Recently in Jude Category

Jude, Karenna, and I were deciding where to go for dinner.  Karenna wanted to go to Red Lobster to order crab legs and see the lobster tank.  "Noooo! I don't want to go there. I don't want to eat a lobster, "Jude vehemently disagreed. 

I assumed it was because he was being sensitive about eating things that were once alive.  Ever since he's been hanging out at Aunt Cathie's playing with her pets (a pig, a duck, a turtle, and a bunny), he has been very adamant about not eating animals.  I pointed out that he eats chicken, turkey, hamburgers, and hot dogs, but this only led him to refine his rule.  "Okay, we can eat those," he conceded, "but we can't eat animals if they were people's pets and they have a name."

When Karenna said she wanted to hunt, Jude refined the rule more, "We don't shoot our food with guns.  We can buy it at the store."  When I told him that the meat he eats at stores is killed also, he told me, "Well, if someone on a farm or in a store kills it, that is fine.  But we, the people in this family, don't shoot animals."

So initially I assumed that his hang-up with Red Lobster was with eating something that was once alive, but I found out that there more to it when I told him he didn't have to eat a lobster.  "I'm afraid of lobsters," he told me, "Lobsters eat people."  Every time we tried to set the record straight, Jude would stop us.  "You're going to give me nightmares about lobsters. Please stop!"

When we realized he was getting too worked up over this, we finally gave up and and made another suggestion, "How about Applebees?"

His eyes got wide as he gave us a look of sheer terror, "Are there bees there?"

Crayon Gourmet

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The other night, Chris made orzo with spinach, mushrooms, carrots, garlic, and feta.  Jude didn't eat his, so tonight we gave him the plate we wrapped up as leftovers.

"Do I have to eat this?" he asked. "I don't like spinach."

"You have to try it," Chris told him.

"You have to try something forty times before you can say you don't like it," I said.  This is from an article I read in a parenting magazine years ago.  It takes up to forty tries to acquire a taste for new foods.

"How much do I have to eat before I can have a banana?" he asked.

We divided the food up and showed him what portion he had to try.

"Jude, you're making yourself think you don't like it.  You've already decided so your brain is telling you that you don't.," I told him.

"That's not true. My brain doesn't tell me anything. Brains don't talk!"

We were getting frustrated and so was he.  Since adult logic wasn't working, I thought I'd try kid logic, "Jude, you mean to tell me that out of all the stuff you put in your mouth, you don't like spinach.  You eat crayons! Now, you can't mean that daddy's spinach and orzo is any worse than crayons."

"Gee thanks," Chris interjected. "What a compliment.  'Daddy's orzo is better than eating crayons.'"

"It is not better than crayons.  Crayons taste good," Jude replied. "Except for the brown ones; they taste awful."

Yesterday we happened to show up at Barnes and Noble around story time.  Following the story, they had an activity in the form of a little memory game he could color in and cut out.

As with most of his games, Jude made up his own convoluted rules for it, and I was pretty much unsure of any move I made when it was my turn.  Finally, I got a bit exasperated and said, "Jude, you messing with my head, buddy."

He looked at me, and exclaimed, incredulously, "I'm not messing with your head; I'm challenging it!"

I was worried about how Jude would do in Kindergarten, so when Kindercamp began, I wasn't expecting perfect behavior.  He started to tell me stories about this bad boy who called the teachers "Stupid Girls", told people to "shut up" and kicked.

"Who is this boy?  What is his name?" I asked, hoping he wasn't telling me stories of things he had done.

"Stick," he told me.

"Are you sure that's his name.  Jude are you sure he's real?  You're not just making him up, are you? Is Stick pretend?" I asked hoping he hadn't invented an imaginary friend to take the blame for something he did.

"No," Jude showed his frustration.  His voice was raised and his eyes got big.  "He's real!  His name is stick."

The next day he said, "Mom, I was wrong.  His name's not Stick; it's... um... um... I forget.  But it's not Stick."

We now refer to him as The Boy Who Is Not Stick.  I just hope when he points him out to me, he says, "that's the boy who's not Stick," instead of "that's the bad boy".

After Jude's birthday and Jude's party, Jude started to think that every day was his special day.  There was Jude's pre-k graduation, Jude's first day of kindercamp, and Jude's first day of tee-ball.  He loved telling everyone, "You have to be nice to me because today is my special day."

Finally when there was a day that didn't seem so special, Jude asked Chris, "Daddy will you tell my teacher that it's my special day and everyone should be nice?"

"Jude, it's not your special day anymore," Chris said, "bit everyone should be nice to everyone else everyday."

"I had a whole bunch of shots.  It's my special day."

They agreed to tell the teacher he had 5 shots and his arm was sore.

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