RB's hidden artist

While messing around with photoshop, RB discovered a way to overlay pictures. So here is a cool collage that he put together. Although he'll deny it to his death, he definitely has an artist's eye for photography. This was from the NYC trip with Uncle Willie.

A day in the life of Calvin...

As many of you already know, Calvin is never wrong, never intimidated, and never gives up until he gets his way. Not a big surprise looking at his dad I suppose, but it still never ceases to amaze me that it all starts this young. Just to give you a glimpse of what I am blessed to experience everyday, here are a few excerpts from some of Calvin's conversations on Wednesday:

[driving to violin lessons]
"Oooh mommy, look at that Porsche. You need to beat him."
"Calvin, that car is actually called a Mercedes but yes, it is very fast."
"No mom. Actually it IS a Porsche."
"No Calvin, see the emblem? That means it's a Mercedes."
[Thoughtful pause]
"Mommy in Dutch we say PORSCHE. In English we say
that other thing. Can you say PORSCHE, mommy?"
"Porsche"
"Good."

[during his first violin lesson with about 10 older students and their parents]
"Excuse me teacher, but where is my violin?"

"Well Calvin, first you must practice on your pretend one for

a little while, then you will get a violin of your very own."

"Well, can I just borrow yours for a second?"
....
"Alright, now it's time to perform solos. Calvin, since you haven't
learned a song on your violin yet, why don't you show us how to
bow?"
[awkward squat/bow]
"And now I would like to sing a song."
"Oh, alright. What song would you like to sing?"
"Ummm, how about Baby Shark?"
[Then proceeds to ad lib lyrics to his new song "Baby Shark" while a red-faced mommy stares in unbelief]

[way past bedtime in mommy and daddy's bed while RB is on call]
"Mommy, it's not bedtime, it's time to play, play, play. I just want to play all the time."
"I know Calvin, but it's almost midnight. You need to go to sleep now."
....
"Mommy, there's a hurting in my tummy. I need some food."
"Sorry Calvin, it's not time to eat right now. It's time to go to sleep."
.....
"Sooo hungry."
[thrashing around in bed]
"hungry, hungry,..."
[more thrashing]
....
"Mommy my little tummy is so sick for food. Do you see how it's squishy?"
[trying to suck in his very round belly]
"That means it needs more food."
[I sigh, defeated, trying to suppress my laughter]
"Fine Calvin. I'll go get you one string cheese. But that's it."
[Calvin does his best puppy dog eyes]
"Not cheddar cheese?"
"Fine. One piece of cheddar cheese. Then you'd better go to sleep."
[now confident]
"Good. I want one big square piece. Not round mommy, and no broken corners and..."

I'm sure I should be concerned about how much power this three year-old wields in our home. The thing is, I don't realize exactly how much control I've lost until I find that it's past midnight and I am in the kitchen trying to cut a perfectly square piece of cheddar cheese.

I'm nervous to find out what tricks innocent Bubba Noah has up his tight little sleeves.