Jonathan: “Mom, remember when you used to have goals?”
Jonathan, seeing a commercial for a product promising to fix puffy eyes, ponders, “How can you have puffy eyes? I thought eyes were always puffy.”
“They mean under your eyes,” I explained.
“Oh, you mean like yours!”
Should have seen that one coming…
Christmas music! Christmas cookies! Christmas decorations! Paul cries every time he sees the tree because he knows he can’t touch it. He sits down next to an ornament of interest, puts his head down on the floor, and cries. Oh, it’s soooo hard being good!
Jonathan, chasing his sisters around with a plastic gun: “Faith! Let’s play hunter!”
Faith, barely hiding her disdain for the possibility of getting hurt: “Okay, but let’s pretend I’m the hunter.”
Jonathan, pelting her with a fuzzy pom-pom: “No. It’s my gun!”
Faith, “Okay, well then lets pretend you’re not a very GOOD hunter.”
Faith, observing Jonathan teaching Kya to read: “Oh Mom, that makes me sad. They’re just growing up so fast!”
Jonathan: “Mommy, I’m glad I get to be a man because we get to protect our family and take care of the girls.”
Mommy: “That’s a neat thing, isn’t it?”
Jonathan: “Yeah, and the girls have to do everything else.”
J: “Like cook and clean and…” Mommy silently ponders how she could possibly have raised a male chauvinist while Faith and Kya stare at each other until Kya says, “Faith, let’s be a daddy too!”
A miracle will have occurred if the following things survive Paul’s toddlerhood: the dishwasher (he likes to sit in it), the kitten, Micah’s hair, Micah’s eyes, the top of any sippy, the springs in his crib, the restraint in his highchair, the knees of any pair of his jeans, board books that claim to be toddler-proof (is that a challenge?), the computer keyboard, the kids’ crayons…and Paul himself!
Kya’s compliments to the chef: “Mom, it’s beautiful yummy!”
Kya is running back and forth across the living room shouting, “NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!” proving once again how effective one can be if she has a singular objective.
Kya wants to name our gray kitten “Rainbow.”
Mommy: “Today we are going to make African bead necklaces!”
Jonathan: “What are they made out of, paper?”
Six wide eyes stare at Mommy, searching for clues as to the veracity of the statement. Cautiously, Jonathan scoffs, “We’re not going to use Africans!”
With a condescending sigh, Faith adds, ” Besides, it would only take one.”
Kya, 3, was entertaining the babies. Suddenly I heard Paul crying and saw Kya dashing between the bedroom and the bathroom. She stopped at their door, did a little jig, and said in a distressed voice, “But Pawie, I have ‘a go potty!” She headed for the bathroom but when he started to cry again, she did her little pee-pee dance back to his door, “I sorry Pawie, but I DO have ‘a go POTTY!” Sometimes showbiz is brutal.
An unfortunate inability to pronounce S’s resulted in the quote of the day from Jonathan, who reported that while walking with Nana they found a “loose whore” and that they had gone door-to-door to find out who’s whore it was, but no one knew. One nice man offered to call the police because “the poor whore was just out in the woods alone!” Thankfully, Faith yelled “It was a HORSE!” or we’d be calling Nana.
Jonathan came home from VBS this week with a craft he made for me. On a foam book, right under a Jesus Loves Me sticker, he had drawn a picture of me–naked. There I was in all my stick-figure glory, complete with crazy hair, big grin, and two giant, lopsided breasts. “Those are for feeding the babies!” Jonathan said happily, before trotting off to play outside.
You’re welcome, VBS volunteers. Glad to be a part of making your day.