peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

My son doesn’t really want to learn how to tie his shoes. He has put it off. I blame Velcro.

We practiced the bunny ears. We even did the one where you have one bunny ear and then you strangle the bunny with the other loop. I thought violence and a little humor might help.

I promised him a new pair of shoes (any color!) when he decides to learn to tie. But he seems to prefer simply slipping on his shoes. Even better with no socks!

He can totally do it. Dude! He just finished building the Lego Millennium Falcon in like three days. That’s 1,254 Lego pieces! If he can put together 1,254 pieces, he can put together two laces.

But, whatever. It’s a good thing that Velco shoes come in all sizes. Or, maybe there are Lego shoes?

Would your child handle being home alone, like Kevin McCallister?

Kevin in Home Alone was amazing. Sure, he fought off bad guys. And did so with such cleverness: using a hot iron, broken Christmas tree ornaments, tar, a BB gun, a tarantula, pulleys. You name it.

But, as a mother, I was most impressed with his other life skills.

• He took a shower and washed his hair.
• He made himself breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.
• He called for pizza delivery.
• He did the laundry.
• He bought himself a toothbrush. And probably even used it.

Would my child–who is Kevin’s age–handle being home alone? Two words: Uh, yikes.

I found out that my seven-year-old son has been washing his hair with only conditioner. He has the softest–but dirtiest–hair in town. But would he run a Spiderman bubble bath and drop in the Sesame Street color tablets that make the water turn turquoise? To quote Kevin, “I don’t think so.”

He knows how to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Oh and yogurt. That’s about it. The milk jug is too heavy for him to pour without spilling.

Doing laundry? I’m not sure if he even knows where the laundry room is. He wads up his dirty socks and leaves dirty sock balls throughout his room. Kinda like a treasure hunt.

He does brush his teeth. He recently lost his two front teeth, so two less teeth to brush.

And he know how to turn on the TV and put it in video game mode. Whew. He’ll be fine.

So the next time I banish my son to the attic and leave him home alone as I fly off to Paris, I will be reassured that he will fill his belly with peanut butter and jelly and play Xbox 360, with his dirty hair and toothless grin.

I love kids and their gazillion questions.

My son asks while running down a hill, “Is a horse faster than a car?”

“Uh yeah, horses are fast,” I blurted out. Magic answer. Quick answer. That’s all he wanted to hear. Hell if I know.

Then I went home and looked it up. Dang, I was wrong. According to Wikipedia:

Any car in good working order is faster than a horse on a good road. The top speed of a race horse is around 40 mph and that is only for a few miles. Horses can go where cars can not and so would be faster if crossing streams and jumping gullies and hedges is needed.

But sometimes kids need magical answers. My child was running like a horse. In that moment in time, he was a horse.

Wikipedia and your boring facts: you can suck it.

You may have an honor roll student.

But I have an Armpit Farter.

Yep.

He learned it–where else–in school.

I need a bumper sticker that says: I Heart My Armpit Farter.

Say what you want about gender differences and gender behavior.

In addition to observing the changing leaves and the migrating birds, I also observed some differences between a girl and a boy on a recent hike:

We see a duck.

• Girl: Looks for food to feed it.
• Boy: Looks for a rock to throw at it.

We see a giant toadstool.

• Girl: Thinks a fairy lives under it.
• Boy: Wants to kick it.

They pick up sticks.

• Girl: Hers is a magician’s wand.
• Boy: His is a dagger.

But I appreciate and embrace their differences. After all, these two little birdies will grow and migrate some day and I want to give them proper wings.