%&**@^#!!

I love Zach's age right now. The positives FAR outweigh the negatives.
Things I love:

• When you take his clothes off he grabs his junk, yells, "I NAKED!" Then says, "Uh oh...no pee pee on da carpet...pee pee! Pee Pee!" Then he runs to the toilet and goes. Then asks Mommy to go, too. This morning we talked about how mommy has to sit down because mommy doesn't have a penis...
• He's able to communicate almost 100% with me. Sometimes it takes a bit to translate "ahfdkhkaenn hdkahdehn" into "I played with blocks at preschool", but I can figure it out almost always.
• He asks when he needs help.
• He helps me all the time, cooking, picking up stuff, sticking paci's in babies mouths, etc.
• He LOVES on his brothers.
• We have a hug-kiss-high five-fist bump routine in the morning when he leaves for preschool.

There are some challenging times, of course. The usual no-listening moments. The usual climbing moments. The usual cursing like a sailor moments...him, not me.

The other day, he's playing in the other room and I think I hear him say, "Stupid!" I say to Jeff, "Did he just say stupid?" No, I'm told. He says it again a few seconds later and I ask him if he just said "stupid". He looks at me proudly and says, "Yes!!"

Greeeaaat. He must have learned it at preschool. So, I sit down with him and explain that it's a bad word, we don't use that word in our house, that word hurts people's feelings, etc. Of course, I'm thinking I'm being too verbose about the whole thing with him and should I have ignored it and what do all those stupid parenting magazines say to do...second guessing is FUN!

So, Jeff comes back from the park with him a while later and says, "Your son has learned another word at preschool." Zach, as if on cue, yells (very articulately, I might add) "G*d Dammit!" Uh-oh. Stupid is one thing, G-D is a whole other playing field. So, of course I quickly and firmly say, "NO! We don't say that word! That's a bad word, I don't want to hear that word come out of your mouth again!" Again, probably all the wrong things. I'm probably not supposed to make a big deal of it and I'm probably NOT supposed to do exactly what I just did. For the record, Zach tells me he learned the word from James at preschool. That brought back to mind that wonderful scene in "A Christmas Story" where Ralphie drops the F-bomb and his mothers asks where he heard it. When he tells her it was from a friend up the street, she calls the friends mom and tells her and then listens as the mother beats her son bloody...haha...I love that scene.

Well, to add to the story, the other day Jeff was trying to get me to go somewhere and after the 47th time of him asking if I'd go, I said, "What the hell??" ABout 20 seconds later Zach says, "What the hell, mom?" Clear as day. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiccccccceeeeeee.

I did have to turn my head because I was about to lose it...to see your adorable 2.5 year old stand there and look at you with those cute curls and big blue eyes and say, "What the hell, Mom?" It was too much.

And yes, I collected my Mom-of-the-Year award at the end of the day.