Overheard at bedtime

As recounted by M:

C: “Daddy, my scissors cut a hole in my favorite shorts.”

Daddy: “Oh really? And who was controlling the scissors?”

C: “My hand.”

Daddy: “And who was controlling your hand?”

C: “Um, my arm.”

Daddy: “And who was controlling your arm?”

C: “My shoulder!”


It’s a nice voice…

I have spent much of the past week listening to myself talk, but apparently I am the only person listening. For example, today, after I mopped the front stairs, I very clearly said “Stairs are wet. Do not go up. You will fall.” Pretty much just like that, in a loud “do not argue with me” voice. Both kids nodded. I headed to the sink to dump the dirty water. In the three seconds my back was turned, not one but two children headed straight up the wet stairs. And then right back down again on their backs.

After ascertaining that there were no broken bones, etc, etc, etc, I very calmly asked “And what did I just tell you about the stairs?” Both children looked at me blankly. “Did I not just tell you that they were wet and not to go up?” Shrugs all around. Finally C piped up with a “I needed my lunch box. For the trip to Maine.” Which is in five days.

I don’t know why I even bother to issue warnings. I can scream “Car, car car” in a parking lot, and C will look right through me and the oncoming car. I can say “There will be no TV until the playroom is picked up, and everyone will continue to sit on the couch staring at the blank TV asking where Dragon Tales is. My favorite, “It is time for breakfast/lunch/dinner,” which you would think would send kids running for the table, is ignored until I take the food and put it back in the fridge. At which point there are whines and tantrums to end all whines and tantrums.

Is it just me? Am I the only one who hears what I say? Because if I am, I’ll just shut up. I mean, I like the sound of my own voice, but not that much.

Officially crazy

It is 2:44 am and I am prowling around the house trying to find the source of the water I swear I hear running from the upstairs bath, but can’t hear anywhere else. I have really and truly lost it.

Update: The source was found, apparently our water softener regenerates (whatever that means) at 2:30 in the morning. But, thanks to my prowl, I have been up since 2:31 am anyway. And have I gotten anything useful accomplished? No, not really. Although I did make $26 on eBay today, whooo!

Bets anyone?

Every night after dinner for the last two or three years, we have watched a TV show (or two). Tonight, for some reason, my children have discovered their toys. I keep pointing out that it is getting close to bedtime, and they might want to start picking up so they could start their show, they keep telling me they are having too much fun. So I finally told C, “OK, but I don’t want any tears if there isn’t time for a show before bed.” And he cheerfully told me “OK, there won’t be.”

Any bets on how many minutes of hysteria there will be when I announce bedtime without a show?

A bit of a dry spell

Have y’all noticed that there isn’t much going on here at Chichimama’s place? Yep, my brain has been officially fried by worry and stress and have I mentioned the water that is still seeping into my basement? So forgive me for the blog drought. Perhaps Lubbock, TX will pray for me too.

Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, I have spent the past three nights sitting quietly at the dinner table with nary a word to say to M either. And he has started to get a bit concerned with my lack of verbosity both online and in person. I believe he asked my no fewer than ten times tonight if I was “OK.” I am, I think. I just can’t really put together a coherent thought, so I’m filling in with dribble. Or is it drivel. See, I can’t even decide which words to choose. So, on that note, forgive me if I continue to post drivel (I made a decision, yeah!) for a while. Perhaps once we get to Maine my ability to complete a sentence will return.

Only in Texas

So apparently, if you lives in Lubbock, Texas, you need to start praying. Can town councils actually pass resolutions telling people to pray? I have nothing at all against people deciding to pray on their own for rain, but I have always been pretty hard-core on the separation of church and state thing. And this strikes me as a pretty obvious breech of that. But then again, I tend to thing that presidents shouldn’t be sworn in using Bibles either. So maybe it is just me…

Who knew?

Yesterday we had a lovely blogger meetup with Liesl and Liam (otherwise known as Zeph). There was much excitement Chez J-E to meet a new friends, and many questions about how we knew this new friend. Which led to somewhat vague responses as we are trying to teach our very outgoing four year old about strangers…but that is another story.

This story is all Liesl, Liam and the turkeys. Liesl lives suprising close to us, who knew? We arrived almost on time despite a rocky start out of our household. Liesl and Liam were as lovely and smart as they seem in their blog (and although all blogger meet up stories seem to start that way it is really true! I swear!). C was highly impressed by Liam’s train table and rocket collection, and A quickly found the doll house.

After a little negotiation, I managed to drag my kids out of the house for our planned outing, a trip to the local turkey farm where one can also pick corn and peaches and other such wondrous things not found in our congested neck of the woods. We saw the turkeys first, and I, farm girl that I am, exclaimed “THAT’s what a turkey looks like?” It was skinny and white, very plucked chicken-like. Not at all like the pictures one sees around Thanksgiving. And the gobble gobble? Yeah, they actually quack. I swear. Who knew??

Because the fields were wet, we were advised against picking, which bummed me out but C and A could have cared less because there was – a playground! On the farm! With slides and swings and tricycles! My monkeys clamored all over everything while jet-lagged Liam looked like he just wanted to go home, poor thing.

Anyway, Liesl was a doll for hosting us right after getting back from Chicago, and C can’t stop talking about Liam and the “sneezy dog.” And while this blogger meet up went much better than our last, as I learned my lesson and stayed clear of a museum, there was still much chasing and kid reprimanding, and not much opportunity to find out all the burning questions I had about Liesl.

Thanks again Liesl, and if we ever sell our house and move, you are welcome to come up to visit us anytime! Although all we have to offer is a small patch of lawn and a 7-Eleven on the corner. No apple picking or turkeys around here. But I’ll make you some bread…

And this was all before 9am…

C: Why is there a baby in her tummy?

Mommy: Because they wanted another member of their family.

C: How did the baby get there?

Mommy: When mommies and daddies get married, they sometimes decide to start a family, and so they make a baby together.

C: How?

Mommy: Remember how there are eggs in mommies’ tummies? The daddies have seeds that join with the egg to make a baby.

C: But HOW does the seed get into the mommy’s tummy? And how does it know it is supposed to go to the egg? And where do the seeds live?

Mommy: Those are great questions, but they will take some time to answer and we are running very late, can we talk about it tonight?

C: I’m not going to forget.

Mommy: Trust me, I know you won’t.

I did it JUST like the books said folks. He was supposed to be happy with the egg and seed thing. Now I’m going to have to keep going, aren’t I? I’m going to be the mommy who gets the 50 billion phone calls from preschool because her kid told the whole 4 year old class about sex. I know we should have had the conversation right there, but we WERE running very late…

Ah, to be four

A: “Mommy, I need milk.”

C: “I need ice. And water. And some more ketchup.”

A: “I need a new diaper. And a wipe.”

Mommy: “Hold on, I can only do one thing at once.”

C: “Good thing I am going to grow up to be a human octopus.”


In lieu of a real post, here are some pictures of the old house (just in case anyone is inspired to move down the street from me and be my neighbor) and the new house.

Old sun porch, not a good pic really but I’m too lazy to go take another :-).

Old family room….

Old dining hallway…

New playroom…

New kitchen….already cluttered.

New backyard…

New mudroom, otherwise known as the whole reason we bought the house. Already being used to house items other than coats and boots.

And, a gratuitous photo of the fat lazy cat.