And so it begins...

Last Thursday night Chase ran from the back of the house into the kitchen with a dramatic announcement. He has a mustache. Now, what he really has is the fuzz that every other person has on their upper lip. He insisted his was getting darker though and couldn't we see it? He then proceded to manuver his head around to try and catch the light just so. I finally admitted seeing "something" so the child would go to bed. Fast forward to Saturday when the family was preparing to head to the Mexican restaraunt. Chase comes from changing clothes into the living room with a look that can only be described as a mix of triumph and mischief. I immediately smell Chris' cologne. Yep, my nine year old was wearing Victoria's Secret's Very Sexy for Men. The next morning while getting ready for church he and his Dad argued over using the hair gel and once again I had a very good smelling son. Monday, being Monday, Chase barely managed to get out the door clothed much less go through his new grooming techniques. Alas, today though when I called for load up out ran Chase hair gelled into a faux hawk and smelling, you guessed it, Very Sexy. What the heck, two weeks ago I couldn't get the kid to take a bath!!! I am managing not to despair too much about this new found sense of maturity because Chase has taken to calling himself "Kid Cologne". As long as there is still "kid" in the title, I guess I will manage.

No One Likes Homework, but This is Ridiculous

I pulled Chase's homework folder out of his backpack last night to find this as his assignment. I immediately laughed until I cried. Fortunately, Chase was at soccer practice. Most parent's might be angry and alarmed at this, but I was certain it was just a spelling error. Chase is pretty sheltered at his little Christian school and is a notoriously bad speller. Sure enough, when he got home and I asked him what his reading homework was he said a "reading sheet".

The funny thing is his teacher checks to make sure they have written their assignments down, and has signed off on his paper. She has a great sense of humor so I sent her a funny note and am looking forward to her response.

I guess it is only a matter of time before I have to worry about language like this used on purpose. He is definitely getting bolder using "fart" instead of our preferred "toot". And then passionately arguing there is nothing wrong with that. I told you he was sheltered. He has also been nonchalantly throwing around the correct term for the male anatomy. It is incredibly hard to keep a straight face when your child is telling you that penis is a "biological term". I finally explained that, biology aside, it isn't a term you randomly bring up in conversation. And the adventures in the rearing of boys continues...

I Have it in Writing.

Noel is officially potty trained! I say officially because it is now on the potty chart at daycare. He has been doing a great job going to the potty for the last two and a half weeks. All it took, was peer pressure. His best friend is the other child who is potty trained on the chart. The week he came to school in big boy underwear, Noel demanded to start wearing it too. It was as easy as that. He is still sleeping in a diaper at night, and wakes up wet about half the time. I can live with that. So far we have had to pull over on the side of the road once and made Chase late for school once, but I suppose that is a fair trade to be finished with diaper duty.

The really strange thing is, unless Chris has a major change of heart or God totally intervenes, I may be done with diapers for good. I can't decide how I feel about that. Not the literal diapers part, but the fact I may never have another baby. Noel makes it very clear he is a "big boy" even if I am just lovingly calling him my baby. However, I am not so sure how he would truly feel about having that position usurped. The truth is, it is not mine to worry about, and I am sure God is shaking is head at me after teaching me that so clearly 3 or so years ago. So, for now I will enjoy my big boys and my respite from purchasing and changing diapers.