Really?

5:45 a.m.  Cohen wakes up. "Mommy!"  Tiptoes into our room "Mommy!"  I jump out of bed and rush out, closing the door,so at least one of us can get some inkling of sleep.  

"Go back to bed, Cohen." I steer him toward his room.  He stops by the bathroom.  

"Can I go potty?"

Really, Cohen?  I don't think I can sit in the bathroom and wait 10 minutes for him to possibly not even go.  
"Go to bed, Cohen."
More persistent "Can I go pottyyyyyy?"

We go in.  I open the linen closet and pull his seat from its hook on the door, place it on the potty, place him on it---oh yes, removed the diaper.  He sits for two seconds and pottying ACTUALLY ensues.  A few seconds later "Done!"

I lift him off the potty, send him back to his room, grab diaper, put it on him and put him back in bed.  "Good night" I tell him as I cover him up and tiptoe back to my own somewhat comfy bed. 

10 minutes later 
"Mommy!"

I jump out of bed, run out of the room, shut the door and find him in the living room. 
"Hear somefin' ."

I don't hear anything.

"Come on, Cohen. It's not time to get up.  Let's go back to bed."

I usher him to his room and help him into bed once again.  

Lightning McQueen comforter swallows him up and I tiptoe out again, closing the door behind me. 

10 minutes later...

"Mommy!"
Zoom! Zoom! Zoom!

 
"HEAR somefin.."

"Cohen, I don't hear anything.  Let's go back to bed."
He stops by the bathroom again. 
"Can I go poopy in the potty?"

REALLY???

(I bypassed/vetoed this option. I was 99% positive it wasn't going to happen.)

Back to bed for Cohen.  Back to bed for me.

10 minutes later...

We're both up for the day.  Sesame Street is on.  I'm blogging and about to get ready for work. 

Cora sleeps in.

silly faces

monkeys in a basket

4 year old perspective

Last night we spent some quality time with the family at the park.  The kids played on the playgrounds for awhile and then we took a nice walk along the river.  Actually, Cora and Cohen took a nice RUN along the river and Geron and I had a somewhat relaxing walk.  As we left the park, we decided to take the long way home and saw the most beautiful harvest moon, a pretty orange shade and it even had a 'face' smiling at us.  Geron asked if I knew what made the moon look the way it did.  I took astronomy in college and barely passed.  I studied hard enough to ace the final only so I could barely get by the full-course with a C.  That being said, I don't remember much about why the moon looked orange.   Cora piped up from the back seat, though, on why the moon was high in the sky and I thought it was too cute not to post.  

"When the sun goes down and the trees get black, that when the moon goes high up in the sky."  (Being a bit artistic, I love the way she noticed that the trees look black in the moonlight.)

Introspective

I debated whether posting this as it incriminates oneself, but if I must, I must. 

Last night, Cohen was playing in the floor of the living room.  One was on the way to the bathroom with a bit of an upset stomach.  One let out a brief, yet resonant sound from one's bottom as one passed said child.  In an instant, Cohen, still playing, said "I smell gas."  One preceded to the bathroom and erupted into laughter.

The Art of Conversation

Coffee Talk with Cohen, this a.m.:

Cohen woke up and walked into the living room.  First words out of his mouth were

 "Can I watch a movie?"

(I know, it shows that I'm not very creative in my morning entertainment for him while I'm trying to get ready for work, but it keeps him quiet while Daddy and Cora catch their few remaining morning z's.) He walked over to the recliner, pointed at it, and asked

 "Can I sit on that couch?"

 "Wait," I replied "where's my hug?"

 He shrugged his shoulders and answered

 "I don't know."

 I tried again "Can I have a hug?"

He came over, crawled in my lap and gave me a big hug, including pats on the back.  (I love that!)  Then, I let him slide down and he walked over to the chair again.  He turned to me and said

 "What's Daddy doing?"

"He's sleeping" I responded.

"Where's Sissy?" he asked.

"She's sleeping, too."

"I sleep in da night" he said.  "Where's Cohen?" he asked me.

"Right there" I answered as I pointed at him.  He then looked at me, thought for a minute, and asked

"Can I watch a movie...'bout...Veggie Tales?"

He climbed into the recliner, I turned on Dave and the Giant Pickle, and went about my morning routine.

Cohen loves Lydia's shoes

technically they are wedges.

haircut time