Romantic aspirations of a four-year-old

The girls have been in bed for 20 minutes, but are still talking....

Me: "Stop talking. It is time to sleep!"

Child #4: "But Mom! I'm just trying to decide who I should marry!"

Me: "I'm pretty sure that can wait. Stop talking so you and your sisters can sleep!"

Child #4: "But Mom! It will only take a second!"

Me: "Go to sleep!"

I went back upstairs. I'm pretty sure she kept up the conversation (but in a whisper), until she made her decision. I'm too afraid to ask.

*    *     *

Overheard Child #4 and her father.....

Child #4: "Dad, do you know why I am so sad?"
(bear in mind, she does not sound remotely sad. Only matter-of-fact)

Him: "No, why?"

Child #4: "Because no boys love me."

Him: "I love you. Your brothers love you. Your grandpas....."

Child #4: "No! Dad, no boys MY AGE are in love with me."

Him: "Oh. Ok, then."

If anyone has any tips on how to keep her from growing up so fast, I'd love to hear them.

Raising them right

My extremely shy three-year-old had a bad ear infection and we couldn't get in to her regular pediatrician. I was bracing myself for an awful trip, but the on-call doctor was fantastic.

Matching princess aprons

He stayed out of her space and talked to her, and even drew her a flower on a tongue depressor. He managed to check her ears with no fuss at all and that was that.

Two days later she was still carrying around the flower. She was sitting on the floor, staring at her tongue depressor when she looked up at me in sudden realization, "Mom! Boys can be doctors TOO!"

"You're right! Anyone can be a doctor." And it warmed the cockles of my cold feminist heart.

The nine-year-old

My nine-year-old is a perfectly normal nine-year-old, which is to say that I have no idea what to do with him, and I love him to pieces, but he has turned into the most sarcastic little person ever invented. 

(I know, MY child? Sarcastic? I'm shocked too. He must get it from his father.) 

The kids and I went to my parent's "cabin" this past week. We were getting ready to go to the lake when my sisters pulled up. My kids were so excited to see their cousins. As they ran outside, I called after them, "Help your aunts bring stuff in from the car." 

And they were all very helpful. Especially my oldest, who is old enough to actually help, and not just get in the way. After carrying in bags and suitcases and helping with the cooler, and putting it all away where instructed he asked his aunt, "Is there anything I else I can help you with?" After being told no, he noticed that all the younger kids were being rowdy and took them all outside to play ball while their moms unpacked. 

Working on selfies

After a few minutes I loaded all my kids into the car and headed out to the lake where the cousins would meet us after they ate lunch. As soon as I stopped the car, they all ran for the water. "Hey!" I called after them, "Help me unload the car."

Child #1 stomped his feet and came slowly back. "Why do I have to?" in his best whiny voice.

Me: "What's wrong? You were so helpful to your aunts! Do you know what you said? You said, 'Is there anything else I can help you with?' I'm your mother! You've never said that to me in your life!"

Child 1: "Boy. I bet that's frustrating."

Grammar Lessons

The boys were trying on Grandma's reading glasses.

Boy 1: "Go look in the mirror! You look so weird."

Boy 2: "Really?"

Boy 1: "Yes. You look like a nerd."

Boy 2 goes to inspect himself in the bathroom and comes prancing back a moment later.

Boy 2: "Hey, guess what? If I was naked I would be a nude nerd!"

*   *    *    *

I can't remember now what they were arguing about.....something to do with their snack.

Boy 1: "I'm right."

Boy 2: "No, I'm right."

Boy 1: "No. I'm right, PERIOD."

Boy 2: "Well..... I'm right, EXCLAMATION POINT!"



Well, at least you can tell they are paying attention in school sometimes.

Gee, thanks

My two-year-old walked into my room as I was getting dressed......

"Mama, you naked?"

"Yes, I'm naked."

Wrinkled nose and disgusted look: "Ew" and then she walked away.

I'm yelling after her: "Hey! This is not "ew" this is normal! And it's YOUR fault! This body created yours, you don't get to say "ew"!

Of course, she was already down the stairs and ignoring me.

Nothing like starting my day with a self-esteem boost.

Breakfast entertainment

The children were plotting their takeover of the world this morning.

They started with Maine. Then on to Canada. After that it was Mexico and Australia, and then as the crowning jewel - Equestria! (Where the My Little Ponies live, for those of you not up on your children's television)

They sneaked into Equestria via a secret portal and cleverly disguised themselves as a band. Child #1 was the violin player - with his bow and arrows disguised as a violin. Child #3 was the guitarist, her guitar was secretly her shirt, and she could shoot fire. Child #2 was the piano player, but the piano was actually bombs.

They choreographed the whole thing. My favorite moment was my oldest standing on top of the coffee table, pointing his bow at his brother "Ok! NOW! Old McDonald Had a Farm!" And Child #2 played Old McDonald had a farm, Child #3 played air guitar and then they started laughing evilly and the "battle" began.

Learning by Example

So you know, they say kids learn the most by example.
I find this both reassuring and scary.
And it becomes uncomfortably obvious as I watch my kiddos play - Do I really sound like that?


We got the fabulous and amazing "car cart" at the grocery store - but it only had one steering wheel, as the other had been broken off. Naturally, this caused a scuffle.

Child 3: "I get to sit here."

Child 4: "No! I want to drive."

Child 3: "NO! I'm the Mommy! You're the Daddy!"

Child 4: "Oh."

And that settled the debate. The Mommy drives.

*     *     *     *

This is Cinderella and Snow White

 sitting at the computer in the courtyard of their castle. 

They are planning a menu for the next month and making a grocery list.

*     *     *     *

Of course, babies should be held whenever possible, 

and the baby sling makes everyone happy. 

(Ignore the fact that child #2 is carrying his cat)

*     *     *     *

And last week Child #4 asked me to play with her.

"I'm the mommy." She announced, picking up a baby doll. 

"I'm the mommy and you are the daddy." She handed me the baby. 

"I'm going to a meeting." And she put on a pair of my heels and left. 

*     *     *     *

Yup. That is exactly what goes on around here.

My life as a newspaper article

(written by an 8-year-old)

This is a piece of my third grader's "getting to know you" poster for school. It says: "Mom: She cooks dinner, she washes our clothes, she makes babies. She is my mom. My mom loves to read and so do I."

It is sweet, and also a bit sad. I didn't realize my life could be contained in three simple sentences.

 But there it is. 

Also, this is the picture he included of himself. 

He is dressed as a ninja-wizard-superhero with a laser ring on his finger. (Obviously)

cleaning house

To my children:

Mommy is genetically a clean-freak, but I'm trying very hard to overcome my obsession in order to make our home more happy, even if it is less clean.

And since there are five of you, most of the time the mess is winning, I'm trying to come to peace with that.  I tell myself - it isn't dirt, just clutter; and if it means that I didn't yell at anyone, the fact that there are leftover blanket forts and Legos all over the living room just means that we've had a good day.

I like to think I'm striking the right balance and that our house is mostly clean most of the time.

Screaming "It's the end of the world as we know it!" the entire time I vacuum is very demoralizing.  Please stop.

Love, Mommy

(our most epic fort so far)

Hairy Faces

"When a man grows hair all over his face it is impossible to tell what he really looks like.

Perhaps that's why he does it.  He'd rather you didn't know." - Roald Dahl

For the majority of our married life my husband has had a beard. I like it. It suits him.

Every once in a while, he decides to shave it off.  Usually in the summer, to remind us all what his chin looks like. And in 20 minutes he drops ten years. And I'm stuck looking every second of my thirty-some-odd years. So family pictures are definitely out. I know cougars are trendy now and all....but, no.

It's hilarious to watch the children react to him.  They tell him he looks like their Uncle Travis (his little brother) and that it's weird.  The baby was not happy about him holding her until he started talking.  Then she buried her face into his chest (at least he still smells like Daddy should).

The two-year-old was the best, though. "It's OK, Daddy.  You can buy some more face at the store."

Not sure what this says about our house

Child 1 and child 3 love to play Pet Shop.  They pretend to be animals and I pretend to buy them.  The other day they were being cats (big surprise).

Child 1: "Mom, this is a pet store.  Can you come and buy us?"

Me: "I'm right in the middle of making dinner, and I can't leave right now.  Can you wait?"

Child 1: "Can't you buy us online?"

Me: "Absolutely.  Click, click, click.  Beep, beep.  Gee, I can't wait until my new cats come in the mail!"

And they delivered themselves to my kitchen door, unpacked themselves from their remote-control crates (laundry baskets) and moved into the living room.  I got dinner made without having them underfoot and they still felt like I was playing with them.

Parenting WIN.

He is his father's son

A few weeks ago, one of the speakers in church was a young man, about 16-years-old.  He gave a nice talk, and at the end he got a little choked up talking about how grateful he was for his mother.  It was very sweet.

I leaned over to my husband and whispered in his ear: "Our sons are never going to do this for me. I can already tell."

They do love me, and they will continue to love me, but public declarations that are sweet and moving?  I highly doubt it.

Then this week my second son brought home a valentine he wrote for me as an assignment in school.  It said:

Dear Mom,

I love you.  I love that you look like a worm.  I will bring you lots of dirty dirt to eat.  I will flush you down the toilet and into the sewers.  Happy Valentine's Day.

I wouldn't trade him for the world.

If you're old enough to be having this conversation, you're too old to be having this conversation

Disclaimer: I know that two-years-old is too old to still have a pacifier.  I know I should have taken it away a long time ago.  I know that the only reason she still has a pacifier is because I am too chicken to take it away. I have five kids and I'm exhausted, I just haven't had the energy to deal with it.  My only defense is that at least she isn't carrying it around the house all day, so it isn't delaying her speech; she is only allowed the binky in her bed. I should take it away, and I will.  Just not tonight, tonight I want to sleep.

Child 4 comes into the kitchen sucking on her binky.

Me: "Binkies are for bed.  Take it upstairs."

Her: Popping the binky out of her mouth, "But it's MY binky."

Me: "And it belongs in YOUR bed.  Go put it away."

Her: "But it's MINE."

Me: "Yes, it's yours.  Go put it in your bed."

Her: "But Mommy, it's my birthday."

Me: "No it isn't! Go."

There can only be ONE Holy Family

I love nativity sets, and I've collected a few over the years.  Some of them I didn't get out this year because they are beautiful and fragile and I'd probably forget that my children are also beautiful and fragile; if by (likely) chance one of them forgot to look only with their eyes and not with their fingers.  Just not worth it this time.

But I do have some that are kid-friendly.  And the kids have enjoyed playing with them.  I have loved watching them - I wish I had videos, but I'm not sneaky enough when I get out my camera, so they always stop playing.  All of the following scenarios were instigated by child #3 (aka the one who never stops talking.)

The first day Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs came to visit the baby Jesus on a field trip in the school bus. Poor Snow White, she somehow lost the use of her legs, and has to ride in a wheel chair now. (The "Little People School Bus" is handicapped accessible.)  The dwarfs were very considerate of her.





The next day the two Marys were nose to nose.  Their argument went something like this:
"MY baby Jesus is more powerful than YOUR baby Jesus."
"No! MY baby Jesus could defeat YOUR baby Jesus!
"No! Mine is bigger!"


And the Josephs started shoving each other:
"I get to protect Mary and Jesus!"
"No! I do!"

And of course, the wise men all wanted to give the baby their presents first.

Then one of the Marys learned how to fly, so she ferried everyone to whichever shelf they liked the best.

They've reached a sort-of peace now.  They manage to share the one un-broken stable without much fuss.  I'm actually worried that Joseph may have developed a thing for the wrong Mary. They keep sneaking off together and I find them hidden around corners and under tables.

Even the Holy Family becomes dysfunctional when you bring them into our house.

Playing House

Since the boys started school and my oldest daughter is now the biggest (aka bossiest) kid at home, we have been playing "house" a lot lately.

It is kind of awesome because I don't have to stop what I'm doing (I play house all day every day!) and I'm still playing with her.  Child 3 is always the mom, and I am always the kid, sometimes the baby gets to play as the pet.  She makes allowances because she is a "Small Mom" and I am a "Big Kid" so I can drive her to the grocery store or vacuum  or do the baby lifting.

It gets confusing when she plays house by herself though, because I'm usually only half listening and I answer her questions even when (clearly) she was talking to "Mom" the cat.  She gets very annoyed at me and sighs most dramatically.  Also, I have no outward clues as to when she has started playing house by herself.  The other day she got very upset because I answered when her foot (the kid) was asking her other foot (the mom) if she could go out and play.  "I wasn't talking to you!  *sigh* Your talking hurts my head."

And then there is this: We were at my mom's the other day and she wanted to play house. We didn't have an established role for my mom so. . . I'll let her tell it.

She is awesome and adorable and possibly in need of psychiatric help.

UEA Weekend

The older two are home from school for a long weekend, so I thought we could do some craft projects. . .

Me:  "Hey, I know!  Lets make some fall crafts to decorate the house."

Child 1: "Yeah!"

Child 3: "Yeah!"

Child 2: "I want to watch a movie."

Me: "No movies.  Lets go outside and gather sticks and leaves and things."

Child 1: "Yeah.  What about Halloween?  Can we decorate for Halloween?"

Me: "I like fall better."

Child 1: "I like Halloween better."

Me: "Fine.  But go get some leaves and sticks and stuff.  We could make a collage.  With bats and black cats."

Child 1: "Yeah!"

Me:  "Ok.  Lets make a big tree on this paper."

Child 2: "There are trees outside."

Me: "I know, but we want to hang one on the door."

Child 2: "Why?"

Me: "For decoration.  Go get me some more sticks."

Child 2: "I don't want to."

Me: "I am the queen of the whole entire universe!  Go get some sticks!"

Child 3: "What about Jesus?"

Also, we made this.
Melted crayons on a pumpkin
with the blow dryer.
Which sent Child 4 into hysterics.

Me: "Fine.  I am the queen of the whole house!  Go get some sticks."

Child 2:  "You are the queen of your room."

Me: "STICKS! Go get some sticks!  We are making a tree in the house!"

Child 1 contributed a black cat to climb the tree.  Child 2 brought me the tiniest sticks he could find, while giggling at his crazy mommy.  And I sort-of left Child 3 alone with the glitter glue.  So I made a tree, and sat in glitter glue.

negotiations

Husband is playing with the baby while I regale him about our three-year-old's latest antics.

Him, by way of explanation: "She's three."

Then he looks into the baby's eyes.  "You'll be three someday and you can cause all the same problems."

Me: "Then we could have a new baby, too."

Him:  "THEN will we be done?"

Me:  "At least one more after this.  Then I am willing to negotiate a . . . ceasefire.  But you know my negotiations will all be:  Just ONE more?  Just ONE more!  Look at those cheeks! . . . . OK, that isn't true.  My negotiation techniques will involve a babysitter for the kids, lingerie, and a box of condoms - WAY downstairs in a cupboard in the basement."

Him: "Whatever.  By then they will have invented a pill for men.  I can remember to take a pill everyday, unlike some people I know."

haircut

So.  We had ANOTHER incident involving small idle hands and scissors.  This was while Husband was out of town for a couple of days.  Lil' girl came to find me with a handful of curls and the explanation:  "Mommy. I didn't mean to."

I think I handled it pretty well all things considered.  And what I mean by that is that I didn't let her see me cry.  

It isn't too terrible.  And by that I mean it was fixed by my friendly neighborhood stylist and you can't tell anymore.  Her hair was so long, and she cut off the end of her ponytail.  It could have been much worse.

And it was a bit of a shock for me.  I didn't realize I had any ego invested in my child's appearance.  I guess I do a little bit.  Five inches of blonde curls!  People pay money to get hair like hers.  And I've never cut it before.  This is the same hair she was born in!

Mostly I was trying to figure out the right way to tell her that she had done something wrong, without making her feel like she is only cute because of her hair.

You know what is wrong with short hair?  NOTHING.  You know what makes you cute?  YOUR HAPPY SMILE. You know why we don't cut our own hair?  Ummm....because we prefer to pay someone to do that.  And so that it is all the same length.

Brilliant child rightly pointed out that my hair is not all the same length, and that I cut my bangs myself.  And I'm left saying lamely: "Just don't cut your hair, Ok? Just don't."





Now you should go listen to this.  I'm afraid we may be having this conversation in a few years at our house, too.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about a Zombie Apocalypse

Hanging out with my niece and my daughter at my mom's house the other day. . . .

Niece: "Sometimes my curtains look like ghosts or monsters!"

Me: "But nice monsters, right? The ones that tickle you?"

Niece: "Or ZOMBIES! They will eat your braaaaains!"

Daughter: "Mom, you don't have brains. You just have hair." 
(as if the two are somehow mutually exclusive)

 Later, as Husband was rocking the baby, I was telling him this story  and that I should just go ahead and change the name of my blog to "Things my 3-year-old says." The baby grinned and chuckled.

A Lady, you-have-no-idea-what-is-in-store-for-you kind of chuckle.

I'm afraid of what she has in mind for me.

I'm sure this will be funny in a year or so

She's been in bed and quiet for over an hour.  And then she comes to find me while I'm rocking the baby to sleep.

Her: "Mommy, there was a marker in my bed"

Me: "What? No! we only color on paper!"

Her: 'But there was a marker in my bed."

Me: "You know you're not supposed to color on yourself!  Why did you color on your face? It isn't paper!  This was NOT a good thing to do!"

Her: "Some church shirts are like paper."

Me: "No! Church shirts are not like paper, just because they are white does not mean you can color on    them!"

Her: "White isn't a color, it's a shade."

Me: "You still are not supposed to color on anything but paper!  Come on.  Let's go wash you off."

Her:  "We also need to wash my bed."

Me: "You colored on your sheets?  This is NOT OK."

Her: "Do we need soap?"

Me: "Yes."

. . . .wash . . . wash. . . wash. . .

Her: "I also colored my library book - it's paper."