We were driving home today and Deep Thinker asked how to make paint.
I said, “I wish I knew! But you asked the wrong girl…I’m just not sure how to make paint.”
He responded, “Oh, no, I think I asked the right girl. You used to be a teacher didn’t you?”
Of course, ALL teachers know how to make paint. How silly of me to forget.
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We visited the Getty Museum last weekend. My six-year old, “Deep Thinker,” had lots of questions about the paintings we were looking at. I didn’t even really stop to think that there might be nude paintings or that they might surprise him.
Anyway, we were walking through the room with the still lifes and portraits. He was asking questions like “Who is that? Why did they want to paint him?”
Pretty soon we cross into a room with a few nude paintings, but traditional, 17-18th century stuff, nothing alarming. Still, Deep Thinker suuuuuure needed to let me know. So, he fit little announcements about the nudes into his questions. As we slowly walk around the room, here is a transcript of a few of his comments:
“So, where is that place there with all the boats? WHOAH, there’s another naked girl….And why aren’t there any…WHOAH, another naked girl…people on that boat??” (Also, as I am answering, “I’m not sure why there aren’t–” he interjects, “OK MORE naked girls”–“where’d that boat go?”)
It went on like this for several minutes. Then suddenly, I guess we went into another room with portraits, and my son asks, “Um, when are we going to see more paintings of naked girls?”
I’m not sure if that meant that he wanted to see more naked girls, or if he was simply preparing himself just in case. Poor thing–next time I’ll check out whether the exhibit includes nude paintings before taking my sons!
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Today we went with friends to the Getty Museum in Los Angeles. It’s really nice–a modern, spacious building surrounded by beautiful gardens. It has several pavillions with exhibits. In one of them, we saw paintings by Rembrandt, Millet, Degas, and many others.
So, I was admiring this still life painted by Chardin in the late 1700’s. My son, age six, was standing beside me. The painting was very serene. It was a table top with lots of different types of peeled fruits, glasses half full of water, and things like this on the table.
My son seemed interested in the painting too, staring at it like he was thinking really deeply. I thought this would a great chance to explain the term “still life.”
So, I turned to him and said, “Hey, see this awesome painting…Do you know what it’s called when artists paint pictures with this type of stuff in it?”
He responded without even thinking: “Food?”
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Tonight Rowdy Rebel wanted to say the blessing for us at dinner. Deep Thinker helped him by starting “Thank you God for…”
I was so proud that Rowdy Rebel repeated and finished with “Thank you God for my French toast.” (Yes, we had French toast for dinner…oh well.)
Then Deep Thinker says, “I have a better prayer. It’s real fast. Thank you, God, for the whole entire earth.”
Rowdy Rebel tried so hard to repeat it exactly, but it came out like this: “Thank you God for totally worth.”
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This year in kindergarten, Deep Thinker learned about symbols of the United States, inclulding the bald eagle. He became somewhat obssessed with the bald eagle, so we had to do lots of internet research on them.
We learned that newly hatched bald eagles attach to the first moving thing they see as their mother, even if it is an animal other than an eagle, or even a human.
For a few months, he stopped talking about eagles. Then yesterday, he suddenly started lecturing me about not being near bald eagles when they hatch–apparently the first thing a baby bald eagle spots moving is taken to be the parent, and the baby birds attaches to it. My son said, “DON’T MOVE if you’re near a bald eagle when it hatches out of its egg!!! The baby bird will think you are its MOM.”
He vowed, “Mom, if I’m ever near a bald eagle when it hatches, I’m gonna FREEZE. What if the eagle saw me and thought I was its parent? I’m not ready to be a DAD. I’m just a KID!“
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When we moved back to Southern California, Rowdy Rebel’s nap and sleep schedule got out of sinc (AGAIN).
So, I started laying down with him to get him asleep to avoid the screaming. The other day, he kept saying over and over, “MOMMY, I don’t WANT to sweep (sleep)! I don’t want to!”
I was being so quiet and calm. I said, “Well little one, you are growing. You need to sleep so your little body will have enough energy-”
He interrupted me and said, “I NOT LISTEN.”
Thanks.
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I had the most interesting conversation with my three-year old. He was being typical Rowdy Rebel–sweet, honest, yet naughty all at the same time.
He said “I want to go to school.” (He omits “doesn’t,” so he actually meant, “I don’t want to go to school.”)
I asked why. He said, “Teacher said she going to call my MOMMY.”
I asked why. He answered, “I told teacher ‘no you can’t call my MOMMY.'”
So, again, I asked, “Why did the teacher want to call Mommy?”
He answered, “I don’t want talk.”
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When we were in Northern California, Deep Thinker’s class took a field trip to a factory where they make teddy bears. Before he went, he asked me my favorite color but wouldn’t tell me why. I said black. But he said, no, that he thought red might be a better one. So, I said “Okay, red.”
Then they got back from the field trip. He had made a red teddy bear. He told me all about how they stuffed it and then even put a little cushion inside shaped like a heart! And he said it was really for me, but he refused to give it to me. After that day, he began to sleep with the teddy bear every night.
Yesterday while I was tucking him in, he told me he had finally named his (yes, now his, no longer mine) teddy bear. I have no idea how he came up with this name, but it had me chuckling for the rest of the night. The name is Red Lightening. (By the way, the teddy is a boy.)
(The above photo is Red Lightening seated beside my own childhood teddy bear:)
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I think all kids love copying phrases they hear adults say. My older son is no exception. He tries really hard and loves it when his friends laugh or think he sounds cool.
Yesterday I was asking about his new school. He’s been going a week and a half, but I guess I’ll ask these questions as long as he keeps answering–“Who did you talk to? Who did you sit with? Who did you play with? Did you tell any funny jokes?”
At first he likes talking about school, but then he starts getting bored and sends obvious signals. So when I asked if he liked the stuff they did in class, he said “I forgot.” This is a pretty clear sign that he’s ready to stop talking about school and do something funner.
I thought I’d try once more, just to get a little more info on how his day went. So I said, “Well, try really hard to remember. Did you like the stuff you did today? Did you understand everything?”
He said, “Mom, I got three words for ya: I forgot.”
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There are caterpillars all over the place. They’re hanging out of trees, crawling all over the ground, and sometimes blowing in the wind here! It’s awful!
It’s so hard to get Rowdy Rebel in the front door, because he loves to stand and stare at the caterpillars screaming “WOOK, a piwar! WOOK anuder piwar!!!!” (LOOK, a pillar! LOOK, another pillar!)
So, I was calling him to come on in, and then I hear a loud STOMP in his direction. I said, “Rowdy Rebel…What are you doing?”
He said, “I stomp pillar on face!!! He bwoken (broken)!!!” Of course, his eyes are all bright and full of excitement as he yells this.
See why his blog nickname is Rowdy Rebel?
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