Eliot realizes once again that everyone around him is stupid.

Steve and Blue were discussing orange juice on the T.V. They explained it from the start to finish. "First you plant a seed. Then you water your plant. The plant grows into an orange tree. Then you pick the oranges and squeeze them into a glass. Then you have orange juice."
Eliot listened to the whole explanation then turned to me and scrunched up his forehead. "Well, you can get it from any store!"

how to ride a bicycle properly

When I picked Eliot up from school last Friday he told me that he got to ride bicycles at school that day. “Oh! That’s great!” I said. “Did you wear your helmet?”

“We have lots of helmets, not just mine.”

“Ok… well, did you wear A helmet?”

“We don’t have any A helmets.”

(getting exasperated) “Did you or did you not have a helmet on when you rode the bicycle??”

(remaining calm) “The teachers won’t let you ride a bicycle without a helmet.”

“So then, YES, the answer is YES!!”

“Calm down, Mommy.”

And that’s when my head exploded.

Halloween 2007

You might remember Eliot's first Halloween - where he was ONLY the cutest pirate ever to sail the seven seas. Well, this year, after much thought, he decided to be a pirate again. He started off wanting to be Spiderman. But he really didn't like how the mask came down over his entire face. That made him a little claustrophobic, I think. I'm not really sure how he decided on the pirate, but he certainly pulled it off with all the cuteness of his first year. Pictures can be seen in the gallery.

We had a lot of fun trick or treating this year. Eliot really "got" the concept. We trod up and down the street, knocking on every door with a light on. By the end of the cul-de-sac, Eliot was so tired that he rang the doorbell and just sat on the porch, waiting for the door to open. He held up his bucket and said, "Trick or treat," but with much less enthusiasm. Then he turned to me and said, "Okay, Mommy, I have enough candy. I'm ready to go home."

it's all part of the job

I somehow made Eliot angry on Sunday. I’m not sure what I did, but it probably involved one of the following: telling him to do something, telling him not to do something, asking him a question more than one time or refusing to answer a question for the hundredth time. So he sat in the floor next to me with a piece of paper and a pencil. “How do you spell ‘mean’?”

I spelled it out for him, “M… E… A… N…”

He wrote each letter across the page. Then he picked up his paper, stood up and said, “I know how to spell ‘Mommy’!” and stormed away. I think it’s good that he’s writing out his feelings. I like to think of this as journaling for three year olds.