Family Stuff

I feel the need to document the latest on my little Rigby.  I've mentioned before that he is a man of order.  He lines his cars up in straight lines.  Of all the kids, he most appreciates when the house is clean and everything is in its proper place.  Just yesterday, he asked me to hang a shirt for him on his closet rod, which he can't reach.  It was an orange shirt, and he specified to me that it should be hung with his other orange shirts.  Then he picked up a white shirt to hang and directed that it should be hung only on a white hanger.  I do like a clean house, but no one around here taught him to color code his wardrobe.  That's all him.

When he potty trained at Thanksgiving time, I kept telling him that he is "the man" and other phrases like "You're a man now!"  He has taken this to heart.  He goes through periods of time where he wants to be referred to as "Man."  If I call for "Rigby," he will ignore me for a bit and then say, "Call me 'Man.'"  This is more than just a name change for him.  He is applying what he believes that it means to be a man.  "Mans are tough," he will say, or he'll lift something big (although not heavy) and grunt and say, "Look at me, Mom!  I'm strong because I'm a man now!"

He also thinks that men like broccoli, a veggie he previously refused to eat.  I admit that this is working in my favor.  At the grocery store, he specifically asks for it, saying, "mmm... my favorite!"  When I am making dinner, he will ask if I am making broccoli for him.  Yesterday, I brought a chicken braid (dough braided around a chicken/veggie/dill/cheesish filling) to the table, and he asked if I had put broccoli in it for him.  Later when it was on his plate, he loudly thanked me for the broccoli, scooped it up, and put it in his mouth.  His expression was priceless.  The brave smile as he chewed could not hide the disgust.

Rigby has a bit of a history of whining and crying in an attempt to get his way.  Today he told Nick and I, separately, that he was never going to cry again, because he is a man.  I hope that works.  If he gives it the same effort as he gives broccoli, he will be cured.

A family is a wonderful thing.

What would a post be without a picture or two?  Here is our stroller after a trip to Costco.  Getting from our parking spot to our door always involves the stroller, as we go through several doors and two elevators on the journey.  All you moms out there, be grateful for your adjoining garage.  I cannot make multiple (or any at all) trips to the car without kids.  There would be no way to get our groceries home without this beauty:

Can you even see the stroller buried under all that?  Oh, do I get the looks as I take this parade to our one bedroom apartment.

Or maybe she gets the looks.  But she's used to it.


(PS - You'll never guess where our San Fran adventures are taking us tomorrow.  Go ahead; try.  You'll really never guess.)