Sunday, February 28, 2010
Going Private...
Hey Folks, I think I'm going to go private with my blog. Email me or leave me a comment if you want in and I'll add you to the list.
Friday, February 26, 2010
He's Crafty
Ever since Noah has learned how to write, he loves making cards and lists for people. I love it too because I get things like this:
Usually, Noah uses this newfound power of his for good. But sometimes…not so much. The other day Sam was not doing what Noah wanted him to do. Noah tried to appeal to me for help, but I simply reminded him that he is not the boss of Sam (I sometimes find myself reminding Noah that he is not the boss of me either). Noah realized he was getting nowhere with me, so I guess he felt that Santa Clause would be his only recourse. He promptly wrote a letter to Santa, detailing Sam’s egregious behavior. It went like this:
Dear Santa,
Sam has been yelling and scring [screaming] at me!
And he throde [threw] his closs [clothes] on the grawd [ground] and he was crying.
(Mother’s note: This letter was definitely an exaggeration.)
Speaking of Noah, he seems to have a sneaky streak in him. This morning he got dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I told him he needed to wear pants because it is still too cold for shorts. He reluctantly put on his pants and we left for school. Well, as it turns out, I forgot the yard stick that Noah was supposed to bring to school today (they are making horses for rodeo day) so I drove home and then back to the school to drop off the yard stick. So I walk in the classroom and wouldn’t you know it if my wily little child was wearing shorts! Apparently he put his pants on OVER his shorts and then took the pants off after I dropped him off. SNEAKY!!
All I could think was, it’s a good thing he’s a boy. If he was a girl I fear he would be the kind of teenager who wore tube-tops and daisy-dukes under her khakis and sweater-sets.
Usually, Noah uses this newfound power of his for good. But sometimes…not so much. The other day Sam was not doing what Noah wanted him to do. Noah tried to appeal to me for help, but I simply reminded him that he is not the boss of Sam (I sometimes find myself reminding Noah that he is not the boss of me either). Noah realized he was getting nowhere with me, so I guess he felt that Santa Clause would be his only recourse. He promptly wrote a letter to Santa, detailing Sam’s egregious behavior. It went like this:
Dear Santa,
Sam has been yelling and scring [screaming] at me!
And he throde [threw] his closs [clothes] on the grawd [ground] and he was crying.
(Mother’s note: This letter was definitely an exaggeration.)
Speaking of Noah, he seems to have a sneaky streak in him. This morning he got dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I told him he needed to wear pants because it is still too cold for shorts. He reluctantly put on his pants and we left for school. Well, as it turns out, I forgot the yard stick that Noah was supposed to bring to school today (they are making horses for rodeo day) so I drove home and then back to the school to drop off the yard stick. So I walk in the classroom and wouldn’t you know it if my wily little child was wearing shorts! Apparently he put his pants on OVER his shorts and then took the pants off after I dropped him off. SNEAKY!!
All I could think was, it’s a good thing he’s a boy. If he was a girl I fear he would be the kind of teenager who wore tube-tops and daisy-dukes under her khakis and sweater-sets.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Really? No, really?!?
Many of you have heard this story so just bear with me while I fill everyone in on the background because it will tie in to the rest of my post.
When I was about 7 months pregnant with Noah I experienced my first encounter with one of those people who seem to believe they can say anything, no matter how hurtful, to a pregnant woman. Evidently in such a person’s mind, the experience of being pregnant renders all emotions and feelings null and void and therefore tact is not necessary and any comment on the pregnant person’s body/appearance/ weight is completely appropriate. So I’m walking up a flight of stairs at church and an older woman walking up the stairs behind me says all cheerfully, “Well hi Amy! How are you feeling today?” So far so good. I reply that I am feeling well thank you and how are you? She then asks while examining my pregnant cankles, “Honey, are your legs swollen?”
Now here is where I should tell you that indeed, my legs were swollen. Pregnancy likes to mess with my legs. But I thought the question – and especially the implication – was so rude that I didn’t want to admit that. So I said with a smile, “No, I don’t think so,” thinking that she will probably then recognize the rudeness of her question and feel bad. Because I was suddenly feeling all passive-aggressive like that. But no. The woman, without skipping a beat, says, “Oh, well I guess you just have big legs then.”
Oh, yes she did.
Well I had no idea how to respond to that so I slowly turned around and walked away without saying another word. (But then I sat down on a pew and cried).
Anyway, fast forward 6 years to today. I’m at work and one of my co-workers sees me and says all cheerfully (why are these comments always delivered so cheerfully?), “Ooh, Amy I love your tights! They make your legs look big.”
The tone was complimentary. As was the first sentence, so I was really caught off guard with the second one. People, does the word “big” mean something different than I think it does? Because surely these women – who are otherwise friendly and nice – can not possibly think it’s okay to tell someone to her face that she has big legs. Am I missing something here?
The moral of this story is that I guess it is time to take up running again.
When I was about 7 months pregnant with Noah I experienced my first encounter with one of those people who seem to believe they can say anything, no matter how hurtful, to a pregnant woman. Evidently in such a person’s mind, the experience of being pregnant renders all emotions and feelings null and void and therefore tact is not necessary and any comment on the pregnant person’s body/appearance/ weight is completely appropriate. So I’m walking up a flight of stairs at church and an older woman walking up the stairs behind me says all cheerfully, “Well hi Amy! How are you feeling today?” So far so good. I reply that I am feeling well thank you and how are you? She then asks while examining my pregnant cankles, “Honey, are your legs swollen?”
Now here is where I should tell you that indeed, my legs were swollen. Pregnancy likes to mess with my legs. But I thought the question – and especially the implication – was so rude that I didn’t want to admit that. So I said with a smile, “No, I don’t think so,” thinking that she will probably then recognize the rudeness of her question and feel bad. Because I was suddenly feeling all passive-aggressive like that. But no. The woman, without skipping a beat, says, “Oh, well I guess you just have big legs then.”
Oh, yes she did.
Well I had no idea how to respond to that so I slowly turned around and walked away without saying another word. (But then I sat down on a pew and cried).
Anyway, fast forward 6 years to today. I’m at work and one of my co-workers sees me and says all cheerfully (why are these comments always delivered so cheerfully?), “Ooh, Amy I love your tights! They make your legs look big.”
The tone was complimentary. As was the first sentence, so I was really caught off guard with the second one. People, does the word “big” mean something different than I think it does? Because surely these women – who are otherwise friendly and nice – can not possibly think it’s okay to tell someone to her face that she has big legs. Am I missing something here?
The moral of this story is that I guess it is time to take up running again.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Finger-Lickin' Good
So this morning the boys and I went on a Sunday morning drive to the donut store. When we got home and ate our donuts we all sat on the couch to watch some cartoons. Sam and I were snuggling when all of a sudden he started licking his hands to get the glaze-remnants off. I'm talking a full-on hand licking, using full tongue from wrist to fingertips. So I'm just kind of staring at him incredulously while he is devouring his hands and when he notices my staring he stops mid-lick, holds both hands out to me and says, "Lick them off?" like he's offering me a treat.
Um, thanks buddy. I'll pass.
Um, thanks buddy. I'll pass.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Happy Birthday to Me (Cha Cha Cha)!
You know it's a good day when you both start AND end your day with the birthday Cha Cha Cha.
This morning my nieces called and left a voicemail with a very resounding round of Happy Birthday to You (Cha Cha Cha). And tonight Noah and Sam sang me the same song. They were kind enough to give me a repeat performance so I could get it on camera, even though it cut into their cupcake time.
Add in cinnamon rolls from my coworkers, a fun lunch with some girlfriends, cupcakes for dessert, calls from family & friends, and a darling top from Anthropology (thanks Mom and Dad!) and you've got one great birthday!
Except for the part where now I have to be 31.
This morning my nieces called and left a voicemail with a very resounding round of Happy Birthday to You (Cha Cha Cha). And tonight Noah and Sam sang me the same song. They were kind enough to give me a repeat performance so I could get it on camera, even though it cut into their cupcake time.
Add in cinnamon rolls from my coworkers, a fun lunch with some girlfriends, cupcakes for dessert, calls from family & friends, and a darling top from Anthropology (thanks Mom and Dad!) and you've got one great birthday!
Except for the part where now I have to be 31.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Friday, February 05, 2010
Politeness
So my dad is here visiting right now and we’ve been working with the boys this week on not saying “I want” so much because it sounds demanding. So instead, we’ve been encouraging them to say “I would like” or “May I please” or “Would you please” when they want something. To keep it simple and at a kid-level, we have a general rule not to use the word “want.”
This morning my dad dropped Sam off at daycare and the following exchange took place:
Sam: “Grampie, I would like for you to put my animals in my backpack for me please.”
Grampie: “Sam, that is such a polite way to ask! Thank you!”
Sam: “You’re welcome. Now do it.”
This morning my dad dropped Sam off at daycare and the following exchange took place:
Sam: “Grampie, I would like for you to put my animals in my backpack for me please.”
Grampie: “Sam, that is such a polite way to ask! Thank you!”
Sam: “You’re welcome. Now do it.”
Monday, February 01, 2010
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