The Deken Zoo

Tonight Ryan told Daddy that he got two stars at school today.  He seemed so excited that Daddy had to ask why he got them.  Ryan proudly announced that he got them for cleaning up – picking up the big blocks and the cars.  Daddy was very proud.

Ryan also stated rather matter-of-factly that he also got two checkmarks today.   We weren’t sure what that was all about, so Daddy asked.  Apparently Ryan received his checkmarks for not listening and not cleaning up.  Wow.  All I can say is they sure are tough in preschool.

I tried to find out what happens when you get too many checkmarks.  In my fifth grade class, if you got your name on the board it was a warning, but a checkmark by your name and you had to copy dictionary words.  Yes, the dreaded dictionary words – where you choose one word beginning with each letter (25 total, since you get to skip X) and write its pronunciation, full definition and all variants.  (I hated that assignment, but since my 5th grade teacher was also my cousins’ uncle, I had to grin and bear it.)

When you get too many checkmarks at Ryan’s school, however, the punishment is quite astonishing.  Ryan looked Stephen straight in the eye and said, “When you get three checkmarks, you have to go upstairs to the little babies’ room and change their poopy diapers!”

Oh my!  (A complete fabrication, but disturbing nonetheless!)

Today, everyone was upstairs cleaning or pretending to clean: Michelle was vacuuming; I was putting sheets on the kids’ beds; Ryan and Alyssa were chasing each other and the dogs through the house. On the whole, a pretty ordinary scene for our crazy house.

At some point, I realized that Ryan had disappeared, so I wandered downstairs to investigate. I found Ryan sitting in his chair at the table, with a glass (real glass) full of chocolate milk.

Chocolate milk that he did not have when we went upstairs.

The following conversation ensued:

Me: “Ryan, what are you doing?”
Ryan: “Drinking chocolate milk.”
Me: “I see that.  Whose glass is that?”
Ryan: “Mommy’s.”
Me: “Did it have chocolate milk in it?”
Ryan: “No…!  It had regular milk.”
Me: “Where did you get the chocolate?”
Ryan: “Over here.”

He hops down out of his chair, walks over to the cabinet, and takes out the powdered Nesquik we have in there.

Me: “I see.  How did you put it in the milk?”
Ryan: “With a spoon.”
Me: “From where?”

He looks at me as if to say “are you really this thick?”, but then he walks over to the silverware drawer and opens it up.

Ryan: “From here.”
Me: “Well, where is it now?”

A pause.  Ryan closes the silverware drawer.

Ryan: “In here.”

He motions at the dishwasher with his thumb.

My three-year-old son had mixed himself a glass of chocolate milk without spilling anything, without making a mess, without putting too much powder in, and has even gone so far as to clean up after himself.  If he had been left to his own devices for even a minute longer, I wouldn’t have known that he’d even done it.

My kids: they never cease to amaze me.

Side note: When I related this story to Michelle, I used the word ‘toddle’ when I explained how Ryan moved from one place to another.  Michelle pointed out that Ryan does not ‘toddle’ anywhere any more.  Which is true.  He’s a big guy, and I keep forgetting that.

When Ryan was two, he saw a mouse I had with “hp” on it, and, switching the p, he said the mouse had a “little 9″ on it.  He decided then that there had to be a “little 9″ store where we could find more things with little 9′s. 

After that, he decided that there must be a “store” for everything.  If we needed more toilet paper, he said we should go to the “toilet paper store.”  If we needed cereal, we had to go to the “cereal store.”

We have a favorite local eatery for pizza called Stefanina’s.  It’s very close to our house and we pass it a lot when we go shopping.  This is The Pizza Store.  Ryan loves The Pizza Store.  (He’s like his dad – he just loves pizza.)  He’ll point it out when we’re driving around.  Frequently when we pick the kids up from daycare, Ryan will ask if we can go to The Pizza Store.  He’s a pizza kid.

Tonight, Stephen decided to take the little ones to a different Pizza Store – one  that has games for the kids and is really cheap.  So I’m sitting here writing this all alone on a Saturday night, with the dogs snoring at my feet and a fire roaring in the fireplace. 

I don’t know what I did to deserve such a treat, but I’m grateful.  And the kids were hopping up and down with excitement knowing they were going to visit The Pizza Store.  I’m sure they’re having a great time.  I’m just not so sure about Stephen…