Piece by piece... he's breaking me.

My son has a way of killing me, just killing me... in a good way. Piece by piece he's turning me into mommy mush. I think it's intentional folks. I think he somehow knows that if he starts now by the time he asks for the dirt bike, skateboard, car, ridiculously priced athletic shoes...I'll just give in. A co-worker of mine, when William was a very small baby called him "Stewie" (from The Family Guy), because he said William had a little man face that always looked like he knew WAY more than the rest of us and was plotting his world domination. I totally concur.

This past week has been particularly full of verbal gems from him that either crack me up, melt my heart, or make me wonder just what goes on in that over-sized noggin (90th percentile kids, 90TH!) of his. Here are my favorites:

Maple Syrup - so William now gets the concept of laundry. Don't get excited, he's not doing it (I WISH) but he knows that once his favorite clothes/items have been worn/dirtied, mommy must wash them before he can wear/use them again. This has resulted in my being asked, nearly daily, "mommy did you do laundry? is my (insert item here) clean?" I have told him, nearly daily, that mommy does NOT do his laundry every day and that he must wait. So he has this Pillow Pet (for those of you who do not know what this is, it means you are both blessed and not exposed to children's television) that he begged for FOREVER and now that he has it, it is a higly loved item. Well, it was time to wash said pet and after hearing me being badgered for 3 days, my poor husband took pity on us both and washed it. Now thanks to various skin conditions we have two different detergents, fabric softeners and dryer sheets and I have no idea what combo my hubby used, but apparently, it smells like maple syrup. How do I know? Here is my conversation with William the other night as I'm laying down with him to listen to my usual 3 lullabyes.
William - maple syrup
Me - what?
William - maple syrup, I smell maple syrup.
Me - William you always say that, not everything can smell like maple syrup.
William - well, something does.
Me - ooooookay.
William (now sniffing at everything around him) - it's my pillow pet!
Me - Dude, what?
William - I'm SERIOUS, mom, it's the pillow pet. Smell it.
Me - I'm not smelling the pillow.
William - MO-OOOOM!
Me - fine. let me smell it. (I smell it) William, it smells like clean laundry
William - well, can you fold it back into a ladybug, i can't sleep on that.
Me - Dude whatever, I'll fold it.
William - thanks mom, I can't have my head smelling like syrup!
Me - (totally cracking up now) why William, afraid I'll eat your head?
William - (now totally cracking up)...no! don't be silly mommy, you can't eat my head. now, good night. I love you.

Let's Try This Again - Now I am very detail oriented, but at the same time (it may seem like an odd combination) I have a HORRIBLE memory. I believe it comes from being in a constant rush in my head. I speak quickly, I skim when I read, I juggle way too much all at once (I'm a mom, go figure). Unfortunately for me, William remembers EVERYTHING and makes a point of telling me when I mess up. The other night, though, it was done in such a way that I found myself amused by how a 4-year-old's mind works. I had turned our entire upstairs playroom into a giant "tent city". I assembled two of their play tents and then using sheets, binder clips, doors and anything else I could think of, I connected them with the couch, train table, Elizabeth's doorway, you name it. Very little of that room was not converted into a tent. I LOVED it, it was a very magical, whimsical, comforting room. William loved it so much, he asked me if he could sleep there. So there we are, listening to his lullabyes when the verbal magic begins...
William - how are you mommy?
Me - I'm great William. How are you?
William - I'm great too. Thank you for building me this cool tent room. I could sleep here every night.
Me - I could too, it's magical here.
William - yeah, mommy. Wanna sleep up here tonight?
Me - I'd love it, although the floor is kinda hard for mommy.
William - oh I didn't mean in my tent mommy. You could come back up when you're done doing your "stuff" downstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed, that way I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (dying laughing)... ah, okay William. I understand my snoring is loud. So I can sleep in your room?
William - yeah! You can even sleep on my pillow pet. But first, when you say that it's your last song and that you're going to go downstairs, I'm going to ask you to get me more Marley books first, okay?
Me - okay. so after I go downstairs I'll come back up and sleep in your room with the door closed so that you won't hear my snoring.
William - no, no, no. Mom, let's try this again. Did you forget something? I think you did.
Me - (laughing now)... oh right, sorry the books
William - right. now let's try this again. You're going to go to my room, get me more Marley books, THEN you'll head downstairs, do your stuff, brush your teeth, comb your hair, whatever (he's saying this in that sighing yada-yada-yada tone) and THEN you'll come upstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed on my pillow pet so I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (laughing so hard I'm crying now)....yes, yes. okay.
William - say it mom!
Me - say what?
William - what I said, what you're going to do. I thought we were trying this again.
Oh my god... this kid is using my own technique on me! Who is this kid?

Stitches - So today I went on a playdate with a new playgroup, but we ended up staying only 20 minutes because William took such a bad spill that he split open the skin under his chin. I did my best to remain calm, keep my face neutral, and inform him that we would need to leave the playdate to see the doctor, but in my head I'm thinking "shit! He needs stitches and he's a TOTAL drama queen." I'm not a squeamish person AT ALL, but discovered that I am when it comes to my kids. I was having trouble keeping my stomach calm every time I check the bleeding. Blech! We head to the doctor and surprisingly William is a CHAMP! He tells the nurse they need to hurry because he wants to head back to the park. He's telling the nurse and doctor about his Oregon Ducks jersey and how is Oom (Uncle) Dane had his head sewed when he was 4. The only crying came during the stitches because they couldn't get the area numbed as much as they'd like, but with only 2 stitches needed, giving him a shot to numb him would hurt more than just getting it over with, so they stitch him up. He's done crying by the time they sit him up and not only picks a toy out of the the "prize box" for himself, but gets one for his sister (who cried the ENTIRE TIME) as well. This whole moment set up SO many memorable quotes for the day, here are just a few:
#1 - we leave the doc's office to see a fire truck and ambulance arrive and he says, "wow someone must be really hurt! I bet they'll have to do more than sew HIS chin."
#2 - when I tell him he was so brave he says, "but I cried mom, why was I brave?" I told him that getting through something scary makes you brave, crying or not. He says, "oh cool! So do I look tough now mommy?"
#3 - I took him for a "special treat" at Toys R Us for being so amazing during the whole thing and apparently, it was enough to drown out the bad because when his Oma (grandma) called him and said she heard he had a crazy day he replied, "yeah! I got a motorcycle AND a new bridge for my train!"
#4 - this one was the kicker. We're all sitting at dinner talking after my mom had called - talking about his bravery, the cool park, his playtime with Daddy outside and the new video game they were trying and all of a sudden, after some silence I hear a quiet "mommy?" "Yes?" I say. He says, "This was the best day." I'm kinda tearing up at this (feeling horribly guilty for not catching him on the slide) and say, "even with your chin?" He says, "yeah, mommy, it was great. and guess what else?" I ask, "what else?" And he says, "I love you."

Oh man, this kid has my number... and I'm so proud he's mine.