kids Archives | Page 6 of 9

previous ten entries | 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 | next ten entries

Sunday, November 07, 2004

holding onto sanity by my fingernails

This last week has made me eat every word I ever said about my children's utter lack of sibling rivalry. It is as if they have been possessed by the spirits of my brother at 8 and me at 5. In other words, you know they love each other, but they keep driving each other (and hence their mother) absolutely bananas. I think it was Thursday, or maybe it was Tuesday, when I was awakened at around eight o'clock by my son's voice: "MOMMY! C said [swear word beginning with S, and yes, this is all my fault, because I am the best mom ever]!!" Of course that meant he had said it too, so I let him know that he would share her punishment, which was to have to write forty nice words, in addition to their schoolwork. He called her a name for "getting him into trouble", so in addition to the forty pleasant words, he had to write ten nice words about his sister. All in his best handwriting. C's words were largely illegible, and very faint, but they ran heavy to horses and names of flowers. Here is LT's list, spelling intact:


10 NICE THINGS ABOUT C

1. Prety
   
2. Swete
3. nice
4. cute
5. smart
6. good
7. sciny ["skinny" (!!)]
8. Gubby (one of her nicknames)
9. Hoy (another nickname, because she used to get up in the morning, stumble into our room, and say, "Hoy, Daddy")
10. C-girl (did I mention T gives out nicknames like some dads give out noogies?)

OTHER NICE WORDS

1. happy
2. rainy day
3. cheerful
4. Morobay
5. soft
6. dry
7. warm
8. flours (flowers)
9. fun
10. games
11. elifent
12. ducks
13. crusht tranchlas
14. playing
15. frends
16. love
17. singing
18. Mopar
19. Legos
20. choclit
21. snoeflakes
22. grene
23. moon
24. rose
25. ladybugs
26. grass
27. trees
28. cute
29. crusht joonbugs
30. swimming
31. no school
32. Daddy home
33. holiday
34. thanksgiveing
35. reeding
36. drawing
37. creeks
38. rivers
39. lakes
40. frendly

Hey, I'll take my parenting high points where I can get them, in a week like that one.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

a banner parenting day

This has been a banner parenting day. My goodness.

First we have the drama queen and her antics, previously discussed.

Also, LT finished his second Henry Huggins book and moved on to Beezus and Ramona. He gleefully wrote his very first book report and was extremely excited to finally get to break time at school so that he could do some free reading. Of course this just broke my heart in a dozen pieces. As did his re-enactment of the Revolutionary War, played out with his army men on his sister's bedroom floor. Because his bedroom floor is, ahem, too clogged up with Legos.

LT quote of the day: "[Sister], I'm sorry. I apologize. I never should have said you were like John Kerry. I was only joking anyway."

And finally, for today's entry in the Things I Never Thought I'd Say As A Mom category, we have:

"Untie your sister's legs this instant!"
and
"I said no torturing each other! Do you children never listen?!"

Can I go to bed now?

daily dose of the drama queen

This is gonna be one of those days, with the kids. They have done nothing but snipe at each other since they got out of bed. This sort of thing doesn't happen often -- really those two are just crazy about each other -- but when it does happen, it REALLY happens. The Drama Queen just punched her brother in the chest. Hard. So he's crying, she's lying on her bed having just been given a perfunctory swat on the bottom and a week's restriction (from videos, bicycles, and friends coming over). On her way to her bed she wailed, "You have just ruined my life!!" You'd think she was fifteen, not five.

OK, I just pictured that -- the drama queen at fifteen -- and I think I need to go lie down....

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

updated to add:

Instead of her usual "This is definitely not my day," she just informed me that "this is definitely not my life." Oh, my dear little DQ. We all think that sometimes.

Monday, October 11, 2004

quick little kid funny

Was just playing Mad Libs with the kids again; it's C's first time and I was explaining the concept of "abstract noun" for her.

I: "It's something that's a thing, but you can't touch it. Like... love, or happiness. Or elegance."
She: "Or hot glue!"

ba-da-ching.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

kids'-eye view

Today my dad came over to help me take apart our dryer, and see if it could be saved. It couldn't. But during the repair-attempt-turned-autopsy, we found no less than $17.90 in loose change in the space outside the drum but inside the dryer. LT, upon seeing the Mason jar filling with money we were pulling out, exclaimed, "That's why we've been poor for so long! Our money was getting lost in the dryer!"

If only that would solve it all. :)

Thursday, September 30, 2004

five years ago

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

SPLINTER AAAUUGGHHH!!!

Just had the terribly unpleasant experience of having to pull a 5/8" sliver out of C's foot. Oh man. It took about fifteen minutes, and much of the time she was screaming like we were torturing her (and, well, from what I remember about having other people take splinters out of me, that's not far off). I was holding her and trying to use my body to block her view of Daddy and the tools he was using. T took over the actual removal early on, at my request, because he is so much steadier-handed than I am. Meanwhile I was stroking her head and singing to her and just generally trying to put her in a happy place, which actually helped, a little -- thinking about swimming lessons worked the best. I ended up using labor pain management techniques to help keep her from thrashing around. Hey, those lessons should go to some use, after all... I didn't end up needing them. Even the cats were getting in on the action -- Molly, who thinks a good ear-licking will fix anything, was doing her best to make the screaming stop, and Mary, who is normally a little leery of the kids, was rubbing up against her cheek. My respect for those pesky, destructive, cute little varmints went up several notches, I must say. Everyone except the cats needed ice cream afterward. With whipped cream.

And of course this is prime fodder for C's pity-me attitude. We just asked her how she was feeling, and she said it was hurting just as bad as ever. When we pointed out that she wasn't screaming, at least, she said, "I'm only screaming inside my head. Because I'm not supposed to scream outside my head." Little nut.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

swimming lessons and deprivation

This has been LT's first week of swimming lessons for this summer. He is taking Basic Beginner. Again. This is due to the fact that the cautious side of his nature (which is substantial to begin with) takes on mammoth proportions around water -- which, hey, is good in a lot of ways, right? There's hope, though; last year it took him two weeks to get his head under the water and this year it only took two days. Every summer we have to work up to this again. I wonder if when he's forty he'll still have to spend a few days each summer getting over the panicky feeling that accompanies getting his face wet (even in the shower) before he can enjoy the pool.

I am trying not to think about how hungry I am. It's the 2:30 munchies setting in. From here till about eight o'clock it's always quite a struggle to keep myself from ruining all my hard work in the morning, eating a good healthy breakfast and lunch. Lately (OK, so since Thanksgiving) I've given in more often than not, which is why my weight is basically unchanged since December or January. But I keep recommitting (I remind myself of those people who go forward at Billy Graham crusades over and over and over), because the beach and my extra fifteen pounds are getting terribly close to a very unattractive collision. Those persnickety fifteen pounds! I know I can't lose them all by the time we go on vacation, but I'd like to at least lose half of them. :) So I will sit here and visualize a confident version of myself strolling on the beach in a swimsuit, and pretend that that makes up for the deprivation that comes with denying a craving. sigh.

Saturday, May 22, 2004

end of an era

Today I decided that with the house clean and our houseguests gone doing touristy stuff for the day, I would finally give in to LT's patient pleading to take down his "shed".

This started out as a playhouse, right before he had a growth spurt and got too tall to stand up in it. So for the past two years or so it's been his storage shed, for all the things he wants to take apart or fiddle with or invent or just keep because they're interesting or who knows what. He (and his sister) have been staying out of it for quite some time because it was creepy and dank and nasty inside, and a leeetle bit teetery on top. And since our Florida trip in February, plans have been in the works to take down the shed and build a fort like the one he enjoyed so much at my friend's house there. So anyway. Today we finally took it down. This is a big job; we're only partway done and my hands are so tired I can barely type (oh, the hardship. but see how I persevere). And halfway through I started feeling bad that I'd not waited for T to be there for this big event -- but better that he come home and find it done than come home and find a mess, so we'd better get back out there soon.

The worst part of this task -- even worse than the Puff-the-Magic-Dragon-ish nostalgic kind of sadness involved, as my mind replayed the video of the first time the smaller, younger version of my great hulking boy had seen the finished house, and how his face had lit up -- was when I found Shelob's evil twin sister lurking along the floorboards. I am not exaggerating when I say that this black widow spider's body was the size of a small walnut, and her legs were long in proportion. I did not know black widows could be this big. At this point all guilt about doing this without T present evaporated, because one look at that monstrous beast and he'd have been on his way to the emergency room. And to think that this demonic being has been living in my child's playhouse -- next thing you know I'll be finding orcs under his bed (ack, no I won't! the nightmares, the nightmares!). Providentially, I had a hammer in my hand and work gloves on, so the evil thing was dispatched quickly, thoroughly, and with much enthusiasm. [shudder].

--------

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

much much better day

I want to thank everyone for your nice notes wishing C well. She's doing far better today than I (or the doctor we saw in the ER) thought she would be and I honestly and frankly believe that that has a lot to do with all the people who were praying for her. She's basically her normal self with a minor sore throat, and the laceration is looking so much better and less frightening. Incidentally, whenever I've told anyone on the phone today that she is "doing much better", my drama queen has dolefully, emphatically stated, "no, I am not." You would have to be there to fully grasp the pitifulness. She has the makings of a competitive-caliber hypochondriac.

Overall, today was quite a decent day really. Nothing out of the ordinary... which, considering yesterday and its non-stop stress of one sort or another, is a welcome relief. The only excitement we had today was when the pest control guy called at 9:30 and asked if he could come spray inside "before noon", at which we began frantically cleaning up to get things ready, and he showed up at 10:15. When we were so not ready it was not even funny. ah well. At least it wasn't my father-in-law. (if you want to make your wife nuts, inform her ten minutes before you must leave for lunch with her extremely fussy in-laws that they are coming by afterward to visit, and then act all astonished when that upsets her. Go ahead, try it. But don't tell her you got the idea from me, OK?)

--------

kids Archives | Page 6 of 9

previous ten entries | 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 | next ten entries