Callum and the Potty

Whenever the opportunity arises, like any time he is changing, Callum feels the need to stick his penis out the top of his underwear and/or pants/pajama bottoms/swim trunks and then draw attention to it. Even though the rest of us are totally desensitized to this particular brand of humor, Callum cannot be convinced it is anything less than pure comedic gold that bears repeating no less than twice daily.

You would think a kid like that would pee on a damn tree.

At the park:
C: "I have to pee!"
Mom: "Okay, let's go water that tree way over there."
C: "No, I need a potty."
Mom: "But you can pee on a tree just like a bear!"
C, with total utter confusion and sadness: "But Mom, I am not a bear. I am a human."
C, as we hike to the car, and I'm racking my brain for the nearest restroom while loading four children and all their crap: "Hurry, please."

He cannot be convinced. I have tried, and tried. And tried.

Yay for teenagers who can escort their younger siblings in while you park the car. Fifteen minutes later I am approaching the nearest grocery store bathroom, located at the far end of produce, just past the double doors leading to the stockroom. Halfway through the store I can see that not only are the stockroom doors open, so is the bathroom door, with a perfectly framed side view of Callum: pants on the floor, hands on hips supporting his back, pelvis thrust forward, streaming arch of pee.

Right as I was face-palming my damn self a male employee walking by chuckled and tapped the door shut.

No, you're totally right Callum, peeing on a tree on the far end of the park where no one can see would be madness.

Literally Olive

Me: It's going to be a long summer for both of us if you continue to treat Callum like that.
Her: The length of summer isn't going to change because of what I do or don't do.

Callum's Out for the Summer

Callum's teacher sent home a big package of gum in their end of the year buckets. Callum ate (swallowed) the entire package (minus 3 pieces Olive talked him out of) in two minutes flat.

Welcome to summer vacay, bitches!

Three Amigos

Last summer Callum's girlfriend (cutie in the necklace) moved into our neighborhood. Yay! Now their partner is crime's family is attempting to do the same. If these three all end of at the same school next year for kinder...WATCH OUT.

Olive on Brothers

Driving their remote controlled cars through your hair when you're reading on the floor.

Oh dear, clueless Callum.

Violet on Shoes

(Jason on Violet on shoes: "She's Charo.")

Callum is Almost Five

Good things (eventually) come to those who (are forced to) wait.

Callum on Passing Gas, and Blame

"Be 'scuse me! Who was that?"

Callum the Artist

At Callum's parent teacher conference a few months ago we heard, again, how his flair for the fancy keeps him from completing projects in the time allotted.

Example: A simple, stay in the lines coloring page. Use a color or two to complete the picture. You've got 5 minutes.

Callum: Use all the colors available. Make meticulous alternating patterns of zig zags, stripes, polka dots, and unique intricacies. Are there letters or numbers involved? Bubble that shit.

Jason and I are like...uh...yeah...he kinda gets that from us, BOTH of us. So does at least one other kid. Then there's another other kid who, like, couldn't be any farther from this problem. Who knows about the fourth.

So we are supposed to be working on rushing, which, eye roll, preschool. Yes, we get it, or maybe we don't, because if the 4 year old wants to go above and beyond and is willing to finish it at home, well kinda seems like a #Problemnotproblem.

So, voilà, Callum's (sloppy) rush job, limit two colors. (Because nobody tells baby he can't make bubble letters at home.)



(Also, please note teacher's fancy letters top left.)