Hommas!

Luke is obsessed with trains.

Any trains will do, but Thomas the Tank Engine is a particular favorite.

I made the mistake of buying Luke a Thomas DVD last week and we've watched it 234 times since then. Fortunately, it's a moderately educational show. There are shapes and numbers, and wonderful morals about hard work and honesty. Luke is learning so many things!

Meanwhile, my brains are leaking out of my ears.

It's not that I hate Thomas (although, like may be too strong of a word.) It's just the repetition that gets to me. Every time I try to take a break from it, Luke is there...

"Hommas Twain, Mommy!"

"Do you mean Thomas Train, Honey?"

"Hommas?"

"No, Tuh - Thomas."

"Hommas."

"Luke, say toy."

"Toy."

"Good! Now, say Thomas."

"Hommas."

Finally, the other day, Chris got out the electric train set we've been keeping in storage. It's not really appropriate for little kids, but this is Luke's first real interest and we want to encourage that. Fortunately, the train set was a gift....since I happen to know from experience that there's no quicker way to get your kid to lose interest in a hobby than to invest good money into it.

The problem with getting out the electric train set (other than the massive effort of keeping Diaper-Clad Godzilla away from it) is that, eventually, it must get put away.

Luke has a meltdown every time.

"Oh-no, Choo-choo TWAIN!!"

Chris (in all his adorable naiveté) tries to reason with the boy.

"The train has to go night-night, Luke. We'll get it out again tomorrow."

By now the waterworks are in full force while Luke watches Daddy put the train into the closet. His little hand flops a sloppy goodbye and his crying takes on a mournful pitch.

"Niiiiiight-niiiight, Twaaaaiiiiin!"

He's been doing that a lot lately...talking through his cries. Our personal favorite, though, is when he sings through them.

This might sound hard to believe; but, sometimes when we put Luke down to sleep, he takes exception.

Crazy, I know.

To distract him from the crying fit, Chris and I have started singing right in the middle of it. Before we know it, Luke is singing/crying along.

"Jesus uh meeeeeee...(deep breath)....dis I knoooooow..."

After a while, he's doing more singing then he is crying and, eventually, he's forgotten why he was upset in the first place. It's a strategy that can't possibly last but we're enjoying it while we can.

But the best (non-crying) version of Jesus Loves Me came from Luke's Elmo doll. I was singing along with Luke as he laid in bed one night and, about halfway through, he suddenly held out Elmo and raised the pitch of his voice a few octaves.

"Yessss! Jesus uh me."

Motherhood might occasionally diminish the brain...but it swells the heart beyond capacity.