The March of the Penguins

It has been a busy week. Who knew that the kindergarten preparation for St. Patrick's Day would be so intense? Last Friday, I had to measure each child's head for an Irish "derby hat" made out of newspaper. My instructions were to cover the children's heads and faces with newspaper and then wrap their heads tightly with masking tape. Does this count as torture?

The kids also decorated potatoes in fancy clothing and brought them home as "pets." Apparently they also measured them and weighed them as part of a math activity. We are now the proud owners of one potato in a yellow scarf whose name is "Toilet." Fabulous.

Speaking of pets, we've managed to avoid taking home any of the real animals that have infiltrated the kindergarten curriculum these past few weeks. There were the goldfish and the snails and the worms. Much of the discussion surrounding these animals concerned poop (Does a worm poop out of both ends? What does snail poop look like? When a fish poops in the water, does the poop sink or float?). Yesterday, when they were drawing and writing "D" words, one kid proudly announced that his "D" word was going to be "dung." And he went on to produce a very life-like representation.

The other animal unit that the boys studied was "Penguins! Penguins! Everywhere!" (FYI, penguin poop is called "guano."). For some reason, Blue and Green have become obsessed with the waddly little creatures. Penguin artwork covers our walls. Penguin books cover our bookshelves. The other day, I noticed Green peering down the front of his pants. "What are you doing?" I asked him. "I'm looking for my brood pouch," he answered. When I tried to clarify the difference between boys and birds, he told me, "I would rather be a bird."

The biggest result of this fixation on penguins is that both kids have attached rather deeply to a couple of mangy stuffed penguins. I think it's part of some sort of separation thing. The consequence of this attachment is that I have been abruptly demoted from "Very Important Person" to "The Lady Who Makes My Sandwiches and Washes My Clothes." It used to be that when I picked the boys up from school, I would say to each one, "Oh, sweetie, I missed you so much today!" And they would respond, "We missed you, too, Mama!" Last week, I said to Blue, "Oh, sweetie, I missed you so much today!" And he said, "Do you know who I missed?" and ran over to hug his annoying little toy.

It takes a little bit of effort for me not to mention to them the THREE MONTHS I spent on bedrest while pregnant, or the THREE MONTHS I spent listening to them scream through colic, or all the ear infections and croup and toilet training and general handwringing. But it's good that they're becoming more independent, right? It's so wrong of me to have homicidal feelings toward some greying and matted toys that Michael bought for $2.99 in the grocery store floral section.

Of course, there's one little detail that I've left out of this story. They each refer to their penguins as their "peckers." The first time I heard them use this term, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. "Mama!" Blue shouted from the other room. "Have you seen my pecker?"

My head snapped back in surprise. "Uh...what?" I asked.

"I can't find my pecker! Where is that tiny little pecker?"

"Ummmm...." I stammered.

"Oh, pecker, where are you?" Blue continued.

I waited, not sure how to handle this issue.

Blue screeched in delight. "Mama, I found it!" he said. "I found my soft pecker! Would you like to come give my pecker a kiss?"

They may be done with me. I'm old news. But I do think that they have a bit more to learn about the world before they leave for good. "How about if we give your penguin a new name?" I asked Blue the other day. He shook his head and said, "It's my pecker, and I can do what I want with it."

Enough said. I think I'll let their father deal with this one.