Wonderfully Random Tristan

It really is amazing to see what distinct personalities your children have. Shannon came into this world like a ball of fire. Tristan has always been more mellow. Very mellow.

*When we would go through grocery stores Tristan, riding shot-gun in the cart, would throw his head back and look at the lights. He'd stare and say "whoa......." really drawn out. ~ It was funny. We never turn a lot of lights on at the house so we figured he was just impressed.



*When he was still learning to talk, Tristan's first full sentence was "I want a cracker." This eventually got shortened down to "I want crack." That's really funny until you have to go through a grocery store, trying to hold your head up and not die, with a toddler sobbing and screaming "I WANT CRACK!!"



*Sitting around the kitchen table one evening, I hear someone kicking the table. I look at Shannon and tell him to quit it. Shannon looks at Justin who then looks at Tristan. We're all now looking at Tristan, who is off in his own world yet all the while still kicking the table. I snap "TRISTAN!!" and he jumps and with a shock replies "What, I didn't pee!!"



*Both boys are musical but it is Tristan who remembers songs. Of course he doesn't always remember the correct lyrics. First it was Tom Waits. They love his song 'Big in Japan' & they call him/it the 'Silly Man Music.' I didn't think anything of it until, again in a grocery store, Tristan starts singing it, mimicking Tom Waits' voice quite well, and singing "Hey but I'm big in your pants, I'm big in your pants..."Then it was them walking in while I was listening to the Beastie Boys. Tristan walks of singing "NO .. SLEEP .. TILL BROCCOLI!!!" ~ I am seriously going to put that on a shirt!



*The other evening, a weekend evening, Justin ran an errand really quickly. It had been a holiday weekend so Justin had been home from work for several days before said weekend. Justin comes home from running the errand, walks through the door and is greeted by Tristan asking "Daddy, are you home from work now?"



*We used to get milk delivered, and the milkman still comes by every Monday morning to bring us cheese and other items of our choosing. He usually is here around 10:30am. That evening, around 5:30PM Justin's father stopped by to drop something off. He was only here a minute but he did make sure to say hi to the boys. Several minutes pass. Tristan walks to the front door and starts asking "Is the milkman here now??" Although he stated it clearly enough from the beginning, I am in disbelief and have to get him to repeat it. I reply "no" and Tristan just blankly says "oh" and walks off.

Things Said This Morning

A very quick little blog here. Sometimes your kids just throw several good ones at you as soon as the day starts. Like when your three year old, sitting on top of your legs while watching some morning cartoons in your bed, tells you "Mommy, I have a web in my nose!" ~ Translation: his nose is still stopped up and full of boogers & snot from his cold.

This morning we were getting ready to go get the boys' hair cut. Temperatures were in the low 60's two days ago (last week the ground was covered in several inches of snow) but today it is only supposed to be 39 and their is a light wintry mix coming down. Go figure.
Shannon wanted to wear his yellow jacket, which is nice and warm, just not a snow jacket. No problem. ~ Quick side note - bright yellow jackets ROCK! They make your kids so easy to spot when out and about. It is now my goal to always try and find yellow jackets. ~
We have an antique wardrobe in the front room which we use as a closet for jackets, storing gloves & hats on a shelf on the bottom, as well as snow-bibs and etc. Shannon's yellow jacket was in there. I got it down, he put it on and announced "We got my yellow jacket out of the litter closet!" I'm guessing he maybe meant 'linen' closet but he said 'litter' ... and I wondered how much of a difference there really was in this case.
He zipped up his jacket and then snapped all the buttons. As we were walking out the door he informed me "I'm as warm as a bud!" He then walked all the way to the car telling Tristan how he was as warm as a bud, with Tristan repeating it back to him. Here I'm guessing this is a variation of 'snug as a bug' but, really, that is just my guess. Are buds warm?

We managed to survive haircuts very well. The boys did good, so I was proud. Tristan still has his long hair, but it has some layers in there now which I hope will help his hair thicken up. Shannon's mop is another story. In the summer, when the air is humid, his hair curls into ringlets. No joke, it's friggin' adorable. In the winter, when the air is dry, his hair transforms into this wild mop of a head. Untameable beast of red pseudo curls that is now 1/2 straight.
I made the mistake of letting Tristan go first this morning. This is only a mistake because I then told her to basically cut Shannon's hair like Tristans: trim it up some, leave the overall length, add layers. Shannon's hair does not do well with short layers up top. *REPEAT TO SELF - Shannon's hair does not do well nor look good with short layers up top!!!*
Right now he looks like a cross between Lyle Lovett and a weird mullet. I seem to remember having a similar problem last winter. Sorry kiddo. But fear not, Mama made sure to right it down on the stylist's card this time!

Now we're home and things are back to normal, despite having a miniature Lyle Lovett in the sunroom playing.
Tristan comes running into the kitchen to tell me he has to go poop. Apparently I HAVE to be there for this. I've learned not to dilly-dally when he gets like this. We go proceed to the bathroom.
He gets up there, he poops. No big deal. He then looks up at me and says "Mommy, my penis is ALL OUT of pee."
Guess he was trying to pee too and didn't actually need to since he had gone while we were at the hair stylists.

I need to end this now. Lyle Lovett has transformed into a King Kong sort of beast, roaring at Tristan, and then going into very dramatic sobs. Tristan has transformed into a very cute but none-the-less irritating Godzilla, stomping around on Shannon's (I mean Lyle's) train tracks.
And life at the circus continues on.

Milk Musings

For the majority of Tristan's life (3 1/2 years now - just to give you a time frame) we've drank raw milk. When that is unavailable, we get the next best thing: milk from the local diary "Homestead Creamery." We get it delivered, making it a little fresher than what is in the stores, and we always get the Whole Creamline milk - meaning it is pasteurized but not homogenized.

Shannon as of lately has decided that he doesn't like "cream milk." Sometimes you'll get a chunk, for lack of better or more descriptive adjectives, of cream in the milk that just won't seem to blend in well. The longer you let un-homogenized milk sit, the more the cream and milk separate. If Shannon even thinks he sees cream an alarm system goes off and we all seek immediate, underground shelter. .......
No, not really. But anyone who's dealt with children's sudden absolutes about food knows the ensuing havoc caused by not adhering to their eating mandates, whether the fault was real or perceived. Tristan it is black beans, broccoli, ranch dressing and onions; Shannon it is cream. Heaven forbid there be good-for-you cream in that there milk!

Tristan, is another matter, as siblings usually are. It was with great amusement this morning that I heard him exclaim that there was cream in his milk. And there was. I had noticed a big glob of it go into his glass last night (don't worry, the glass was in the fridge overnight!! geez - you worry-warts, you!!). I told him it was good for him and to drink it.
Then I heard him announce that he was eating it. OK. He is drinking out of a tall, child-sized, Tervis Tumbler. A tall, narrow plastic cup basically. First I start hearing the noises. For those of you who know me, you know I can't stand "mouth noises." Tristan was reaching his little hands way down into the cup, scraping up some cream on his fingers and eating it. Like the determination to get the last little bit of ice cream or milkshake out of a cup. Relishing in the deliciousness of it. I handled it for a minute or so before I couldn't take it anymore.
I told him to drink it, and was informed that it wouldn't come out! So ... I went and got a long teaspoon and scooped the rest out and let him have at the spoon. I then began cleaning out the cup.

For those of you who've never had raw or creamline milk, clean-up is a little different. The milk clings to glasses and cups, the cream even more so. Warm-to-hot water is a requirement to get it off, as is a little rubbing with a sponge.

While I was cleaning his cup, Tristan announced he wanted water. I told him he could have milk. Then I told him that he could have milk with his lunch.
I'll end this with his reply, his way of saying he wanted the milk right then and there, not later.

"I want milk without my lunch!"