Question of the Day: Easter Edition

"How does the Easter Bunny get into our house to fill our baskets?"

Um... Magic?

A Clean House is Like Camelot

A clean house is like Camelot.

It exists for one, brief, shining moment then it's gone.

I guess my house is never really white-glove-test clean, but I do like it to be tidy so you actually walk on the floors and see the table top. Crazy, I know.

Right now, the girls are in preschool three days a week, for a few hours. It's enough time for me to go to the grocery, clean up the house a little and even take a breath or two. It's the one time I can get into the girls' room, pick up all the toys and rocks, throw random trash away and even, gasp, vacuum. One day, I sent a picture of the clean room to my husband because I was so proud. And also because I knew it wouldn't last the day.

I cleaned up our front room (which should technically be a formal living room but we don't have furniture for it yet) which had been strewn with fake coins, pieces of paper and beaded necklaces in no certain pattern. When they got home, they took the bins I'd out everything in and literally dumped them back on the floor. For no good reason, as far as I can tell.

I don't want to interfere with their creative play and I know kids need room to play and explore. I just wish it didn't involve  quite so many small pieces spread all over the house.

Does Anyone Else Have the Urge...

  Sometimes when the girls aruge, it devolves into shouts of  "Yes!" "No!" "Yes!" "No!"

When this happens, I have an irrisistable urge to interject, "Wabbit Season! Duck Season!"

It is only me?

Making It Up As You Go Along

  I was walking out of the mall after a playdate with my friend and her 16-month-old boy. My girls were constantly asking, "What's that?" and my friend was amazed that I kept coming up with answers. I told her that at some point, as a parent, you just get really good at making stuff up. 

The real challenge is to give them the needed information in language they understand. One day, J asked me how babies are born. I thought for a second and said, "Doctors help the babies get out of their mommies' tummies." She thought for a second and went on her way. (I have no idea what I'll say when she asks me how the babies get in their to start with.)

The thing I try to remember (especially if I'm grumpy and the questions just will not stop) is that I have 30+ years of experience and learning and the girls have only four or five. Things that are clear to me are concepts they haven't encountered yet. Like when we were leaving the mall. I know what a loading dock is, but the girls have never really thought about how the stuff we buy gets into the stores. Or how people get to the top of Thanksgiving Day parade floats when there are no visible stairs. Or how the flapper in the toilet works.

Sometimes, I just get stumped. I'll know the answer but will have no way to tell them in a way they'll understand. So I just wing it. Yesterday, the girls asked me how water is made. The best I could come up with was "You take two hydrogen atoms and add them to an oxygen atom." 

And, somehow, they accepted it. I'm sure they'll ask me what an atom is soon. Is there a babelfish for "science to preschooler"?

The Sun is Warming Up?!

E has been on a Megamind kick lately. I don't mind too much as it's a change from watching Princess Cadance and Shining Armor's big wedding over and over.

However, it's starting to get to me. I can almost quote it verbatim. I may need help.

Is there a support group I can join? Maybe I should make one.

Someone Has to Cry

One of the biggest things I learned about having two kids so close in age is this: sometimes someone has to cry.

I think the more technical parenting methodology name is "prioritizing", but when your kids are too young to really understand why you're doing what your doing, it means someone is going to cry. And sometimes, that person is you.

What I mean is quickly taking care of the easiest problem first then doing everything else. For example, imagine you've come back from playing somewhere and all three of you are hungry. The old kid's whiny, the baby is fussing and your head is about to explode. Take a few minutes and get food ready for the older kid first, put her in the highchair and let her feed herself. That way you can sit down and feed the baby, and maybe snack on some finger food yourself. In a little while everyone will be happy and calm, all 30 seconds of it, will be restored.

It's hard to hear your kid cry and you will feel like a horrible parent the first few times it happens. But, at least for me, this method works even now. 

Although I will admit there are times when I'm the one who has to cry. But, chocolate and a hot bath usually fixes that.

Random Thought of the Day

Think it's hard to open a twist door knob after you've put on lotion? Try opening a milk sippy with one of those "leak locks".

It's Amazing What Kids Absorb

  For some reason, the girls have been on a big Muppets kick lately. This suits me just fine as I like watching them, too and tthere are times when I just can't watch another episode of  Dora the Explorer. Sometimes it's a little difficult to explain some of the humor and gags to my preschoolers, like why it's okay for Miss Piggy to fight and Waldorf and Statler to heckle from the balcony. However, it's totally worth it to hear them seriously intone, "Piiiiigs iiiiinnnnn Spaaaaaaace!" And they love the "Mahna Mahna" song from the first season.

I have a few of those 3-episode compliation DVDs, including the Halloween-ish one with Alice Cooper, Vincent Price and Marty Feldman. I remember watching the Alice Cooper episode when I was a kid and being confused as to why a guy would be called "Alice".  I now appreciate what my mom must have gone through as I have to explain the makeup and soul-selling and why he looks like he's scary but he's really a good guy.

I didn't realize they'd been absorbing other parts of the episode as well.

The four of us were in the car one morning and the girls started singing together in the back.  A and I listened for a minute then A said, "Are they singing 'School's Out'?"

Yes. Yes, indeed, they were.

Tomorrow Will Be Better

  Last night was rough. Like, I-wanted-to-beat-my-head-into-a-wall rough.

J had been pushing my buttons all day. E has been going through a phase where she wants to be picked up all the time. I was mentally and physically exhausted. A had gone to bed early, trying to fend off a cold. 

We finally reached the golden hour of bedtime. I told the girls it was time to go upstairs. E went willingly, J wanted me to carry herup the stairs. "I'm too tired to walk," she whined. (Both girls have been saying "I'm too tired to do XYZ" and then have miraculously found the energy to play.) I wasn't having any of it. I told her she had to walk up on her own feet.

Cue the hissy fit. A screaming, red-faced, tear-filled hissy fit.

I went upstairs to help E get ready for bed. I'd go back downstairs to check on J. I'd stand with my arms crossed and glare. She'd stop crying, stay where she was and glare back. It had transformed into a power play and there was no way in hell I was going to lose.

I wanted to scream and yell. I wanted slam a door 100 times to get all my frustration out. I wanted to cry. I'm proud to say I did none of these things. I kept my sh*t together and stayed outwardly calm.

Since she calmed down when she could see me, I went back into the next room and sat down to read a book. I ignored her, but let her see me so she could know I was wasn't leaving her all by herself. After a few minutes, she calmed down, came over to me and I gave her a huge hug and some kisses.  After a big blowup like this, I always want to let the girls know that I may get mad at them, but I will still always love them.

She quietly and calmly walked upstairs to her room with me. I tucked her in, gave her a hug and kiss and whispered, "Tomorrow will be better."

We both got a good night's sleep and I went for a little run this morning with some guilty pleasure pop music. I'm still a bit worn out but I think it will be a better day.

Keep your fingers crossed.

 A few years ago, we went on a family trip to Cabo San Lucas Mexico. My side of the family was there: my brother and his wife and kids, and my dad and stepmom. I wasn't sure how much food and snacks we would be able to bring with all the various customs rules and laws. My sister-in-law, who had been there before with her kids, brought enough food to share with us.

She gave us a bunch of snacks for the airplane ride home, which was sanity saving. We had some left over when we got off the plane and had to go through Customs. I didn't want to get caught lying to the officials, so when he asked if we had any food with us, I told him the truth.

"I think we have some animal crackers and Pirate Booty."

The Customs Agent looked at me in disbelief. I'm sure he was thinking I was a crazy. At first I seemed like a responsible mother and wife and all of a sudden I admitted to smuggling.

My husband quickly clarified I was talking about a cheesy puffed corn snack not gold and jewels. The Customs Agent was visibly relieved. We all got a good laugh out of it.

Moral of the story: Be careful what you say when you cross the border. 

The First Rule...

  Don't get me wrong, my girls are "girly girls". They like sparkly shoes, shiny stickers, butterflies, painted toenails and bubble baths. They also love robots, dinosaurs and running around like crazy. It's a great combination, but occasionally they'll do things that make me shake my head.

A while ago, the girls were playing in another room. I couldn't see them but I could hear them. I swear, I heard the following from J:

"Come on, E, hit me. No, that's not hitting. Come on, *hit* me."

I waited. 

There wasn't any crying or other crazy noise, so I just let it go and laughed to myself.

Did I have a toddler Fight Club on my hands? I knew I couldn't ask because... well, we all know what the first rule of Fight Club is. 

If Nothing Else in This Life...

...I will teach my children to look under furniture and blankets when searching for something.