Thursday, January 16, 2014

Maple Sweeties

Sadie: Dinner's ready! Here's your spot, sweetie. (She pointed to the chair next to her for Avery to sit in.)
Me: Where's your sweetie, Sadie?
Sadie: Right there. It's Avie.
Me: Where's my sweetie?
Sadie: Right here. Sadie's my sweetie.
Me: What about Daddy? Does he have a sweetie?
Sadie: It's Sadie. (She was very sure of herself.)
Me: Do you have any other sweeties?
Sadie: Uh huh! My sweetie is Santa Twause. He gave me a present.

Avery came crying to me. "I told Preston to not shake his bum at me, and he just did it MORE!" She looked intently at me, with tears in her eyes, waiting to find out what horrible punishment I would give him. What do you say to that? Other than, "I'm sorry he doesn't have very good manners," which is apparently not good enough for a seven year old girl whose life has been completely upset by a too-skinny-to-be-wobbly wagging booty...

Me: Sadie, I love you.
Sadie: Oh. I tooted.

Bill: These cookies might not taste very good?
Me: Why not?
Bill: Because I accidentally put in maple extract instead of vanilla...

I put Sadie into her crib for a nap. I knew she was tired, so I kept ignoring the yells. "I wanna stiw pway with those batteries! You stow my batteries! Give them back! Wet me out of here! Wet me out of my trib! I want those batteries back!" I finally let Avery get her out after a long time of yelling. Then I realized I had taken HER away from the pile of batteries and the wii remote, but I hadn't actually put them away and out of reach of my naughty two year old. She was happily playing with them when I found her. Not so happy when I took them away.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Ruined Castles

Me: Sadie, you can't take candy without asking.
Sadie: I just got a wittow chotowate for me. Tan you open that tandy tame for me?

Bill made chicken masala the other night. About every other bite, Sadie would say, "This is good! I wike this dinner." It's one of my favorites, too. I'm glad she likes spicy food. She fits in with the rest of the family.

I played Legos with Sadie last night. She kept telling me, "You ruined my tower!" or "You ruined my tuptate!" This morning, she has been playing by herself for the last half hour, and she is still blaming me. "You ruined my tastow, Mommy! You ruined it!" 

Preston said, "I'm probably the sickest person in the whole world!" I assured him that there are people sicker than he is. "Well, I'm at least probably the sickest person in this whole neighborhood." He's getting better, so I would guess we have a neighbor sicker than he is.

I just read about PBA, which is a condition that causes people to laugh or cry out of proportion to the situation and frequently, at inappropriate times. Many people with MS have PBA. I think I must have had this since I was a teenager. I have only seen this with laughter in myself so far, not the crying. So, when I laugh at your joke really hard, when it wasn't that funny, you know why. Also, when I laugh when someone sings a wrong note, blame MS instead of just thinking I am insensitive. Maybe my brother has PBA. You know what I'm talking about if you've seen him perform and laugh... 

A situation from last night that shows how I am inappropriate in my laughter: 

Carter: (praying last night) We thank thee that I could get my Webelos and Arrow of Light and...a bunch of other activity stuff...
Me: (kind of snorting in my attempt to not laugh out loud)
Carter: and please help me to stop laughing....
Me: (laughing harder, peek at Bill, who is not laughing, feel stupid but can't stop laughing)
Carter: and please help us to be more reverent during prayer...
Me: (still inappropriate in my laughter)
At the end, Bill looked at me like I was an idiot and a bad example to our kids. I also think it's funny when Sadie prays multiple times for "peopo" at every prayer.  And that she is loudly saying her own prayers when it's not her turn, trying to say it louder than the other person praying.

It's not as bad as a guy in the article who said he couldn't stop laughing during a funeral. Although, it sounds like something I would do and feel bad about for a long time.

I told my kids they couldn't do something, and they asked why not. I said, "Do you really have to ask why? Who's the meanest mom in the universe?" Carter said, "I have no idea," and Avery said, "I don't know." I must be slipping these days if they have forgotten. I'll have to try a little harder to earn my title back.

I had a little bit of energy, so I danced with Sadie for a few minutes. Preston told me that my bum is wobbly and that "nobody wants to see that." I'm pretty sure that he's told me I have a wobbly bum before. I guess I need a lot more dance parties to remedy the situation.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Roller Coasters and Hay Bales

I hate being late to church. I even hate when my family is late to church when I stay home. It stresses me out so much. I don't know why it is so hard to get everyone ready for church at 11:00 on Sundays when I get the kids ready for school every day by 8:00! 

I was reading Sadie a book about farm things a few minutes ago. "What's that, Sadie?" She answered, "It's a rower coaster." I told her what it really was. "Oh. It's a hay bayo?" Honest mistake. Roller coasters and hay bales have a lot in common.

Me: Sadie, where's your blanket?
Sadie: Daddy stow it! He took it to work!

Sadie brought me a toy potato. She was laughing really hard. "It's a funny poop. It wooks wike poop!" She laughed about this for about fifteen minutes this morning. *update* She actually laughed about the "potato poop" for almost an hour. 

Carter was standing by the door, watching for his ride this morning. Sadie yelled, "Tarter! Tarter, I need you! Tarter! Hurry, Tarter!" He came to her in the kitchen where she was eating her breakfast. "What do you need?" He sounded worried because of how distraught Sadie was. She told him, "I need you to det me that puzzow." 

Preston came home early because he wasn't feeling well. (Thanks for picking him up, Valerie.) He came just in time to watch Sesame Street with Sadie. "Do those two weird puppets live together? They don't even seem like they like each other." (He was talking about Bert and Ernie.) Later, Elmo said, "Dorothy is thinking about eyes, too." Preston interjected, "No, she's not! She's trying to get out of the bowl!" (The fish was ramming into the side of the bowl, so it was a valid observation.) Then, he said, "Mr. Noodle's a grown man, and he doesn't even know how to use his eyes. What an idiot." For some reason, Sesame Street just doesn't enthrall him like it used to...

Sadie's prayer for lunch: thank you for my mac and cheese. Thank you for my fork. Thank you for my water. Thank you for my penciw. Thank you for Preston's penciw. Thank you for Preston. And Tarter. And Avie. And Daddy. And Mommy. And Sadie. And puppies. And my mac and cheese. And some chocowate. Amen.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Funeral Papers

I reached over Bill's shoulder to try to click on a link. I tried several times. "It doesn't matter how many times you click it, it's still not going to work," Bill said. "Why? Did you already try it? Is the screen frozen?" He gave me a moment of silence to let me realize that I was clicking on the screen of a laptop instead of a tablet. Then, we laughed so hard that we could barely breathe.

Me: Carter, can you hand me those fingernail clippers?
Carter: I don't have any. I don't even know what funeral papers are!

I love when someone hears something way different from what is said. Not as funny as pants of doom, but still funny.

My lip cracked open yesterday, and it bled for about five hours. It was weird.

Trying to teach Sadie about family relations, I told her who my sisters were. I asked who her sister was. She answered, "Avery is my sister, and my other sisters are Tywer and Wizzie." (Cousins)

Another time, she was talking about her other cousins. I asked who their mom and dad were, trying to see if she had made the right connections in her head. She replied, "Charwot's daddy isn't Untow Mart! It's not Untow Mart. It's someone ewse!" I guess she knows...

Sadie was singing "Happy Birthday" to everyone yesterday and giving people fake gifts, saying, "It's your present! Happy Birsday, Mama!" (Or Avie or her baby doll, depending on whose birthday it was at that moment.) I was so grateful for all her thoughtful gifts of trash and/or broken toys.

Carter's birthday was not that long ago. We took a bunch of kids to play laser tag and arcade games. One kid told me, very earnestly, "Thank you so much for inviting me. My mom grew up a long time ago, and she just doesn't understand that kids need to have fun sometimes." Later, when he was somewhere else, I laughed really hard, especially because she is a WAY more fun mom than I am, and I know their family does more fun things than we do! Also, she's only a couple of years older than I am...

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Forcing Nature and Contact Cases

I think people prefer the funny me to the philosophical me. Not that I'm that funny, but I think lots of things are funny. And lots of people, especially when they don't even mean to be funny. Like when Preston jumped for joy in the kitchen at the exact time that the toaster popped up. That made me laugh really hard. He laughed really hard, and I could tell that he could understand why it was funny. I think he has a really good sense of humor, and if he would not try so hard to make people laugh and just let it flow more naturally all the time, he would be even funnier. He tries really hard sometimes and repeats jokes or stories or weird actions or other things that were funny once but cease to be funny after being repeated too many times. Repetition ruins humor. Usually. Maybe that's why I didn't think Jim Carrey was funny after he was basically the same stupid character no matter what movie he was in, and he always tried way too hard instead of being naturally funny. Like Jimmy Fallon. Naturally funny, and it works for him.

Pretend you like it when I am thoughtful and analytical, at least for the next paragraph or so... 

Whenever we try to force our natures to be one way or another, it never really works. For example, I keep trying to stay at home and not bother other people while I am having problems with MS. I don't want to feel like I am a burden to other people by complaining or asking for help or drawing any attention to the fact that I have a severely diminished capacity to do anything, so I just read and lie on my couch all day, hoping Sadie will be happy even if I don't get up much to play with her. But I am a true extrovert, and not having much contact with friends, neighbors, and really any people over the age of eleven means I am not replenishing my energy source. (Because as much as I really do love my kids, they suck all my energy out instead of giving me more.) I know what I need to do to remedy this situation, but I have to actually make an effort to call people instead of texting, invite people to come over to my house even if it is messy or I am still in pajamas for the third day in a row, and plan fun things anytime I have the energy to do them. I still don't want to complain to people, but by avoiding contact with others, I am really trying to force myself to be a different person, a boring and not funny grumpy person. Just ask my kids about the grumpy part. Kids don't lie. Unless they stole all your chocolate. 

Are there things that you try to force yourself to be? Not things you have to force yourself to do, like exercise or doing the dishes, but trying to change (by eliminating or exaggerating) your nature or your personality traits? Has it ever worked for you? I am not talking about getting rid of bad habits but changing something intrinsic about you.

Okay, that was enough serious talk. 

I needed some new contact cases. I know I'm supposed to change them about once a month, so I thought it would be a good idea to get a pack of one hundred because it ends up saving me about $50. Well, Sadie also thought it was a great idea when she found the box. I found her closing the lids on each case, one by one. She probably had twenty of them out before I found her and took them away. She yelled, "I want dat tontat tases! I need to fits dem!" Preston and Carter have each tried to take a case, and they were each disappointed (read: really upset) that I wouldn't let them have one. "But you have one hundred! Why can't I just have one?" they both said to me at separate times. They don't wear contacts, so I have no idea what they wanted a case for. Why are all my kids suddenly interested in contact cases just because we have one hundred of them? Also, I realized that I don't have a good spot to put such a big box. I should have thought of all these things before buying it. I didn't realize there would be so much drama associated with buying my ten year supply of contact cases. 

I don't know how she knows this, but when I gave Sadie a sunflower seed butter and blackberry jam sandwich yesterday, she said, "It's peanut butter?" I told her what it really was. She replied, "It's wike peanut butter but it's different? It's sunfower butter?" Where would she have ever seen peanut butter?

Sadie just said a prayer completely by herself. "Heaveny Fodder, we tank dee for dis day and for my food. I wuv my mommy and my montee and my daddy. Amen." I'm glad she loves me. And her monkey.

How many hours does it have to snow before the weather forecast changes to 100% chance of snow?

There are small tracks in the snow. I have no idea what kind of animal it could be. They are about an inch and a half long and somewhat narrow. The tracks are about three or four inches apart. Enlighten me, if you have any ideas. Also, I can't tell if there is a dead animal in the road in front of my house or if it is just a big chunk of really dirty snow. I hope it's the snow.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Nobody Wants Mommy

Preston came in my room this morning. "Why am I the only one awake?" I looked at the clock. It was 7:47. Their ride comes at 8:00. Somehow, all three of the kids were ready in time, minus brushing their teeth. 

I found Sadie lying on top of a pillow last night, with another pillow on her belly. "What are you doing, Sadie?" She replied, "I'm being a sandwich." She calmly stayed like that for a long time.

Sadie was noisy and naughty at church. She finally calmed down once someone gave her a book to look at. She kept going back to exchange her book for a new one. At the end, when it was time for prayer, the kind person told her to go back to her mom. The whole time during the prayer, Sadie kept yelling, "I don't want to go back to my mommy! I don't want my mommy!"

I'm so glad that I got my boys new pants that were nicer and more expensive than their previous school pants. Especially because Preston accidentally wrote on them today, the first day he wore them. With a marker. 

Sadie spends hours every day hiding under blankets. She still seems surprised when we find her, and she started her hiding career months ago. She also thinks it's fun when I hide with her, even when nobody else is home. "Wet's hide, Mommy." Or "Where's Sadie? Where did Sadie go?" Or "I'm gonna find your toes, Mommy! Your toes are hiding. Peekaboo, toes." Or "Daddy tan't find us! We're hiding!" She says these things with a joyous gleam in her eyes. 

Preston got an amazon gift card for his birthday a few months ago. He has spent hours trying to find the perfect Minnie Mouse toy for his little cousin, but he never made a decision. I was proud of him for thinking of someone else. Now, he wants to spend all of it on Pokemon cards. 

We had Mexican food for dinner. Bill and I looked over at Sadie to see that she was happily dipping a pacifier into her salsa and sucking on the pacifier. She ate the whole bowl of salsa this way. We don't know where the pacifier came from. Also, our salsa is not mild.