Reflecting

I am in the measuring twice part of a heavy-mirror hanging project, and Thor has been very excited about having this Thor-length mirror to look in. As he was checking himself out yesterday, he called, "Mama! Come take a picture of me in the mirror!" I was happy to oblige.

Me, I Want a Hula Hoop

Thor seems to have had a very successful Christmas. It was fun to watch him make a circuit of his new toys last night and today, as he seemed to want to give each item equal time.

The biggest hit? Grandma came up with this Hot Wheels Pit Crew Racer, that is the front end of a car. With the included tools, he can change the tires, take apart and rebuild the engine, and reconfigure the bumper. He can also shift gears and pretend to drive it. Apparently, Thor has inherited Peepaw's mechanic gene. I'm not sure what this means for my driveway in 13 years, but I'm sure it will keep life interesting.

Uncle & Aunt Diarist also presented him with an RC car that was a favorite. It keeps with the theme: If it has tires, it is infinitely cherished.

Thank you to everyone who contributed to his haul. We really appreciate what you do for him, and we love you very much.

Merry Christmas, Family and Friends. Here's to a wonderful new year.

Bounce!

And also:

The Agony of Defeat

Conservatively, I would guess that Thor says "mama" around 1,500 times a day. The fact that he says it like Elvis (uuuuuuuh-muhmah!)is eternally amusing, but until he perfects the lip curl and knee jerk, the entertainment value falls sharply after about the eleven-hundredth use.

Yesterday, after I could bear it no more, I said, "Thor, can you go five minutes without saying mama?"

Gamely, he replied, "Sure!"

I said, "Thank you."

He said, "Uhm...Ma'am? Ma'am? Ma'am?"

And I laughed in the agony of my defeat.

Today, he told me, "Mama, I sure do love you...most of the time."

I suspect his endearment declines in a curve matching that of my patience. I told him I loved him all of the time, and he considered before amending, "I love you all of the time, too, mostly." I can live with that. That means he's a normal kid.

Hmmm

Thor: Mama, would you like to pet my bunnies?

Me: Er...when strange men approach me, wearing only their underpants, and ask me to pet their bunnies, I am naturally suspicious.

Thor: Okay! Well, I have bunnies, and you should definitely pet them.

Me: Okay!

North Pole Express

You Remind me of the Babe...

Tonight, I tried to show Labyrinth to my son.

"Why should we watch this?" He asked.

"Because it has muppets, and goblins, and fight scenes, and David Bowie," I answered.

He said, "Oh. David Bowie?"

"Yes," I nodded, "David Bowie."

When David Bowie came on the screen, I pointed him out. "That's David Bowie," I said, not mentioning that I loved David Bowie before I met Daddy.

"THAT?!" Thor asked incredulously. "That is David Bowie?!"

Surprised at his tone, I said, "Yes...why?"

He shook his head, "Well, in Space Chimps, Titan says to Ham, 'What? Are you David Bowie, or something?'"

While I was registering that David Bowie got name checked in Space Chimps, Thor was snorting his disgust. Seriously. He was so disappointed. I can only assume he thought David Bowie was an astronaut, or race car driver, or something else a four-year-old might find interesting.

He wandered off soon enough, bored out of his skull. Daddy Diarist had already left the room. That's fine. I never turn down five minutes alone with Ziggy Stardust.