In the Name of All Things Fierce and Brave

Introducing... (drum roll, please)...

Superman Tucker

and Tyler the Dragon.

A most dynamic duo, I assure you.

These two left no candy uncollected, no doorbell untouched, and no neighbor without a proper thank you and a "Happy Halloween."

~~

When we arrived next door at our neighbor's home, after they collected their candy and said their thank you's, Tyler said, "Oh, and when I go poop in the potty like a big boy, I'll wear Mickey Mouse underwear like Tucker and we'll go to Chuck E Cheese."

Who really expects to hear so much from the green dragon at the door? Well, there you go. And his little story earned him some extra candy, for the bonus details.

~~

Across the street, I spotted a couple of darling princesses. "Oh, guys! Look at those Cinderellas!"

Tucker responded, "Yes, but they don't have penises."

(Indeed, they do not. I know that doesn't come with the costume.)

(And apparently even Halloween is not above such comparisons.)

~~

And now the two heroes are tucked in bed with a stellar sugar high...

and I need to go see what chocolate remains for the only Cinderella in the house.

Happy Halloween, from the Fierce and the Brave.
And their Mom.

On the Day You Were Born...

We just finished reading a not-so-spooky Halloween bedtime story about a monster who is looking for her mommy, and at the end of the story, she finds her in the broom closet and they can both stop roaming around at night, since they are finally together with a sweet, monster reunion of mother and child.

Tyler said, "She found her baby?"

"Yep. She found her baby. And who is my baby?"

"Me. I grew in your tummy," Tyler answered, from rote memorization.

Tucker chimed in, "And me too. I grew in your tummy, too."

I suddenly realized that I haven't told either of them about the day they were born, and it's certainly time to start instilling that story into their sweet little heads. Since Tyler was back to browsing the monster book, I chose to tell Tucker's story first.

"That's right, Tuck. You grew in my tummy, and when you were finally ready to come out, the doctor gave me a special medicine so it wouldn't hurt, and he cut a hole in my tummy to take you out."

"Why did he cut a hole?" he asked, and I silently thanked God for the easier explanation of childbirth: C-section.

"Because you were ready to be born, and the doctor had to help you come out. And you know what came out first? Your bottom!" (The whole reason for the C-section, Mr. Settle My Bottom Into Mommy's Pelvis, Instead of My Head.)

Giggle, giggle, giggle.

"Yep. Your bottom came out first, and then the doctor tugged on you until your legs popped up. Like springs. Boing!"

Giggle.

"And then the doctor kept tugging, and finally your arms and your head came out too. And the nurses very carefully carried you over to a special table with lights. They looked so closely at you, to make sure you had everything you needed, and Mommy listened and listened. I couldn't wait to hear you cry. And finally you did, and I cried too because I loved the sound of you."

He listened with rapt attention.

"And you know what? You peed all over everybody - even on Daddy!"

Oh, dear heavens, the giggles. Giggle, giggle, giggle.

"And the nurses wrapped you in a soft, warm blanket, and they handed you to Daddy. He carried you to me, and he said, 'Look, Mommy. It's Tucker!' And I cried and cried, because I was so, so, so happy that you were born."

Tucker smiled, snuggled into a hug, and together we basked in a great parenting moment.

And just before I kissed him good night, he said, "Mommy, can you tell me that story again? When I peed all over everybody?"

And that's his shining detail of it all.

Yes, I'll tell it again. Good thing I love that story... and the similar story that happened twenty months later. Healthy, active newborn kidneys and all.

I love Hotel Rooms.

I love the novelty, the service, and the clean, crisp sheets. I love extra pillows and blankets. I love a continental breakfast, fresh towels, and someone else to do everything. I love the idea of a night away at a 'home away from home.'

What I do not especially love is putting two little boys to bed who are not accustomed to sharing one. I could not stop the craziness, so I decided to document it.

Finally, a hard-sought victory.

(And we'll stick with bunkbeds at home.)

Room to Grow

"Mommy, Daddy called you my mother," Tuck said, incredulously.

"Well, that's because I am. I am your mother."

"No, you're not. You have to grow up a really lot to be a mother. You're still a mommy."

A fine distinction. I'm pretty sure he's the one who has to grow up 'a really lot' to think of me as his mother. I'm content with being a mommy for quite a long while, actually.