So I signed D up for Faith Formation and Wednesdays have become our new "Date Night" with each other AND God.
D was not thrilled at the prospect of being signed up for anything else (future commitment phob?) for the following reasons according to him:
1. It cuts into his playtime with friends and Legos
2. It could interfere with him getting his homework done (Really?)
3. He already knows all about God, he learned about him in preschool.
Wow. Am I a bad Catholic mom or what?
I inform him that this isn't necessarily to learn about God, it's to become closer to him so he can one day take Communion like Mommy. He doesn't seem as excited as I think he should be at the prospect.
And of course being the dutiful Catholic I am, I have signed up to volunteer while he's at class. (No, it has NOTHING to do with the fact that Tar-jay is across the street and I may be tempted to drop $100 every Wednesday as I kill time for an hour).
A few mental notes I took at my first volunteer session last night that made me very happy:
1. The other mommies are really nice.
2. The lead mommy's little people there were running around the gym, 2 hours early for their class. Why? It was daddy's poker night and she had kid duty. Priorities, people.
3. We talked about Bingo nights.
4. One of the boys in D's class got in trouble for talking about "weiners" and using potty talk. SO thankful it wasn't mine. Is that bad?
After class I took D to dinner, just a little special time with my first born. He chose Chik-Fi-La.
We may need to find a venue that sells beer for Mommy. Is that bad?
On the way home he blew my mind with his musical tastes.
He requested Jimi, informed me he knew about the Rolling Stones already because "he knows Keith Richards" and started a discussion around who was better...EC or Jimi or Keith?
WOW, people, WOW.
Eat your Broccoli, Unless you want Mommy to Die Young
No, I did not really say that to any of my little people because I didn't have to. The apple is SO not far from the tree on this one.
GoGo has told me from time to time that she doesn't want me to "get old and die".
Thanks, neither do I, Toots.
She often asks how old I am and then will inquire as to whether or not "that is old, or not".
Or Not, for sure.
Seems she has inherited Mommy's propensity for tracking time and its correlation to the Grim Reaper's visit.
This girl, also like her mother, is not really a fan of green veggies. As in, they never pass her lips.
I remember as a kid being the last one at the table because I wouldn't eat the peas off my Ronald McDonald plate and scooping them in to my napkin finally because, HELLO, the Sunday night Disney movie was on and I just couldn't stand to miss a single second of it. And then of course, the napkin disintegrated with the weight of all those peas and fell apart and I watched helplessly as millions of peas (ok, maybe 23) rolled all over the dining room floor. DAMN.IT.ALL.
So the other night at dinner she has broccoli on her plate as do the rest of us and she refuses to eat it. So I tell her, "Please eat your veggies. It stresses me out when you don't eat healthy foods that will help you grow big and strong. And stress leads to premature aging".
So both she and D ask what the heck that is. So I tell them it is getting old before your time. And GoGo says in this teeny-tiny girl voice..."And getting old means you will die?"
Well if you want to take it that far then Yes, yes it does.
And do you know what? GoGo picked up a piece of the by-now-cold-broccoli and ATE IT. Or maybe nibbled it. But whatever - something green that was not a Smartie not only touched her lips, but made it on through. Hip.Hip.Hooray.
GoGo has told me from time to time that she doesn't want me to "get old and die".
Thanks, neither do I, Toots.
She often asks how old I am and then will inquire as to whether or not "that is old, or not".
Or Not, for sure.
Seems she has inherited Mommy's propensity for tracking time and its correlation to the Grim Reaper's visit.
This girl, also like her mother, is not really a fan of green veggies. As in, they never pass her lips.
I remember as a kid being the last one at the table because I wouldn't eat the peas off my Ronald McDonald plate and scooping them in to my napkin finally because, HELLO, the Sunday night Disney movie was on and I just couldn't stand to miss a single second of it. And then of course, the napkin disintegrated with the weight of all those peas and fell apart and I watched helplessly as millions of peas (ok, maybe 23) rolled all over the dining room floor. DAMN.IT.ALL.
So the other night at dinner she has broccoli on her plate as do the rest of us and she refuses to eat it. So I tell her, "Please eat your veggies. It stresses me out when you don't eat healthy foods that will help you grow big and strong. And stress leads to premature aging".
So both she and D ask what the heck that is. So I tell them it is getting old before your time. And GoGo says in this teeny-tiny girl voice..."And getting old means you will die?"
Well if you want to take it that far then Yes, yes it does.
And do you know what? GoGo picked up a piece of the by-now-cold-broccoli and ATE IT. Or maybe nibbled it. But whatever - something green that was not a Smartie not only touched her lips, but made it on through. Hip.Hip.Hooray.
Cuteness All Around
Sometimes when I see pictures such as these...
I want to push the rewind button as fast as humanly possible.
Or acquire a Freeze-Ray that could stop her right where she is.
Sweet. Innocent. Curious. Determined. Did I mention Sweet?
Everyone tells you when you have a baby to Enjoy it now, it goes so fast.
It's not that I didn't believe - it's just that I had no idea what that really meant. How could I?
How could I know the 2am diaper changes/feedings would turn into bikes without training wheels faster than I could say "I NEED A WIPE!"
How could I know that watching The Wiggles would turn into Wii marathons faster than I could say "Fruit Salad"?
Oh, the cheese factor is high today people.
To go from keeping them safe from the hot stove or fire ants to keeping their hearts safe from bullies and broken friendships is a tough transition.
And it's not like it gets easier with each child. It sucks just as much on the 3rd as it does the 1st.
This growing up business is tough stuff-not a job for wimps.
So I guess Mommy needs to man-up.
She Did It
GoGo learned to ride her bike sans training wheels tonight.
A few weeks ago our neighborhood had a community yardsale and of course I ended up swapping a baby toy for a Barbie bike. Without training wheels.
At one time, GoGo had her own girlie bike but carelessly left it in the driveway one day and Mommy carelessly backed over it. So Daddy carelessly informed her she would learn to ride a bike, using D's old one.
Yeah, right. GoGo doesn't do gray and black anything unless there is a lot of glitter or satin involved.
So, we've had this Barbie bike in our garage for 2 weeks now, with intermittent attempts at riding with Mommy's help. I didn't push too much as I have learned with my children that sometimes it's best to just stay the hell out of their way.
So tonight after dinner, GoGo and D are playing happily on the driveway while I clean up Agent P and the food on the floor that she deemed unsuitable for her consumption.
All of a sudden the door blows open and GoGo informs she is "riding her bike without wheels!"
This sentence may have surprised or even alarmed some but being this child's Mommy, I was lukewarm in my response. But she persisted, "No, I really AM!"
So I go outside and sure enough, there is my GoGo riding circles all by herself on the Barbie bike with no wheels. Training, that is.
She apparently just hopped on and repeated this mantra to herself-"Balance, keep my balance."
Those were her exact words.
I am so proud of this girl. Her brother learned to ride at almost the exact same age and in the almost exact same manner. We were at the beach and he went outside and hopped on another kid's bike and just took off across the parking lot. That is also how each potty trained and learned to write their names. On their own time, at their own pace, in their own style.
One of the many reasons I love them to pieces.
Bliss and Perfection
Perfection. Fall finally joins us.
Bliss. Sweetness swinging.
Perfection. Carolina blue and puffies.
Bliss. Baby feet.
Perfection. Lego guitar for Mom.
The Brain is a Mysterious Organ
It never ceases to amaze me how amazingly different my little people are.
God hard-wired them all just so and completely independent of one another.
For example.
The other day while leaving church, Agent P began to shimmy and shake in my arms upon hearing...the church bells. Having her around is like having a student from "Fame" in your home 24/7. This child moves to anything remotely resembling a beat and I do wonder if indeed her first real sentence won't be..."Give Me A Beat". Oh, Miss Jackson. I am not ready for you in this house.
GoGo fell asleep in the car the other day while returning from the park, as she is prone to do.
Apparently just prior to this, she discovered some very random stickers in her seat pocket.
When we got home and I opened her door, I found a very-much-still-asleep GoGo with a sticker on her left cheek. DANGER. Not a princess or fairy or rainbow. DANGER. Could that be any more appropriate for this child? And D notes it as he exits the car in his very calm manner.
"There's M with a Danger sticker on her cheek." Yep, there she is.
Then D tonight tells me he's having a hard time falling asleep. Apparently there is this box in his brain when he closes his eyes that constantly flips through images and he finds it annoying. What sorts of images, I ask? Just stuff I think about during the day-rakes, grass, birds, dirt. You know, he says. Hmm.
I promise no foreign substances have ever crossed the threshold of his lips but I am beginning to wonder if any that passed MINE an eternity ago, possibly have leaked into his sweet little brain. We switched the subject to Santa, THE list and being good and I could almost see that little box close itself up. Okay, then.
This kid is driven by his imagination and I am just hoping this is his creative genius in hyper-drive.
My three little people look very much alike-no doubting they are all siblings. But their little brains just could not be more opposite of one another and I like it like that, even if I may not fully understand it.
Meanwhile I ponder the wiring of my own poor brain because I can't figure out how to post anymore pics on this blog. So there you go.
God hard-wired them all just so and completely independent of one another.
For example.
The other day while leaving church, Agent P began to shimmy and shake in my arms upon hearing...the church bells. Having her around is like having a student from "Fame" in your home 24/7. This child moves to anything remotely resembling a beat and I do wonder if indeed her first real sentence won't be..."Give Me A Beat". Oh, Miss Jackson. I am not ready for you in this house.
GoGo fell asleep in the car the other day while returning from the park, as she is prone to do.
Apparently just prior to this, she discovered some very random stickers in her seat pocket.
When we got home and I opened her door, I found a very-much-still-asleep GoGo with a sticker on her left cheek. DANGER. Not a princess or fairy or rainbow. DANGER. Could that be any more appropriate for this child? And D notes it as he exits the car in his very calm manner.
"There's M with a Danger sticker on her cheek." Yep, there she is.
Then D tonight tells me he's having a hard time falling asleep. Apparently there is this box in his brain when he closes his eyes that constantly flips through images and he finds it annoying. What sorts of images, I ask? Just stuff I think about during the day-rakes, grass, birds, dirt. You know, he says. Hmm.
I promise no foreign substances have ever crossed the threshold of his lips but I am beginning to wonder if any that passed MINE an eternity ago, possibly have leaked into his sweet little brain. We switched the subject to Santa, THE list and being good and I could almost see that little box close itself up. Okay, then.
This kid is driven by his imagination and I am just hoping this is his creative genius in hyper-drive.
My three little people look very much alike-no doubting they are all siblings. But their little brains just could not be more opposite of one another and I like it like that, even if I may not fully understand it.
Meanwhile I ponder the wiring of my own poor brain because I can't figure out how to post anymore pics on this blog. So there you go.
Sickly=Snuggly
Why do I like my kids better when they're under-the-weather? Kidding. Maybe.
They're more snuggly, actually enjoying being wrapped up like a tamale with Mommy on the couch, listening to Christmas music in September.
They're sweeter, not having the energy to fight with siblings or argue over bedtime.
They're more compliant, with a lot of "yes-ma'aming" as it pertains to homework completion, vegetable consumption and general house rules.
I would not want all 3 sick at the same time, certainly. And God knows I don't want it be more than a virus (and believe that I have stressed over his fever a bit more than is probably natural or necessary).
But I have enjoyed just a teensy-weensy bit my D being a bit sickly the last few days.
It was kind of nice just hanging with him while the girlies were at school.
We snuggled. We watched a lot of TV, including what Mommy wanted (note the extra sweetness here?).
We ate Fritos and Halloween cookies. I read to him. A lot. We snuggled some more. We played Legos while lying down. It was sweet in a pleaseGoddon'tletthisbeanythingmorethanjustyouraveragevirus
dealbutisn'tthiskindofnicetobeabletotreathimlikeababyagainsince
he's gettingsobigandall kind of way.
Meanwhile the ladies soldiered on.
Agent P enjoyed her first Halloween cookie with orange icing and there was a bit more than casual lip smacking after. She literally wrapped her little arm around the table leg and tilted her head back to help it go down faster. At least that's what I think she was doing. Possibly she was having face time with God, thanking him for such things as Halloween cookies with orange icing.
GoGo continues to debate her Halloween costume with me. "I want to be this "debil" girl mommy."
No, GoGo, you will not be a DEVIL girl for Halloween. "But I WANT TO." No, GoGo.
"But I want her SHOES." So it's not the evil character she likes so much as it is her pumps. Right.
I adore them all ALL of the time but sick=sweet in this house.
They're more snuggly, actually enjoying being wrapped up like a tamale with Mommy on the couch, listening to Christmas music in September.
They're sweeter, not having the energy to fight with siblings or argue over bedtime.
They're more compliant, with a lot of "yes-ma'aming" as it pertains to homework completion, vegetable consumption and general house rules.
I would not want all 3 sick at the same time, certainly. And God knows I don't want it be more than a virus (and believe that I have stressed over his fever a bit more than is probably natural or necessary).
But I have enjoyed just a teensy-weensy bit my D being a bit sickly the last few days.
It was kind of nice just hanging with him while the girlies were at school.
We snuggled. We watched a lot of TV, including what Mommy wanted (note the extra sweetness here?).
We ate Fritos and Halloween cookies. I read to him. A lot. We snuggled some more. We played Legos while lying down. It was sweet in a pleaseGoddon'tletthisbeanythingmorethanjustyouraveragevirus
dealbutisn'tthiskindofnicetobeabletotreathimlikeababyagainsince
he's gettingsobigandall kind of way.
Meanwhile the ladies soldiered on.
Agent P enjoyed her first Halloween cookie with orange icing and there was a bit more than casual lip smacking after. She literally wrapped her little arm around the table leg and tilted her head back to help it go down faster. At least that's what I think she was doing. Possibly she was having face time with God, thanking him for such things as Halloween cookies with orange icing.
GoGo continues to debate her Halloween costume with me. "I want to be this "debil" girl mommy."
No, GoGo, you will not be a DEVIL girl for Halloween. "But I WANT TO." No, GoGo.
"But I want her SHOES." So it's not the evil character she likes so much as it is her pumps. Right.
I adore them all ALL of the time but sick=sweet in this house.
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