Last night Chloe and I had two totally undisturbed hours by ourselves. I thought it might be fun to go on a date together, but I just couldn't seem to think of anything fun to do. Then I tried to think like her. That's when I knew what should be done.
The evening commenced with the two of us putting on our high heels and going ice skating (for pretend of course). Chloe was the Mommy and I was her daughter. She's sooooo into this reverse role playing thing right now! But it's so fun to watch her and see how she thinks a Mommy behaves, talks, walks, etc. So, I just followed her lead the whole time.
The last time we had time like this, we actually did go ice skating together. So, she imitated every single thing we did. She insisted I put on a pair of her high heels (picture 6 inches of plastic, raised 1/2 an inch off the ground) - that just wasn't going to work no matter how hard I tried. But, just like the step sisters in Cinderella, she insisted I continue trying to fit my foot into a place that only my big toe would fit. Exasperated, she let out a big sigh and in her most patient mommy voice she proclaimed, "You can just wear the shoes you have on." She had already picked out my black, dress, high heels that was nicely paired with my sweat pants and long cotton t-shirt.
I pretended to slip and fall once we got on the ice and I pulled her down with me and we laid there and giggled until she realized that this never actually happened in the 'real skating adventure'. She was getting a bit frustrated that I was not going by the script and told me to go over to the carpet section and wait for her. I pretended to hang on to the wall inside the ice-skating rink instead and was promptly disciplined, "Daughter, you are 12" said the airy, high-pitched Mommy voice "you already know how to ice skate. Don't fall."
After an exciting 3 minutes of ice skating, it was on to hairdresser and make-up. This was going to be a full spa treatment. Of course I had to do her first. She requested a Queen Amahdalah hair-do (one of the only girl characters in Star Wars that she can relate to). Thankfully I was in the midst of creative genius during this time and made my 'mommy' very happy with her Star Wars hair-do. When it was my turn, she decided to paint my finger nails purple, followed by blue eyeshadow and lots of sparkly purple lip gloss. My hair turned out to be an eclectic mix of bows and clips.
Throughout the entire time, she's giving me tid-bits of mommy wisdom such as, "Kid. Daughter, I know much lotter than you. So, that's why you need to listen to me. Okay, kid?" or "Daughter, are you having a good day?" or "You are my kid, okay daughter, and I am in command of you." When it came time for clean up, she promptly reminded me that she was the Mommy and the kid always has to clean up, so "do it, okay daughter." What choice did I have?
The last part of our evening involved dining on a picnic blanket in front of the t.v. eating egg salad sandwiches and pretzels and watching Cinderella until the boys got home. What more does a girl need? Anytime we get time alone it's a definite treat.
How could this possibly happen? Let me explain:
The other night I was up at the track with all the kids (neighbor kids included) running away (not literally, just figuratively). As I'm finishing my last lap, all the kids start following me, talking all at the same time, about some dog. I was looking a bit like the Pied Piper. In the most patient voice I could muster while gasping for every precious breath, I asked if they could PLEASE wait for 2 more minutes so I could finish this all important last lap. I was not about to let a little lost dog ruin my goal. My priorities were soaring at this point.
The lap is finally finished, the goal reached and I start walking across the field to meet up with the kids. You would have thought their best friend just died. They couldn't believe I could be so heartless as to let a little dog run out of their grasp (they were not allowed to step foot out of the field so I could keep my eye on them the whole time). It was now wandering aimlessly through the parking lot somewhere. I assured them that we would indeed find the dog and bring it back to it's owner. A collective sigh of relief could be heard.
So there we all are, 5 kids and me, roaming in and out of cars, calling for some random dog that we don't even know if it is a he or she or even if she has some horrible illness, fleas or even rabies for that matter. Thankfully, it ran right towards us and was quickly inside our little huddle before it knew what hit it. After a unanimous vote, it was decided that I would carry the dog to the van, being that it was a wiggly mass of 25 pounds or more with no collar.
Upon reaching the van, the dog jumped right in and took her place in one of the seats. I have to say this for the dog, she was clean, didn't bark or whine, and was seemingly well behaved. She knew we must be bringing her back to her castle. Unfortunately, we had no clue where that was.
The neighbor kids' mom is a huge dog lover, and I thought, the perfect person to 'rescue' this dog. I was really hoping to pass the poor thing off on her and be done with it. Not so. Although she felt bad for it, she didn't feel bad enough to take it in her house with her. Great. Now I need to think of a plan B. Too bad none of the shelters were open this time of night. Looks like litte lost dog gets to come home with us.
Just a side note, bath time and bed time are being blown out of the water here. When Chuck is out of town, I operate on a tight schedule. I look forward to this part of the evening when the time is my own and I can sit and stare at a wall in silence. Not so tonight. Tonight, I have to make a flier to post around the neighborhood so little lost dog can get found again.
I put the dog and kids out back. They lavished attention, food, water and toys on it. They even gave it a temporary name "Weedy". I doubt there was any deep thought behind it. The kids probably just looked around the back yard and named her the thing they saw the most of - that would be weeds. Meanwhile, I'm back inside honing my Powerpoint skills and making a poster worthy of some advertising award.
We then all load back up in the van, sans 'Weedy' and go post our flier at the entrance to the neighborhood. Thankfully, the rest is all downhill from there. Baths were a welcome relief (for me) and removed any all all skin lichens the kids may have unknowingly retained by caressing your random lost animal. Bedtime was filled with many prayers for this special friend who came into our lives.
I even found myself having a fitful sleep that night - worried about the dog. Would the shelter take the animal? Did I have to set up an appointment? What if they thought it was my own I was trying to pass off as a stray? What time would they open? Would the owners think to look there? I was up early in the morning looking for the number. I thought I'd check on the dog and see how she made it through the night. She didn't.
She was no where in sight. I looked everywhere in the backyard. Evidently, we weren't the kind of family she wanted rescuing her and she dug her way out to better pickings. I was nervous about breaking this news to the kids. Bennett's response was, "Great. We lost a lost dog."
Yep. That pretty much sums the whole fiasco up.
Evidently, Chloe has been trying to wade through the murky waters of the concept of time. History is spoken of, taught, read about and discussed a lot in this house. We just can't seem to get enough of it. You might even call me a history junkie of sorts. Not that I could spout off random dates and facts to you, my mind doesn't work that way. I love history for the stories and for the lessons you learn from them. So, I'm forever telling the kids stories from history so they can make modern day connections to those same lessons.
In order to make the story understandable to Bennett and Chloe, however, I have to discuss time in very broad, sweeping strokes. For instance, 'A Long Time Ago' or 'Back Then' could mean Creation or the Civil War or when Grandma and Grandpa were kids - it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that they weren't there and that's pretty much all they care about. They normally ask, "Was I still in heaven when this happened?" This is normally our reference point. When you're 4 and 6 you still have a very egocentric world view (how sad that many 30, 40 and 50 year olds still do too).
Anyways, every other Monday the kids and I deliver food to the elderly at a Senior Apartment complex in our city. We were stopped by several old ladies in hall and enjoying visiting with each other for quite a well. They did a lot of reminiscing of days gone by. Fine by me, I love to listen to their stories. As we parted ways, Chloe asked me, "Mommy, are we in the back thens?"
I could totally see her point of view. Here we were with a bunch of old ladies talking about 'back then', so she just assumed we were experiencing it. I told her, "No Honey. Those ladies lived in the 'back thens' but we're not there right now - we're just talking about when they were little girls."
Time is such a funny thing in the eyes of children. I just adore seeing those wheels turning and watching as their brain processes information we take for granted.
I was taught an invaluable lesson by my children tonight. Humility. I was humbled by the wisdom God gave them and they shared with me. I was humbled by the love, forgiveness and acceptance they showed me anyways. I was humbled to see the ugly condition of my heart. Let me explain:
Today was almost a perfect day. It was my daughter's fourth birthday. As is tradition, we spent a majority of the day at the Arboretum. We came home to a wonderful, family celebration of opening presents and eating cake. We dressed up for dinner and even got to dance with one another after dinner, per Chloe's request. Could it have been any better? No.
And then came bed time. It all seemed to come about so fast. All of the sudden we were herding them up to their beds, making them clean up their rooms as well as finish their dinner chores. Chloe was having none of that and she put her foot down hard. She ended up throwing quite a royal temper tantrum. I kept my cool during the first one. But by the second one and her refusal to apologize, I lost it. I couldn't handle a perfect day ending up so horribly. I left my poor but patient husband to clean up the mess. I had to go fume.
And boy, did I feel justified...just look at what effort we went through to make this an extraordinary day for our baby, not to mention the hours of pain staking labor I put into making a special cake for her from Family Fun magazine. I just couldn't believe she would be so selfish as to let this wonderful day come to such a demise. That is, until Chuck came to talk to me.
He told me how I needed to separate her yucky choice from the sweet, little girl she is. How I can still be saddened by her response to the close of the day without being mad at her and thinking of her as selfish. He told me I was throwing as big a tantrum as her by letting her actions affect me so. He told me not to throw my expectations of how I think she should be on her and love her for how and who she is right now. Ouch. Lastly, he explained his theory as to why he thinks she acted out the way she did. He thinks she was sad to see such a fun day come to an end so abruptly. So she dug her heels in and fought it tooth and nail. Why didn't I see it? She was just sad.
I'd eaten enough humble pie and knew it was time to go upstairs and say goodnight to the children. I went to see the boys first. Gavin sat straight up and said, "Mom, I think I know why people argue. It's because they don't take the time to see each other's point of view. If we would just try to look at the other person's point of view, we might never have an argument." How much worse could it get? Did I really need to hear this from him right now? Evidently that and more so. "And another thing Mom, I've noticed that at the end of really fun days, you get really snappy. I think its just because of how hard you worked and you're just real tired." Then I chose to finish his sentence for him because I knew I had to...."but that doesn't excuse it. I can't let my circumstances control my actions. I'm so sorry guys. I hate being a snappy mommy." Of course they lavished forgiveness on me.
Then Gavin pretty much told me the same thing Chuck did as to why he thinks Chloe was so upset at bedtime. My heart ached so bad for how my selfishness had hurt the people I loved most, all because I didn't take the time to look through their eyes at the situation. The easy way is to lord your authority over a small child. It's much harder to act graciously yet firmly setting boundaries. Another ouch. I was too choked up to say another word. Then Bennett had to go and give me his two cents.
He advised me about how he handles frustration at the end of his day. He says, "Mom, when I'm frustrated at the end of the day I just take a deep breath and let it all out. That's all." It really is that simple, isn't it? And it took these precious souls to sear it deep into my heart.
I ran to Chloe's room, woke her up and apologized from the bottom of my heart for not really listening to her, for not taking the time to just sit and reminisce over the most wonderful day of her four little years, for being insistent on my way. Confession is good for the soul. We cuddled a long time after that, my heart breaking the whole time for the baby who is now a little girl.
Turns out I was the selfish, stubborn, non-listening one who ruined the eve of this most wonderful day. Who knew?
Another day...another lesson learned, the hard way. Thank God for grace!
...lived my children and their alter egos. They each have their own 'world' with rules, languages and people. It's amazing to me how much these worlds mirror their own daily lives with the exception that they are the ones in control, not Mommy or Daddy. I guess this is their coping mechanism for dealing with the unfair and unjust treatment periodically disposed on them by their captors in this, the present and real world that they are forced to live in. Thus begins the saga...
(note: all stories have been authenticated and fully explained by the main inhabitant of said world.
Chloeworld
This is a big city. It stretches from Daddy's room to the upstairs couch. Her Mommy name is Sarah and she is 25, but her kid name is Chloe. Her main kid is Baby and she is 12. She also has other kids whose names are Flank (age 12) and Lessaneen and Kless (both 2). Her friend is Jefanina and she is 12 and plans on staying to her house forever (her exact phraseology). There are several dresses they like to wear here, they are: a Barbie dress, a snow white dress (but she doesn't know where it is), a bride dress and her 'becital' (translated: recital) dress. Her becital is in March where they show people dances.
(post script: at this phase of the dictation, the main inhabitant of this world ran off to demonstrate the dances to be seen at said becital)
Bennettworld
If you are lucky enough to live in this world, you would herald yourself a 'Bennetonian'. This is a fabulous place. Everyone who lives here is part of Bennett's family - thus, this is a highly social planet. However, he has declared himself King. Everyone here has a house made out of Three Musketeers candy bars with Mike and Ikes for the roofs. They love cereal, chocolate and caramel. They eat and play all day and then watch t.v the rest of the afternoon. If you live here, you can walk through walls, you have super vision (can see through stuff) as well as superb hearing. Add to that super strength, super speed and the ability to stretch very far...there's pretty much nothing you can't do. They enjoy playing football and basketball. You will also see a plethora of cheetahs, lions, jaguars, panthers, hawks and wolves - but they don't hurt you. If you can talk in random, nonsense speak, then you pretty much have the language of Bennetonians down pat.
Gavinworld
(preface: in the interest of saving time, this has been edited down to a shorter version. To understand and appreciate Gavinworld in it's entirety, you must go to it's official website: www.supergem.blogspot.com. This small, limited space doesn't begin to do it justice.)
Gavintalians have great t.v. that they spend 3 hours watching daily. There are skyscrapers reaching 20 miles into the sky. One fourth of the world is city and the other three fourths are forest and oceans. Everyone knows each other and calls each other "dude", but it comes out sounding like "dud". Each Gavitalian is outfitted with the following powers: supersonic hearing and vision as well as heat ray vision. This is solely for the purpose of staying aware of bad guys within the vicinity and knowing when to run away and hide.
The main inhabitant's name is Marsupial Garfbowl. His work is very similar to Superman's job. He works in the newspaper industry as well as working as a computer guy part-time on the side. They have really good jobs in Gavinworld such as: computers, making vehicles as well as fighting crime (that's only a night job).
SuperGavin (a.k.a. Marsupial Garfbowl when he's not fighting crime) is superstrong, can fly, has all kinds of vision: microscopic, telescopic, x-ray and heat. He is hurt proof and can hold his breath for 120 hours in order to fly into outerspace in case a crime fighting expedition takes him that way.
The people aren't as lazy as Bennetonian's (his words - not mine). They keep their house in good shape and love to play games such as Loot, Phase 10, Uno, Ziggity, Yahtzee and Star Wars video games. You will also be pleased to know that they have great libraries here - all the books you want along with a great cataloging system. Gavintalians are also very smart!
Everything is ranked here in Gavinworld, even the chocolate. The rankings are as follows: The category of Best goes to Milk Chocolate. The rest are listed in descending order: Green Chocolate, White Chocolate and lastly Dark Chocolate.
In Gavinworld one never gets sick. Bonus! They have special counting techniques. Follow closely, it can get a little confusing. Begin counting as normal, however, once you reach 29 continue on with 20-10, 20-11, 20-12, 20-13 and so forth. This practically doubles the amount of numbers. Swell.
And there you have it. I'm amazed at how often the Real world and these other worlds collide. I often wander between worlds in a daze, never exactly sure where I am and who I'm speaking to. Just one more way they mess with my mind. But I've got to admit - I love it!
You would think my children live with Miss Manners. I'm a stickler for being polite - to each other as well as others.. It's almost as if they come from the womb with the innate knowledge that I expect them to precede each opening of the mouth with the utterance "excuse me". Either I'm forever saying it, so they are parroting me or I just harp on them about it way too much.
Gavin, being the first born, was ever conscientious about living up to my expectations and always trying to please me. He uttered that beautiful phrase with such precision. I was (and still am) a proud Mom. He was very articulate as a toddler. It was just adorable to hear with his little pip-squeak voice, "Uh, ex-quuuuze me Mommy, but I need to go potty." Music to a mother's ears. To this day, when he begins a sentence to anyone, it starts with "excuse me". He is determined not to be rude! He doesn't speak with much force in his voice (at least to strangers - he seems to reserve the loud, excitable voice for indoor use with us only). How many 9 year olds do you hear talking to their friends, "Excuse me [best friend], would you like to go climb on that tree over there?"
Then there's Bennett....there's always Bennett. The one forever making a joke out of things that aren't even funny. I'm envisioning my little 18month old toddler who seemed to forever have a wet shirt from a faucet of never-ending drool spouting from some invisible hole in his chin. He always wore a smirk on his face. You couldn't help but laugh when looking at him. That only seemed to fuel his fire. And remember, this is the kid that talked in triplicate EVERYTIME he spoke. "No, no, no" or "eat, eat, eat" or even now it's "look, look, look". He had such a low voice. We've always jokingly called him our 'little cartoon'. Well, why would being polite be any different? Combine that low voice, wet chin, mischievous grin with the "foo me, foo me, foo me". How could anyone take that seriously? Foo me was his way of saying "excuse me". So, say for example, he was wanting Gavin's attention this is what you would hear, "foo me, foo me, foo me, vuh-vuh, vuh-vuh, vuh-vuh!" He might have accomplished being polite (technically), but he certainly didn't accomplish the not interrupting and being rude part. I guess we should just tackle one issue at a time.
Then along comes Miss Priss. Everything she does has to be precise and perfect. She has no qualms correcting anyone who mispronounces something or misreads a page in a book that she has already memorized. Since all she has ever heard is some version of "excuse me" before her brothers ever talk, the precedent had been set. She is now fully aware of what is right and what is inappropriate. In her world, saying "excuse me" is best done with an airy, princess, mommy voice (you can go ahead and assume here that I always speak this way). Therefore, in order to get everyone's full attention she properly and politely says, "Foo-meet, but I would like to play wif wuu." (of course 'foo meet' is princess for "excuse me"). When no one responds (because no one can actually hear the airy princess voice), she has had enough and yells at the top of her lungs, "Foo meet!!!! Fumone peeeeez play wif me!!! NOW!"
I don't know that any of those qualify as being overly polite...but we're heading down the right path...I hope.
At some random point in the day today, my sweet boy came up to me and declared, "Mom, I don't know why, but I really like to impress the girls." I guess he's been having a few deep thoughts lately. I smiled, rubbed his head and said, "I know, Sweetheart!" At the same time, Chloe, who was close by also responded, "Bennett, you impress me." What greater compliment could a sister give a brother who likes to impress girls. The world is in perfect harmony today...let's try to keep it that way.
I come from a family with a long line of tooth fairy issues. Growing up, I never knew when or even if the magical fairy would come. I even had a beautifully embroidered pillow with my name on it and a teeny, tiny pocket made especially for my tooth. I remember waiting as long as a week in some cases for the tooth fairy to grace me with her invisible presence. Not that I'm bitter or anything...just that that little piece of background information is crucial for understanding this story.
My sweet boy just recently lost both of his front teeth - in the same day no less. That's an interesting story right there...let's detour for a bit and retell the tale...
Last Wednesday, Bennett pined away all day about his wiggly, danglely, loose, front tooth. I offered multiple times to pull it out for him. He refused. Gavin offered to tie a string to it and the other end to our dog's tail. He still refused. He much more enjoyed the 'whine all day so that everyone knows' method and hoped it would painlessly fall out as he sat upon his bottom doing nothing. He dislikes pain, even the slightest bit. Actually, he dislikes the thought of pain more than the actual pain.
Miraculously (and this could have only happened to Bennett), as he sat down for dinner, he reached up to wiggle his tooth one last time with his fingers and it just sort of fell out - no blood, no fan fare, no fireworks. Just...there you go...even a little boring, if you asked me. But, we made the customary fuss over it and took pictures. It was a wonderful dinner getting to eat in peace and quiet without hearing about Bennett's wiggly tooth for the umpteenth time.
But after dinner is when the good stuff happens. I went out running and wasn't even gone 3 minutes when I get a phone call from Chuck. I started to panic cuz he never calls me when I'm running, so there must have been a true emergency. Turns out, as the story goes, Gavin and Bennett were out front playing 'kill the carrier' (a rough and tumble football game that I've never had a desire to play). When all of the sudden, Gavin decides to stop in his tracks as Bennett is sprinting after him, obviously with his mouth wide open. Bennett rams into Gavin at full force and blood gushes everywhere. Come to find out both front teeth were actually loose, but the one that came out this time, needed a little bit more pressure before it decided to tear free from it's home for the past 6 years. Chuck said the tears lasted a good 30 minutes. The high-pitched piggy squeel, which he is well known for, went on and on and on.
You would think he would be thrilled that now he would get to put 2 teeth under his pillow. But no, this is Bennett. He is still seething over the inconsiderate act of his brother suddenly stopping in the middle of the playing field and for making him bump into him, thereby causing the premature loss of his other front tooth. It's all Gavin's fault. He knows how to play the victim well.
So, before bed, I told Bennett that I wouldn't mind writing the tooth fairy a note explaining that his brother actually caused the other tooth to dislocate sooner than expected and should get part of the reward money. He wasn't falling for that one either. I told him that if he wanted all the money, then he would have to stop blaming Gavin and just enjoy the fact that he was going to get a visit from the tooth fairy tonight. How exciting! He bought my psychology and went to bed a happy, front-toothless camper.
Might I add one side note that is also crucial to the story. A few days prior to this turn of events. We read "The Berenstain Bears Go To The Dentist". In this lovely little dram that my children take as gospel truth, Sister Bear looses her tooth and wakes up to find a shiny, new coin under her pillow. This is now the gold standard, anything less or different - wrong.
So, that night, the tooth fairy actually showed up! What do you know! In all my years I'd never seen such a punctual tooth fairy. This fairy decided to leave a whole dollar bill in place of the two teeth set precariously under his pillow. From what we gathered by later discussing this issue with the fairy, was that he/she assumed that because of the traumatic loss of one tooth and the ordinary loss of the other, a little extra compensation should be involved. Normally, we were told, a single quarter would have sufficed - but this case was filled with extenuating circumstances.
At some undetermined time in the middle of the night, the recipient of this new found wealth, stormed into our bedroom, marched over to my side of the bed and with a teary lisp shoved the folded up dollar bill in my face and said, "I only got a one! Mom, I only got a one and I losh 2 tooths. And I can't find them anywhere. I've looked under my pillow. I think they fell under my bed and its too dark and........waaaaaahhhh." I had no comprehension of what was just told me. All I know was that I could vaguely make out a dollar bill somewhere near the tip of my nose and I indeed saw a "1" on it. So, I concluded, this must be the "1" Bennett was talking about. I told him that a "1" was alot of money, that the tooth fairy was extra nice to him. He didn't care, it was still a "1". He said, "...but Sister got a shiny, new coin...".
Oh...I see where this is going...so now I'm having to explain math concepts in the middle of the night. "Honey," I use my most calming voice, "the tooth fairy must have thought you might like a whole dollar which would have been the same as 4 shiny, new quarters, but evidently the tooth fairy didn't have any quarters." He was so distraught, he laid his head on my chest and cried and cried. I told him to go back to bed and sleep tight. Which he did. The dramatic moment of the night before was never even mentioned at breakfast.
In order to prevent tragedies such as these in the future, I hereby decree that there should be some Global Standard that tooth fairies everywhere should follow thereby, limiting the number tooth fairy complaints taken by us innocent parents.
Of course this story is set at the dinner table...aren't most of our crazy stories? This one is no exception. Everyone (except the adults) seemed to be in a goofy mood and felt like describing themselves and their siblings with many interesting adjectives. I was not liking where this was heading so instead of revoking speaking privileges I opted for a more creative, organic method to get my crazy, parenting advice into their still susceptible, little minds. I chose to tell them a story.
I recalled how, in a bygone era, maybe 12 years ago, when I attended college (in actuality it seems more like 20 years ago!), I had a class where we were supposed to introduce ourselves to everyone. Not such an odd request. But this teacher wanted us to really remember everyones' names, so she got creative. She explained that we were to stand up and say our name, but we were to precede it with a character quality of ourselves (preferably a positive one) that started with the same letter as our first name. Once the class was finished introducing ourselves, we played a little game of memory to see how many people could remember each others' names. Surprisingly, we all remembered because we had something to associate it with (obviously, this was a marketing class).
Not that I'm trying to teach my children to 'market' themselves, but I do want them to remember that their words have meaning. I also wanted them to think about how they want others to remember them. So we collectively tried thinking of character qualities for each person in the family. Each person decided on their favorite; thankful for the input from the others. Interestingly enough, most of us chose an adjective that someone else suggested.
Without further ado, let me introduce my family (and me):
Careful Chole
Benevolent Bennett
Good Gavin
Considerate Cori
Challenging Chuck
Excellent (Exiled) Elizabeth
A few of these need explaining, I know. First of all, I did not call my husband a 'challenge' as in a negative term. I came up with the word challenging because he loves to challenge the norms and think outside of the box. It was between 'challenging' and 'chivalrous' and he chose the one he liked best. Gavin does not like to mince words. He prefers to get right to the point. Chuck and I were spitting out G adjectives left and right. Instead, he chose his own, no-fuss, simple description which fits him perfectly.
Bennett was delighted when Daddy suggested 'benevolent' he didn't know what it meant, but it sure sounded good. It was better than his idea of 'bouncy'. I tried to explain that a character quality describes who you are, not what you do. Maybe this is a concept a bit above his head. Either way, who he is is definitely summed up beautifully in his character description. Chloe has an amazing attention to detail at just 3 years old. I'm always astounded. She's also not a risk taker and she is very precise. I think 'careful' depicts all those qualities perfectly.
Elizabeth (the dog)...there's a whole other blog. The kids came up with 'excellent'. Chuck and I, on the other hand, chose the word 'exiled' because...well, let's just say she's not in the 'inner-core' of the family and she's outside alot. And I just chose the old stand-by from my college days, hoping it would still apply. The family agreed and voila!
Maybe tomorrow night at dinner we'll come up with an acrostic for each of our names (NOT!).
You know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words...well, unfortunately I don't have a picture of this happening but luckily I have the 'thousand words'.
Yep, I'm the moron. This is not my typical modus operandi, but for whatever reason, I threw all sanity out the window tonight.
You see, my friend and I were running this course in preparation for our 5K coming up. It is not where we typically run, so we're trying to prepare for the terrain difference and extra distance it involves. It's a beautiful run, gorgeous, upscale area, very neat, trim and manicured. So, we're running along when all of the sudden I feel a 'plop' on my leg. Oh my gosh - a bird just pooped on me! I was SO grossed out! (I know I'm starting to sound 'valley girl' again). Oh yes, and I'm wearing shorts.
I could think of nothing but this gross mass on my thigh. I kept looking at it and begging my friend to let me stop and get it off (she's a tough, but awesome trainer). She finally relented and I went running off to a nice green patch of manicured grass just off the side walk and threw myself upon the green patch face first. The 'grossness' was on my upper thigh near my knee. The only thing I could think of was lay on the grass and wipe it off. But being that it was on the front of my leg...hmmm...this created quite an obstacle. Picking up pieces or clumps of grass was out of the question because much of the grass around here is still dormant for the winter. I had already claimed the only green patch around.
So, I just started writhing around on my stomach on the ground dragging my leg behind me like it suddenly went limp. It didn't all come off on the first try. So, I had to wiggle around and pretend like I was a worm a little while longer. All the while my friend is standing on the sidewalk trying to pretend she doesn't know me while laughing hysterically at the scene I'm causing. And yes, there were cars passing by.
Obviously, I could have cared less what people thought of me, I had poop on my leg that was the only thing on my mind - I could not stand for that! After a few awkward minutes we resumed our run without a hitch, as if it never happened. You just never know what you'll do in a situation until it happens to you. Well...I can now assume that whatever the situation, my response to it will most likely be moronic.
I can only pray the same bird doesn't target me during our 5K. I'd hate to have to pull that stunt in front of all the participants. This is NOT supposed to be a comedic event.
Should I even have to make this a rule? For small humans?
Of course it is Bennett that it applies to. He's like a little woodchuck over at his place just gnawing down on a piece of....anything...he can gnaw a sandwich, a cookie, an apple slice, a strawberry. You name it, he can gnaw. It takes unprecedented skill. Obviously, we've given him ample opportunity to practice.
It's just one of those things that hits you one day. Wait a minute there, did I just see Bennett gnawing that piece of meat? How long has this been going on? Why haven't I noticed this before? Have I been tacitly consenting to cavemen-like eating habits? Do I have one ounce of parenting ability in my body? How could this have slipped through my 'parent radar'? Of course this is all about me.
Therefore, I add one more utterly unexpected rule to my list of "Random Rules for Kids". The first rule: Do not bite the armoire, I learned that one the hard way. The second rule: Never say you don't need a stroller when you're going on a walk with 3 kids and one of them is only 3 months old and the other is not quite potty trained. (again, learned the hard way). And now my third ridiculous rule: No Gnawing.
If my 'learning things the hard way' can relieve the suffering of just one, new, inexperienced, gullible parent, then maybe I can continue to live with myself. Maybe there's some bigger, deeper reason to all my perils. These children will take advantage of as much as they can if they think you don't know 'all the (mysterious) rules'. Watch-out!
Another dinner in my house equals another night of unexpected surprises. For whatever reason, Bennett was standing by my chair during dinner and I reached over and planted a kiss on his nose. My children love to "rub them in" although, it would appear to any outsider, that they are wiping off their beloved mother's kiss.
As Bennett is rubbing his kiss in, he snorts and says he's rubbing it in extra good. We all bust a gut laughing. This, of course, was the last thing we expected from him. He's well known for his little piggy squeal cry, but I never knew he also had the capacity to snort so well and realistically. It was a kodak moment.
So now that he knows he can elicit a laugh from all of us, he starts snorting up a storm. He wants to have a contest to see who can snort the loudest. In the midst of our little 'contest' I stop and ask myself, "are these manners I hoped to be instilling in my children at the dinner table?" The obvious answer is "no" - but it was just so funny.
I so wish I had my camera. The face he makes when he snorts like a piggy is beyond funny. He looks up, tightens his neck and jaw muscles and then channels one of the loudest noises he can find within himself. We all had tears in our eyes from laughing so hard. Truly, there wasn't anything that could have been funnier to us at the time.
It appears Bennett gets this skill from Daddy.
I was awarded the 'quietest snort' award.
And Chloe, she got it all backwards. She couldn't snort in, she kept trying to blow air and noise out her nose. Something always ended up coming out of her mouth in my direction each time. Obviously, we need to spend a little more quality time giving Chloe guidance in this area.
Thankfully nobody choked on dinner during our little snort fest tonight.
Throughout the entire time, she's giving me tid-bits of mommy wisdom such as, "Kid. Daughter, I know much lotter than you. So, that's why you need to listen to me. Okay, kid?" or "Daughter, are you having a good day?" or "You are my kid, okay daughter, and I am in command of you." When it came time for clean up, she promptly reminded me that she was the Mommy and the kid always has to clean up, so "do it, okay daughter." What choice did I have?
