The Sandwich Snitch

In case you have ever wondered what kids dream about, I have the answer!
Matthew and I have speculated when we hear Sophia crying in the middle of the night what she could possibly be upset about. She doesn't watch scary movies or shows (though for awhile she was afraid of "Swiper," the masked fox on Dora). Good grief! We don't even let her watch commercials during football... what in the world could she be crying about? Maybe we shouldn't have let her watch football... maybe she's dreaming of her friends throwing balls at her when she can't catch, running after her when she can't run because her shoes are on the wrong feet or something equally horrible and scary.
Maybe we've scarred her by not providing a night light in her room. Or perhaps she's crying because she can't find her blankie... it's lost in the sheets.
Well, this morning I decided to go in and ask Sophia why she was crying.
"Mommaaaa!" she sobbed, pointing toward MattMatt sleeping in his crib. "Matt-Matt took my sandwich!"

Literal-isms

Kids are so literal. Really, there must be something wonderful about being that simple!

Sophia knows that her daddy goes to work to "make-a money" and I just know that she envisions Daddy sitting there, painstakingly coloring and cutting out dollar bills. No wonder he's tired at the end of the day!
Another literal-ism that Sophia has taken up is the rule about screaming. No screaming in the house. When she does she finds herself in timeout like lightning. Yes, she knows screaming is for outside.
So, we were walking out the front door, and all of a sudden "AAAhhhh-EEEEEE!!!" I jump a few inches and drop my keys. "WHAT happened, Sophia?" I gasped. "I scream outside," she informs me very matter-of-factly. I told her that that was a good one and that she doesn't need to do it anymore as my neighbor's front door opens a crack.
That's my silly Sophia!

Snowday and Snippets

I giggled and danced like a school-kid who just found out school had been canceled. Weatherman 0: God 1. So much for rain... there was actually SNOW on the ground and coming down hard when I looked out the window at 6am this morning. And it's still piling up at noon!
A perfect day to stay in and have hot chocolate, tomato soup, grilled cheese, and muffins.
I gave Sophia a haircut this morning... despite Matthew's hesitation about my competence in that department. No special scissors, no bowl on the head, and only a few hairs I missed. I'm pretty pleased with the results.




Matt-Matt began saying uh-oh yesterday. Just wandering along the edge of the couch talking to himself: "uhh. uhhh. oh. oh. uh-oh. uh-oh." Signs of what's to come.
In the cute department... Sophia has been getting cabin fever lately and has taken to dashing from the front door to the back door yelling "Look at all the bubbles!" and enjoying hundreds of invisible bubbles floating around my living room. Front door. Back door. Front door.... you get the idea. Well yesterday she yelled "Momma. Look my hair is running!" as her hair flew out behind her.
So that's all for now. I need some hot cocoa...

It's Good To be Two (Part 1. The A.M.)

Remember when they woke you up with cries?
Now she wakes me up with ridiculously bright eyes...
It's time for "Playtime! Playtime!" all day long.
"Dance with me Mommy. I like this song!"
"You sit there. Drink your tea."
"You want sugar? PLAY with me!"
Then we go "swimming" on the rug.
"I love you, Mommy. I want a hug!"
Read Curious George for the twenty-fifth time.
"Sophia, please... let's try Madeline."
Max and Ruby she will devour.
Sadly it only lasts one half-hour...
Then its drums with my pans;
About five minutes is all I can stand.
"Pee-pee comin!" Run! Run! Run!
Dora panties sure are fun.
While MattMatt naps it's time for "school":
Letters, colors and crafts are COOL!
Then it's lunch till the timer goes ding.
Naptime is bliss. Definitely Mommy's thing.

To be continued...

A Simpler Time? Really?

So this one is about me. Not my exciting, ridiculously cute kids. Sometimes we all need a break.

I had to take a walk in the rain yesterday just to escape the walls of our house and the whining, crying and constant "Mamaaaa." I thought about how much I had to do: laundry, dinner, shopping, cleaning, baths... the usual. I began to think of my grandma who is the sweetest, strong, most religious woman I know. She raised five kids amidst numerous moves and frequent uncertainty. My dad occasionally brings up with a chuckle the day that my grandma walked out. She packed a suitcase and said she had had enough. (I don't think my grandma will be reading this blog. I hope not, because she got very angry and upset the one time my dad brought it up.) She ended up staying away just for the night.
I contemplated that it was good to know that even my saintly grandma sometimes had a hard time. It seems like most moms (including myself) try and project this "everything is perfect" aura about their household and motherly responsibilities. In reality, some days find me much less charitable and more cranky than others.
On the other hand, I also thought about how much more I had to be thankful for... in contrast to my grandmother and her responsibilities as a young mother. Dishwashers, washing machines, dryers, crockpots, microwaves, frozen pizza... the list goes on and on. She had to deal with gardening, washing diapers and clothes by hand, nasty weather when you really needed to hang out your laundry, making meals truly from scratch are just a few things I envision. So was it really a simpler time for a housewife?
I walked back into my house a bit wet, but with better perspective. Now, if I can just remember to think about this when the laundry is piled on the floor of my dirty kitchen and the kids are crying, I'll be golden!

My Little Ghosty

Gone are the days of Dead or Alive and Halo. Not just because of the content around the kids (Sophia pulls enough moves on Matthew Jr without them) but I just don't need them anymore. I'm working my catlike reflexes in other ways.

For instance... when I swept the floor the other day. Matthew has a fascination with brooms and the stuff that they magically gather. Every pile of dirt is a like a goldmine just begging to be sifted by his little hands. I have to be very quick about not only sweeping, but also in pulling the pile with me.

The whole situation reminded me of PacMan. Remember those pesky ghosties that chase PacMan? Even when you temporarily elude them, they just keep trying to get you. That's what Baby Matthew reminded me of: a ghosty chasing my little piles of dirt, following me and my broom all over the house. And we all knows what eventually happens to PacMan (at least when I played). The ghosties get what they want.

Yes...he'll just keep getting faster.... and someday he'll sink his little hands into my beautiful pile of dirt. I've got to keep working on my reflex time. Hmmm... maybe I do need to start playing video games again.

Sprinkles of Happy

Sophia has been very interested in how things work and what I'm doing lately. "Whatcha doin' Mama?" is what she asks whenever I'm not down on the floor, playing. Thankfully, I have been spared the "Why?" litany so far. I know. It's only a matter of time.

So today, to spare her the breath of asking, I began to explain to her what I was doing as I ironed Matthew's shirts. "This is an iron. It's hot. Yes, there is steam. Here, touch where I put the iron. It's hot. Mommy is getting the wrinkles out of Daddy's shirt with the hot iron. See the wrinkle? No more wrinkles. Mommy ironed it out." Once I finished my monologue, she was quiet awhile... just watching. Then she says. "Sprinkles all gone." She loves cookies and sprinkles and I racked my brain for about 15 seconds, wondering if I had rambled about sprinkles earlier or where she got this idea that we ran out. Then it hits me. "Oooh! You mean wrinkles! Yes. It sounds like sprinkles, honey. WRinkles are all gone!"