Little Man's 3rd birthday and party was Saturday. Periodic showers didn't keep us inside (thank dog), so the kids ran around the backyard chasing the 5,000 balls we bought. We were blessed with a weekend-long visit from my Mom, and tons of friends at the party (including
Marisa and
Nina et al). For the first time, Little Man understood that it was
his party, and I was moved nearly to tears by his expressions of joy.
In crafty news, I'm still working on the
Puma quilt. As expected, I accomplished VERY little this weekend, so I'm feeling a little panicky about it. I even forgot to have my Mom try on the
Poncho I'm knitting for her. Silly Mafia!
In other panicky news, Wifey is in LA for a few days, so I'm responsible for Little Man care and shuttling. When I dropped him off at daycare this morning, I had the following interaction:
Curious 3yoGirl: Hi.
Mafia (holding Little Man): Good Morning.
Girl: Are you Little Man's Mommy?
Mafia: Yes.
Girl: Where's his Daddy?
Mafia: Uh ... he doesn't have a Daddy.
Girl: His Daddy's at work?
Mafia: Well, no ... he doesn't have a Daddy. He has two Mommies.
Girl (clearly confused): Oh, you're his Mommy and his Daddy's at work?
Mafia: Nope, I'm his Mommy. He doesn't have a Daddy. He has another Mommy. He has two Mommies.
Girl: Two Mommies?
Mafia: Yep.
A Different Girl: I have ONE Mommy!
Mafia: That's great. Little Man has two Mommies.
Both: Whoah ...
At this point, I managed to
run sneak away. It was TOO early in the morning to deal with the politics and potential fall-out of this conversation. Little Man is the only kid in the school with gay parents. The town is notoriously conservative. Parents might complain. I fear the worst. And of course, this HAD to happen when
I was doing drop off. eek!
To prove that Little Man is growing up too fast for the Mafia to handle, here's a road trip conversation between Little Man and Adge (my 16 year old sister in law), while I was pumping gas:
Little Man: Damn!
Adge: What did you say?
Little Man: Damn! Mommy and Mama say that.
Dear lord, I spend a ridiculous amount of time protecting him from Disney movies, merchandized clothes and war toys, and it's ME that's warping his little brain. Crap!
Yeah, he said "crap" recently too. It was the same day that produced a very dramatic "Oh.My.God!" I can't imagine where he get's that from. I've switched to "Oh My Goodness," but I feel like a flaming ninny.