I will be the first to tell you that having kids is both amazing and challenging. I have recently started to really feel the baby itch, especially since Cadence is potty-trained and solidly a toddler now. Makes me sad and nostalgic. If I could afford to stay home, I would totally go for another baby or two. Anyways, that is a side note, because Bishop has entered a new phase in life. One that is awesome, and incredibly embarrassing.

He has started to really notice things about other people. Which is normal, and totally fine, and actually a great learning experience for him. The part that is a little wonky is that he generally just announces the things he notices to anyone who wants to hear. Much to my embarrassment. Usually it is just harmless little things, but every now and then, it is something that we 'politely' don't mention we notice. But almost 5 year olds don't really get the whole 'polite' conversation thing. They are just 100% honest about what they see and feel.

So it really wasn't too surprising to me when Bishop announced to Pastor Lynn a few weeks back that his hair is white. He was just being observant, going around the table, tell everyone what color their hair is, and it just so happens that Pastor Lynn's hair is white. Was it polite? No, but it was his honest observation. And because Pastor Lynn is gracious enough, it wasn't too bad.

The problem came the following Friday as we were in Macy's shopping, and B announced to the store that, "That ladies hair is white just like Pastor Lynn's!!"

Now. I have read many parenting books, some good, some not so much. Listened to podcasts about parenting and discipline. And one of the biggies that I really feel strongly about is to never give an 'ultimatum' or a consequence that you can't follow through with. However, in the moment, my brain stopped working. And I gave B a consequence that was both unfitting for the crime, and one that I could never back up.

I got down on this level, and whispered fervently, "Bishop Ivey, if you can't not talk nicely, you won't be allowed to talk."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I mentally took a step back, and thought "Whhhaaaattt?" But in the moment, I couldn't really take it back, or change it, so I just added to it, and told B how it was not nice to talk about ladies hair.

Which I also realize makes no sense to him.

So I ended it with the time honored, "Don't say a single thing as we walk by her. Or Else."

What the "Or Else" is was never tested, since the boy has a functioning brain, and kept his mouth shut as we walked by the nice elderly lady who was staring at us. I did consider having Bishop say sorry, though really, that also doesn't make much sense, since he had no idea what he did wrong.

That, however, was nothing in comparison to what he had done several weeks previously at the grocery store.

Whenever I go grocery shopping, I try to plan it around a time that I can go alone and just get it done without my kiddos. Schedules being what they are, that doesn't always happen. So I was in the store with both kids, Cadence in the cart being her normal cute self, and Bishop being my 'big helper' putting things in the cart as I got them off the shelf. So, there we stood, in the cracker aisle, as I contemplated which brand to get for what I needed. I was looking at my list,  looking at my options, contemplating number of people...all that fun stuff that goes into planning. Anyways, Bishop pats my leg to get my attention and says, "Mom, that guy is really little. Like a kid little. But he's a big kid."

Being otherwise distracted, I answered with, "Yeah, I am sure he is a kid, Bishop."

"No Mom, he's not a kid, but he's little like one."

Still not really paying attention (the peril of any parent) I say, "Ok, Bishop, I am sure he is little like a kid because he IS a kid, now hang on, let me get what we need." So I grab my choice and turn, only to see down the aisle, at the other end, 2 midgets.

Real ones. Not kids. Oh man.

Again, I lost brain function, as they were staring at us, clearly listening to what Bishop had been saying. I am pretty sure the blood drains out of my brain and into my cheeks, and I lose both brain function and suddenly make a convincing impersonation of a lobster.

Regardless. So I pick up my son, put him on the handle of the cart, and again whisper fervently, "Bishop Ivey, when we walk by those people you are not to say a single word. NOT a SINGLE WORD!"

"But Mom, they are lit..."
"SHHHHHHHH, Bishop! Enough! We will talk about it later, but right now, you need to stop talking!"

And being the good boy that he is, he did stop talking, again not really understanding what was going on, or why the little adults were glaring at us. I swear I almost fainted walking past them.

I do wonder how long this will last. Probably until he really starts to get the whole 'social politeness' thing, so I am pretty sure I have a solid 5 more years of this. Dear Lord.