Rules of the Road

I don many hats nowadays...Maid, Chef (I use that title very loosely), Boo-Boo-Kisser...and Taxi Driver, just to name a few. Ben is in the car a lot with me, and I have to say that it has tamed the road-rager in me...for the most part. I've let a few honks slip--but never an f-bomb--and Ben inquisitively asks why I did that, so I'm forced to tell the truth: "Because that silly man made a bad choice and went through a red light." Recently, he's caught on that these types of traffic violations are dangerous--and he even thinks that the police should somehow be involved. At first I was impressed with his good-citizen attitude on the road, but now...well, it seems like we have a little goody-two-shoes on our hands...and in our backseat.

Last Friday night, we headed out to pick up Ben's birthday cake before his Monkey Joe's party the next morning. We were on our way back home after the quick errand, and since I haven't been feeling well, I have been behind the wheel when we take family car-rides--yes, I still get carsick in the front seat.

We came upon a turn, and the light was greenish-turning-yellow, so of course I didn't stop. Heck, this is Florida--it could have been yellowish-already-red and "people" still go. I turned through the yellow light and heard a shocked little *gasp* coming from the backseat.

"Mommy!" Ben said, with his eyes wider than headlights. "That light was not green!"

I explained to him that I knew that, but that the yellow light just meant that there was a little bit of time before it turned red--I fought the urge to bestow my 'green-means-go-but-yellow-means-go-faster' motto upon his impressionable mind.

Apparently, that wasn't a satisfying explanation. "Mommy, we need to call the police."

Are you kidding me, kid? (Brad's stifling laughter at this point, not helping whatsoever in the situation.) I just looked at him in the rearview mirror and told him that since it wasn't an emergency, we didn't need to bother the police.

"Oh," he said. "Well, that was a bad choice."

He even reminded both me and Brad the next day that I had driven through that yellow light.

"Memember when you went through that yellow light, Mommy? That was a not good choice."

Yes, I memember. I just hope he memembers all this when he starts taking drivers' ed...

Bearing Gifts...

Well, we're in the homestretch, folks! Entering Week #36 meant entering full-on nesting mode. Even Ben seems to have caught the gotta-get-ready-for-baby bug...and I think it's the cutest thing ever.

We were really conscious about how Ben would react to all the changes going on. After moving him into his new room and repainting his old room and filling it up with new girly things, we fully expected there to be a relapse on his part...and luckily, there wasn't much of one. Sure, he took one look at the baby's new pink shag rug and said, with arms crossed, "I wanna be a girl!" Other than that, it's been OK...but there have been sweet moments that have blown me--and my hormonal emotions--out of the water.

The first occurred when I took Ben with me to get some pre-fall Christmas outlet shopping done--yes, this was back in August. Anyway, there we were in BabyGap and Ben asked to get out of the stroller. (Sidenote: Yes, it might seem a little strange that he's still riding in a stroller, but a) I use it more as a cart for pushing all my bags and b) sometimes you just gotta resort to buckling the kid into the cage on wheels.) Anyway, back to the story...he asked to get out. He walks away for a little bit and comes back with an adorable pair of gray and pink baby yoga pants! He proudly holds them up and asks, "Mommy? Can we get these for Baby Woosie?" ?!?! Are you kidding me with this cuteness?? YES! Of course we can!! But wait...there's more. He holds up the other hand in which he has the matching hoodie. [Insert AWHH! here.] He was so proud of himself...and so was I.

The next occurrence took place this past Sunday. I haven't been feeling extremely well--hello--and I just couldn't make it up and at 'em for the 9am mass. So, Brad took Ben and when they got home, Ben had a gift bag from one of my new favorite places: Tugboat and the Bird. (An adorable little children's boutique that Brad wishes had never moved onto Park Ave.) Ben runs over to the couch where I was beached--I mean, laying--and says "Mommy! We got Woosie a present!!" He rips out the tissue paper and pulls out this:

Pinky the Rat Poodle Thing. It is so soft...but man, is it ugly. Brad said "I tried to talk him out of it..." I started crying--literally bawling. Ben looked at me like What is your problem, lady? and I'm pretty sure that Brad knew to chalk it up to the hormones. I just told him that I was crying because I was so happy...and he gave me a hug.

I wasn't shedding tears because I'm afraid that this stuffed pink creature could give our newborn nightmares, of course, but because Ben is genuinely excited about having Baby Woosie around. And if he chooses to show this excitement by picking out weird-looking plush poodles, then bring on a litter of 'em.