincoln refused to put on his coat this morning. In keeping with the “pick your battles” approach to things and supporting his “choices” I decided that it was his body, not mine and that he would experience the natural consequence of the 18 degree morning. Just like the psychologist has instructed me to do. As I was putting Berkeley in the car seat (inside the house), I stood Lincoln on the front stoop (coatless), hoping that he would quickly give up the Max of the Wild Thing attitude and put on his coat. (He had already thrown toys down the stairs in response to me saying it was time to go and not giving into his request of carrying him down the stairs.) He stood for a moment on the stoop, then chucked the toys he was carrying in the yard, and took off running. Around the cul de sac, to the pipe-stem road. I could see him, he was safe, so I elected to ignore him, hoping he would return to my sweet, tow-headed little boy. My stone-walling only angered him. He got even more mad and then started shrieking. After loading the car and taking lots of deep breaths, and telling myself to enjoy the process, that I love this tiny human of my very own, I tried to get him to walk to me. I was stern, I cajoled, I pleaded, I got mad…I got really mad, and then I chased him (in my heels). What a scene. After finally catching him, he then decides to spit on me (totally gross because he managed to incorporate boogers) and then started crying. I mashed him in the car seat (with his coat on because at that point he was shivering and so was I, and I decided the psychologist didn’t know what the hell she was talking about). Finally on our way. I turned on Rock Me Mama – our typical morning song that he always requests and loves. He didn’t want music. I am convinced that he would have jumped out of the moving vehicle if it weren’t for the five point harness. Then I realized that I had just enough ice on my windshield that with the sun in my face, it wasn’t save to travel further. So, out of the car again, scrape, scrape and then back in the warm car. Another explosion from Lincoln – he says, “I told you not to take the snow off the window. I like it. You are not my mama anymore.” (and then he spits and sprays and kicks like a camel). I continued to breath and count. Thank heavens that daycare is close by. Short trip and with one mile to go, I tell him very calmly that I love him, I am sorry he is so angry, that I know it is hard to get up early and go to school, but that if he stops crying I will give him a fruit snack when I pick him up. Ahh, the holy grail has been found and I am a terrible, push-over for a mother. He stops crying, but still looks angry. Then when I stop the car at daycare and try to get him out, he demands his hat and gloves, and wants his coat zipped because he is so cold. Of course. At this point I have giant Berkeley in my arms (who is grunting, mad because he dropped his paci) and two full daycare bags, at least six other parents watching me, and I am 20 minutes late to work. I wanted to spit and spray and kick like a camel. But, alas, my survival instincts kicked in again. Lincoln, if you please get out of the car and walk nicely, the ten feet into school without your hat and gloves, and with your coat unzipped, I will get you TWO fruit snacks when I pick you up tonight. I arrived at work at 9:30am feeling like I needed a spa treatment and about a billion hours of parenting classes. And I now have the added to-do of going to Target to get fruit snacks to keep my end of the deal, because gosh knows, while Lincoln can’t seem to remember where he puts his cup (even though it can be sitting on the table right front of him), he will absolutely remember that he gets two packages of fruit snacks.

January 17, 2011: We stopped at a McDonald's on the way back from Christiansburg because Lincoln announced that he was "hungry for chicken nuggets and a toy." He ate his nuggets and happily played with his strange plastic toy. 20 minutes later, Lincoln says, "Hey mama." Yes Lincoln. He says, "I have chicken nuggets in my teeth and I love it."

December 22, 2010: Lincoln announced, "We can sing Happy Birthday to Berkeley today and then when Santa Claus comes, we can sing Jingle Bells and Rudolph the Big Ole' Reindeer." (For some reason the words "Red-Nosed" don't work in Lincoln's version of the song.

November 30, 2010: Lincoln, dressed in his orange and green fox sweater looks at himself in the mirror and says, "This fox is sneaky." And the very next sentence was , "Emerson is my best friend." Not sure how the thoughts are strung together...perhaps he was remembering a sneaky game that he and Emerson played.

November 23, 2010: Erik asked Lincoln if he wanted to play a game. Lincoln said sure. Erik suggested the alphabet game, and Lincoln said, "No, I'm to tired for the alphabet game. Let's play soccer instead."

November 15, 2010: Lincoln upon waking says to me "Mama, last night in my dreams, I hoped like a frog."

November 9, 2010: Out of nowhere Lincoln looks up at me and says, "Hey mommy, lions and cheetahs are endangered." And then he smiled the biggest, proud smile like he had just informed me of the winning lottery ticket number.

September 29, 2010: After finishing dinner, Lincoln asked to be excused from the table. "Mama, may I be sused?" Then he announced he needed to go pee-pee all by himself and off he headed to the bathroom. After he peed, he announced that he needed to go poo-poo by himself. He managed to get up on the potty - with the seat up. Then I started to get the play by play of his bathroom adventure. "Mama, my poo poo is coming out. Mama, my poo-poo is coming out really fast." Pause for a minute. Then the priceless remark said with much enthusiasm, "Hey mama, come look at my big snake." Laugh out loud.

September 23, 2010: This morning Lincoln told me about a dream he had, though he didn't recognize it as a dream. It started with, "Mama, member yes-er-day when that big green dinosaur was in Berkeley's room. He was marching like this." Lincoln demonstrated. Then he told me another part of the dream, "And der was an ant mama, with legs in Berkeley's room. Let me show you. It was right der mama."

September 14, 2010: Lincoln and I took Berkeley to the doctor today to get medicine for pink-eye and an ear infection. I told Lincoln that Berkeley was sick and had pink-eye, which is like a cold in his eye. Thoughtfully, Lincoln says to me, "Mama, Berkeley's eyes are not pink, they are blue like mine."

I could go on and on....with the priceless things Lincoln says and does.