"Good morning, Lindsay!"
She replied through her thumb, nestled in between the stretched stitches of Hatty and The New Color Wonder, "Mornin', Mom."
"How did you sleep?"
"Like a pig."
Stifling a laugh, I asked, "A pig?"
She snored loudly, snorted, and then replied with a laugh, "Yeah, like a pig."
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
What I'm good at
"Don't you have a very big stroller?" Lindsay asked.
"No, grown-ups don't get to ride in strollers, but it's okay because I am a very good walker."
"No. You are a very good pusher."
I laughed, "I am a good pusher?"
"Yeah, you push my stroller good."
"No, grown-ups don't get to ride in strollers, but it's okay because I am a very good walker."
"No. You are a very good pusher."
I laughed, "I am a good pusher?"
"Yeah, you push my stroller good."
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Epiphany's Earth Day
I'm in a bit of a mood right now. Linds just threw up her breakfast, which was oatmeal and orange juice which I have to say has to have the foulest smell and most disgusting texture of anything that could come out of a person. And? This was INSIDE the couch. Who sits inside a couch? Lindsay. Also? If you have Method products while they may kill ants, they absolutely don't touch something that stinks. I sprinkled some lavendar essential oil but really it is just adding to the awful smell.
Oh, and? Small child who dropped my hairbrush in the potty (the only reason I can fathom why the hairbrush and now MY HAIR smell like pee), Mama says, "grr".
Yesterday, I had to take the Mazda to the dealer to have one of my airbags replaced. It was not functioning properly, but did not deploy. It meant I had to leave my car most of the day, but since it was a warrantee repair, I was rented a free car from Enterprise. The well-dressed young man (they really have a very snazzy staff there) picked me up, helped me move my two car seats, and entertained Lindsay while I installed them. He was entirely smitten with Lindsay, who in typical Lindsay fashion refused to speak with him and would only shake her head. It went something like this:
"It's nice to meet you, Lindsay. You can call me "E". "
Lindsay shook her head.
"Can you shake my hand?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Are you excited to ride in my silver car with your Mommy?"
Lindsay shook her head.
When we got to the office, things remained terse.
"Do you want to get the white car," he pointed, "Or that big black one?"
Lindsay shook her head.
I completed the paperwork to rent the white Corolla. E vacuumed it and moved the carseats into it for me. As I installed Lindsay's seat, he said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lindsay - I hope I see you later. Will you wave goodbye?"
Lindsay shook her head.
Things didn't improve when I returned with both girls later.
"Hey, Lindsay. Welcome back! Can I get a wave?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Is that your sister?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Would you like a little rubber car? I have one for your sister..."
Lindsay shook her head.
"Alright, well. Maybe another time."
Her face crumpled and lower lip began to quiver. Suddenly, she was shrieking, and of course, poor E felt terrible. He tried to hand her the car, but she only would agree for him to give me the car and she took it from me, still sniffling. Despite this, E drove me back to the dealership and offered to keep the kids in the car with him while I ran into to sign the paperwork and pick up my keys. When I returned, Lindsay threw her car at E, and Lauren was kicking the back of his chair. I found out later that they were playing keep away with the rubber cars, this was after Lauren erupted into tears that he took her car away, and when I put Lindsay into her seat in my car, she asked, "Is E coming with us?"
Poor E.
Oh, and? Small child who dropped my hairbrush in the potty (the only reason I can fathom why the hairbrush and now MY HAIR smell like pee), Mama says, "grr".
Yesterday, I had to take the Mazda to the dealer to have one of my airbags replaced. It was not functioning properly, but did not deploy. It meant I had to leave my car most of the day, but since it was a warrantee repair, I was rented a free car from Enterprise. The well-dressed young man (they really have a very snazzy staff there) picked me up, helped me move my two car seats, and entertained Lindsay while I installed them. He was entirely smitten with Lindsay, who in typical Lindsay fashion refused to speak with him and would only shake her head. It went something like this:
"It's nice to meet you, Lindsay. You can call me "E". "
Lindsay shook her head.
"Can you shake my hand?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Are you excited to ride in my silver car with your Mommy?"
Lindsay shook her head.
When we got to the office, things remained terse.
"Do you want to get the white car," he pointed, "Or that big black one?"
Lindsay shook her head.
I completed the paperwork to rent the white Corolla. E vacuumed it and moved the carseats into it for me. As I installed Lindsay's seat, he said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lindsay - I hope I see you later. Will you wave goodbye?"
Lindsay shook her head.
Things didn't improve when I returned with both girls later.
"Hey, Lindsay. Welcome back! Can I get a wave?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Is that your sister?"
Lindsay shook her head.
"Would you like a little rubber car? I have one for your sister..."
Lindsay shook her head.
"Alright, well. Maybe another time."
Her face crumpled and lower lip began to quiver. Suddenly, she was shrieking, and of course, poor E felt terrible. He tried to hand her the car, but she only would agree for him to give me the car and she took it from me, still sniffling. Despite this, E drove me back to the dealership and offered to keep the kids in the car with him while I ran into to sign the paperwork and pick up my keys. When I returned, Lindsay threw her car at E, and Lauren was kicking the back of his chair. I found out later that they were playing keep away with the rubber cars, this was after Lauren erupted into tears that he took her car away, and when I put Lindsay into her seat in my car, she asked, "Is E coming with us?"
Poor E.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
A very long week
Alec was out of town last week, and that always makes for a long week.
My dishwasher was broken. Which isn't a big deal unless you bake 3 loaves of bread and a batch of bagels, and then it's a huge pain in the ass. But y'know that hubs came home, took it apart and fixed, I can just push that button and my dishes come out clean and hot.
I have a paper due next week, which, unfortunately will mean another week of only 144 character updates from me. I'm not terribly stressed about the paper. I keep having little bursts of inspiration - yesterday during class, I managed to outline it a bit, and I wrote another piece of it during the sermon at church today. Once I have time to sit down and weave these bits together, it should be fine.
Lindsay started Mommy & Me at a new preschool. Lindsay never wants to do what anyone else is doing, so it is instead of this nice bonding time where we sing songs, me singing songs and chasing Linds around trying to get her to sit still for two freaking minutes while every other kid in the room is doing exactly what they are supposed to with their mommies holding little babies in their laps. There was a 10 minute "I don't want to have a snack tantrum". I'm hoping this preschool will work for her for the fall, but so far it is just making me want to pull out my hair.
I was approached today to speak about the things I'm doing with our food, and I am feeling sort of anxious about the idea. I feel like the things I'm doing now are good and work for me and my family, but the thought of it framed like "this is how to do it" seems jarringly wrong to me. I have to think about it some more.
My dishwasher was broken. Which isn't a big deal unless you bake 3 loaves of bread and a batch of bagels, and then it's a huge pain in the ass. But y'know that hubs came home, took it apart and fixed, I can just push that button and my dishes come out clean and hot.
I have a paper due next week, which, unfortunately will mean another week of only 144 character updates from me. I'm not terribly stressed about the paper. I keep having little bursts of inspiration - yesterday during class, I managed to outline it a bit, and I wrote another piece of it during the sermon at church today. Once I have time to sit down and weave these bits together, it should be fine.
Lindsay started Mommy & Me at a new preschool. Lindsay never wants to do what anyone else is doing, so it is instead of this nice bonding time where we sing songs, me singing songs and chasing Linds around trying to get her to sit still for two freaking minutes while every other kid in the room is doing exactly what they are supposed to with their mommies holding little babies in their laps. There was a 10 minute "I don't want to have a snack tantrum". I'm hoping this preschool will work for her for the fall, but so far it is just making me want to pull out my hair.
I was approached today to speak about the things I'm doing with our food, and I am feeling sort of anxious about the idea. I feel like the things I'm doing now are good and work for me and my family, but the thought of it framed like "this is how to do it" seems jarringly wrong to me. I have to think about it some more.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Preacher, Mountain Lion
"Rosa Parks was a mountain lion." Lauren announced during supper.
"Oh? How was Rosa Parks a mountain lion?"
"Mountain lions 'fight the fight for what is right'," she chanted.
"So, you don't agree with the book that Rosa wouldn't get up because she was
tired?" [One of the statements her reading book made was that some people
think Rosa didn't get out of her seat because she was too tired.]
"She was tired! She was tired of racism. She couldn't stand it anymore, so she
wouldn't stand up."
I replied, "That makes a lot of sense."
"Martin Luther King was a mountain lion," she continued. "He 'fights the fight
for what is right'. And he was a preacher."
"Yep."
"He had a dream about black people having the same things as white people..."
"Yep." I said. "Martin Luther King thought everyone should have the same rights."
"Well. Everyone SHOULD have the same rights." She rolled her eyes.
"Yep."
"Pastor Seth is a mountain lion."
"Oh?"
"He fights the fight for people who weren't born here because he thinks that
everyone should have the same rights. He 'fights the fight for what is right'."
"Mmm hmm."
"Except on Sunday."
"Hmm?"
"On Sunday, he is preaching."
"Oh? How was Rosa Parks a mountain lion?"
"Mountain lions 'fight the fight for what is right'," she chanted.
"So, you don't agree with the book that Rosa wouldn't get up because she was
tired?" [One of the statements her reading book made was that some people
think Rosa didn't get out of her seat because she was too tired.]
"She was tired! She was tired of racism. She couldn't stand it anymore, so she
wouldn't stand up."
I replied, "That makes a lot of sense."
"Martin Luther King was a mountain lion," she continued. "He 'fights the fight
for what is right'. And he was a preacher."
"Yep."
"He had a dream about black people having the same things as white people..."
"Yep." I said. "Martin Luther King thought everyone should have the same rights."
"Well. Everyone SHOULD have the same rights." She rolled her eyes.
"Yep."
"Pastor Seth is a mountain lion."
"Oh?"
"He fights the fight for people who weren't born here because he thinks that
everyone should have the same rights. He 'fights the fight for what is right'."
"Mmm hmm."
"Except on Sunday."
"Hmm?"
"On Sunday, he is preaching."
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