Purpleberries

The boys are finally much better, health-wise. Nathan apparently caught the same thing Evan had a couple days later! (Who needs sleep, anyway?!) If there's been any encouragement with their cycling illnesses, it's that most of the families we know with little kids are all dealing with the same stuff. Now, we're just trying to boost their immune systems and get them on the path to lasting health! Laura was eating breakfast with Evan - waffles, blueberries... Evan asked, "wha's dat, mommy?" as he pointed toward the blueberries in a small bowl. "Those are berries," she replied. "Ah doze puhpuhl?"(are those purple) he asked. "Yes, I guess they are." (They do look more purple than blue - at least the previously frozen ones we had) A minute or two later, Laura asked, "Evan, would you like some of those blueberries?" He corrected her, "Doze not bluebewies, doze puhpuhl bewies!"

Broken Moon

We were outside the other night when Evan spotted the moon. "Look a dat moon!" he exclaimed, "wha happened to da moon, Daddy?" It was a quarter moon, so he was curious as to what happened to the rest of it. Checking Nathan's recent solar system studies (video and book we checked out from the library), I asked him what happened to the moon. I really thought he would tell us how the earth is casting a shadow over part of the moon, but he surprised me: "I guess it's just broken!"

Friday Night Fights

Actually, it could be any night, but the most recent bout was on a Friday night (or, technically, Saturday morning). Nathan was coughing fiercely - hacking would be a more appropriate description - and something had to be done. His cousins and their parents were visiting, along with their dog and pet rat (hey, don't ask me what possessed my neice to get herself a pet RAT). So, everyone's asleep at 3:48AM except for Nathan, me, and the rat (they're sort of nocturnal, I think). I guess Nathan wasn't quite as awake as I thought he was when I approached him in the dark with some cough syrup. "Sit up, pal, and take this medicine," I whispered. "NO!" he replied. "Son, sit up and take this," I said firmly, as I reached behind him to help him up. Now, I'm really not sure how the little cup of cough syrup did not end up all over us and the bed, but somehow it did not. What I am sure of is that my lip was still somewhat swollen the following morning from the elbow my boy threw at it while he remained asleep and non-medicated. I can only imagine he was dreaming of Evan.

Is That You, Daddy?

Evan's been sick again... feverish (103), congested, double ear infection, and now having to use a nebulizer for the next two weeks due to some wheezing in his lungs. I really hate this allergy crap! He was sleeping b/w Laura and I a couple of nights ago and I had just got up in the night and given him more fever reducing medicine and laid him back down. He was pretty hot, so I got a cool wash rag to place on his head and neck, in an effort to bring his temp down. He didn't fight, kick, cry out or even push away when I placed it on him. He just lay still and asked very clearly and softly, "Is dat you, Daddy?" "Yeah, buddy, it's me." And then he went right back to sleep...

Electric Gardening

We were all outside on a recent 80+ degree Spring afternoon. I was raking up leaves with Nathan and Evan's help, and Laura was digging up some tulip bulbs to store until the next planting. At that time, the following conversation ensued...



Nathan: "Mommy, what are you doing?"

Laura: "I'm digging up these tulip bulbs, so we can save them for later."

Nathan: "Tulip bulbs?"

Laura: "Yeah, see these little bulbs...", holding one out for him to examine.

Nathan: "What are you gonna do with them?"

Laura: "I'm going to put them in a paper bag and save them for later."

Nathan: (after a thoughtful pause) "How do you turn them on?"

Go Fly A Kite

It's been pretty windy lately, which sparked the idea in Nathan that we need to go fly a kite. So... we loaded everyone in the car this past Sunday afternoon and headed to the park with his Elmo kite. There's just nothing that scares the poop out of birds like running into a big, red, flying Elmo! (which can be dangerous for those below without a hat) We stopped along the way to pick up some snacks and more string. It's not that we didn't have any string, it's just that I learned to fly a kite from my dad, who believed if you could still make out the picture on the kite, you didn't have it high enough, really. So, I bought two more spools of string.

Now, the problem with flying a kite in a park (even a smaller, less poulated one) is that there are other things to do there. I remember flying my kite in a large, open field with nothing else around to do. At this park, there were slides, swings, field lights, bleachers, squeaky gates, trash on the ground, and a host of other distractions for two and four-year-old boys. Which left the older boy (me) with the kite. Thankfully, Laura was with us, or else I may have completely lost track of the boys.

Note: For those of you thinking, "Hey! This is supposed to be about the boys, not you! After all, it's the "Peck Boys Report", isn't it?", let me just say that I can shut this blog down in a heartbeat, so just give me a little latitude here! After all, there are three Peck Boys in our home!

After Nathan helped me launch it, I flew my (Nathan's) little Elmo kite as high as those three spools of string tied together would let me. I chased off birds, wowed little kids (and their parents), fought off shifting and dying winds, and lived to tell the tale, my friends! I managed to pull out of a near fatal down swoop, and salvaged a hard slam into a light tower (over the baseball diamond). I even let Nathan "steer" for a short while, until something else was "cooler" than flying a kite (like climbing to the top of the bleachers). Evan was busy picking up the trash that litterers had left on the ground and depositing it in the garbage can (a novel idea), so he really never engaged the kite except to look up and exclaim, "Look Mommy! Look dat Elmo kite!" He may not be able to clean up the world, but he sure cleaned up that little park!

The down side to all that string is that you have to reel it all back in. Unless, of course, you just cut the string and run! Don't worry, Elmo is safe at home (although I may have developed mild carpal tunnel syndrome).

More on the younger Peck Boys tomorrow...

Evan's Almighty Pen

If "the pen is mightier than the sword", I'd hate to see Evan get a sword into his hand! Ah, but how quickly we (translation: I) had forgotten Nathan's own fascination with leaving his mark (or anyone else's for that matter) on anything and everything at this age. Yes, in a momentary lack of sanity (or perhaps a simple lack of tidiness, which is a given constant with two preschool-aged boys) there was a cheap ball-point pen left down low somewhere. It could have been lying next to a shopping list, journal, or sudoku book (although I seriously doubt that last one as none of us play). It might have even been "out of reach" for Evan, according to my poor, deceived mind. Nevertheless, just as I was shushing Nathan to listen at the unusual quietness from sweet little Evan, I had that feeling. You know, that feeling you get when you know one of your kids is up to something they shouldn't be and you don't know what it is but you know it can't be a good thing because they're just too quiet and that is never a good thing (when they're awake)! I gave Nathan my full-lunged, full-cheeked sigh accompanied with my "this is just great!" frown and roll of the head as I called out, "EVAN! What are you doo-ing?!" I heard a mild commotion in the bathroom followed by little feet scampering toward us from the hall. "I right here, Daddy." "Great! But, what are you doing?" "I writin'!"

In a flash, I was in his immediate presence, relieving him of his instrument of folly (Proverbs 22:15a - "Folly is bound up in the heart of a child..."). I quickly assessed the damage - bathroom cabinet, drawers, toilet seat lid, rubber frog bath toy, training potty and step-stool. "Evan did it!" he informed me. "And Evan's gonna get it", I thought to myself. I knelt down and pulled him close as I informed him sternly that his actions were not acceptable and followed Proverbs 22:15b - "but the rod of discipline will drive it (that folly thing) far from him."

As it was bedtime, I postponed the cleanup, but I fully intend to include my little artist in that process! And, you know, our little "lefty" (he generally prefers his left hand for things like eating, painting, coloring...) sure has a nice-looking swirl!

Got Boots?

In case you missed the blog(s) chronicling Evan's history from conception, here's the nutshell: Evan was conceived at sea (on a cruise ship). We joked during his pregnancy about naming him something to do with water. The few we found that weren't Swahili or Sanscrit or something were just not our style. "Moses" means "drawn from the water", but come on - Moses?- talk about putting a lot of pressure on a kid! So, we named the boy Evan, which, according to the name websites means "God is gracious" in Hebrew and "Swift/Young Warrior/Well-born" in Gaelic/Celtic/Greek. (tmi?) To the point: He has always loved water! He likes to bathe in it, play in/with it, splash it, dump it (includes all liquids), play "will it float?" in it (includes all liquids), swim in it, etc. He had his first swimming lessons before age 2, and the instructors would say, "Evan sure is a true water-baby". You see, it doesn't matter if it's freezing cold outside (which happens only a few days a year here, but you get the point), if there is a drop, puddle or pond, the boy will swiftly find it. It doesn't matter to him if we have to be somewhere in five minutes. It doesn't matter to him if it's cold. And, apparently, it doesn't matter to him if his feet are soaked in his shoes and socks. It doesn't matter that I'm standing five feet away yelling, "NOOOOO........." So, today, we're going to buy some boots for the boy. And maybe a wetsuit. And now you'll all understand why he's in the same strange outfit in all his pictures between now and age ten.

Say WHAT?

The boys apparently fill up their word quota at home with us, as both of their teachers have informed us that they are not the talkative guys we are used to. I get "Nathan is very thoughtful and inquisitive - he's a really bright child" on occasion. I was also amazed recently when Evan's teachers were in shock that he was talking to me when I picked him up one afternoon. "EVAN TALKS?!" one of them asked. Well... we let his little kitty out of the bag, and apparently he landed on all fours! Today, just a few weeks removed from that "Evan talks?" encounter, I had a different comment at pickup time. "I think today is the first day we actually had to tell Evan to be quiet!" (And so it begins...) "But he sure has the sweetest voice - I just love to hear him talk!" Yes, I do to, except when he's telling me "no, I not go to school today!", etc. Speaking of Evan, I've got to go rescue him from Nathan's wrath... (I'm sure it will be blog fodder in a few days).

A Safe Place

I've frequently used the phrase, "in a safe place" in reply to the boys' questioning the whereabouts of various items I'd rather them not have at a particular moment, or season, or...ever! For example, if Nathan asked me where I put the remote to his truck after he repeatedly slammed it into the walls, chairs, and the rest of the family, I simply replied, "in a safe place". "Safe place" translates "safe from you". For another example, Evan asked recently, "Daddy, where is dat scwewdwivuh?" My reply, of course, "In a safe place."


Kid's these days are so quick to pick up on the things we say, aren't they? For yet another example, I had left my cell phone on the kitchen counter recently and when I returned for it, it was gone - gone, I tell ya! Nathan had been on the computer the whole time and Laura was in the back of the house, which meant one of two things - either I really couldn't remember where I left my phone, OR... EVAN had moved it somewhere. (Just so you know, Evan has been into hiding things lately - including himself) So, I hunted down the little guy and asked him, "Evan, do you know where my phone is?" He smiled and replied, "Mm-Hmm!" "Ok, buddy, Daddy needs you to show me where it is." His excited, hands-in-the-air reply: "Iss inna kitchen!" As I followed him back into the kitchen I inquired, "OK, Evan, but where in the kitchen?" He gave me a big, bright-eyed smile and said, "In a safe place!" I found it later between two sofa pillows and, no, we don't keep our sofa "inna kitchen"!

i, Evan

Evan can put away some food when he's hungry. After a few weeks of being sick, I was a little worried he was getting skinny on us. What was I worried about?! It might have taken a few days for him to get back to normal after getting well. I just wonder if, psychologically, we did anything to him as a baby to cause his obsession with stuffing his mouth with food, instead of taking reasonably sized bites. We cut his food up for him, but then he'll put six pieces of chicken in his mouth at once! We really have to stay on him at meals so he doesn't choke himself (or swallow Nathan whole, by accident!). One recent evening, Evan finished his meal, got down from his chair, and crawled up into my lap as I finished my supper. I thought he was just wanting to be close to me.


Nope.


He looked at me with his "sweet eyes", gave me a hug, and then turned toward my plate. "More carrots, Daddy!" This is my supper, Evan. "I want more carrots, Daddy!" I gave him a few. "Mooore carrots, Daddy!" He finished the last two bites. "I want more chicken, Daddy!" As I gave him a bite of my chicken, I commented, "You're a little piggy tonight, aren't you?!" He turned to me with a wrinkled brow and stern gaze and corrected me with his chicken-filled cheeks: "I not "piggy"! I Evan!"

Genie In The House

Laura and I were having a conversation while Nathan and Evan were playing nearby. At some point in the discussion, I laughed and said, "I wish!" Nathan suddenly piped in with, "Daddy! There's no such thing as Genies!" Laura and I stared at each other with that "where-does-he-get-this-stuff" look and then laughingly confirmed Nathan's statement as truth.

George Washington, Pirate

The boys have been studying (or at least coloring pictures of) American Presidents during the month of February. There are several print-outs with coloring and/or painting on them lying around the kitchen from their take-home artwork. One night, Evan and I were sitting at the table having a snack when he pointed to a portrait of George Washington in his colonial tricorn hat. Evan exclaimed excitedly, "Look, Daddy! Look dat piwate! (translation: pirate)" Though I'm sure the Brits would agree with him, he probably needs more teaching on the presidents before his first round of promotional testing!

In His Way

Nathan was riding his trike through the house and kept riding into kitchen and ran into Laura and over her foot more than once. I stopped him and told him to stop riding in the kitchen. "But I need to, Daddy!" No, sir, you don't need to - you keep running into mommy. "Well, she keeps getting in my way!"

The trike spent the rest of the evening outside.