Reading- by Josiah

Guess what?! I'm learning how to read! And it is SO awesome!

I should mention that Mom, being the total wet blanket that she always is, keeps trying to tell me that I'm not really reading. She says it in her really "nice" voice- the one she uses when she's totally ruining my world but acting like she wishes she weren't. The one she used when she told me I couldn't grow up to be a dinosaur, the one she used when she told me I could never turn Gabby into a brother, the one she uses when she tells me I can't be a woman when I grow up so I can paint my toenails, too. I know she means well, but as soon as I hear that tone of voice, I stop listening. Because the news is never good.

Anyhow, Mom keeps talking about how I really need to learn all my letters first. Whatever. Gabby knows her letters, she's known them for months. So any time anyone asks me what a letter is, I just stall, and Gabby will yell it out. Then I just repeat whatever she said. That little freak of a nerd has known her letters since before she turned 2, so I figure I don't need to bother with it. After all, she knows nothing about the different kind of contruction trucks, emergency vehicles and race cars. Together, we've got it covered.

Besides, you can totally read without even looking at letters. It's simple, really, you just ask Mom, "Mom, what does that say?" And Mom tells you, and, bam, you've read it. Mom says that's not really me reading, that's her reading. But my theory is that reading is figuring out what signs, books, TV credits, receipts, magazines are all trying to communicate. Well, I've figured out that Mom can tell me, so, by definition, I'm reading, right? It's like that whole "language's primary goal is to communicate things, and if something is successfully communicated, grammar and spelling are unnecessary" argument. (In case you're wondering, Mom doesn't subscribe to that idea, either, she's always correcting me on how to pronounce things and "conjugate verbs," whatever that means...)

My favorite time to read is in the car. Especially on the way to soccer practice, when Gabby's not there, and it's just me and mom. That's a pretty long drive, and we go down lots of streets with lots of signs. I just yell out, "Mom, what does that sign say?" and Mom says something. I don't really care what she says, because I'm already looking for the next sign. I heard someone bragging once about speed-reading, so I figure the goal is to read as many signs between our house and the soccer field as possible. I think today we hit 73 or something like that. I don't know for sure, though, because I only like to count to 20. I let Gabby handle the counting of anything beyond that.

Anyhow, I just wanted to share in case you hadn't learned to read yet. (Gabby just pointed out that people who can't read couldn't read this blog. See what I mean- total nerd. I just hit her on the head with a tractor and she's went off crying to Mom.) Guess I better wrap this up, it seems I'm in trouble. But I'll keep you posted on my reading progress!

Popsicles- or not...- Josiah

I really worry for my Mom. I don't think she's very smart. And I think, when she doesn't know the answer to my questions, she makes things up.

Today, she was working in Gabby's room a lot, which I took to mean she wanted me to play on my own. I got that idea when she kept saying, "Josiah, please put down that laundry / the carpet cleaner/ my hammer and go play on your own!" I figure, since she was so busy upstairs, that probably meant that I should play downstairs. And since she was pulling everything out of Gabby's drawers and closet, she would probably like me to do the same in her room. I figured she's always doing nice things for Gabby and I, and never gets to take care of her own room, so I would help her out. A nice surprise for Mother's Day, right?

So while I carefully emptied the cabinets from under both sinks in Mom and Dad's bathroom, and stacked everything in order by size and color, I can across a pretty pink box. Inside was one nicely wrapped, long packet that looked familiar. I ran up the stairs and found Mom, and yelled, "Look Mom, I found a popsicle! Can I have it?!? PLEASE??!?" Mom started to giggle a bit and said, "Josiah, that's not a popsicle, that's a pregnancy test. Please stop playing in Mom's bathroom."

Okay, here's the thing. Mom is smart enough to know, just by seeing that thing, that I had been in her bathroom. But it's like she's allowed just one minute of intelligence a day, and that was it, and from there on out, she's a total rock. I know this because she could not answer a single one of my questions. I asked her what this "pregnancy test" was for. She said it was to know if we were going to have another baby. Well, Dad has already said that we will only have another baby "if we can figure out what in the heck we're supposed to do with the two we already have, and if we move into a bigger house with a room set aside just for Dad so that he can have some peace and quiet for just 5 little minutes once a week." Well, since we know that's not happening, we know we're not having a baby, so I don't get what this test thing is for.

I asked Mom how it works, and I think she was just too distracted to realize the crazy thing she was saying. She started talking about PEEING on this thing, and how that was just like how I peed in the cup at the doctor's office, and that there were these chemical things that happen in a Mom's body that help her know she's going to have a baby and you can tell this in her pee and this stick would know if the chemicals were there and tell her if she's pregnant.

That's okay, you can take a couple of seconds of silence to try to absorb that crazy talk, I know I did.

Are you all right? Okay, I'll continue... So, yeah, then I figured we should test this thing out. I asked Mom if I could pee on it. She said no. How about Gabby? She said no. How about Taco or Bandit, or Grandma or Grandpa, or Pastor Bill or my Cubbie leaders... No, no, no. She said it only works if the Mom pees on it, which I don't think can be right. I mean, Gabby's the last baby we had in this house, and if any of those other people could have had early warning that she was coming, they would have needed it. She's a disaster! I told Mom the next time we went to the store, we should buy all those people pregnancy tests so that they could know if they are having any babies coming along. As far as I'm concerned, fore-warned is fore-armed.

Not that I really buy into this whole peeing on a stick thing. I mean, it's all a little ridiculous, you know? Just another one of those stories Mom makes up when she doesn't know how to answer my questions. I can't wait until we go to church choir practice tonight, I'll ask my teachers, I'm sure they'll tell me the truth...

My Green Thumb- Josiah

I really, really, really love what Mom calls our "science lesson" this month. She calls it planting and gardening, I call it making a big mess out of dirt without getting into trouble.

We've never really had much dirt for me to dig in. Mom and Dad say they both really don't like yard work, so they purposely chose a house with a small, simple yard "that backs to open space so we can see nature without being responsible for it." I don't really know what all that means, but it basically sounds like my Mom and Dad are too lazy to provide for me something that is fun. Typical.

But Mom's kinda gotten into this educational kick lately (something about TV frying my brain and maybe if I spend some time outside she will stop finding Legos in the air vents...) So she came up with the idea that if I plant seeds, she could try to teach me about roots and stems. And phloem, xylem, sclerenchyma and photosynthesis... yeah, I was listening, but don't tell Mom, it might go to her head. So Mom went out and bought some seeds, dirt and pots. And Grandma bought Gabby and I each some gloves, kneeling pads, trowells, cultivators and watering cans that all match with Diego on them for me and Dora on them for Gabby- because Grandma knows what is important.

Planting the seeds was pretty fun- Mom decided we would plant seeds in the house first, to germinate. (She likes to use big words like that, but it basically means you put them in little dirt boxes until they do something other than sit there like the piles of dirt that they are.) It has been pretty fun, because I get to stand on a kitchen chair and water all the seeds, but Gabby usually gets strapped into her eating chair first. This makes her mad, but it's her own fault for constantly trying to eat the dirt. Anyhow, if didn't take long for some of the flowers to sprout, which is good for me because I was seriously starting to wonder if Mom knew what she was doing at all.

So today, Mom said it was time to move those "flowers" outside. I should really clarify this. Mom keeps telling me that these are flowers and she shows me this picture on some packet and says things like, "See, these are going to be tall and blue, and these over here are going to be yellow..." You know, for someone who was so adamant that I learn my colors, it seems she should take her own advice- those things are green. I kept telling her over and over they are green, but she just doesn't get it sometimes...

So I followed Mom outside and you know what she did next- she made a HUGE mess! It was awesome! I've never seen my Mom do things like this! I mean, she tends to ignore dirt in our house until she thinks "someone is going to call CPS and we'll deserve it..." But she NEVER goes out and just starts making massive, disgusting, beautiful messes. Today, she was a vision in mud. She was tearing out grass and throwing it over the fence. AND SHE TOLD GABBY AND ME THAT WE COULD, TOO!! (There was a little drama with her trying to tell Gabby which grass to pull up that ended up with Gabby screaming and running away and Mom muttering about how Dad is going to kill her for letting us ruin the grass he just planted... but she didn't stop us, so I'm guessing it wasn't that big a deal...) Mom's pants got all muddy, and she kept crawling in all the grass Gabby was watering which just made her more muddy. She had dirt in her hair, and on her face and under her fingernails- and she didn't even rush in and throw herself in the bathtub, like she always does to me when I try to come in the house looking like that.

Now, I'm not stupid. I know that this kind of chance does not come up often- it might even be once in a lifetime. So I went with it, man! I started pulling up grass and dirt and throwing it as far as I could! Sure, sometimes it didn't really make it over the fence, and once it even hit Mom full in the eye. But she seemed to be too numb with whatever she was doing, she barely noticed. Then Mom started to let me water what she was planting with her watering can, and even let Gabby help, too! What, is it Christmas?! Gabby and I took that to mean we needed to help Mom water everything. We kept walking about 10 feet away and watering the same spot of grass over and over and over again. Then we would go back to where Mom was working and ask for more water. Eventually Mom wised up and went and got a big ol' pitcher from the kitchen so she could fill our cans up endlessly.

I don't know what got into Mom today, but I like it! I really did learn a lot about science. I learned how to make the perfect kind of mud- not too wet, not too dry, will stick to everything, but dry quickly so it's hard to get out of clothes. I learned how to find worms and stick them in my sister's hair. I learned that if you hit a cat with a clump of muddy grass, she runs away and may even bonk right into the fence if you catch her off guard. Mom was right- gardening is very educational. And the voodoo effect it has on my Mom isn't too bad, either...

Story time- by Josiah

I LOVE story time! My mom is the BEST at story time. Largely because she is SO easy to manipulate. Man, I can get that woman to do just about anything if 1) she thinks it's educational and 2) I am witty about how I demand. I mean, how I ask.

For every nap and bedtime, Mom, Gabby and I all sit in the big chair in Gabby's room and read books. Every time Mom says, "Josiah, tonight we're going to do 3 books." Do you know, if I could count on one hand, I could count on one hand the number of times we've only read 3 books. Here's how it goes:

Mom: Jobster, let's pick three books.
Me: How about five books?
Mom: Three.
Gabby: Train book!

- Okay, just to interrupt, this is where I am SO smart. Gabby is just starting to figure out how to be a brat, I mean, how to ask for things she wants rather than just going along with whatever I want. Some big brothers would let this slow them down. Not me. I USE this to my advantage. Watch carefully...

Me: I don't WANT to read the train book!
Mom: Josiah, that train book is the one YOU picked out from the library.
Me: I want three OTHER books!
Gabby: TRAIN BOOK!
Mom: Okay, Gabby, we will read the train book, Josiah pick out two books.
Me: YOU SAID THREE BOOKS!
Mom: Okay, okay, we'll read the train book, and whatever three books you pick.
Gabby: Mouse book!

- Man, I'm training that girl well! She learns very quickly, and I'm quite proud of her progress.

Mom: Okay, Josiah, you pick two, Gabby picks two, and that's four books. Okay?
Me: Okay, I want the dump truck book, the pigeon book and the monster book.
Mom: Josiah, we'll just do the first two, we're not reading all three. I already promised Gabs the train and mouse books. What two do you want?
Me: But MOM! I promised me the dump truck book, the pigeon book and the monster book. We have to keep our promises!

- AND- VICTORY! Seriously, isn't that the cutest thing you've ever heard, "I promised me." Man, I'm good. And, you guessed it, we read 5 books. As we do for most story times...

Soccer- by Josiah

Today I went to my first soccer practice. It was AWESOME!

It started so well. First, I completely bailed on my nap. Mom was a little worried about getting there on time- she signed us up a little earlier than she probably would have normally, but she wanted me to be in the same group as our neighbor Tyler. Tyler has to go earlier because Tyler doesn't nap anymore (genius!) and goes to bed about 2 hours earlier than I do (sucker!) But Mom agreed to this time, saying maybe I could go ahead and drop my nap once a week! WHAT?!? The queen of sleep is giving me a pass on a nap?!? Once a week?!? Remind me to buy Tyler a nice present...

AND we got to leave Gabby at home with Grandma. I guess Mom has wised up to the fact that Gabby does not follow directions very well. Like if you tell her, "Gabby don't run on that field!" she's pretty much going to figure out how to run on the field as soon as she possibly can. Normally I kinda resent the fact that she's so disobedient, because I don't always think Mom calls her on it. Seriously, she gets away with murder. But this time it's come back to bite her in the patoot- she doesn't get to come to soccer with me. Just me and Mom. And Mom isn't even going to bring a book or talk on her phone, I asked! She's actually going to sit and just watch me! (Mom says weird things like, "Isn't 6 hours a day of uninterrupted attention enough for you, can I please have just a few minutes to myself???" and it's getting a little old...)

So we got there, and Mom talked to this lady and I started kicking around this ball like these other kids were doing. Then this Coach person called us over and said we're going to "warm up." So we played Red Light, Green Light and practiced running on the field lines. She picked me to go first. Probably because I was holding a ball. I don't know what was wrong with those other kids, but no one else brought their ball to warm up. Uh, dummies, it's soccer, which is played with a soccer ball. Maybe you should have one... I tired to help lead by example, and I carried my ball just like Dad's been teaching me. All over the field, back and forth, I held that ball for all to see. I'm thinking my teammates maybe aren't that bright because none of them caught on and picked up a ball. Oh well, you have to work with what you've got, I guess.

Then we did these other things that were called drills, which is basically standing around waiting for someone to say, "Okay, it's your turn! No, over here! Get closer! Don't use your hands! Just your feet! Good job!" I didn't really listen much or pay attention, because it was clear these people have no standards. Every single one of us kids did something completely different, and they all said, "Good job!" each time. Yeah, that's helpful. If you're not going to be specific about what I should do, I'm just gonna do what I want. It's worked so far in life.

At the end, we played a game, and that was the BEST. I got this great yellow mesh thing that could fit Mom, and the Coach person gave three more to three other kids. I was told they are my team. (Which is a bit confusing, because I thought all 8 kids were my team. But it's okay, I won't remember this tomorrow...) We were then given the ball and told to try to kick it into one of those goal things. I guess the other 4 kids without the yellow shirts were going to try to stop us. Yeah, let them try! That Coach person kept saying "Pass!" which I remembered from one of our drills meant kick it to someone else. Well, I looked for the other three yellow mesh shirt things. One boy and girl were practicing their dinosaur yells, because we chose T-Rexes as our team name. That's important, so I didn't want to bother them. The other yellow shirt girl was sitting in the grass crying about something. So it was just me. So I kicked the ball and ran. And you know what happened?!? Some kid without a yellow shirt took the ball from me! Can you believe that?

Well, they obviously haven't met my dad. He's taught me to tackle, and to "Cover the loose ball!!!" So, that's what I did. I laid myself out across that ball until they stopped kicking it. Then I picked it up, and ran with it to my goal. I put it down right in front and kicked it in! GOAL! I was awesome. And all because I PRACTICED! Remember how in warm-ups, I was the only one carrying a ball? Yep, that's why I was ready. I'm sure if any of the other kids had thought to work on their ball skills, they might have had a chance. But, well, they'll learn.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying being the star of my new soccer team. I scored 5 goals today. Maybe if I don't bother to waste any time kicking the ball at all, I can do 10 next week... Something to think about...

Car Trips- Josiah

I love cars.

I love riding in cars, because then I can look at other cars. And talk about them. About every single car I see. I am very good at telling my mom the color of every car, if it's a Mustang or not, if it has a spoiler, race car wheels or a snow plow on front... And if I don't know something about a car, I ask Mom. I mean, any little thing about any little car I see, I ask Mom. You'd be surprised at how little Mom knows about cars. I think sometimes I make her feel bad about herself, because she doesn't seem to even try any more. I actually think I hear her say "I don't know Josiah" before I finish the questions. And then she'll turn on some music and ask me to sing. But I persist. Because, as bad as I feel for hurting Mom's feelings, it's important for her to see her weaknesses, and see them as an opportunity for growth.

To make things worse, I've noticed that Mom also seems to be struggling with some of her time-management skills. Not so much that she's late or disorganized (although I think that's probably true, too...) but more that she seems to have lost her basic understanding of time. I mean, does she not understand what "soon" really means? For example, if I say, "Are we there yet?" she should not say "Soon!" unless she is the process of turning off the car and getting me out. Basic, right? But Mom will say, "Soon!" and then keep driving! I might take two or three breaths, and she's still not parked! She's still not releasing me from the prison of my car seat! But I'm a forgiving person, so I like to give her another chance. So I'll ask her again, and she says "Soon!" again and you know what- I take three more breaths and she's STILL DRIVING! We keep doing this, because, you know, I WANT my Mom to be okay, I want her to have a chance to get it right. I know she'll feel better about herself when she finally says, "Soon!" and it really is soon.

But you know what she told me today? That when I ask "Are we there yet?" that it SLOWS THE CAR DOWN! I know, right? That's horrible! I am just so worried about her. Because, you know I can't stop asking her about it. If I stopped, she'd never get better! But, well, if the car's slower, that means I end up asking more! Poor Mom! She's just slapped in the face with her shortcomings all day long. She did tell me that if I was quiet, the car would speed back up. This is good news- I just started whispering "Are we there yet?" It's a little more work, so I have to say it twice as often. But I figure out we'll pretty much break even there. Mom's so lucky that I take such good care of her.

Naps- Josiah and Gabrielle

J- So, this will be our first time trying to write a post together, we'll see how this goes. Gabby's thoughts will be in intalics from here on out, right Gabby?

G- It's my turn, I'm really mad at you. This was my idea for a blogging topic and you just stole it from me. Like you always do. Like you take away everything that's ever brought me joy. Just like those little toys you call Legos. I don't know what they are for, and I don't actually enjoy them at all except to put them in my mouth, but you always, ALWAYS, take them from me. And does Mom do anything about that at all? NO! NEVER! It's always, "Thank you, Josiah, those pieces aren't safe for Gabby, let's go put them somewhere so she doesn't get hurt." Yes, thank you, evil queen of ruining all things even remotely fun or interesting. Act like it's for MY benefit. You know you wouldn't even care at all except you think someone else will find out you let me play with them. Just like how I used to get to climb on the couch...

J- Okay, Okay, Gabs? I think we got it. I'm sorry you feel I've stolen your idea. Would you like to type first, then? We're talking about naps...?

G- Yeah, Dummy, I KNOW we're talking about naps, it was my idea, remember? Just because you're 16 months older than me and I'm still in diapers doesn't mean I'm stupid. Girls develop before boys, REMEMBER? Sheesh, am I going to have to put up with this my whole life? "Josiah, help your sister, show her how, she doesn't understand..." Oh I understand, crazy lady who talks in that pretend sweet voice when she really wants to scream until her eyeballs pop out. I get it. You're trying to hold me back. You know that I will be the better woman some day and you are just determined that I never can be. It's YOUR fault I have to put up with this, why didn't you just have me first. You get nothing right...

J- Um, Gabby? I'm really, uh, enjoying what you have to say, and it's very well written. But, well, um, were you going to talk about naps? Because, uh, it's no big deal, I'll just change the title...

G- Oh, so now my title's not good enough either? What are you, some sort of expert? What exactly do you know about titles? HMMM?!?!? Stop looking at me with those obnoxiously big blue eyes that everyone always raves about while completely ignoring my much more interesting eyes that change colors. ANSWER ME?

J- Um, I don't remember the question...?

G- I. SAID. WHAT. DO. YOU. KNOW. ABOUT. TITLES.

J- Nothing, really. We'll name this whatever you want. I'm sorry.

G- Okay, thanks.

J- Okay, good. So now, do you want to talk about naps now? I mean, you actually skipped yours today in preparation for talking about this. So I think it would be a good time to dig in. Gabby? Gabs? Hey, Gabrielle?

G- ZZZZZZZZZZZZ.....

Dinosaurs- by Josiah

This month, I have discovered dinosaurs. I am so excited, I can barely contain myself...

See, dinosaurs are perfect for little 3-year old boys like me. They are loud. They are big. They break things. They make messes, and then they can say, "Hey, it was an accident, I'm a big awkward dinosaur, sometimes I can't help myself." This, in my world, is perfect. Just today I knocked over the tower Gabby was building. She cried, but I said, "Sorry Gabby, it was an accident, I was being a dinosaur." Mom thought that was "so cute" so she soothed Gabby rather than making me apologize again and give her a hug. That was pretty cool. So I tried it again. Just so you know, that really only works a few times- after try number 7 Mom said it was time to sit and do something quiet. But, hey, I still get away with it at least once a day.

I have been working really hard on my dinosaur growl. Without sounding like a braggart- it's quite good. Granted, I've never actually heard a dinosaur. But I'm thinking that if there were two things a dinosaur growl could do it would be 1) to make a little sister cry and 2) to give moms headaches. Judging by the responses in our house, I have those two criteria down pat. I can't tell you how many times a day Mom says, "Josiah, please, can we try to only be a dinosaur when we are outside?" or "Josiah, Gabby is using her words and saying 'no,' I don't think she wants to be chased by a growling dinosaur right now." If those aren't ringing indorsements of my skills, I don't know what is.

Oh, and I found this great book at the library about dinosaurs. Because they are featuring dinosaurs this month, there weren't many. But I found this wonderful 50 page reference manual with words and ideas WAY over my head. I begged Mom to get it and checked it out myself. I have NO idea what it's talking about, and I barely listen when she reads it. But it takes her, like, 30 minutes to get through it, especially because I interrupt her and describe all the pictures. Wrongly. And I use "why?" a whole lot, which seems to frustrate Mom because, well, I don't think she knows. THIS has got to be my best nap-stalling coup yet...

Overall, I'm enjoying this new phase. I've asked Mom to make me a dinosaur for Halloween. I've also asked to be a giant excavator, a back-hoe loader and a tiger. It's fun to keep her guessing...