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Our little triathlete
 This weekend Christopher became the second triathlete in our household when he competed in the Hill Country Kids' Triathlon. I *highly* recommend this race if you've got a kiddo who'd like to try something like this. The race director is awesome, the volunteers were wonderful, the course was great, and the distances are manageable even if a kiddo is still using training wheels.
Here's Christopher before the race, setting up his gear in the bike transition area:
Even though Christopher is 6, the USAT rules determine one's age by how old one will be on the last day of the year. So, Christopher competed in the 7-8 age group rather than the 5-6, which meant a 100m swim instead of just 25m. He and I went to the neighborhood pool a few times to make sure he could swim the distance. He could.
But wow, I was so amazed how he just blazed through the 4 lengths of the pool without stopping for a breather, and was out of the water after about 4 minutes. Here he is warming up for the swim:
Here he is shivering, after the 'warm-up', before the race start:
And here's him starting the race. They stagger the start so the kids don't jump on top of each other:
Here is our little tough guy in the transition area, getting his gear on. We weren't allowed to help him, but a volunteer helped him double-knot his shoes.
Because the bike portion was much farther than Christopher had ever ridden alone before (2.5 miles) Frank ran behind him. Several other parents did the same thing. We were really proud of him for riding his big boy bike, after only a couple days of knowing how to brake right and start by himself.
Here he is coming into the transition area again, after the completing the bike section.
Here he is about 20 yards before finishing the race (1k, or .6 miles) with a time of just over 35 minutes. He's clearly tired, but determined.
Here's the champ cooling off after the race:
And just for good measure, here he is calling Uncle Scott to tell him about the race, and to brag that he did a triathlon before Scott did:
The rest of the day was hilarious. Christopher kept asking for special treats & privileges, reminding us that, "Well, I am a triathlete." He can't wait for his next one (the Pirates Triathlon, at the end of September).Labels: Hill Country Kids Triathlon, our little
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Our little punner
 A couple of weeks ago when he had to get up really early for a swim meet, he was whining for a long time about how eeeeeeearly it was and how he didn't want to beeeeeee there. When I told him I only wanted to hear positive things coming out of his mouth, he told me "I'm positive I don't want to be here." I had to laugh even though his attitude was irritating.
Yesterday, I quizzed him about Harry Potter, asking him who Harry's friends were. He said, "Ron?" and then had trouble coming up with another name. When I prompted him with, "Her........" he replied, "Monica!" Yes, folks. Her-monica.
And today, he said, "If you're tired and then you take a nap and then you get tired again, you're re-tired!"
They're definitely age-appropriate jokes, but I love that he likes to play with words like his goofy mom.Labels: our little
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F-plus?
 Christopher let us in on a little-known fact about grades today:
"When you get an F-plus, it means that the only thing you're good at is failing."
We laughed so hard I'm surprised we didn't drive off the road. THAT would've deserved an F-plus.Labels: f-plus, our little
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Our Little Comedian, again
Well, tonight marks the first time I was set up for a joke by our son.
At bedtime, he rolled over next to me and, while playing with my hair, in a sweet voice asked me to sing him Rock-a-Bye Baby.
Awwwww, I thought, what a sweetheart!!
So I started singing the song to him and noticed he was rocking slightly with the words. He looked peaceful, with a smile that could only - at the time - be described as serene.
All was right with the world. I was comforted that my son still needed to be sung to once in a while. He wasn't really growing up as fast as I'd feared. I heard a choir of angels singing along with me. It was a beautiful moment.
When I got to When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall...
The little punk dear rolled himself abruptly off the bed and screamed aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
And then laughed for several minutes. At his mom.
At his mom who loved him.
At his mom who loved him and appreciated a good joke, even if she was unwittingly set up by a 6 year-old who knew her weakness for cute little darlings who play with her hair.Labels: our little
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Our little artist
The assignment: make a bug, with all buggy parts identifiable.
The result:
And finally, a portrait of the artist:
Though I do think that picture screams for this:
This project was really fun, and the fun was only somewhat diminished by the fact that we totally forgot about the project (despite Outlook reminders for both "parents") until Christopher remembered on Monday morning , about 7 minutes before it was due. We had to apologize to the teacher and promise to turn it in the next day. In the end, she said it was no big deal and that the due date was just approximate, but at the time Christopher seemed disappointed that he'd be turning it in late. As evidence, this statement: "I guess I'll just have to turn it in late. When I get to school there will probably be 18 little bugs there. But not mine." Fantastic. I'm new at this, but I'm guessing it's not good when the parents are the cause of their child's work being turned in late. He should be allowed that honor himself. It all worked out in the end, and Christopher constructed quite a lovely queen ant. Hooray for happy endings! This proud parenting moment was brought to you courtesy of running/biking, parties, errands and early-onset Alzheimer's.
Labels: our little
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Our Little Buckaroo
I love that I just happened upon this picture in Christopher's backpack. They've been studying Texas at school for a couple of weeks, and he's been spouting off facts ever since they started: state tree (pecan, or buh-con as Christopher puts it), state bird (mockingbird) and so on.
Apparently, outlaws are now part of the curriculum as well.
Update: this weekend while in France, Frank made us proud by using this picture to reinforce stereotypes. Check it out.Labels: our little
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Our Little Politician
In the car on our way to swimming class:
C: is reading very important?
Me: extremely! It's one of the most important things!
C: what if a driver was reading a book & not paying attention & the light turned green & everyone honked & got mad & hit them?
Me:......
Me: honey, reading is important...it's just that -
C: see? Reading's not that important.
Well, he's about as advanced as many of the Debate I students I used to have. When given the debate topic, oh, say......whether capital punishment is immoral, a typical Debate I student might say that because executing innocent people is immoral, then necessarily capital punishment must be immoral. It's the typical use an extreme example to prove the rule strategy.
As much as it made me roll my eyes (inside. Not outside. What kind of teacher do you think I was?) back then, today it sort of impressed me that my 6 year-old was capable of such clever logical fallacies.
Perhaps he will be a politician? A lawyer? A bigot?
It will be fun to find out. Unless he turns out to be a bigot. Because that would suck.Labels: our little
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Our little comedian
Tonight at bedtime Christopher was hilarious, both intentionally and unintentionally.
As a stall tactic he pulled out his Al Capone/gangster accent which he knows always makes me laugh. He was saying, "Watch yourself, eh?" and "You'll never take me alive, see?" Seeing his little mouth twist to the side and hearing that voice kills me every time. I'll try to get it on tape tomorrow.
Next he told me a story of his recess activities, which he didn't mean to be funny but cracked me up anyway.
C: Today on the playground we were playing Camp Lazlo (one of his favorite shows).
Me: Who was?
C: Me, J and R. J was Lazlo, R was Raj and I was Clam. I was even talking like him. It was so funny.
Me: That sounds funny!
C: Yeah, and did you know Billy (of tuxedo tee fame) was Scout Master Lumpus (bad guy)?
Me: Really?
C: Yeah so we were all running away from him.
Me: Do you think he felt badly?
C: Nah, I don’t even think he knew what we were playing so he just started yelling (growly voice) “WHERE IS THE DEATH STAR?!”
I guess it's sort of important to the punch line to know that Billy is REALLY into Star Wars. The fact that he sized up the situation, realized he had no idea what was going on, and decided to march triumphantly to his own drumbeat just made me laugh.
And laugh.
And of course, Christopher seized upon my laughter to get me with his "Where's the Death Star, Copper?" and then we were both rolling.
Good times.Labels: our little
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