My Children Are Growing Up To Fast

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Last night, I sat up, heart pounding, certain that I had heard my daughter cry. I went and tiptoed into her room, prepared to soothe and settle when I realized that she was sound asleep, curled up in her twin bed, a book next to her. I put the book away, tucked her foot under her blanket, and kissed her cheek.

So I went into my son's room, thinking that in my sleepy state, I misinterpreted the cry. Nope. He was face down in his big boy bed, arms and legs sprawled out, his blanket kicked to the floor. I covered him up, kissed his little head, and went back to bed.

Where I stared at the ceiling for an hour.

My babies are growing up, I thought. This thought ran repeatedly through my head like an annoying ticker on CNN.

The echoes of my babies' cries have not faded from my little house and I already have two big kids.

Instead of cuddling a little baby girl, I have to bit my tongue when my daughter says, "Yes, Mother? What can I do for you, Mother?" when I call her name. I went from Momma to Mother awfully fast. And she's three, for the love of God.

Instead of soothing a colicky baby, I have to sit back and let my son try to dress himself when he grabs he clothes from my hands and says, "No! Mine do!" How is this possible? Didn't I bring him home from the hospital last week?

I love that my kids are growing up. And I hate it too.

Teaching Stuff...

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Why am I always surprised at the number of students who suddenly care about their grade a week before the final?

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To the parents who believe their child doesn't ever, ever tell a lie, allow me to give you a tip: if I call you and tell you that your child is not doing work, and your child tells you that they are working when you ask them about it -- I'm not lying.

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I need to make a recording of the following: "No, I am not going to give you extra credit so you can pass when you haven't done any work all semester." It would save me a lot of time if I could just hit play instead of repeating myself over and over and over and over....

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I have got to stop laughing and then saying, "Oh, wait, seriously?" when my students ask me when the final is.

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The day of the final is not the best time to tell me you don't understand the causes of World War II.

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No, I will not give you extra credit because you saw The King's Speech.

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A tip to my students: Stop gripping about taking the final. I have to grade 200 of them. Do you hear me complaining?

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No, we are not going to pretend you took the final because no one will know.

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How is it that I can email my students the last date work is due, I can post the last date work is due on my web page, and I can tell my students daily in class the last day work is due, but I will still get 15 emails from students asking me, "Ms. G, what is the last day work is due?"

Things I Wonder...

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... does my husband think I'm the sock fairy?

... what was my daughter thinking when she tried to shove a Trix up her nose?

... why does my son have this burning obsession to color on every wall in my house?

... do my children have an internal alarm clock that prompts them to cry the moment I lay down to go to bed?

... how can my children trash a room in the 3.1 seconds it takes me to answer the phone?

... what was my son was saying when he babbled to himself during the homily today? It sounded like he was having a conversation with the priest.

... who taught my daughter to whine "It's not fa-air!" for hours on end when she doesn't get her way?

Boy or Girl?

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To say I don't like surprises would be the understatement of the year. (And since we are only one week into the new year, that's saying a lot.)

I'm almost 12 weeks pregnant and I'm going crazy -- I want to know if I'm having a boy or girl. I want to know right now. Which is pretty difficult, because a doctor can't tell with an ultrasound until about week 18.

But still... I am positively twitchy to find out. And then I remembered something a friend gave me as a gift when I was pregnant with my son: INTELLIGENDER.

Basically, its a pee test you can take as early as 10 weeks. You pee in a cup that has magic crystals in it, and if your pee turns a grayish orange, you are having a girl. And if your pee turns a grayish green, you are having a boy.

When I was pregnant with my son, my pee turned black and bubbly and fizzed out of the cup. I contacted Intelligender to ask if that meant I was having a demon. They told me no, I was having a boy. (Although, some days with my son, I think my demon thought is fitting...)

Anyway, I wanted the Intelligender test. But it costs a small forture ($25 at Target, $35 on their website), and it's not a doctor approved test; it's just for fun. They claim to be about 90% right on their website. Discussion boards claim they are about 60% right. So my husband looked at me like I was nuts when I asked for it.

"Twenty five dollars for a test that is basically fifty-fifty?" he asked me in shock. "No way - you can wait until the ultrasound. We both can."

HOWEVER, Santa must have heard my wish, because there it was: an Intelligender test in my Christmas stocking! And I was 10 weeks along Christmas morning, perfect! I ran to the bathroom to take the test.

I saw green gray for a boy.

My husband saw orange gray for a girl.

Damn it.

Why My Son Wants Me To Put Him To Bed Every Night

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I work from home, so that means that I'm with my kids all day long. So when the school year started, my husband and I decided (that is, I decreed) my husband would bathe and put our children to bed 5 nights a week so they can have "Daddy time" and I can have "Me time."

Lately, though, my son has been refusing to go to bed unless I read him Sleeping Beauty and Good Night Moon. I love spending time with my son, but I was curious to know what had happened to my "Me time." So I listened the other night as my husband put Boyo to bed:

"Sleeping Beauty? Again?! Okay," my husband sighed. "Once upon a time there was a king and queen and they had a baby. Three old lady fairies came and wanted to give her gifts. She got beauty and song. Then the mean fairy Maleficent showed up and said the princess Aurora would prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die, which is really lame. The third old lady fairy said she wouldn't die, she would just go to sleep -- which is what you need to do. The three old lady fairies took the baby away. Everyone was so sad.

"Sixteen years later the three old lady fairies made a mess in the cottage and the princess was dancing with the animals because she was weird. Then Prince Philip came out of the bushes because he's a stalker and danced with her. Then the princess went back to the castle with the three old ladies. Maleficent showed up and told the Princess to touch the spinning wheel and she did it because she couldn't think for herself. The three old lady fairies put everyone to sleep and then went to get Prince Philip. Prince Philip killed Maleficent and kissed Sleeping Beauty and they lived happily ever after. The end, good night."

My son pulled his binky out of his mouth, glared at my husband, and demanded: "MOMMA!"

I get the shift in bed time routine now.

A Saturday Night At Our House

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It began after bath time, when my daughter took the tin whistle flute my parents brought back from Ireland for her, spun it around, and used it like a wand.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" she said. "May I have your attention, please! I am a magic trick doer person, and I am going to do a magic trick!"

I put down the book I was reading to her brother, choked back my laughter, and asked, "And what trick are you going to do?"

She pranced over to me, smacked me on the head with her flute, and said: "Hocus Pocus! I have now made you the Baby Jesus!"

Awesome.

Crazy Things My Girlie Says

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"When I grow into a boy, can I still wear dresses?"

"I don't want to get burned... do I?"

"I don't know how to color, I got short hands."

"I'm going to be the princess and Brother is going to be the monster. And then I'm going to save myself because I'm a strong, pendent girl!!"

(after I got my hair cut) "Don't worry, Momma, it will grow back."

"I don't want my hair cut, it will hurt me." (For those of you who don't know, my daughter only has a little cap of blonde hair.)

"Christmas is over!! Now it's time for Halloween!"

(Christmas night, as she's falling asleep) "When Santa comes back tonight, will you tell him I want a scooter?"

"Momma, I love you always!"

Why I'm Tired

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11:31 pm: I went to bed.

11:42 pm: Boyo had a terrible nightmare; he ran out of his room wailing and couldn't be comforted.

11:56 pm: I finally calm him down, but he refuses to go back into his bedroom. I let him climb into bed with my husband and I.

12:02 am: Just as I am starting to fall asleep again, I get whacked in the head with a binky and sit up to find my son demanding "Mow Mik!"

12:03 - 1:30 am: I won't detail all of it, but I spend the next hour and a half getting climbed all over, punched, kicked, snuggled, hair pulled, and ultimately shoved off the bed. Boyo won't go back to sleep.

1:32 am: I sit up, cuddle Boyo in my arms, and sing him a lullaby. There is a note of desperation in my voice. Or full fledged hysteria. I'm so tired, I can't tell.

2:09 am: Boyo finally falls asleep. He's sleeping sideways on our bed, and my husband and I have an inch and a half of bed to share. Whatever, I'll take it.

2:17 am: Just as I fall asleep, I hear my daughter screaming for me. The storm has scared her. And she's wet. I get her changed and pull her into bed with us, and she thinks this would be a great time to have a philosophical discussion. Hey, who's your favorite Disney Princess?

2:43: I finally get my daughter asleep. I have a 2 year old elbow in my ear, a three year old foot in my back, and my husband is snoring. Great. I ease myself out of bed and go to sleep in my son's room.

6:12 am: I wake up to find Girlie staring at me over the safety bar on the twin bed. "Momma?" she asks quizzically, "Why are you in Brother's bed? It's time to get up; it's light outside."

Round Two

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'"The time has come," the Walrus said... " (L. Carroll)

This is it. We're potty training the boy.

We were going to try the Three Day Potty Training Method. But several things convinced us that this might not be the best method for us:

1. I'm pregnant. And the amount of patience that I do have will not fill up a thimble.

2. The 3 Day Method calls for staying inside for two days with no TV. Well, you can go outside for an hour on day two and for two hours on Day 3. But still... Boyo starts to go crazy if we don't get him out of our house by 10 am every day. So 3 days, basically stuck inside, seems like a suicide mission.

3. He doesn't fit on toilet training potty seats. He's large and if we sit him on a toilet ring or a potty chair, he can't put his pee down; there's just not enough room. But he's still only two, so he doesn't fit on the adult toilet seat either without spreading his legs really wide.

4. He all ready gets it. He sees his sister use the toilet. He tells me when he is going potty or has to go potty. He runs to sit on the potty and then demands a sticker. So I don't see the need for a 3 day method.

So we started yesterday. When we are home, he wears underpants. (And they are so cute!) So far, we have had one accident and two successful potty trips. When we go out, he wears pull ups (which we call outside underwear). And he still wears a diaper to bed.

I say, "Tell Momma if you have to go potty," about once a minute. And he does. Sometimes we make it, sometimes we don't. When we go out, he looks at me and says "Potty" clear as day.

He still hasn't made it to a potty out of our house, but that will come with time. And he still hasn't gone number 2 in anything but his "Outside Underpants" but that will come too.

Our methods might not be what works for everyone, nor will some people agree with us. After all, we are breaking the cardinal rule: Once you start potty training, you can't go back to diapers/pull ups. You know what? I don't care.

I'm much more relaxed about this than I was with Girlie.

Rainbows and Circles

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I think a marriage works best if one person is able to go with the flow. You know what I mean - a person who doesn't get phased by changes in plans and can adapt easily, with a shrug of the shoulders when things don't go his way.

I wish I could say I was that person in my marriage.

I'm not.

I'm more of a takes-an-hour-to-get-over-the-slightest-disappointment type of person. My husband is the go with the flow person in our relationship. And sometimes, I really hate that. Yes, I appreciate it after the fact, but during whatever has me disappointed hearing him say, "Oh well. It'll be okay" really sets my teeth on edge.

This was never more apparent yesterday when my husband and I loaded the kids up in the car and went to the ReStore, Habitat for Humanity store in Garden Grove. I was so excited; I was like a giddy little school girl. Why was I so excited about going to a restore for your home needs?

See, we were going to look at kitchen counter tops. For those of you who don't know, our kitchen counter tops are H-I-D-E-O-U-S! White laminate. That stains. And is chipping. And I think are the original countertops from 1971. I HATE them. Actually, hate is not a strong enough word, but it will have to do.

Anyway, the kitchen counters have been on our to-do list for 5 years. And my husband is finally ready to take on this monumental task.

And the moment we walked into the store, my kids lost it. It had been raining forever (or six days), and they wanted to run. But we couldn't let them run in a home improvement store. So my husband scooped them up and loaded them back into the car. "We'll come back soon," he told me.

So there I was, sitting in the car, sulking. My visions of new countertops and me cooking on them were crumbling to dust when my daughter asked me if I was happy.

"No," I snapped. "I'm disappointed."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "We should find you a rainbow. That will make you happy. Or you should run around in circles. That always makes me happy."

I started laughing as I realized that my daughter is going to be a go with the flow type of person too.

Wonderful. I'm surrounded.