Sneakin Around in Her Pink Sneakers

Well, not actually sneaking. More like running and scootin' up a storm and letting them rest on her bunkbed while she sleeps.
It was time to get M a new pair of sneakers and we decided that she needed a tie pair because, well how else was she ever going to learn how to tie her shoes? And an aside here - there are not many tie options out there anymore. We just assume our kids cannot do it, or sadder, we don't have the time or the patience to wait for them. But either way, Target had only a couple of true tie tennis shoes. The first pair I found were perfect. Pink, low top sparkle star Converse One-Stars. Yes!
Only problem is they were the display pair with no other shoe like it in sight, no price, and no box. Turns out not a problem at all. We got them at a sale price since they couldn't locate the true price.

Any sage advice out there on the method for teaching her? Big N suggested the bunny ears way may be best, but I've never done it that way and find it difficult so I'm going with the old loop around method.
Any good rhymes come to mind?

Children Teaching Parents

We had another whirlwind day today. I was at work until five, then drove to the Y (stopping off at the grocer's) to meet Momma H who was waiting with LittleN outside of M's dance class. So, it was bathtime before I realized she was wearing some foreign hair adornment. This is nothing new. She has been coming home with traded gifts/headbands/schoolwork since day one of pre-K. Usually she is pretty savvy and does not trade but merely accepts other girl's gifts. I'm not sure precisely how this plays out, but she still has friends so she musn't be a bully.

In her stocking for Christmas this year, M got a nice rhinestone Hello Kitty headband. It came from Southpark and was not cheap, but Santa decided she really needed to have it. Since I know what Santa spent on a 5 yo's headband, I was especially neurotic that she would give this one away.

So, bathtime tonight I notice the contraband flimsy plastic polka dot headband and unfamiliar clip in her hair and ask, knowing answer, "Honey, where did you get that?"

"From MK."
"The clip. too?"
"No, that is from C."
"Did you trade, or did they give it to you?"
"Um"
"What did you give them?"
"Not both of them, just MK"
"Gave them what? (head whips around to her hair supply stash)"
"My Christmas one."

I was really annoyed when I heard this. I had made a point of telling her I knew Santa spent a lot of money on it and she needed to keep it for herself. It's not enough to lose jackets and stain clothes, she has to give her nice new things away, too!"

When she saw how frustrated and unhappy I was about her decision she reacted instantaneously with such honesty and truth:

"But Mom, I love my friend more than my headband."

Out of the mouth's of babes...

New Year, New Posts

Happy 2010.
This year will hopefully be about routine and normalcy (whatever that is.)
As you know, I started a new job over the holidays. I am back in a M-F 8-5 job which I have not had in a while. This will allow me to go to school on Tues/Thurs nights at Belmont Abbey College. Incidentally, I am taking classes at the school's satellite campus- Charlotte Catholic H.S. Yes, my alma mater. I will graduate college-from my high school.

M LOVES Kindergarden and is excelling all around - especially in reading and writing. She loves to make books. She will staples several sheets of printer paper together and get going with a cover, title, table of contents and pictures. She asks for help with some spelling but we try and let her sound everything out. Her favorite song right now is Fireflies by Owl City. It's super cute.

N is busy being a boy. He loves transportation right now. Trains, planes, cars, rockets. Actually, anything can zoom through the sky and fly if he has a mind to do it. We played bat the other day (despite the cooooold weather) and he is awesome. He can really smack the ball sometimes. Once, right before we pitched he turned around and spat on the ground. How do boys know to do this? His favorite song right now is Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. I know. It's catchy though and he likes the part where she growls a bit (Roma, roma-a-a-a-a.)



If this photo looks reminiscient it's b/c it came from the same November library photo shoot that our Xmas card picture came from.

Have a blessed New Year.

Rewind from this summer

NoJo at Chuck E Cheese
Can you believe these things cost a quarter?

Definition

Sprainkle (v): To injure oneself by falling or banging an extremity, causing short lived though severe pain to the affected region as evidenced by tight gripping and yowls. As in "Ow, I sprainkled my arm."

Also Known As: M's interpretation of "sprained ankle," a phrase I hastily applied to a stumble she had involving the stairs, her ankle, and pain. Sprainkled is now applied copiously to any pain she receives as defined above. Her father and I try not to giggle too much as she takes offense at our flippancy towards her pain.

Sucker Punched

Last night, right before bedtime, N was standing at my knees between the couch and the coffee table when he went over like a felled tree. Out of the blue just 'boom!' He smacked his mouth on the table and cut the inside of his lip real good with his tooth. With the both of us covered in blood- head wounds bleed a lot- I held him tight and iced his mouth. Here is how he looked by 11pm as he lay sleeping, peacefully beside me.

The next generation

So on Sunday M and Air-on both did a couple hilarious things. It started out during service (church) at Momma H and Pap's church that morning. The children were called up for a short message before the readings took place. Having just been the fourth of July the day before the message involved freedom. To illustrate this, an American flag was on the altar. When the woman speaking with the children asked what the flag was for M quickly raised her hand and responded: "For Obama." Which is great, except I've paid attention to the bumper stickers in the church parking lot. They don't a one say Obama.
Then, afterward at breakfast I was looking at the weekly entertainment magazine for movie times. On the cover was a picture of Michael Jackson circa Jackson 5, with his name and dates written. That's when A asked, "Aunt Gwen, why does that picture say Michael Jackson on it?" "Because it's a painting of Michael Jackson from when he was a boy." "Aunt Gwen, Michael Jackson wasn't black."
LOL LOL LOL
That was a fun one to try and explain. Actually, I challenge any one of you to imagine explaining MJ's life to a 5-9 year old.