Friday, December 31, 2010

Sprout Wish

Sprout Wish: noun. A wish a child makes to be older and/or reach a particular milestone that his peers and/or siblings have reached.

Yesterday, Philosopher Child lost his first tooth. (I'll wait while you applaud like you've never applauded before. Done? OK.) He took it out himself, no muss, no fuss, just out. So, in accordance to ancient tradition passed down from whoever thought this nonsense up, the Tooth Fairy, while tripping over toys and being generally grouchy but hoping not to wake up the child, removed the tooth and replaced it with a dollar, making sure to hide the tooth in the back of the child's mother's wardrobe, where the child would not find it.

This resulted in the child dancing around all morning with said dollar.

Of course, this whole situation is fascinating to Viking Toddler. He asked me this morning if I could take one of his teeth out.

"No," I replied. "You have to wait until you are a little older. They'll get wobbly, and then they'll come out."

Viking Toddler then shook his head around, "wobbling" it, in an effort to make his teeth wobbly.

Clearly, I've gotten through to him. *Eye roll*

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Sleep Myth

Sleep Myth: noun. The myth that after a certain age, kids (and adults, for that matter) almost always sleep through the night.

Uh, can we say false? Maybe it's just me, but sleeping through the night seems to be a luxury these days. Between sleep walkers/talkers, illnesses, general wakings, storms, weather changes, headaches... Pfft. What I want is a good night's sleep.

But of course, it's not all bad. The kids' sleep talking is actually pretty funny, even if it does wake me up. For instance, a few days ago we went to a birthday party, at which there was an indoor playground. Viking Toddler wanted to run and play in it like the other children, but in order to get up into it, you had to go up a serious of platforms that were as high as his chest. A few of Philosopher Child's classmates with some seriously heightened maternal senses helped Viking Toddler get up the platforms over and over, and seemed extremely happy to do so. Really cute.

Later that night, I heard Viking Toddler moving around and talking. I found him sitting up in his bed, saying, "I need to get up there. I need help to get up there." He was of course dreaming about the little girls helping him up to the platforms.

I said, "OK, I'll help you." I laid him down on his pillow. "Are you up there now?"


"OK. Go back to sleep."

Well, maybe having to get up at night every now and then and catch such adorableness isn't so bad.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

A Christmas without snow

OK, no snow on Christmas is not exactly surprising. We live in the south, and it has only snowed here a couple of times in the past few decades, and generally no more than flurries. Although, there was a very cold stretch last year and it sleeted one night. But, as is my standard, I digress.

The other day, Viking Toddler, who is three, asked if there will be snow on Christmas. I told him no. He then became concerned, as he had convinced himself that Santa can only fly if there is snow. That took a few minutes to correct. Although, thanks to the magic of webcams, Grandpa was kind enough to walk outside in the cold and show the boys the 8 inches of snow that had fallen where he was.

Philosopher Child asked me last night (Christmas Eve) how Santa will get in since our house doesn't have a chimney.

"You know, I remember asking my mom the same thing when I was young," I said. "She said he uses the front door."

"But it's locked. How does he get in?"

At this point I pulled out an old trick my mom used when she didn't know what to day or didn't feel like answering. "Magic."

"But he's supposed to go down the chimney!" Philosopher Child said.

I don't remember what I said here, but I think it was something like, "And he's magic. Do you think normal people go down chimneys?"

I hope everyone has a splendid and fantastic New Year. If you're into resolutions, make them, and don't forget to share them.

As an interesting little side note, Husband was kind enough to get me a laptop for Christmas. Not a new one, but there's a reason: this particular model is hard to break and is perfect for me. Love it.

But I've already digressed. I was silly enough to leave my laptop open on the table, with the edit page up. I had to walk away for a while, and when I came back, I was doing a quick read through of what was on the page. Hidden in the text were the words "I am a vandal." Husband apparently thinks he's funny. He mostly is. Good thing I proofread.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Merry Chirstmas to all, and to all... put a smile on, for goodness sake!

I haven't come up with a word for what I'm proposing yet, however I suppose it could go under the Holinsanity category.

Yesterday (that would be the day before Christmas Eve), Husband, the boys, and I all went out to the grocery store and Target for a couple of last minute items (uh, yeah, like all the stuff for Christmas dinner that we hadn't bought yet).

Anyway, the grocery store was packed. Not only was it full of people, it was full of angry people. I'm sure I would have found the same at Target if I had ventured out of the first aid/cleaning supplies section.

Why, for the love of all things, are people so darn angry at Christmas? It could be the extra money that people "need" to spend, but I don't think that's it. The crowds? I think that's more likely. Husband himself has said many times that he hates Christmas for that very reason.

But back to my story, which is more disjointed and rambling than usual. I was helping Husband gather the last minute things at the grocery store, and it's amazing how many people had scowls on their faces and acted like you are in their way. Like somehow, you, personally, have completely ruined their Christmas by the mere act of being in the same building as them. So while some of the people were happy to say, "Excuse me," and "I bet your pardon," and smile, most looked like they were about to hit you in the face with a baseball bat.

Crowds aren't fun. I get that. But consider this: everyone is just trying to do the same thing as everyone else. Everyone just wants to get in, get what they need, and go home. Anger over an uncontrollable situation just makes it worse.

So here's my proposal: This year, I will try to remain nice and cheery, even in the face of crowds. I will remember that we are all trying to do the same thing. I will smile, even when others look like they are about to pull out their bats.

As Proverbs 15:1 says, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Not to mention all the versus on encouraging each other.

Will you join me?

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Balloon Man/Woman part II

Part I
Balloon Man/Woman
: noun. A person that tries, at times repeatedly, to give your child something you don't want them to have.

Walking home from school with the boys. Tra-la-la-la-la. A grandmotherly woman, whom I have seen many times in my travels and never known to be anything but pleasant, stops on her way from the mailbox and watches us.

*Cue the Jaws music*

When we get to her, she asks, "Would the boys like some mechanical toys?"

"No," I politely say, "They tend to break mechanical things."

"Oh, they're just little mechanical dogs. They can't hurt them."

"Well, they're throwers, and--" (Here I was about to tell her about the remote control fire truck that broke the first day, but she interrupted by doing what happened next.)

She turned to my children and asked THEM.

Yeah, hi. Remember me? The mom? The mom that just TOLD YOU NO???

She ran off to get the dogs and brought them back to the kids and happily shows them how they work.

"I bought them for my dogs, but they know they're not real," she says. But I am also pretty stunned and say nothing. She tries to hug me and laughs an apology. Not a real apology, mind you. A fake, "ha-ha get over it, this is no big deal" sort of apology.

Why would you do that? Why would you listen to me tell you no, but be so blatant as to disrespect me in front of my children? Especially when I DON'T KNOW YOU?


So now I have these stupid toy dogs that have long leashes on them. Did I mention my kids like to wrap things around their necks? No? Let me tell you that now. My kids like to wrap things around their necks.

I've hid them. I'm hoping they will forget about them and I can donate them at the first available moment.