Lack of Understanding or Stubbornness?

~
My daughter is all about numbers lately. She could count to twenty by the time she was two, but she was just reciting the stupid number song I had taught her. But now she gets that numbers represent something... she goes around and counts everything she can. She wants to know how old people are. How many pets they have. How many cheerios are in her bowl. How many cars on the freeway.

So we were sitting in the car the other day and she was counting how many girls there were (2) versus how many boys (1). Then she started counting all of the white cars. Then she counted all of the gold fish she had in her cup. And then she moved on to ages.

"I'm three," she told me.

"Uh-huh," I murmured.

"Brother's two."

"That's right," I said absentmindedly.

"Daddy's thirty-five."

"Good."

"You're forty one."

"That's ri--wait, what? No, I'm not," I said a little desperately. "Girlie, don't add to Mommy's age. Mommy's only 31."

"That's what I said," Girlie said with exasperation. "You're forty one."

The little devil just shoved me over the hill.

Mommy vs. Auntie

~
Scenerio: My son pulls his shoe off at the park and proceeds to throw it at another little boy.

Mommy: (on it before the shoe makes it off his foot) No, honey, keep your shoes on, we don't take your shoes off at the park.

Auntie: I wonder why he's taking his shoe off... oh, he can't throw it that far... oh, yes he can! Ha!
(They had to leave the park after the other kid's mom got mad)

~
Scenerio: My daughter orders Momma and her Auntie not to talk.

Mommy: Girlie, I don't like it when you talk to us like that. It's very rude, and you are just a little girl. If you talk to us like that again, you will go to your room.

Auntie: (Turns to me) I can't talk to you any more because Girlie said I'm not allowed.

~
Scenerio: My children want cheetos - and only cheetos - for lunch.

Mommy: You can have some if you eat some cheese, apple slices, and sandwich too.

Auntie: That sounds good... do you guys want some juice to wash it down? Here's the bag of cheetos, can you guys share on your own? (Cheetos are now ground into my carpet.)

~
Scenerio: Girlie is crying because Boyo took her Barbie laptop away.

Mommy: We are going to share and take turns. Boyo, it's Girlie's turn right now. It can be your turn in one minute.

Auntie: (scoops up Boyo) If you give this back to Sissy, I'll buy you your own.

~
Scenerio: Other moms at the park are debating what kind of new car to get.

Mommy: (shamelessly eavesdropping and thinking) Oh, that's a good point. I'll have to tell my husband... what? Oh, you can't get that car with three kids and one on the way...

Auntie: (shamelessly eavesdropping and thinking) Are you kidding me? What is this, Desperate Housewives of North Orange County? Just buy a car all ready!

What would you do?

I'm flying up North to see my family this weekend. With Girlie and Boyo. By myself. The thought of it makes me slightly ill.

Girlie has flown several times before - no prob. She's easy - a new coloring book, a new box of crayons, and a juice cup and she will forget she's on a plane.

Boyo scares the bejeezus out of me. The last time he was on a plane he was six months old. And he is not a calm, listen-to-Mommy-follow-directions-type of toddler.

I'm scared that this is going to happen.

So I'm scared of the flight, excited for the challenge, and wondering if my belief in my ability to handle two toddlers on an airplane is stronger than my actual ability to handle two toddlers on an airplane.

And, as I do with everything, I'm planning ahead like crazy. DVD player, check. New toys, check. Enough snacks to get us through a week, check. A change of clothes, check. 100 diapers, check.

Each kid gets their own seat. And hence, my predicament...

...do I drag Boyo's carseat through the airport so I can put him in his seat, thereby restraining him for the flight? The thought of dragging it through the airport, with two kids and all their sh#$ is a very daunting task.

...or do I check it and hope and pray (hard), that my son will sit docilely on the airplane, trapped between me and the window, and calmly eat snacks, drink juice, and watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. The thought of him refusing to do sit quietly, possibly (probably) screaming, climbing, and doing God knows what else, is also very daunting.

What would you do?

I finally got one!!

I've mentioned a few times that taking pictures of my kids together don't always go as planned. In fact, I mentioned it here. And here.

Still... the gods have smiled. I got a perfect one for their Valentine's Day card. And it has only taken me two years.

I don't even care that they are still in pj's and don't match.

Some people shouldn't be nurses/ultrasound technician people.

~
I've been very candid about my son's health problems.

Thankfully, we seem to be at the end of the road (knock wood). He's off his meds. He doesn't have to go to the doctor weekly anymore. I no longer go into over protective, get your germs away from my kid mother mode any time someone sneezes in his vicinity. He's sleeping through the night (sort of). And I haven't even gone into his room at night to check if he was breathing in at least a week. Okay, so I snuck in yesterday. And the day before that. Sue me.

There was just one more test... a heart echo. For those of you who have never had this procedure, you lie on a bed with your shirt off while a nurse or ultrasound technician person runs a wand over your chest, recording all sorts of stuff - size, beat, chambers, etc. Pretty easy if you are an adult. Pretty much sucks if you are two and don't understand.

Still, I went in prepared. Girlie had a plethora of snacks and crafts to keep her occupied and out of my hair so I could focus on Boyo. He had the DVD player and a new Elmo DVD. When we were ready to get started, I took off his shirt, climbed up on the cot with him, and held him in my arms.

He did great! Didn't even notice... until the end. The nurse/ultrasound technician person said, "Great, I need you to hold his head to the side."

"Uh, what?" I asked.

"I need to get under his chin for the last part of the echo."

Now, I am not a nurse/ultrasound technician person, so I didn't question it, but I wanted to ask why she needed to scan his neck when his heart was in his chest. Did she get lost?

My son was not happy to have me press his head sideways. He began to cry, and the nurse/ultrasound technician person said, "We need him to be quiet."

Good luck with that, lady.

"How long do I have to hold him for?" I asked.

"About five minutes," she said, jamming the wand into his neck.

Are you freaking kidding me?!?

So I pinned my son down to the cot, while he wept silent tears that fell into my hands. I sang to him and whispered nonsense to try to soothe. I promised him a trip to the 99 Cent Store and McDonald's. I told him I would take him to Disneyland. I told him that daddy would bring home M&Ms. Anything to make him happy.

He didn't scream or wail, but his tears continued to fall and his chest heaved with great big silent, gulping sobs. And even though it broke my heart, I was handling it.

Right up until the moment my 3 year old crept over to the cot, patted her brother's leg and said, "It's okay, brother, you are so brave! You don't have to cry." So naturally, I started to cry.

Nurse/Ultrasound Technician Person finished and said, "Well, hopefully that will do. Toward the end I think we picked up your and your daughter's talking. We really need quiet you know."

I gritted back a nasty retort (since my daughter would have cheerfully repeated it for ages), and said, "Well, if the doctors don't like it, they can bring him for a heart echo."

What ever happened to bedside manner?

Division of Property

~

My son thinks all toys at our house should be community property.

My daughter thinks every toy at our house should be hers.

This makes for very interesting fights. New rule: you fight over it, it's Momma's. (Although I'm not quite sure what I am going to do with a toy collection of 23 matchbox cars, 2 barbie dolls, a soccer ball, and a bubble wand).

Still, sometimes the little darlings fool me. They play so well for a few minutes, that I forget they don't share and leave the room.

I invariably return at a run 30 seconds later to a fighting, screaming, crying ball of children who have thrown themselves together in furious tug of war over who gets whatever stupid toy they are fighting over

Still, this morning, they were playing side by side. Boyo had his cars. Girlie had her princess dolls. I told them I was going to take a shower.

My mistake.

I came running two minutes later, dripping wet, shampoo in my eyes, towel wrapped around me as I yanked the two of them apart and sent them to separate corners.

The toy that caused the melee?

A Princess Aurora doll.

My son kept screaming: "Aurora! Car! Aurora! Car!" Apparently, he wanted to take Aurora for a spin in one of his matchbox cars. After all, she's his girlfriend, having pushed Abby Cadabby out of the running.

My daughter was inconsolable. "Princess Dolls are for girls!" she kept shrieking, holding her arm in such a manner that made me think her brother had bitten her. But since he knows biting earns him a trip to the penalty box, and she knows that he gets in trouble for it, I didn't ask. I didn't have the energy to try to figure out if she was lying or not.

So I was torn... yes, the Aurora doll was Girlie's - my mom had bought it for her during Gam-Gam's last visit. On the other hand, I really don't mind if my son takes a hot blond girl out for a spin.

So now I have an Aurora doll to add to my toy collection.

Depictions of Daddy

My daughter drew a picture of her daddy today.

"That's great," I told her. "What is that brown circle in the middle?"

"The baby in his tummy," she said nonchalantly.

Is 3 too young for an anatomy lesson?

I Guess I'm Doing Something Right...

~
Girlie came up to me today and told me she was going to read me a story. She then proceeded to grab my When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women From 1960 to the Present and randomly flipped it open.

[I tried really hard to not wince when she started with "Once Upon a Time..."]

"Once upon a time, there was princess named Snow White," she 'read,' "and she had a naughty Queen who sent her to live with the dwarfs. Grumpy is my favorite. Snow White fell asleep after eating an apple -- see, Mommy, I told you apples are bad! -- and the prince came and kissed her and she woke up and they lived happily every after."

"Wow," I said. "Did Snow White go to college?"

"Yes," Girlie said, nodding vigorously. "And so did Cinderella."

"That's really good!" I told her. "It's important to use your smarts! What did Cinderella and Snow White learn about at college?"

"How to be a princess," Girlie said with a total duh-attitude.

At least she thinks going to college is important.

I may have to find magician classes for my daughter.

~

Girlie: "Mommy, can I play with stamps?"

Me: "No, not while Brother is awake. It's too messy."

Girlie: "Oh, I can only play when he goes to sleep?"

Me: (working) "Uh-huh."

Girlie: "What if he disappears?"

Me: (still working) "Maybe."

Girlie: (hits her brother on the head with her magic wand) "HOCUS-POCUS! Mommy, I made brother disappear!! Can I play with stamps now?"

Boyo: "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Randomness...

~
My sister asked me when the fatigue symptom of pregnancy is supposed to be over. I told her a year after the youngest child leaves the house. I don't think it was the answer she wanted.

~
I was watching The Middle last week (if you don't watch it, you must. Absolutely hilarious.) And this scene made me roll on the floor with laughter:

Teenager: "What do babies have to do with sex anyway?"

Mom: "They ruin it."

Yup.

~
I just saw a book entitled I Love You Even Though... My favorite was "I love you even though you think shoving a beer up a chicken's butt makes you a culinary genius." It got me thinking... what would be my I Love You Even Though...?

~
I went to Taco Tuesday the other night with girlfriends. Since I'm pregnant, I couldn't drink. You know what? I still had as much fun as if I could.

~
I'm on the gestational diabetes diet for this pregnancy. It blows. The dietican tried to make me feel better though: "Think about how thin you will be after you give birth!" You know what? I would rather be fat and get to eat cheesecake.

~
My friend asked me how I could be so sure I was having a boy. I told her that only a man would make me this sick and tired.

~
I forgot how dangly earrings can make me feel so pretty and "finished."

~
I bribed my children to be good at the post office by telling them we would go to the 99 Cent store afterwards. Hey, after the last post office outing, I wasn't going to risk it. When we finished up our postal business, my daughter turned to me and said, "I want a gun at the store."

Without even thinking about it, I replied, "No guns."

She sighed, then turned to her brother and said, "Guns are only for pirates."