Quotes from My Five-Year-Old

“Look at my eyeballs. They are so cute”

This is a direct quote from my five-year-old. For the full effect, imagine a spunky little dude staring up with his eyes bulging and brows extended to the hairline. My son is that crazy combination of too big for his britches, yet still my little man. Kindergarten is on the horizon for this guy. He is ready and I am sort of ready. Whenever I get sad about him growing up, I remind myself that the public needs to know my preschooler. In addition to adorable eyeballs, he also has a vivacious personality. My daughters think his spirit animal would be somewhere between a porcupine and chimpanzee.

This age of child is fun. It is also tiring and frustrating. Five-year-olds come with so many demands and nonsensical attitudes. I mean, there is nothing cute about eyeballs…yet, my son’s corneas and scleras are pretty darling.

“Sometimes I pee so hard that I toot.”

The play-by-play of my son’s time in the bathroom is always very well documented. Not only do preschoolers seem to prefer to keep the door open while using the potty, they also like to have an audience. To each their own, but this unabandoned behavior can be enlightening.

I love the post-toddler age because it is a time when kids are oblivious, blunt, and extremely literal. Simultaneously, these attributes also have the potential to make my head hurt. Finding the balance is such a tricky part of parenting. Sure, I could do without all of the potty humor and bathroom exploits. Then again, these antics make me laugh, and laughter is good for me and the masses.

“His snoring sounded like a gopher with crayons stuck up his nose.”

Oh, the things we learn about sleepovers at the grandparent’s house. I always expect some tattle tailing from siblings, but it is really funny when adults also get thrown under the bus by their grandchildren.

The honesty and animation of my son is so pure that in between fits of giggles I also recognize it as heartwarming. All of my children have had moments of “too much honesty”. I remember when my oldest was in preschool and going through a strict truth telling phase. I was zipping up her coat before heading outdoors and complimented her on how pretty she looked. Her response was “Your breath smells.” (In my defense, I had just had a piece of peanut butter toast.) My other daughter is always sure to let me know when my hair looks bad or if an outfit is unflattering. Sometimes I get a bit miffed, but usually I can acknowledge that I am better for knowing the truth.

Maybe teaching my five-year-old and the rest of the kiddos to have a softer approach to brutal honesty should be my parenting focus. For example, instead of comparing a person’s snoring to Punxsutawney Phil my son could be a bit more delicate. He could simply say the bedtime breathing was a bit loud or slip a few articles about CPAP machines under the snorer’s pillow.

As much as it makes me cringe, I also have respect for brutal honesty. Telling it straight can help alleviate a lot of headaches and miscommunication.

“Do you want to be a bird?”

This is not really a quote, but more of a dialogue scene from my five-year-old’s life. It is priceless and I just had to share.

My son asked his preschool classmate if she wanted to be a bird after she dies and goes to heaven. He also asked her if she would tell Jesus that message. The little girl responded “Yes” to both leading questions. My son then proceeded to tell her, “That’s too bad because birds carry poop in their mouths.”

Leave it to my little guy to catfish someone into exploring life after death and then criticize. This too is the livelihood of little ones. They can be so sweet and so sour at the exact same time.

I am going to miss my son when he goes off to kindergarten next fall. However, the stories he brings home from recess, the bus, and his classroom will probably be worth my bit of heartache. Tales from a vivacious five-year-old will almost certainly be epic, and I will try hard to always listen because laughter and love are prescriptions for the best life.