Self-Defense for Everyone!

The other day after I got home from work, I went upstairs to change clothes. I took Liam with me so Josh could start getting dinner ready. Zachary decided to come too. When we got to the bedroom, I put Liam on the bed and found some clothes to change into. Meanwhile, Zachary had found my white shorts on the floor. He picked them up, and here’s how the conversation went:

Z: Are these my karate clothes?
Me: No, they’re my shorts. Besides, you don’t have karate clothes.
Z: But I need karate clothes!
Me: No you don’t – you don’t take karate…
Z: But big boys and girls like to do karate!
Me: OK, but right now you are not doing karate. When it’s time to sign up for things at school, we can talk about what you want to do this year, like karate, Tumblebus, or Play Ball. (NOTE: these are some of the activities they offer at his school, for an extra fee, of course…he did Tumblebus last year)
Z: But I need to do karate so I can have karate clothes.

Hmmm…is clothing a good enough reason to sign a kid up for karate? If he’s going to choose his activities based on the clothes, maybe I should do some research on the stylishness of each activity’s outfits before we make a decision…I guess karate clothes aren't that bad, but I would need to decide whether I could get over him wearing white pants after Labor Day...

Last night with dinner we made these little small potatoes that we put butter & garlic on. The last few times we’ve had potatoes this way, Zachary doesn’t seem to be a big fan (he loved mashed potatoes, or fries, but doesn’t seem to like them just boiled or roasted). He put his tongue on the first bite of potato and said it was hot (they weren’t hot – they had long since cooled off). We tried convincing him that they weren’t hot, to no avail. He had decided he wasn't going to eat them. Then he told Josh “Daddy, you can take these with you to work tomorrow if you want.” Really?? Thanks!!

Liam is getting to be kind of a bully. Last night I was carrying him around and in a matter of about one minute, he grabbed a fistful of hair from my neck (like, ones that were not caught up in my ponytail) and then ripped them out. This was followed by a right hook to the side of my face. Shortly after that, he leaned over and spit up on my shirt. Super! And he did all of this with a huge smile on his face (don’t know if I should be worried about that or not…). Despite the pain, it’s hard not to smile back when he gives you that giant wide-open-mouth smile.