Pelvic Thrust

Sacha, my youngest child, is a slip of a thing--he is 3-1/2, and just hit 30 pounds a month ago--but he is mightily strong for, as my grandfather would have said, such a skinny malinx.

He is also one of the most willful forces of nature I have yet to encounter, and I know from strong-willed children. Sacha is the child who has famously yelled at David or myself, on more than one occasion, GIVE ME BACK MY POOP! because was morally offended that we've had the temerity to clean his soiled bottom when he was not in the mood for this.

Like all children of this age, he will sometimes resist being buckled into his car seat. And like all reasonable mothers, I consider this a non-negotiable item. So I occasionally have to resort to groin stabilization in order to accomplish this task. Usually my hand will suffice, but one day this week, he was particularly spoiling for a fight, and was bucking so mightily that I had to use my knee (gently, I promise!) to stabilize him while buckling.

As I once again marveled at how this small child can muster so much strength, I couldn't help but muse that his admirable pelvic thrusting abilities will hopefully, one day, make some woman, (or man) extremely happy.

some people have NO sense of humor

Yesterday afternoon I was running errands with my boys, and we stopped at Stew Leonard's for beer.

It was a bit more busy than is usual, this being Memorial Day weekend, with people gearing up for the start of the OFFICIAL SUMMER DRINKING SEASON. (As opposed to Thanksgiving, the start of the OFFICIAL WINTER DRINKING SEASON.)

As a promotion, there was an inflatable bear at the door, courtesy of Saranac. He looked a bit like a squat Smokey the Bear, and he was holding a beer in one hand. Sacha, being a toddler, couldn't resist interacting with the bear, and at one point, he even put the beer bottle in his mouth, which I thought was pretty funny. (The incongruity, NOT the underage drinking! Although perhaps the use of small, cuddly creatures to sell beer, in some small way, condones underage drinking? Just a thought.) The grandparents may not have appreciated the humor in this, but David, and my friends sure would have!

I fumbled to grab my phone and take a picture, but by that point, the moment had passed.

So on our way out, I took out my phone in advance, prepared the camera, and let boys linger in the hopes of getting a good shot. Sacha starting talking to the bear, gently punching him, and laughing at his own jokes. It was really quite amusing. At which point, an employee came running out and screamed, "Sweetheart, PLEASE BE CAREFUL! DON'T BREAK THE BEAR!"

This bear was about the height of a toddler; it very much resembled an inflatable punching clown. It was perfect for smacking around. How could a three-year old resist?

But being the astute reader of people that I am, I immediately understood this passive-aggressive jibe at my parenting, hung my head in shame, and moved on to the car.

And that is why I have no funny picture to show you.