Me: That would be awesome, sweetie, but it’s just a machine.

Ian: No, it’s not. It’s a robot.

Me: Okay. We can pretend it is.

Ian: But it makes toast all by itself, Mommy. Why? Why isn’t it a robot?

Me: uhh…

I actually had to google the difference between a robot and a machine. The answer? A robot’s function is determined by its programming. A machine’s function is mechanical. So, since we cannot reprogram the toaster and have it produce, say, pottery, pizza, or eggs, ergo it is not a robot. He seemed satisfied with that answer, and I didn’t get the “Mommy is an idiot” face during any of the ensuing discussion about robots vs. toasters, so I guess we’ll put this one in the “win” column, next to “What’s God?” and “Who’s Barbie?”

“Mommy, YOU’RE A STUPID DUMMY!”

Now, this is not a first. Apparently 4 year olds are prone to this, and one of his teachers tells me that some cartoons intended for this age group use this language quite liberally. But we’ve had MANY “positive” conversations about how these are words that can hurt.

And my boy is not a mean boy. He is a sweet boy who becomes distressed when others are upset. He is a child who says, “It’s okay, Keeghan, you don’t have to cry, we’re right here. Shhh…. it’s okay!”

He is a boy who values friendships. But he’s also a boy who thinks “STUPID” and “DUMMY” sound hilarious. And as my mother said, “Nobody wants their kid to be THAT kid.”

So, one minute before school started, and the “That Kid” control was turned up to 11. So we had a moment of what I call “Shock and Awe” parenting.

I told Ian that he would have to go home and spend the afternoon in his room if he didn’t stop. And to prove my point, we were walking toward the car at the time.

The subsequent meltdown in the middle of the building made me feel like The Worst Mommy on Earth. Like I was Picking On My Baby. Nobody wants to make their child miserable, but the other horn of this dilemma is to let my child think making other people’s children feel horrible is okay. Or to hope “someone else” will teach him that it’s not. And this, most certainly, is where bullies are made. Because the longer a child is permitted to think this is funny, the funnier it will be. And for sure, the day that he realizes he is bigger than me is not the day to try and impress upon him that, however funny, hurting others is not okay. (Even though sometimes WE DO WISH IT WERE when we are angry.)

How about you- are you willing to die on this mountain? Because I think I did. And I think I’ll be doing it as often as necessary. Rinse. Repeat.

Mind you, I DID make it from whole milk. Wow, is it good! I’ll be trying lowfat and skim milk in the near future. WOW!

(If you’ve just come in, you can find the recipe I used here. It uses your crock pot and it couldn’t be easier.)

I tasted it and I can say I’d happily eat it exactly as it came out. I also plan to try it once I’ve drained it and added fruit.

In the mean time, the whole house smells like vanilla.

I’m trying out this recipe for home made yogurt.

There should be enough for dinner tonight, and Chicken Fried Rice tomorrow.

This morning’s new behavior is pulling up, turning around, and trying to let go. So I strongly suspect him of staying up all night trying to walk. A little overly ambitious for an 8.5 month old in my opinion, but them’s the breaks.

We had a pretty full plate this weekend, so I thought hard before I responded to the offer for this love seat on freecycle. Picking up a large item like this can be quite a time investment, but we really needed to make a change in the study. And the offerer wasn’t far away, so I went for it.

Well, didn’t it just turn out that we couldn’t QUITE get it on the roof rack! And didn’t the very nice people who were giving it away decide that the husband would drive it to our place, where he also helped bring it in? If you ever hear me say that Freecycle restores my faith in humanity, know that this is what I mean.

Getting the seven foot couch we were replacing to the curb was all on us, though. We had quite the adventure in Ways to Get A Couch Stuck In Our House. Nope, you cannot get a 7 foot couch out our front door. Nope, nope, nope! Out the back door where, for the first time that day, you’ll be glad the ground is covered with ice? Yep!

I suggested we just right it, put the cushions back on, and leave it out back as a way of completing the generally unkempt appearance of our yard, but after scratching his head and appearing to take that suggestion seriously, 007 forged ahead and we got it out to the curb. If someone takes it before trash day, more power to them, but I seriously don’t consider it worth the effort of trying to give it away.

The new piece fits in a lot better, and, other than prompting me to want to rearrange the entire room for the second time this month, it’s definitely for the better.