Mommy, what is sake?

For a brief moment I thought that Jack was a genius. I thought that he'd seen Japanese Sake and had sounded it out! At two! And we didn't even buy those "Your Baby Can Read" DVDs that we were so tempted by when Jack was a wee little pip of a thing. How exciting! 


Then I decided to ask a question... "What do you mean, 'sake'?"  My child looked at me as if I was, perhaps, the least intelligent being to walk upright. Ever. And he replied, "sake Mommy. Be good for goodness sake. What is sake?"

Jack: 1, Mommy: 0... he's still a friggin' genius.

Au voir for now, Trixie

Trixie, our Elf-on-the-Shelf with a past (exotic dancer? prostitute? we don't know, she he isn't talking), headed back to the North Pole last night. I'm not going to lie, it was a little sad. Over the last month Jack has become quite attached to the little guy (for the purposes of this post and my husband's psyche we'll refer to Trixie as a boy elf, but to me he seems a bit, um, feminine, but anyway...) 


Every morning Jack's come to ask, oh so inquisitively, "Where's Trixie?" and the search begins! We scurry around the house trying to find him (not so tough given that we've identified that there are a precious few good hiding spaces in our home). On the not-so-rare occasion where Jack isn't exactly being an angel, we give a quick glance to Trixie and, at least some of the time, his halo, albeit often tarnished and dinged, reappears. But alas, it is time for Trixie to head back to her, eh, his home with Santa in the Elf Village at the North Pole. We read the book about Trixie last night, we blew him a kiss and said good-bye, and there was a tear, or maybe two, that fell from our appreciative eyes. Until next year, Trixie.

Merry Christmas to YOU Mommy

There's something magical about your child understanding Christmas for the first time. Now, when I say understanding Christmas I don't mean the whole Christ and manger and wise men and Jesus thing; I mean the whole being naughty or nice, Santa and believing thing. Magical I'll tell you. This was Jack's year. He understood, for the most part, that Santa was going to pay attention to whether he was a good boy or a bad boy. Now, there's comedy in that because on several occasions I'd say things like "how was your day?" and Jack would reply "I was a good boy today. Santa likes good boys." Me: "That's great, but Jack, Mommy and Daddy likes good boys too! You should be good because Mommy and Daddy like it when your good." Jack: "Um, Mommy, I good cause Santa likes good boys." Well alrighty then! 


Which leads me to this post.. There's nothing like looking into your son's eyes and saying "Merry Christmas, Jack" and having him reply, "Merry Christmas to you, Mommy" with more sincerity than I thought possible from a 2 (almost 3) year old. Maybe it's because he was trying to be good for Santa, maybe it's because the season of magic is affecting him, maybe it's because he's the best kid ever... or maybe, just maybe, it's because we're doing an ok job.