Those kids — We are THAT Family

I’ve Never Been More Determined Not to Bleed

7:00 am Bykristen

My kids love animals.

No, I don’t think you understand.

They love animals more than your kids do. I’m not just talking about cute baby animals. Or cats and dogs. They have an obsession with half-dead lizzards and rabid raccoons.

They aren’t a respecter of animal life form.

Every time I turn around, they are asking for a new pet. I’m a sensitive Mom, “Go play with your cats. You have a rabbit. Fine, draw a picture of an animal or take this piece of thread for a walk. I am not buying another pet.”

You may recall, we aren’t the best pet owners. So, I have to draw the line.

That’s when they told me they were saving their money to buy their own pet.

And that’s when I patronizingly patted them on the arm and said, “If you save enough money, we’ll see.”

I’m the tooth fairy in this house. And it looks like she’s in a recession. Heh.

Well. It turned out that the little darlings were serious.

Because they pooled their money together (all $8.43 of it) and bought this the last time we were at Lowe’s:

A Venus FlyTrap.

Oh, you haven’t heard the best part!

According to my kids, there are five traps on this one plant. Let me introduce you to JoJo, Lilly, Scooter, Sonja and Rose.

My kids keep referring to themselves as their parents.

And to me as Grandma.

I’m so proud.

They rush in from school and check to see who’s mouth is open. Then they go on a hunt.

“Don’t you want to go outside and catch a bug?” I suggested, not daring to turn my back on Venus and all the little von traps.

“Nope,” my son said with confidence. He walked over to the dining room window and said, “I can find all the bugs I need right here.”

And that’s when I remembered feeling like this.

“Honey, would you please feed JoJo? She’s getting fussy,” my daughter asked her husband. I mean, my grandson. No, I mean, her brother.

“It’s hard work being an adult,” he said.

You have know idea, I thought eyeing my bug-filled window sills.

And it turns out that I’m expected to give a full report to the parents when they get home from school.

I don’t trust the thing. It’s as simple as that.

It keeps giving me the Evil Eye. I’m just waiting for Scooter to say, “feed me.”

That’s when we’ll go back to drawing our pets on paper.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGRN39oifsE]

*Update* I’m sad to report that Rose got the ‘black spot disease’ and died a painful death (which is my kid’s way of saying it withered). We said some nice words over her. But in happy news, Tulip is expecting (which is my kid’s way of saying there are two new sprouts).

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Mrs. Kravitz

12:00 pm Bykristen

My two year old has a thing for the neighbors.

On both sides of us. And the house behind us.

Okay, really the entire street.

She calls each family member by name.

She asks me what they are having for dinner and if they are home from work yet.

She peeks thru the window and asks “What dey doing, Momma? What dey doing now?”

It’s like living with Mrs. Kravitz (except mine has tantrums and insists on everything being pink).

She’s not messing around. Spying on tip toes is for professionals only.

I think the resemblance is uncanny, really.

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Child Labor

1:30 pm Bykristen

Our kids helped us spread 3 yards of mulch this past weekend.

They shoveled:

They raked:

They stylishly wore tiny dirt mustaches and goatees (Is it just me or does she look just like Juan Valdez?)

They passed out from exhaustion and were revived with slobbery kisses:

And they were paid in the kind of money kids dream about: slip n slide cash

(Thanks Aunt Kate for sending my son’s birthday present early!)

When it was time to turn off the slip in slide hose, I told my kids I had a nice hot bath running for them.

My 2 year old pointed to the wet plastic and said, “I take bath, right there.”

She had a point.

I love dirty children.

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

P.S. Today, I’m also talking about being a nag over here .

Y’all have a happy weekend.

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BreathTaking

11:00 am Bykristen

On. Your. Mark.

Get. Set.

Go.

Am I the only one who finds it ironic that my three kiddos can pile into sleeping bags, race down the stairs over and over and declare it the best day ever, without getting hurt?

But these same children cannot walk into the kitchen without slipping on a drop of water and end up in the Emergency Room in a Cat Scan tube with a concussion?

They take my breath away.

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Pink Toes

7:00 pm Bykristen

It was time.

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Smarty Pants

7:00 am Bykristen

I live with smart people.

(And I’m not just talking about being outsmarted or smart mouths).

In order to challenge the third grade class, my daughter’s teacher decided to let her students create their own spelling list if they scored a 100% on the new list at the beginning of each week.

The catch? The student-created spelling lists must contain words that are challenging.

In other words, that leaves out words like: bed, dog, bat

But that’s okay with my daughter. Here’s her list:

And the circled words emanations and picador?

Yes, I did that.

In my lofty, English-degreed mind, I circled the ones that I didn’t think were words.

You know, to help my daughter out.

Turns out they are words:

em·a·na·tion

(

-n

1. The act or an instance of emanating.

a. Something that issues from a source; an emission.

b. Chemistry Any of several radioactive gases that are isotopes of radon and are products of radioactive decay.

pic·a·dor (pk-dôr, pkä-dôr)

n. pl. pic·a·dors or pic·a·do·res

A horseman in a bullfight who lances the bull’s neck muscles so that it will tend to keep its head low for the later stages of the fight.

And that I’m way out of my league.

I think I’ll just color with my 2 year old.

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I’d Give Him 4 Days to Survive in the Desert

7:00 am Bykristen

In celebration of Spring Break this week, I asked my hubby to fetch my son’s lunchbox from his backpack in the laundry room, so I could wash it out.

He was gone for a while and I heard him call in a disturbed voice, “Can you come here for a minute?”

I walked into the laundry room to see this on the floor:

I give you the contents of my child’s backpack:

2 keychains (without keys)

4 broken pencils

3 Mardi Gras necklaces (claimed by the toddler)

4 wrinkled bookmarks

1 paper nickel

1 snowman picture frame sans a picture (possibly my Christmas present?)

5 smashed granola bars

1 Mardi Gras baby (claimed for luck by the older sister)

2 dusty, dirty zip lock bags full of rocks (pretty disturbed by this one)

1 Squirmie Wormie

1 Thanksgiving macaroni necklace

2 pixie sticks (still containing pixie)

1 Valentine’s card

2 pieces of a candy cane (which I had to talk my son out of eating)

1 paper hat

1 zip lock bag full of crushed graham cracker crumbs

1 Mattel Classic Football game from the 1980′s

1 Disney Cars notepad

And one very ashamed mother who will not send granola bars as a snack choice any longer.

What’s in your child’s backpack (closet, under the bed, secret stash)?

I dare you to go look.

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The Coming of Age

7:00 am Bykristen

I’m learning as I go.

I’ve never walked this parenting road before.

Just ask my oldest.

She’s nine.

I don’t know what ten will look like. I don’t know what eleven will feel like. I can’t even think about twelve.

I know that my beautiful girl is changing every day. She retreats to the solitude of her room more often. She seeks out new responsibilities more readily. She reaches for my hand less, but needs me more.

She is becoming.

On her birthday in January this year, her father gave her a box.

It’s similar to the one he gave me. Remember this?

The box contained a simple, loving letter from a father to his oldest daughter.

Those treasured words are for her eyes only.

But I can tell you that we blinked and the baby we longed for is now a young girl. Nine years from now she will be waving from a platform in her cap and gown.

Although I can’t fathom that moment, I know it will come.

And since I can’t stop The Coming of Age, I won’t try.

I will capture it.

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Should I Find this Disturbing?

7:01 am Bykristen

The other day at Grandma’s house, my 2 year old climbed into the fire pit.

It was really cute.

Until, I noticed my other children gathering wood.

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Because a Potty Post Seems Appropriate

7:00 am Bykristen

The queen is on the throne, y’all.

And you’ll never believe how it happened.

I went away on a weekend trip, and my hubby potty trained our 2 year old while I was gone.

I KNOW!!!

I tried to talk him into starting a blog called “How I potty-trained my 2 year old while her Mom was at #Blissdom09,” but he was hesitant.

Instead, I convinced him to share his tips here (because seriously, she’s had very few accidents, is not using pull ups and really gets it!) He wanted me to convey that when I left town, our toddler had a strong interest and a new package of Dora panties. So, he can’t take full credit.

Whatever.

Before I outline his best-selling potty training tips, I have to tell you something funny.

In the middle of one of the sessions, my phone vibrated. I knew it was important because it wasn’t the normal text message my hubby had been sending. I snuck away and had this conversation:

“Hey, she’s going to the bathroom really well, but I must be doing something terribly wrong!”

“What happened???”

“Well, sometimes the pee shoots in 7 1/2 different streams! Why? What am I doing wrong? It’s like a fountain and I just got hit in the face!”

It was really hard to return to my session. Because I wanted to continue rolling on the floor laughing.

What a guy. Huh?

So. Without further ado, the tips (according to him, but written by me):

1. Let your child be in the bathroom with you to watch, flush, participate.

Me: Yeah, so we have no privacy. Works well for potty-training. But I draw the line at letting someone else wipe me. Because our girl is very helpful!

2. Watch for signs. Your child will let you know when they are ready. When they are interested, take the opportunity. Don’t miss this window.

Me: I mentioned to my hubby before my trip that she was interested. But it was a really inconvenient time to start potty training. I probably would have told her just to keep using the diaper. I’m so glad he didn’t.

3. Let your child participate. Give them choices of underwear and be flexible. Our daughter didn’t use the cute potty chair my wife bought once. If I’d forced the issue, she wouldn’t have trained.

Me: Anyone need a cute, barely used potty chair throne? It’s perfect for efficiency.

4. My older kids really helped. Our toddler really trained herself. It was easy because she wanted to learn, she had an audience, a lot of encouragement, new underwear, and we stayed at home a lot.

Me: Rent a big kid.

5. I rewarded her every time she used the bathroom with a small piece of candy (an M&M; or Skiddle).

Me: She’s peeing rainbows. But she’s peeing!!

[So, to summarize: I did not go on a lovely weekend all by myself and leave my hubby to potty training our toddler. Because I would never do that!]

Overall, potty training has been really easy. Hate us.

The only problem I see, is she wants to stay naked ALL THE TIME.

So we’re moving to a nudist colony.

And, she pulls down her panties and shows random people at Wal Mart her business.

But other than those two minor issues, we’re good.

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And the Chair Wins

7:00 am Bykristen

The other day, my toddler whined and cried for a lollipop she saw sticking out of the corner of my purse. {Not that I bribe with sweet treats. No, not me!}

I kicked myself for not hiding the emergency candy deeper into my all-purpose tote.

I relented and gave her the treat, on one condition: She had to eat it in her little red chair (that was in the corner of the kitchen).

As soon as the words were out of my mouth and the sucker in her mouth, she happily sat down.

I answered the phone. Paid a bill. And heard the scraping of the chair.

She was in the living room, pushing the chair.

As soon as I said her name, she hopped into the tiny seat and said with sticky hands, “I in chair, Momma.”

I turned back to my work at hand and heard the dragging of the chair throughout the house.

Every time I looked at her, she quickly sat down.

That is one smart chair.

Oh, and I wanted to add that my child would never dispose of said lollipop on the arm of my sofa.

Never! Not my kid.

Also:

I wanted you to know about this publication I’m a part of called Serious.Life Magazine. They just published the February issue today, and I am in their Featured Blog Directory. It’s a very high quality magazine… you’ll really like it.

The magazine includes a lot of great content from bloggers you’ll appreciate, as well as great features, photos and other content.

Again, the subscription is free, and I know you’ll enjoy the magazine, so take a minute to check it out and sign up to get future issues. www.seriouslifemagazine.com

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This Is As Close to Hugging a Tree As I Will Get

7:00 am Bykristen

At the risk of sounding flaky, I’m going to tell y’all something:

I’m pretty sure I’ve made a tree happy somewhere.

My toddler has skin issues. She has eczema and this time of year is so hard on her. The prescription she uses doesn’t help much during a bad flare up. Last week was really tough and her Mother’s Day Out teacher actually called me, voicing her concern.

Feeling sorry for my girl (and fearing my Tuesdays might be in jeopardy), I knew I had to do something.

And so I Googled.

I read and read and kept seeing the words, “tea tree oil.” I called GNC and bought my first bottle of essential oil.

Y’all. It’s like a miracle potion. Her skin has improved by 90%.

As many of you know, we also had another little problem at the same time. More than 100 of you confessed to your own experiences or lent some handy advice or unsubscribed to me. Whatever. But all of you convinced me that I wasn’t dirty. (thankyou)

I was amazed to read so many suggest a few drops of “tea tree oil” in the shampoo bottle.

Again, it did the trick.

My kids smell like a giant melaleuca tree, but their skin and hair is healthy. And I feel sorta bad for all my essential-oil mockery over the years, especially since at one point I kissed the bottle and praised God for it.

So, my tip? This stuff works. Here’s where you can buy it and here’ s what it helps cure.

Now, tell me, what other oils are out there and what do you use them for?

Not that I want to know or anything, I’m just asking for a friend.

Ahem.

Check out Works for Me Wednesday for more great tips.

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Just Send Me Your Therapy Bills

7:00 pm Bykristen

I think I’ve failed my children. {Not Me!}

You be the judge:

At breakfast this past weekend, something had obviously been bothering my son because in-between bites of scrambled eggs he said, “Mom, why didn’t you tell me I was a mammal? I didn’t find out until I was in Kindergarten.”

And considering he is now halfway through the first grade, I’d say he’s been holding this in.

For awhile.

If you were on Twitter, you probably followed this conversation. But I failed to mention my third grade daughter’s mammal input. She’s an expert.

“Well. It doesn’t even matter because You are not a mammal. You don’t feed your young milk from your body, do you?” she asked. “Plus, the dolphin is the smartest mammal.”

Well.

Strangely, that got me off the hook.

And no, I didn’t even correct her.

And it’s certainly NOT because I don’t know my mammal facts.

I do. Really. I think.

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

The night before, my kids were playing with action figures and I heard some smashing and crashing.

And then I heard this: “Oh, no, he fell. He is really hurt. He is really suffering!”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to put the guy out of his misery since he’s hurt so bad.”

And then I heard all sorts of frightening sounds.

Um. No, my kids did not just euthanize a parachuting action figure.

I’ll just add that talk to my to do list.

But just in case there are permanent effects to this recent behavior, I’ll have them send their therapy bills to me.

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

And if all that isn’t enough:

The hubby and I took the kids to see Paul Blart: Mall Cop at the theatre. It was funny and fairly family-friendly. Well, as much as gun-toting mall thugs can be.

The highlight? My son proclaiming it “THE BEST MOVE EVER” and deciding to pursue mall-copping in college.

Pride. It’s all I feel, people.

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This Girl has a Cool Mom

11:00 am Bykristen

I took my daughter for a haircut. Her now 9-year-old tresses needed a trim.

She left like this:

I wish I could share the audio of my hubby when he saw her.

And a picture of the look he gave me. Ouch.

He was so relieved when we let him in on our secret.

I’ll tell you too {it’s just a fancy pink-colored hair clip that looks very real}.

Heart attack avoided.

And cool Mom inserted.

Y’all have a happy weekend, okay?

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The People Behind the Blog

7:00 am Bykristen

I’d like to share my lofty blog goals with you for the New Year.

But I can’t.

It’s not that I don’t have any, I’m not in charge.

It’s up to The People Behind the Blog (a.k.a. 8 yo daughter, 6.5 yo son, 2 yo daughter).

If it were up to me, I’d probably blog about home decor (!) and Target clearance aisles (!) everyday, but then I’d have to leave out all the emergency room visits and trips to WalMart.

So, I arranged an exclusive interview with the executive committee and asked them about their plans.

Tell me about yourself:

8 yo: I’m silly, athletic and smart

6 yo: I love video games and Christmas

2 yo: Yah (interpreted to be ‘yes)

What are your goals for the New Year:

8 yo: Become an expert at long division and make the Spring Fun Run Team (mumbled ‘like that will be hard. I’m really good’)

6 yo: Master my Pogo Stick. My record is 7 hops without hurting myself.

2 yo: Yah

Could you estimate Emergency Room visits for the year for insurance purposes?

8 yo: I’d say about 15 times

6 yo: Each or For all of us?

2 yo: Yah

What do you think will happen in 2009 that will be exciting?

8 yo: I will turn 9 years old in 6 days and that’s pretty much all I can think about. Because 9, is you know, N-I-N-E.

6 yo: Turning 7 (whispers ‘in how many days, Mom?”) in 131 days.

2 yo: Yah

Do you think you should get a raise in your allowance this year?

8 yo: Definitely. Like $50 bucks. Mom, why are you laughing? Huh?

6 yo: If she gets one, I want one.

2 yo: Yah

How do you feel about the economy?

8 yo: Prices are changing. We will probably get less toys and bubble gum. I’m not getting a raise in my allowance, am I?

6 yo: What’s the economy?

2 yo: Yah

How would you describe being a member of THAT family?

8 yo: Embarrassing

6 yo: Proud and Happy

2 yo: Yah

And finally, do you have any predictions for 2009?

8 yo: A lot of Emergency Room visits and school projects

6 yo: A lot of fun

2 yo: (And in a burst of vocabulary) No.

There you have it, people.

It looks to be a promising year of fun and embarrassment.

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Big Enough is Still Little

12:01 am Bykristen

You are old enough to say my name.

You are big enough to climb in my lap.

You are strong enough to pull my heart strings.

You are wild enough to attract attention from strangers.

You are sweet enough that I don’t care about the attention.

You are my baby.

You are two years old today.

But you are still not allowed to wear my mascara.

Happy Birthday, baby.

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Just Like Mom

7:00 am Bykristen

What do you call a fireman hat, a honey-bun and a potty chair mixed together?

Efficient.

Just like Mom.

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Size Does Matter

7:00 pm Bykristen

Dear Santa (part II),

Please bring my girl a scooter for Christmas…..

Because she keeps riding my favorite ornament!

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It Just Might Come to This

7:00 am Bykristen

Dear Santa,

I think we might need to put this at the top of the list this year:

If it doesn’t work for my toddler, maybe it will work for me? One of us needs relief.

P.S. My hips won’t fit, does it come in extra large butt?

Signed,

Desperate Mother

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Foiled Again!

7:01 am Bykristen

Her evil plan to redecorate my house has been thwarted!

{Insert evil mommy laugh here}

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The Tuesday Folder

7:00 am Bykristen

I’ve learned to both love and dread The Tuesday Folder.

It contains a slew of information pertaining to the activities in my kid’s classrooms. It’s sent home every week.

On Tuesday. (These teachers don’t kid around. I think a romantic name like, “folder of endless work and vital information” is a catchy title. But no one asked me).

It also contains completed assignments from the past week tucked into the KEEP side of the folder.

And my son? Yeah, he takes the KEEP part very seriously.

As I sorted and read the endless pile of papers in my daughter’s folder the other day, I came across this page:

Her first cursive writing assignment.

She is excited about learning cursive writing and I knew she’d be proud to show it off. But I was concerned about some of the letters that were circled. They looked fine to me…Maybe her teacher was taking the cursive thing a little too seriously.

Me: “This looks great! But why are some of them circled?” (I’m mentally thinking parent teacher conference. Yes, I’m one of THOSE parents).

Her: “Oh, I just circled my favorite ones!” And she sauntered off.

Call me hormonal, but I wanted to weep and laugh all at once. It was so cute. She circled her favorites! I remember doing that. The pride I had for my cursive i’s was unhealthy.

I moved onto my son’s Tuesday Folder. Once I looked at everything, I took out the important things and threw the rest away.

Including this:

Of course my son discovered his papers at the top of the trash about 37 seconds later, including a map to his room.

Him: “Mom! These are KEEP papers. You can’t throw them away. “

Me: “Honey, I looked at them and saved some, but I can’t KEEP everything.”

Him: “Well. You should KEEP this map to my bedroom for when my teacher comes over.”

Me: ‘Huh? What? Gasp! You’re teacher is coming here?”

Him: “Yep, when I earn enough tickets. She’ll need to find her way to my room!”

Well. Apparently, I missed that note in The Tuesday Folder.

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And They Say Money Can’t Buy Happiness

7:00 am Bykristen

My son bought this enormous baseball trophy at a garage sale for $1.00.

It is proudly displayed on his messy dresser.

When I asked him, “Why? Why do you want to buy this with your allowance?”

He said, “Mom, it’s so much easier than trying to earn one.”

That’s my frugal, corner-cutting boy. It makes a Mom proud, ya know?

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The Nest

7:00 am Bykristen

We are having some serious hair care needs.

My toddler has fine baby hair that is slightly curly. I wash it regularly and comb it daily. Promise. But this is what happens:

Within minutes, it gets snarled, fuzzy and tangled. I have to comb thru knots.

I affectionately refer to it as the nest. Because if a bird got a good look at it, well, let’s just say, my daughter would be sportin’ some twigs and leaves in her hair. I’m just sayin’.

So, dear internets, can you help a vain Mom out? Should I cut it? Buy a hat collection? I’m open to all suggestions…

And to help other problematic people out, visit the Backwards Edition of Works For Me Wednesday.

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I Call Him Slugger

7:00 am Bykristen

My son is playing baseball. For the first time.

He’s got muddy cleats.

A sweat-stained baseball hat.

He’s learned to spit. And adjust.

He surprised us with a love for the game and a small competitive streak.

Huge strides considering he used to be a cross dresser.

He’s done pretty good too.

Until last week’s game. He struck out three times. In a row.

On the third strikeout he took off his batting helmet, threw it to the ground and stomped away.

Not exactly honoring the YMCA sportsmanship pledge on the back of his jersey.

My daughter had a volleyball game going on at the same time, so I missed the spectacle.

But my hubby did not. He coached him thru his bad attitude and encouraged him out of quitting. They worked on batting during the week a time or two. And his big sister even encouraged him with stories of her sports failures. Although she had few, she made sure she mentioned seven times.

I reminded him that everyone has off days and it was just part of the game.

My hubby and I switched places for the next game and he went with my daughter to volleyball and I followed my son to the baseball field.

He was called first to bat.

I wrung my hands nervously.

Since this is YMCA ball, they give the little guys about six pitches.

The first five, he swung and missed.

Now, to everyone else this was not a big deal, but I knew it was huge to my little boy.

And I’m telling ya’ll, I prayed and begged so hard, it was just plain wrong. I mean, The God of the Universe was surely busy on that humid Saturday morning. But I was desperate and so was my son’s self esteem.

I had my first hot flash on the sidelines. I rocked back and forth in my seat, willing him to hit the ball.

On the sixth pitch he made contact.

I stood up and screamed like one of THOSE moms. I made a complete fool of myself. I almost did a cartwheel.

Be glad I didn’t, mkay?

And there were tears, ya’ll, real tears. I just couldn’t help myself. The look of relief on my son’s face was huge.

He didn’t make any major plays and was caught once picking flowers in the outfield. But he felt like a winner because he persevered. At one point, he held up the game and in front of all the parents said confidently, “Hey Mom, could you squirt water down my back? I’m working hard here.”

Ahhh, my boy was back and he was real slugger.

And call me crazy, but I think God was in the stands.

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A Sticky Situation

7:01 am Bykristen

I found my toddler under the bathroom sink this morning.

She was digging thru her big sister’s nail polish and fingernail decals.

This is how I found her:

Apparently, she’s planning on converting soon.

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And It’s Not Even Lunchtime Yet

11:00 am Bykristen

I’m glad I started my bloggy day reflecting on the Almighty.

Because if I hadn’t, I’m fairly certain I would have been tempted to usher a few of my kids into His presence for some mandatory personal time after my trip to Wal Mart today. Because the lovely scene we created on aisle 14B is one for the history books.

And I’d like to apologize to the lady in the middle stall of the ladies bathroom.

My toddler didn’t see anything when she crawled under.

Promise.

That is all.

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The Ladies Man

7:01 am Bykristen

My son is six years old.

He is delicious. And one of my most favorite males of all time!

He is also a ladies man.

I’m not even kidding.

He loves women. Girls. The female persuasion.

It’s not uncommon for him to walk by and pat my fanny or plant a big wet kiss on my lips. Multiple times in a day.

He’s tender and sweet with his baby sister and works his hardest to please his big sister. And even when he argues with her, he’s the first to apologize. He’s not a fighter.

He’s a lover.

There’s a little pixie girl from his Kindergarten class that stole his heart during the school year.

He’s been asking me all summer to arrange a play date. ”Mom, I just miss her. My heart hurts because I haven’t seen her.”

Oh, and he’s a wee bit dramatic.

And so I arranged it. But the day before the play date, my Mom and I took the kids to the local swimming pool, only to run into my son’s little friend.

Imagine: My son shading his eyes from the bright sun and squinting in the distance. He sees his friend and without a second thought-he splashes through the water, calling her name like a forlorn lover. He picked her up.

And spun her around.

It was like a scene from Casablanca. Only it was two six year olds and I think they love each other more.

My Mom looked at me and said, “I think he will marry early.”

Sure, Mom, thanks that’s exactly what I needed to hear.

Thankfully, he still wants to marry me.

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The Games Children Play

7:01 am Bykristen

The other day as I was cooking (a.k.a. heating and stirring), my older kids sat at the kitchen table playing a word game.

I wasn’t paying close attention, but I knew my daughter was asking my son some questions and giving him multiple choice answers. And as long as he followed her directions exactly, there was peace.

I don’t know where she gets that from.

“Nope! You are wrong!” my daughter declared triumphantly. Encouragement may not be her gift.

“Stay here,” she commands and comes over to the stove where I am laboring over macaroni and says, “Mom, we’re playing idioms. Can you give me another one, so I can see if he can guess the meaning?”

Well.

I must confess even though I have a degree in English, I couldn’t recall the definition of the word idiom, much less an example. Probably because I was using so much energy and brain cells on cooking.

I told my daughter as much and she looked disgusted. It must be hard to be gifted and talented and live with such trolls.

She returned to her seat and looked into the face of little brother. ”Do you even know what an idiom is?”

He paused. I leaned in, hoping to hear the answer. He scratched his head and pushed up his glasses. I could tell he wanted to please his big sister.

“Am I an idiom?” he asked earnestly.

I laughed and said, ”No, honey, but great minds think alike.”

My daughter stood and declared, “That’s an idiom.”

And so it is.

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