KISS

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Julia’s friend had a birthday party and everyone was supposed to dress up like rockstars. The whole idea was inspired by Hannah Montana and Julia is not a fan. So, I suggested we paint her face like the band KISS. She, of course, has no idea who KISS is, but went along with the idea anyway. I asked Julia what her friends thought of her face painting and she said, “Well, the adults all seemed to like it.”

The boys felt left out, so we painted their faces as well. Conrad wanted a blonde beard. We couldn’t talk him out of it.
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Mixed Up Little Dude

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I walk by as Claire is helping Conrad put his shoes on…

Claire: “That shoe goes on the other foot.”

Conrad: “No, it doesn’t!”

I assume this all got resolved until, later in the day, I notice Conrad’s shoes are on the wrong foot. The problem is, last time Conrad was over at his friend’s house with his shoes on the wrong foot, the friend’s parents teased me for it. So, this post is to let them know that I’m not to blame this time.

…a few hours later…

Claire: “Conrad, are your pants on backwards?”

Conrad: “No, they’re not!”

His little pockets were inside out (as they always are) and sticking out his rear end. So, just a little wrap up: The kid’s shoes were on the wrong foot, his pants were on backwards, and his pockets were inside out. It’s a good thing he’s funny.

Santa

We stop at a light and Conrad says, “I see Santa’s car.” Claire and I look at each other, completely puzzled….then we look at the car next to us. It’s a silver sedan — doesn’t make any sense. Then we look at the driver in the car next to us — an older gentleman with a big white beard. Claire thought it would be rude to take a picture of him. Sorry.

Conrad’s Contractions (Not the Baby Kind)

Conrad has been speaking more efficiently lately. “What if” is “wha-f” which sounds like what a dog would say. “Liked it” has been shortened to “like-ud.”

He is also making some things longer. Baba Fet is baba-the-fet (we figure it’s a combination of Jaba the Hut and Baba Fet). In fact, I am now papa-the fet and Claire is mama-the-fet. Oh yeah, and McDonalds is Old McDonalds.

Counting with Conrad

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We were teaching the kids to jump off of the diving board. I would sit on some kind of flotation device below the diving board, waiting to catch them until they felt comfortable doing it on their own. In order to move things along, I would try and count to three. Weston and Julia both stopped me and told me they wanted to do the counting. I guess it’s a control thing.

Then it was Conrad’s turn. Once again I tried to count, and once again he wished to do the counting…and he began: 1, 2, 3…(one would expect him to jump at this point)… 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16….(He missed a couple but kept going)…17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23……(Everyone is now watching, wondering)….24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30…(Rich is wondering how high he will go and is no longer ready to catch anybody)…31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, thirty nnnniiiiiiiiiinnnnne…and he jumps.

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Happy Birthday

No, it’s not my birthday.

Claire came out of Conrad’s room one night, rolled her eyes, and said, “Happy birthday. Now good night!” I asked Claire why she wished him a happy birthday. It turns out she was simply returning the good wishes. Conrad had wished her a happy birthday….and since that unbirthday, each night, Conrad wishes us a happy birthday before bed. I suspect he knows it’s not anyone’s birthday because he says it with a wry smile. To demonstrate Conrad’s influence in the family, before bed, we all now say, “Good night. Happy birthday.” Good night, Weston. Happy birthday. Good night, Julia. Happy birthday. Good night, Claire. Happy birthday.