"Reading" is one of my daughter's favorite things to do. She loves to grab books off her shelf and either tell the story from memory or make up a new one based on the pictures. If I'm not reading a book to her, she's probably reading it to herself. But, since I've been working for a little over a month now and out of the house several evenings at class, our mommy/daughter reading time, especially before bedtime.
So yesterday afternoon as I was playing with my son in his bedroom, my little bookworm spread out her sleeping bag in the hallway, grabbed a pillow and a stack of books, and settled in for some story time. Watching from the other room, I couldn't wait to hear what creative dialog, plots, and characters she would invent. Opening to the first page, the story began:
First page:
-Mommy, I want you to stay home.
-No, I have to go to work.
Second page:
-Mommy, I want you to stay home.
-No, I have to go to work.
Third page:
-Mommy, I want you to stay home.
-No, I have to go to work.
This continued for six or seven pages or so and reached a rousing climax of:
-Mommy, please I really want you to stay.
-NO, I have to go. See ya!
This is a child who evidently has some issues who now has a mommy whose genetically inherited guilt complex has now been compounded.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
A summer full of funnies, undocumented
So I have clearly been neglecting this blog and I know that's been a great disappointment for the two or three of you that actually read it. I know, I know, I'm a disappointment even to myself. I know of several mommies whose baby books and scrapbooks are filled with daily accounts of first smiles, first laughs, first words, biggest burps and loudest farts, but I'm really just not that kind of mom. That's not to say that I don't cherish every moment with my children, but it's just not in my nature to be cutesy or curlicued, mushy or gushing. I'm sure that at some point down the road, I'll be kicking myself for not recording more memories, but for now, I'm just really bummed that I haven't kept track of the hil-fricking-arious things that my kids have said and done in the past few months because someday I might write a book and make a buck or two off of it. So I'm raising my hand and taking my solemn mommy oath to fully exploit my children's antics and exclamations for your reading pleasure on a much more regular basis. I'm going to reach into the corners of my mind and pull out some of this summer's classic gems and make a mental note to jot down the new ones.
Here's a doozy to hold you over while I'm thinking:
This summer my ever-so-precocious daughter attended Vacation Bible School, which I know is hard for most of you to believe, but bear with me. After only a few days, I found myself the mother of a newly energized convert who would randomly shout out goodies like "Praise His name" at the dinner table. Being the inquisitive tot that she is, she had a plethora of questions about just who was this Jesus guy, where does he live, and what does he do. The best I could do off the top of my head as to the question of Jesus' whereabouts (and this came after a long and trying string of really hard questions coming from a three-year-old, so cut me some slack) was "in the sky, honey, he lives in the sky."
Apparently, the image of the dude who can walk in the air (kind of like an airplane, she asked) stuck with her. Every once in a while when helping me put her brother down for a nap or for the evening, she'll lovingly pat his head and in a sing-songy voice reassure him "Jesus is in the sky. I love you, night night."
Last week after sending baby brother off to the Land of Nod with the usual benediction, my little philosopher looked at me quite seriously and said (and this is a direct quote here, no exaggeration), "Jesus rhymes with Chuck E. Cheese's."
Well, yes, honey, it certainly does and bravo to you for being so adept with a language concept well beyond the expected skill level for your age and so creative to boot.
See, it was worth the wait, wasn't it?
Here's a doozy to hold you over while I'm thinking:
This summer my ever-so-precocious daughter attended Vacation Bible School, which I know is hard for most of you to believe, but bear with me. After only a few days, I found myself the mother of a newly energized convert who would randomly shout out goodies like "Praise His name" at the dinner table. Being the inquisitive tot that she is, she had a plethora of questions about just who was this Jesus guy, where does he live, and what does he do. The best I could do off the top of my head as to the question of Jesus' whereabouts (and this came after a long and trying string of really hard questions coming from a three-year-old, so cut me some slack) was "in the sky, honey, he lives in the sky."
Apparently, the image of the dude who can walk in the air (kind of like an airplane, she asked) stuck with her. Every once in a while when helping me put her brother down for a nap or for the evening, she'll lovingly pat his head and in a sing-songy voice reassure him "Jesus is in the sky. I love you, night night."
Last week after sending baby brother off to the Land of Nod with the usual benediction, my little philosopher looked at me quite seriously and said (and this is a direct quote here, no exaggeration), "Jesus rhymes with Chuck E. Cheese's."
Well, yes, honey, it certainly does and bravo to you for being so adept with a language concept well beyond the expected skill level for your age and so creative to boot.
See, it was worth the wait, wasn't it?
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Complete and utter chaos
It is 10:15 a.m. Both children have been screaming non-stop since 7:30 a.m. There has been a total breakdown of order and authority and the best I can do at this point is watch in shock and awe and pray for it all to be over.
The more the baby cries, the faster the snot drips out of his nose and the redder his eyebrows get.
My daughter is rolling on the floor making sounds previously unknown to man and screaming "I want my daddy." Me too, sister, me too.
The more the baby cries, the faster the snot drips out of his nose and the redder his eyebrows get.
My daughter is rolling on the floor making sounds previously unknown to man and screaming "I want my daddy." Me too, sister, me too.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Ways your children can make you look bad, Part 1
While walking through Costco, and almost pulling down a bottle from one of the "expensive" bins, Ms. Fancy Pants says loudly (of course, there's no volume control on that kid)....
"Mommy, we need some wine."
Nice. She probably can't tell you what spinach looks like, but she can sure spot a bottle of booze pdq.
"Mommy, we need some wine."
Nice. She probably can't tell you what spinach looks like, but she can sure spot a bottle of booze pdq.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Why new carpet is just not a good idea right now
Despite the fact that we have an 18-month-old and a 3-year-old, my dear husband still thinks that we could use some new beige carpet. How can I even begin to explain the faulty logic behind that. Let's see, there's: vomit, pee, grape juice, chocolate ice cream, drippy green snot, mud, blood, melted popsicle, stickiness of unknown origin, and oh yeah....poop.
Allow me to set the scene:
It's Wednesday afternoon and Mr. McBooBoos is sitting on the floor in Miss Lala's room when suddenly a foul odor emanates from his general direction. I pick him up to investigate and in the spot where he had just been sitting, there's a toddler-sized circle of runny yellow poop. Now, if you have kids, but have yet to experience the buttocks to neck covered with poop phenomenon, let me guarantee you that one day, your child will be so covered with crap that the only option will be to hold him out in front of you as far as you safely can and quickly deposit him in the tub, clothes and all, and start the hosedown. More than likely, when the clothes start coming off, the poop that had been previously limited to the back area will find its way into the hair and onto the feet, between the toes. Any reservations you might have had before about actually touching the poo-poo are as good as out the window, because you've got a dirty job to do, and you've just got to hope that by the time you're finished, you've somehow avoided baby caca smears on the walls and in your own hair.
So the moral of the story is: no new carpet, and you, too, will be covered in poop one day.
Allow me to set the scene:
It's Wednesday afternoon and Mr. McBooBoos is sitting on the floor in Miss Lala's room when suddenly a foul odor emanates from his general direction. I pick him up to investigate and in the spot where he had just been sitting, there's a toddler-sized circle of runny yellow poop. Now, if you have kids, but have yet to experience the buttocks to neck covered with poop phenomenon, let me guarantee you that one day, your child will be so covered with crap that the only option will be to hold him out in front of you as far as you safely can and quickly deposit him in the tub, clothes and all, and start the hosedown. More than likely, when the clothes start coming off, the poop that had been previously limited to the back area will find its way into the hair and onto the feet, between the toes. Any reservations you might have had before about actually touching the poo-poo are as good as out the window, because you've got a dirty job to do, and you've just got to hope that by the time you're finished, you've somehow avoided baby caca smears on the walls and in your own hair.
So the moral of the story is: no new carpet, and you, too, will be covered in poop one day.
To the god of impossible wishes.....
Dear Higher Being,
While I realize this is probably too much to ask, I have a few requests I would like you to consider:
...could you please make it less rewarding to be greedy and throw something awesome out at the really kind, selfless people out there?
...could you just wipe the slate clean with your giant Magna-Doodle and give everyone the same opportunities no matter where they come from or what they believe?
...and could you please make people stop killing and hurting other people? It really sucks.
Alice
P.S. Oh and by the way, could we just do one little switcheroo...broccoli in the bad column, chocolate Oreo cheesecake in the super-extra-good-for-you column? Thanks.
While I realize this is probably too much to ask, I have a few requests I would like you to consider:
...could you please make it less rewarding to be greedy and throw something awesome out at the really kind, selfless people out there?
...could you just wipe the slate clean with your giant Magna-Doodle and give everyone the same opportunities no matter where they come from or what they believe?
...and could you please make people stop killing and hurting other people? It really sucks.
Alice
P.S. Oh and by the way, could we just do one little switcheroo...broccoli in the bad column, chocolate Oreo cheesecake in the super-extra-good-for-you column? Thanks.
Friday, March 28, 2008
My husband is so smart....
Conversation with husband last night:
Husband: I see that you bought toilet paper at Costco today, but didn't use the coupon.
Me: There's only one roll left in the entire house.
Husband: But that's like three dollars you could have saved with the coupon.
Me: That coupon isn't even good until April 4th. Today's March 27th - that's 8 whole days.
Husband: So?
8 days, 1 roll, 3 toilet-paper using human beings. You do the math.
Husband: I see that you bought toilet paper at Costco today, but didn't use the coupon.
Me: There's only one roll left in the entire house.
Husband: But that's like three dollars you could have saved with the coupon.
Me: That coupon isn't even good until April 4th. Today's March 27th - that's 8 whole days.
Husband: So?
8 days, 1 roll, 3 toilet-paper using human beings. You do the math.
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