Those Commercials!

Larien felt poorly last night, but not so much that we worried. We knew T could handle it, so we left for dinner out, which is a complete necessity after I coach my girls basketball team. I get amped up that making me walk a few blocks in order to eat saves me from indigestion. 

While we walked, we remembered that we hadn't given Larien medicine. I texted T. She sent me this account.

"Advil? I can't take Advil!!!!!"

"Why not, Larien?"

"BECAUSE! I heard on a TV commercial that if you take Advil you could suffer from DEATH!"

I'll have to coach T to call it ibuprofen next time.

Honesty

"Wait, Mom. I have to fart," says my son.

"Thanks for telling me," I reply.

He giggles so much that bubbles of spit form at his lips. "I had to hold my peni$."

I didn't ask why.

There's a right time for everything

As it has been a long day for me because of kid things, end of year parties, and just life of a mom of three, I jokingly asked Finwe at 3:30 if it was time for wine.

"Yeah," he answered, nodding his head. As he pulled his monster truck from the bowl of dog water, he added, "But it's not time for vegetables."

Short Story: Full of Holes

Saturday, we took the kids to an outlet mall to gear up. Their growing bodies, especially Larien's, have exhausted their pants. Phill got some time to shop alone as did I. The girls enjoyed choosing their own clothes, and even Finwe got into the spirit of looking for something new (he's the only one not in need of clothes).

After a snack, we split the kids: the girls with me and the boy with Phill. Inwe, Larien, and I shopped for pants at The Children's Place while Phill tried on pants somewhere.

Phill tried on pants as Finwe watched. In a loud voice, Finwe announced, "Oh, my gosh, Daddy. Your underwear is full of holes!"

Broken Moon

Oh a Skype conversation with my mom:

"MomMom, I see the moon."

"What does it look like, Finwe?"

"It's only part of the moon."

"Oh."

"MomMom, maybe someone can climb up the tree into the dark and fix the moon."

I'm too tempted by the thoughts in his head. I have to ask, "What's wrong with the moon?"

Finwe looks at me as he points at the crescent moon through the window. "It's broken. Someone needs to put it back together."

Ignore That

The kids played outside yesterday morning as New Orleans got some blow by winds of TS Eduardo making the normally hot and humid city windy and not so humid. My kids have gotten good at using water as a play item, much like I did when I was a child. The backyard had two hoses and three spigots (why we need that many water spigots? Ask another of the house's owners.), which is awesome when three children all want access to the water.

I, however, had something very important to do inside that probably had something to do with paying bills or blowing all the snot out of my nose. As I said, of the upmost importance. As I watch them out of the windows, I rap to tell them stop that or just make them bring down the squirting a bit. Mrs. H doesn't need that much water in her yard.

Larien comes in the back door to ask for a squirt bottle. I give it to her. As she leaves, she says, "Just ignore all the yelling. It's only us having fun."

Healthy Food

As Phill has embarked on an every other night call schedule, the kids, dog, and I escaped to Florida for a very long weekend. We treated my mother to pizza the first night. Last night, my mother made dinner for us. Good sturdy fare with way too many carbs and fat.

I wish I had been in the kitchen when Inwe loaded her plate and let loose this statement. "Mom Mom, you cook less healthier than Mommy."

Attention Span

While T visited, we ate out for lunch at a sandwich/po-boy shop a few blocks from the house. We ate at a round table near the coolers where the varying drinks wait for purchase. Larien sat, eating her sandwich (grilled cheese, no soup), with one foot to the side of the chair.

A young man grabbed a soda, did a quick turn, and tripped over Larien's out-stretched foot.

"Oh, excuse me," he offered as he touched her shoulder ensuring that she was unhurt.

"Thank you," she replied.

I explained to her that she should sit with both her feet forward to keep people from tripping on her.

To that, she commented, "It was him who wasn't paying attention."

T and I laughed with too much mirth to make any response.

New Title

When I returned from the hospital, my daughters greeted me outside with gifts in hand. My son waited inside. When I opened the door, he saw me. He ran, and seeing toddler legs in action requires one to smile. His arms open, his eyes smiling, he said, "Dere's my mudder!"

That is my new title to him. Mother.

I kinda like it.

Super

The kids played super heroes in the back yard last night. Even Finwe participated, pretending to have flames or magic or something shoot from his outstretched palm. As it neared bedtime, we gave them a deadline to save the world. I think they found success.

Finwe, still in super power mode, chanted as he climbed the stairs.

"Super Finwe! I'm Super Finwe! With a Super Penis!"

A Sure Sign that You're at Mom Mom's House

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can we have Cheetos for dinner?"

New Language

Larien skipped into the den, where I played with Finwe. "Hi, Larien."

"Hi, Mommy. We're back."

"Did you have a good time at Croissant D'or?" Tha's the breakfast and lunch restaurant on Ursulines St in the French Quarter that Phill likes to visit on the weekends.

"Mommy?" Larien's head cocked and her nose wrinkled. "Why are you speaking New Orleans?"

Fisticuffs

As it happens in a family in which one is a health care professional, I was alone with the kiddos from morning until bedtime. The day progressed well. We played, watched TV, learned using the computer, took the dog for a walk, used me as the evil witch, ate dinner, and began the bedtime routine.

I had disappeared to check on Finwe, who was lounging on my bed. Upon my return to where the girls were brushing teeth, I witnessed the two fighting. Fists. Angry faces. Grunts. I separated them, ordering each to their rooms. Oh, was I mad. As punishment, I had them clean the bathroom mirror and vanity, as I suspect that is what started the entire fight--a small vanity that they must share. (Remember those days, Mav?)

When I told Phill about it after he finally made it home, his response left me dumbfounded. "If they were fighting, that means that Larien was sticking up for herself. That doesn't usually happen."

Uh, he's right, but . . .
but . . .
but . . .
There really isn't a qualification. Larien doesn't retaliate. When Finwe whacks her, she runs, crying for one of us. Some incidents cause her to yell at him to stop. Mainly, she does nothing.

In the interest of continuing a positive spin, this is a development. May I not see too much more of it. Although, the house might be tidier.

Who Made That Rule?

It's fun going through my mother's photos. This is from July 2007 at my sister's house. I think we should have been posing for a portrait. Check out Larien's face.

My mother wakes up early as she has since I can remember, so I lounge in bed until I must leave it. The time of 8:30am is such a luxury. Can you believe I think a mere 8:30 is sleeping in? Because Mom wakes as she does, the kids use her as their wait staff in the morning.

When I went to bid Inwe good morning, she informed me that Mom Mom was being a little bit mean.

"How's that?"

"She made me try a bit of a sandwich."

"Well, that doesn't seem so mean."

"Grandmother's aren't supposed to do that."

That's My Doubloon

We'd caught a few doubloons from the Ancient Druid parade this evening. Instead of dropping those in the canvas bag we had with us to carry the loot, I put the discs in my pocket.

A little while later I lamented about the outage of the street lights near where we watched the parade. "I might have to get some money so I can buy those flashing things from the street vendor," I said to our neighbor.

"Mommy," Larien shouted using her listen-to-me-now tone, "You will not spend our doubloons."

Don't Wanna Grow Up

"Mom," Inwe called from her brother's room.

I said a simple, "Yes," as I joined her, both of us trying to get Finwe out of his pajamas.

"I don't want Finwe to grow up."

"Why is that?"

"Then he won't be as cute."

How To Speak Like a Toddler

Pronounce the word alligator this way:


appegator

Animal Non Grata: Elephants

We visited the Audubon Zoo with my sister. Since we had bought a yearly pass, we meandered, not worrying if we saw absolutely everything.

Right when we arrived the elephants were entering the water in their enclosure. Inwe and Larien crushed against the bars, but Fiwne screeched. Fear caused him to hide his face in the stroller. I threaded my way through the crowd to a place further from the elephants.

"I don't like elephants!" His voice near to shouting his pronouncement.

"That's OK, Finwe. It's alright to be afraid of something that big."

"They could stomp me."

Not Sweet Enough

We fulfilled a promise to the children, taking them to Cafe du Monde.

Larien enjoyed the biengnets the most. When done, she asked, "Do they have dessert here?"

Raised by Wolves

The moving van that arrived at the house in Charlottesville dwarfed the driveway and the garage next to which it was parked. The boy in Finwe became excited to view a truck that large that closely. I believe his boyhood was challenged.

"Wanna go pee on the wheel."

I shook my head like a cartoon character and leaned in closer, sure I had misheard him. "What do you want to do?"

He stopped, turning in the direction of the tractor-trailer's rear. "Wanna go pee on the wheel."