Dictionary--Preschool Style

Scar: The reflection of your boo boo.

Pretty good one, right? Little Sissy is starting to amaze me just like Big Sissy did at that age.

And by the way, Little Buddy is talking UP A STORM. Finally. OK. So maybe you can't understand him. But mark my words. He is going to be a story teller.

Go Right Ahead, Honey!

I'm not winning any "Mommy of the Year" awards today. I feel like I say that a lot. Today Little Buddy came and asked me--in his toddler mix of sign language and broken English--if he could squirt Little Sissy with water. Being the laid back Mommy that I am, I thought, "Why not? It's only water and we can't go outside in the rain anyway. It might be fun." I DID tell him to get her permission first, though, which obviously didn't happen. The next thing I know Little Sissy is screaming and Big Sissy comes running to tell me that Little Buddy is squirting her with Oxy-Clean. Oops. I didn't even know I left that out and I certainly didn't mean to give him permission to squirt his sister with it. I had one clean little ANGRY girl. If DFS shows up on my doorstep tomorrow, I'm tracking you down. You know you've done dumb stuff too.

Right? Right?

Little House in Suburbia

Sometimes my girls remind me of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, the way they love adventure and love to use their imaginations. I almost laughed out loud when we were at Silver Dollar City and the Tom Sawyer area had a big bucket labeled, "for washing rocks." My kids ask me to send a bowl out with them nearly every time they're outside playing. The bowl has to have warm water with 3 squirts of soap so they can wash rocks for their collection.

Lately, though, we've been more of a Little House on the Prairie family. I started reading the series with Big Sissy a couple of months ago, and she has added some additional pioneer stories to the mix that we borrowed from a friend. I think we've gotten a little confused about where they end and we begin, though. For example, the other morning I woke up to find Big Sissy in my bed. Since that is unusual at our house, I probed until she told me that she dreamed that she was being chased by a pack of wolves (sound like Pa Ingalls?). Another day Little Sissy told me to stop talking about Indians because she didn't want them to hear us and come in our house. That led to a long discussion about not judging people, even though Caroline Ingalls did. Another time she spontaneously burst into tears. When I asked what was wrong, she said, "Mommy, I don't want you to churn all of our milk into butter. I really really love milk." The funniest so far, though, was this morning when I was giving the kids a bath. Since Big Sissy is the oldest, I'm ready for her to start doing more by herself. I was drying off Little Sissy and I told Big Sissy to drain the water and dry off. Pretty soon I heard her yell, "Mommy, can you bring me my towel? I'm freezing cold in this CIVILIZATION bathtub!" I'm sure she would have been much warmer sitting in a bucket filled with water heated over the wood stove, but I'm doing my best. I better go google how to make lye soap.

Say What You Need To Say

In contrast with our girls, our boy has NOT talked early. In fact, he's always just on the cusp of needing some kind of speech intervention. That is why I'm THRILLED when he says something I can understand--especially when it's two or more words hooked together. This clip is of Little Buddy, who finally decided he has something worth saying. He says it the same way every night, and always with the same deadpan expression. Since it still makes me laugh, I thought it might make you smile too.

Born to Argue

I've always said that Big Sissy would be a great lawyer. She's articulate, she's smart, and she loves to argue. She's good at it, actually. While we were in Branson our friends kept the kids one night while we went on a date. They started jumping on the bed, and Mr. Nathan told them he didn't think they were allowed to jump on beds.

"Mommy says it's OK, but only in hotels. Never at home," she replied.

Not sure if she was telling the truth (but knowing it sounds like something I probably would say), he tried another tactic. "I just don't want you to fall off and get hurt."

Big Sissy looked at him, looked at the king-sized bed (which seemed HUGE to us), and said, "I think this bed is far too wide for that to happen."

Shrugging, Mr. Nathan gave in. "You can't argue with logic," he conceded.

Now that Little Sissy is getting a little older, I think I have 2 lawyers in our midst. We had 2 incidents with her today. First we were having a discussion about something in the van and not seeing eye to eye. Finally in frustration she said, "Well, I said what I said and you should mean what I said." That just made me laugh and the tension was over.

Then tonight after singing the color song for about a million times while they were in bed (Orange, orange, orange, who is wearing orange today?....pink, pink, pink, who is wearing pink today?...), I finally told them it was time to stop singing and go to sleep. Little Sissy said, "Mommy, here are your choices. You sing the color song again or I'm dying or I'm not talking to you for 15 years." Whoa. This language skill that seems like such a gift to girls is their biggest downfall. I'm the first to admit it. We learn to manipulate early!!

Ballet Recital

The girls had their first ballet recital this week. They were ADORABLE! I can't get the videos to upload for some reason, but here are a few snapshots. Little Sissy was in the 2-3's class, and they wore sunshine yellow. Big Sissy was in the 4-5's class, and they were in blue. They performed in the seminary chapel, but they did not dance to "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" (to answer my dad's question). They danced to princess music.

Happy Mother's Day!

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