My book orders just came in!!
3.31.2011
What Will I Do...
3.29.2011
3.16.2011
3.08.2011
The Llamas are Making Babies!
Erin wanted to hear Miley Cyrus in the car. So I found the cd and obliged. Then the conversation begins:
Kate: I don't like Miley Cyrus
Me: Why?
Kate: She smokes.
Me: Yeah, that's gross.
Kate: My friend said she smokes P.O.T.
Me (totally prying to see what she really knows): What is that?
Kate (matter of factly): Pot.
Me (again): What is that?
Kate: I have no idea.
Me: It's drugs.
Kate: oh. My friend said she pole dances. What's that?
Me: *LONG pause* *what the heck do I say??* Um. Well. It's dancing in a way that is inappropriate.
Ok. Stop there.
Up til now you can say anything you want and they know that what mommy or daddy says goes. I could've said:
Pole dancing is this funny dance competition where people climb to the top of a pole with tap shoes on and as they slide down the pole they do a tap dance and try not to fall off the pole. The person who can tap dance all they way to the bottom of the pole without falling off wins.
But she's eight now. These stories are not so convincing. I hate opening the can of worms when she asks these questions. I H.A.T.E. it. The minute I said, "inappropriate" I wanted to throw up. It's like a domino effect. "Inappropriate" leads to "sexy" leads to "ohmygodican'tthinkofhowi'mgoingtoexplainsexyQUICKchangethesubject"!
All of this leads me to wonder just what is going on in that eight year old brain. One of the kids in Kate's class, who's parents are farmers and have lots of animals on their farm, told Kate the llamas are making babies. The llamas are making babies! Kate couldn't wait to see the llamas making babies. What the heck did she think she would see??? Mama Llama and Papa Llama forming llama babies out of cotton and clay?
"Papa Llama can you please get me some stones from the creek for baby llama's eyes?"
"Why yes, Mama Llama, I will. And then shall we add a little twig tail from the peach tree?"
I wish so badly she could be little forever. I am not ready for this. Or maybe I am. I have to be, right? There's no going back now. Keep marching forward, at a slow pace though.
Kate: I don't like Miley Cyrus
Me: Why?
Kate: She smokes.
Me: Yeah, that's gross.
Kate: My friend said she smokes P.O.T.
Me (totally prying to see what she really knows): What is that?
Kate (matter of factly): Pot.
Me (again): What is that?
Kate: I have no idea.
Me: It's drugs.
Kate: oh. My friend said she pole dances. What's that?
Me: *LONG pause* *what the heck do I say??* Um. Well. It's dancing in a way that is inappropriate.
Ok. Stop there.
Up til now you can say anything you want and they know that what mommy or daddy says goes. I could've said:
Pole dancing is this funny dance competition where people climb to the top of a pole with tap shoes on and as they slide down the pole they do a tap dance and try not to fall off the pole. The person who can tap dance all they way to the bottom of the pole without falling off wins.
But she's eight now. These stories are not so convincing. I hate opening the can of worms when she asks these questions. I H.A.T.E. it. The minute I said, "inappropriate" I wanted to throw up. It's like a domino effect. "Inappropriate" leads to "sexy" leads to "ohmygodican'tthinkofhowi'mgoingtoexplainsexyQUICKchangethesubject"!
All of this leads me to wonder just what is going on in that eight year old brain. One of the kids in Kate's class, who's parents are farmers and have lots of animals on their farm, told Kate the llamas are making babies. The llamas are making babies! Kate couldn't wait to see the llamas making babies. What the heck did she think she would see??? Mama Llama and Papa Llama forming llama babies out of cotton and clay?
"Papa Llama can you please get me some stones from the creek for baby llama's eyes?"
"Why yes, Mama Llama, I will. And then shall we add a little twig tail from the peach tree?"
I wish so badly she could be little forever. I am not ready for this. Or maybe I am. I have to be, right? There's no going back now. Keep marching forward, at a slow pace though.
3.03.2011
Poo Poo Potty Song
We are well on our way to begin potty training our little man. Every night during dinner, like clock work, he has been needing to go potty. He strains (holds it in) and yells, "Poo poo potty!" Then one of us tears him out of his booster seat, runs him to the bathroom, rips down his pants, furiously grasps at the diaper velcro and throws him on the potty.
All for nothing.
He'll sit for a second and then say, "All done." Or cry. Or scream. So we take him down from the potty and proceed to re-diaper the butt, pull the pants up and go back into the booster seat.
Tonight as soon as Christopher decided he did not want to sit on the potty for more than 3 seconds, I sang a song to him about pooping on the potty like a big boy. He calmed down long enough to sit and... well, you get the picture. Apparently the song stuck. And Christopher got a jellybean.
Here he is performing his version of the song, accompanied by a guitar:
All for nothing.
He'll sit for a second and then say, "All done." Or cry. Or scream. So we take him down from the potty and proceed to re-diaper the butt, pull the pants up and go back into the booster seat.
Tonight as soon as Christopher decided he did not want to sit on the potty for more than 3 seconds, I sang a song to him about pooping on the potty like a big boy. He calmed down long enough to sit and... well, you get the picture. Apparently the song stuck. And Christopher got a jellybean.
Here he is performing his version of the song, accompanied by a guitar:
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