Summer Pay

Amanda: Mom, you haven't paid us for chores.

Me: That's because you haven't done any.

Amanda: Yeah, but it's summer.

Me: And???

Amanda: We deserve a break.

Me: That's fine, but I'm not gonna' pay you for it.

Amanda: We let you take naps.

Me: So?

Amanda: You should pay us for not bothering you.

Me: Right.

The Penguin Robbery

Today is Megan's birthday!! In honor of her special day, I decided to post a book she wrote a few months ago.

THE PEIGUEN ROBRY
(aka The Penguin Robbery)

The moral of the story? Stealing food will not make you happy, but it will make you fat.

And yes, she did draw another picture of the bad, fat penguin after she'd written "The End". Almost like an epilogue.

"Not So Hot" Dogs

There's a girl down the street who is Megan's age, and just about everyday this summer she has been over to our house to play and vice versa. Usually she's at our house during the day, and then my girls go over to her house for night swimming and sitting around their fire pit.

Tonight the girls tried to change it up a bit, and talked the other mom into letting Megan stay for dinner. When I found out that they were having hot dogs, I was surprised that Meg wanted to stay and eat because she does not like hot dogs. At all. But hey, it's not like I was cooking up anything fancier than that.

Well, about 10 minutes later the phone rings ...

Me: Hello?

Megan: Mom, I want to come home for dinner.

Me: Why?

Megan: They're having hot dogs and I don't like hot dogs.

Me: I know, but it would be rude to not eat what they offer you.

Megan: I know, so can I come home and eat dinner with you?

Me: I guess. I'll walk down now to come get you.

Megan with much relief in her voice: Thanks Mom.

I rang the doorbell and explained to my neighbor that though I knew Meg didn't like hot dogs, I thought for sure she'd suck it up for an extended play date at their house. Guess not. I mean we are talking hot dogs here.

When we got home, Meg asked what we were having for dinner.

Me: Mac ...

Megan: Macaroni & Cheese?! YUMMY!!

I shouldn't have felt smug ... it was only mac-n-cheese for cryin' out loud, but I gotta' say ... I kinda' did.

So lame, I know.

Where Do Babies Come From?

This is a question I have yet to answer directly.


My girls know the general area where babies come from, but again, I have not felt the need to give specific details.

A few days ago, I overheard Megan talking to Amanda about their future. She was talking about when they have babies of their own ...

Megan: Then you'll pee a baby girl and another baby girl, and I'll pee a baby boy and a baby girl.


See? No details necessary. You take a trip to the restroom and come back with a baby. It's all good.

I'll Have What She's Having

Megan loves fake nails. I have mentioned this before.

This past Saturday she scrounged around and found 10 fake nails to apply to her own. She had 6 zebra nails and 4 french-manicured nails. Rather than be embarrassed that they didn't match, she showed them off to me as a fashion statement. (No surprise there.)

Within an hour we were off to find a bridal shower gift, and Megan was already wanting the fake nails off.

In the car she managed to remove all but 4 nails. Then in the first store she got 3 more off, but the last one was proving to be extremely stubborn. She worked on it some more on the way to the second store. Once inside, and while Amanda and I browsed different items, Meg kept picking at the last nail.

We finally found something to purchase and got in line to check out.

While we were standing there I heard Megan start chanting in low tones ...

"Yes. Yes. Yes."

I looked down to see that the final nail was finally breaking free. The more it gave way, the louder her chant ...

"Yes. Yes! Yes!! YES!! YES!! YES!! YES!!!! YES!!!!"

I was immediately reminded of Meg Ryan in the deli scene from When Harry Met Sally, and apparently so was everyone else around us because they all kept looking over at my Meg with eyebrows raised.

As embarrassed as I was, I couldn't help but laugh. Megan wanted to know what was so funny, and of course I just said, "Nothing."

One Letter Makes ALL the Difference

On Sunday mornings, I sing in our church choir. My girls sit close to the front of the church so that I can sit with them right after I'm done singing.

Several Sundays ago, I sat down next to Megan who passed me a note she'd been working on for several minutes ...



At first glance I thought it said, "Good sinning."

Good sinning? I knew we'd had a rough morning (no different from any other morning where time actually matters), but could you really categorize my nagging to get her out the door as 'sinning'?

Or was she referring to the condition of my heart while I was up in front singing (which I thought to be pure enough, but what if she could see something I couldn't?)

Yes, I was beginning to obsess a wee bit about my daughter complimenting my sinning while the pastor began his message. What's the proper response to something like this anyway? A mad dash to the altar? Tearing my clothes and putting ashes on my head? What?!

Megan leaning over and whispering: Do you like it?

Me whispering back: Um, yes?

Megan: Then why aren't you smiling?

Me: It says, 'Good sinning'?!

Megan: No it doesn't. It says 'Good singing'.

Me: Oh! Well then yes, I love it. Thank you.


Yeah. The letter 'G' would have really helped here.

Jesus

If you haven't read the book "Heaven is for Real", you need to. It's a 3 year old's account of heaven (when he died for a few minutes on an operating table.)

One of my favorite parts in the book, is this drawing of Jesus:

I'd love to tell you why this picture is so incredible, but I don't want to give away any part of the book (that you're going to start reading any day now.) Someday I hope to have a framed replica hanging in my home. But until then, I'm more than happy with Megan's rendition:

If you don't know Jesus as your Savior, don't wait any longer. Time is short, and you need Him.

Yes, you do.

Just Take the #@&% Ice Cream Already!

It was a hot afternoon. Actually, it wasn't that hot. It was warm. I mean, July where we live is usually in the triple digits, and this day in July was only like 90. Still hot enough for a McDonald's ice cream cone. So while running errands ...

Megan: Mom, if I pay you back when we get home, can you buy me an ice cream at McDonald's?

Me: Amanda, would you like an ice cream cone too?

Amanda: Sure!

Megan: So I can pay you back when we get home then?

Me: You don't have to pay me back.

Megan: But I have enough money at home.

Me: I'm sure you do, but you don't have to use it on ice cream.

Megan: But I can.

Me: I KNOW, BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO. I AM GOING TO BUY IT FOR YOU.

Megan: So ...

Amanda: Megan!! You don't have to pay her back!! She wants to buy us ice cream, because she's a nice mom!

Me: Yeah, nice for 5 minutes anyway.

Amanda: No, you're nice ALL the time.

Me: Uh huh.

Megan: So I can't pay you back for the ice cream?

Me: You know what? Yes. Yes you can. Please pay me back for the ice cream as soon as we get home. Thank you.

Megan: But I don't want to.

Me: Ugh!!

Ice Cream Truck Guy

Megan: Hey look, it's an ice cream truck!

Me: We're not getting ice cream. You just had cake.

Megan waves at the ice cream truck.

Me: Megan, don't wave at him. He'll think you want ice cream.

Megan after the truck passes us and she gets a good look at the driver: Hey, he's one of those Jibberish guys.

Me: Huh?

Megan: You know, the kind with the turbin on his head.

Henry: That's part of their religion. They're not 'Jibberish', they're 'Sikh'.

'Jibberish'? Really???

The Ahh What?

A few afternoons ago, Amanda and I were perfecting our inner couch potato when an infomercial came on. If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know that Amanda absolutely LOVES infomercials. So when this one (about a bra) came on the other day, she was the perfect person to watch it with ...

Me trying to figure out just what I was watching: What kind of bra is it?

Amanda: It's the 'Ahh Bra'.

Me: The 'Ahh Bra'? Really?

Amanda: Yes. They had them at Walgreens the other day when we were there. Didn't you seem them?

Me: No. I would have remembered the 'Ahh Bra'.

As we kept watching, Megan walked in just as I noticed something.

Me: Uh, don't her boobs look weird?

Amanda: I don't think so.

Me: Yeah, look at them. They're all ... weird looking.

Megan: I think they look GOOD.

Alrighty then.

What do I know anyway?

Summer Sickness

Amanda has been sick. It seems the worst is over though. 6 days with a high fever is no way to spend your summer vacation.

When your kids are sick, you get to do things you never thought you'd do before having children. For instance ...

Her fever was so high for so long (104.5), that I spent one night with her in her little twin bed for as long as my back would allow, until moving to the floor. I just wanted to make sure she kept breathing, you know?

I woke up early on a Saturday morning (which I despise) just to get a good place in line at Urgent Care (It was worth it this time though. We only had to wait 15 minutes!)

Two days later, when she still wasn't better, I took her to her pediatrician where I got to do some other cool mommy stuff ...

First I got to help her get a urine sample (read = pee on my hand).

Then when I was told that blood work was going to be done (to rule out Mono), Amanda asked me what that meant. So, counting on honesty being the best policy, I told her they would either prick her finger and squeeze some blood out, or they would take it through a needle. Yeah, THAT went over well. So well that she got all worked up and made herself throw-up 3 times. And all 3 times I caught the vomit IN MY BARE HANDS. (Who says motherhood isn't glamorous?) The thing I found interesting, is that she just kept doing it ... in my hands ... as if that were normal. And I just kept catching it ... in my hands ... as if that's what I was created to do.

The Lab Tech came in with the feared needle. No finger prick today, sadly. So I then got to hold Amanda's arm still while it was stuck with the needle and 3 vials of blood were extracted. I would have preferred catching 3 more rounds of vomit than make her go through that, poor baby.

After watching her shiver (from the fever) in that office for 2.75 hours, a nurse finally offered a blanket. So at least she was warm for the last 15 minutes of our visit. She was given a prescription for a liquid antibiotic that made her gag so bad, that she threw up the first 2 doses. NICE. (At least this time she was near a sink!) After the 2nd time I actually told her, "You know, you really have to stop doing that." Surprisingly, that didn't help. She went ahead and threw up the 3rd dose.

After 6 days, that nasty fever finally broke and she was back to fighting with her sister, which was music to my ears ... for like 5 minutes.

Snack Abuse

Last Saturday afternoon, Megan told me she was hungry. I gave her the healthy snack suggestion of chips. She said she didn't want chips, and went back to watching her show.

About 15 minutes later, and after Megan didn't say another word about snacks, I went back to my bedroom to take a little nap.

30 minutes after that, Megan storms in ...

Megan: Where's my snack?!

Me: I suggested chips, but you didn't want them.

Megan: I'm still hungry!!!

Me: Then go get something to eat.

Megan: Ugh!! Why are you such a BULLY?!?!?

Wow. Did I miss something here?

Media Meg

The other night Megan got in trouble with Dad. The result was a painful behind. A few minutes later, after saying bedtime prayers with her ...

Megan: Dad hates me.

Me: No he doesn't.

Megan: Yes he does.

Me: You've accused me of hating you several times, and it's never been true.

Megan: You're the only one who doesn't hate me.

Me: Megan, just because you get punished for doing something bad, doesn't mean your parent hates you. And until you have kids of your own, you won't understand that it's impossible for a parent to hate their child.

Megan: Oh yeah? CASEY ANTHONY!!

Okay, really?? I did not see that one coming AT ALL. And we don't even have Court TV!! But obviously there was more than enough coverage of that trial for Megan to take note that a mom was on trial for killing her child. Lovely.

Me: They didn't prove that she hated or killed her daughter. Good night. I love you.

Megan: Love you. See you in the morning. Good night. Oh, and can you tell Dad that I'm ready for him to pray with me?

Me: You bet.

A Couple = A Couple

Yesterday afternoon ...

Amanda: Mom, remember when you told me that

'a couple' = 2, and 'a few' = 3?

Me: Yes.

Amanda: Wanna' know how I remember that?

Me: Sure.

Amanda: Well, a married couple has 2 people, so 'a couple' = 2.

Me: I've never thought of it that way before. That's very smart of you, Amanda.

Very smart indeed.

Parental Testing

This was a post I started a few months ago, when the girls were still in school. I kept meaning to get back to it, but obviously never did ...

Nothing prepares you for parenting. Nothing. Not babysitting. Not playing with baby dolls as a child. Not working in the church nursery. Not playing with your nieces when they're young. NOTHING.

There should be a test for those considering parenting. An extensive test. Here's a sample of a test I completely failed. The sad thing is that it happened after I already had kids. Had I been given such a test prior to motherhood, I'm sure I never would have been allowed to be a parent ...

Okay, so here's the test: Go a week with only 5 hours of sleep per night, so you're super delightful every morning. Then make sure that you have at least one child who speaks whineese fluently and frequently. You also have to work full-time and after a very long day, you must help your 7 year old with a 16 page math contract that takes 3 HOURS TO FINISH, while doing laundry. Oh, and when your 9 year old can't find the homework she had completed just the night before, that apparently was due today, you must look all over the house (only to determine that it must be at school) while listening to the 7 year old call out for help on her never-ending math homework. Then when the 9 year old has the audacity to ask when you're going to make dinner, you say ... what? Wanna' know what my reply was? "Um, never? If you're that hungry, feel free to make something. I'm not Wonder Woman."

I know. Mother of the Year, here I come.

Dinner Dialogue

Last Saturday for dinner we had grilled chicken breasts, corn on the cob, rice, and fresh strawberries. Not the kind of meal I would expect to bring on total mayhem, but alas ...

Me: Megan, no singing at the table.

Megan: Why not? Why can't we sing at the table?

Me: It's just not the place for it. Just like eating with your mouth full.

Henry: Eating with your mouth full?

Me: Talking with your mouth full. You know what I meant.

Amanda: What part of the chicken is this?

Me: The breast.

Amanda giggling: The boob? We're eating chicken boobs?

Megan singing: Chicken boobs. Chicken boobs.

Me: Okay, that's enough.

Amanda holding her corn cob up to her mouth: Dad, I know I'm not eating manly, but am I eating fast? Watch. (She starts motoring through her corn.)

Me: Why do you want to eat manly?

Amanda: Not manly. MANNERLY.

Amanda then breaks wind, which is way more manly than mannerly. Everyone laughs, I'm sorry to say. This causes Amanda to drop food from her mouth and down her shirt.

Henry: Now you've dropped chicken boobs down your shirt.

Megan mistaking the word 'boobs' for 'abuse': What's 'abuse'?

Henry: Eating at this table.

Pretty much.

Costco Conversations

Here's just a sampling of some of Megan's contributions to our Costco conversations ...

While eating a sausage sample, "You know what would make this even better? Barbeque sauce!! Everything's better with barbeque sauce. Especially ice cream."

Pointing to a picture of the Mona Lisa ...

Megan almost yelling: WHO is SHE?!

Me: Mona Lisa.

Megan frowning: Well ...

Me: Many people think she's beautiful.

Megan: Well ... I think she's .... uh .... pretty.

As we passed some blue mountain bikes ...

"Wow! That bike has a big seat AND it would look great with my jeans!"

Pyro-Meg-nia

This year was the first July 4th where the girls actually enjoyed the fireworks. In years past, they've either watched from indoors where it's quiet, or watched outside with earplugs, or just not watched at all.

This time, they not only watched, but Henry had them lighting the fireworks as well. I'm not even kidding.

No big deal, right? I mean Amanda's 10 1/2 now and Megan will be 8 this month ... Perfect ages for handling fire, dontcha' think?

Halfway into the show ...

Megan: Mom, watch! Did you see me light that?

Me: Yep.

Megan: Now I can light my own birthday candles!!

Me: Uh, no. NO candle lighting. Explosives only.

I mean, let's not get carried away. Birthday candles? Puh-lease.

Worthlessness

After her bath the other night, Megan put on a pair of my long black boots (with nothing else, mind you), and walked out to the family room where Amanda was watching TV. This is so "Megan" that Amanda didn't even react.

Megan yelling down the hall: Mom! Can you bring me some pajamas?!

Me: Why can't you get 'em?

Megan not missing a beat: Because I'm worthless!!

I was so dumbfounded by her acknowledgement that I just brought her the pajamas.

AMVETS

Last week I bagged up some stuff we weren't using and called AMVETS for a pick-up. After I hung up the phone, Amanda asked who I had just called. I told her, and explained who they were.

The next day while we were driving, I saw an AMVETS truck ...

Me: Oh, look girls. It's an AMVETS truck. That's who is coming to pick up those bags next week.

Megan: AMVETS? What's AMVETS?

Me: American Veterans. Those are people who have served in the military.

Megan: Oh. I thought it meant Morning Veterinarians.

AM VETS = Morning Veterinarians ... makes sense to me.

The Olden Days

Amanda: Mom, I keep getting mixed up on which one is the Living Room and which one is the Family Room.

Me: Yeah, it's confusing.

Amanda: I call the room with the big TV the Living Room.

Me: Funny, that's the one I consider to be the Family Room.

Amanda: Dad calls it the Living Room.

Me: I know. In my mind, the front room is the Living Room.

Amanda: I thought we called that the Office?

Me: Well we do (because there's a desk in the corner), but when I was growing up, the front room with the nicer furniture was always called the Living Room, and the one with the comfortable furniture and TV was the Family Room.

Amanda: Isn't the Living Room the same thing that people called Parlors in the olden days? And by 'Olden Days', I mean the 70's.

Me: Thank you so much for clarifying that.

Perhaps she meant the 1870's?