Singing and Talking

Lil' girl is so adorable when she sings. I love it.

She's been singing the song "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" as "Jesus wants me for a sunBEEP" I wanted to preserve her cuteness for posterity and this is what I got:

Of course, the "NO" is pretty typical too.

One of her favorite books lately is "Purplelicious" and it is just fun to hear her say it. This time she cooperated. (Her cousin loves the book "Pinkalicious" and you can read the funny story about that here.)

She loves it when I sing to her and will usually finish the phrase. There is one we sing that goes:

Show me the way to go home.

I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

Oh, I had a little drink about an hour ago

and it went right to my head.

(I know, it is a drinking song) She won't finish the "went right to my head" the right way. She always says "it went right to my neck." Which, I must admit, makes a whole lot more sense.

Of course it does

My almost two-year-old came into the room holding a paper fan. "It's a book." She announced.

"It's a book?" I replied. "What does it say?"

"Ribbit."

eating dyslexic frogs

I'm not listening to you. I mean, what does a SQUIRREL know about mental health?

[note - I love, love, love this comic. In fact, you should go HERE and spend the rest of the day laughing at math and science jokes]

My kids go to bed at seven o'clock. Except for the baby, who is only four months old and not developmentally ready to self-soothe. I have a bedtime too - 10:00pm. I know from talking to my mom friends that this is unusual and pretty amazing, but before you start nominating me for any kind of awards, let me just explain; This is a matter of survival. I am not a good nighttime mommy. In fact, I suck at it. In dire circumstances, when sickness strikes or something like that, I can usually buck up and make it through for a day - maybe two. I can function, but not well. I can't be the kind of mom that I want to be when I am tired. I can't even think straight. And lately, despite my best efforts, it has been catching up to me.

1 - The other night I snuggled up on the couch next to Husband who was grading papers. I decided to do a crossword on my nook (It is still AWESOME, by the way) for a few minutes before going to bed. After interrupting him for help several times, I finally came to a point where several clues 'down' had solved one 'across,' but it didn't seem to make sense with the hint. Me: "John, what does E - A - T spell?" Him: "Eat. It spells eat. Go to bed." and he took the nook from me. Me: "Yeah . . . . good idea."

2 - I was doing a craft project with my kids at my mom's house. I was trying to spell each of the kids' names with plastic beads. I spelled two of their names wrong. THREE times. OK I just put the letters on backwards. But I had to take them apart and re-do the same ones multiple times. My mom says: "Umm...Lindsay? Are you dyslexic?" Me: "I don't think so." (That was after the first time I put them together wrong. After the third try I was seriously considering seeing a therapist.)

3 - I read the kids a book about frogs before bedtime. Their favorite kind of book, all science-y and full of froggy facts. Then I sent them to bed and tried to have an adult conversation with Husband. Except that I kept replacing ordinary words like "newspaper" with the word "frog."

The nice explanation is that I'm using my brain for so many other important things, like when the baby last ate and who has homework due tomorrow, that I don't have a lot of extra room for less important things (like spelling or talking). I'm afraid the ugly truth is that I'm just loosing my mind.

So if you've been expecting me to do something and I haven't followed through, here is my excuse: I've been eating dyslexic frogs.

and I just had to spell-check eating, nice.

Thankfully, I'm not the only one:

Becoming stupider - stupider - stupidier