Category Archives: Out of the mouths of babes….

The Rewards of Patience


Hi Everyone!

I hope you had a great weekend! 

Thursday night, I had to work extraordinarily late – until 10:15 at night.  Because Kayla is attending day camp here where I work, and Mark was out of town that night, she got to stay at the office with me, and I have to say that she waited about as patiently as you could ask a nine-year old to do.  She played lawyer for a while, interrogating imaginary people  on a play phone, read a little bit, drew pictures and kept herself occupied for five hours so I could concentrate on my e-filing. 

I was so proud of her, and so grateful for her patience that I decided to schedule Saturday morning to take her to get her hair done and to get a manicure and pedicure.  I explained to her Friday night what we were doing Saturday and why, and she turned to me with her eyes wide and asked, “All that for one patience?”  Visions of shelling out her entire college savings to her as rewards for such things as waiting two or three minutes before interrupting Mark and I dancing in my head, I told her quickly not to get used to it!  She thought that was funny.

Saturday morning, she popped out of her room at 7:00 fully dressed announcing,” I’m ready to go be made beautiful!”  She was a little early, but by 8:30, we headed out to the salon as we had to be there at 9.  I had planned about an hour and 15 minutes for the hair and scheduled the nail appointment accordingly, planning that Kayla would ask for her hair to be blown straight.  She has never  once  walked into a salon and asked for her hair to be more curly – until Saturday.  The lady cutting her hair had naturally curly hair in tight ringlets cascading down her back, and that was the look that Kayla wanted.  (Kayla told the stylist that she had always wanted curly hair.  I nearly fell out of my chair laughing!)   They managed to come up with a way to do it, but it took a little longer than we expected. 

Towards the end, I got a chance to take some pictures of Kayla while she was “on the chair.” 

I think I like it!

 

Uh Oh! She's taking my picture....

 

Maybe if I ignore her she will stop it!

Oh well, I'll have a good time anyhow even if she is taking my picture!

The pictures alone were worth the entire expedition, but we also got our nails done, and I got a real kick watching her explore the mysteries of the Spa Massage Chair she was sitting in!

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Peanut Butter in the Refrigerator and other matters


Good morning everyone!  I hope you had a good day yesterday!

  • Peanut Butter in the Refrigerator

    From Print Shop Professional 2.0

Mark and I were getting dressed today in our bedroom, when our daughter came pounding on the door to demand, “Who put the peanut butter in the refrigerator?”  (We don’t normally do that; the only peanut butter I have ever refrigerated is the natural kind that separates, but this was plain old Jif.)  There was, of course, only one answer.  I told her through the door that I must have done it when I was having a senior moment yesterday after making her PB&J sandwich as part of lunch for day camp.  There was a second of silence, a flat “oh,” and then the subject was dropped.

  • Mandy and the Treadmill

Mandy’s fascination with the Treadmill continues.  As soon as she heard the “beep” that means it is being turned on, she sailed across the room to sit down and stare at it with her head hanging so low it almost touched the belt.  We are very curious as to why this one object fascinates her so much.

Mandy and Darwin Mesmerized by the Treadmill

Mandy’s reactions to things take an extra effort for us to figure out, because she is a very unusual dog.  Not only are her looks extraordinary, but we adopted her from the shelter when she was two, and the shelter’s information on her stated that she was found digging in the dumpster in McDonald’s, so unlike the other two dogs, we have absolutely no information on where Mandy was and what conditions she was living in until she was sent to the shelter. 

We could tell the first Christmas we had her that she had never really seen a Christmas in a house before, so we tend to think that maybe she spent all of her life as a stray, but at the same time things come up, like the treadmill, that make us wonder.  I can tell you at least that the dumpster diving instinct survived to morph into an instinct to root around on cabinets, in trash cans, and anywhere else food might possible be obtained!

  • Turtles in the Bed (Not!)

    Turtle, 2008

 Driving to work/day camp today, Kayla told me that she wished she had a turtle.  I said, “Kayla, you have three dogs!!!!”  She told me she knew that, but she still wished she had a turtle.  I told her, “No,” and she asked why, so first I repeated the obvious, “Kayla, you have three dogs!!!!!” and then listed other reasons:  1) Dad has said that nothing else living, even a goldfish, is coming in the house as a pet, 2) I would be the one who ended up taking care of the turtle, and I only like turtles that were outside my house, and 3) she only wanted a turtle because she had a friend who had one.  We digressed into a discussion of whether said friend had a turtle or not, but then she brought us back to the subject, saying, “I’ve tried asking for even a goldfish and everything, but the answer’s always no.”  I told her I was sorry she didn’t like the dogs, but Dad and I did, and three dogs was enough.  She told me she did like our dogs but that “a turtle is the only pet I could have that could stay in bed with me.”  (9-year-old logic – go figure!!!!!)  I still haven’t figured out that comment yet, but it was the wrong thing to say – the idea of a turtle was firmly and permanently nixed after that point.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Rash Promises and Blaky Wakey!


Hi Everyone!

I’m a little bit late today, I know, but my bronchitis is trying to decide whether to come back or not, so it took  me a little longer than usual to get ready for work, which means my morning blogging time was interrupted.  I am now using my (late) lunch hour to accomplish the same thing.  For those of you who are worried about how Mandy did without someone sitting by her, at least she ate!  She had the chance to get entertained by the treadmill first, so that relaxed her a little bit first.

Mandy, Fascinated by the Treadmill

  • Rash Promises

Have you ever made a rash promise to your child?  One that just popped out before you really thought about it?  Well I have, and it is one that I’m going to get to have almost a whole year to think about! 

Grace and Poise I Shan't Have Come Next May!

Up until the day of her recital, Kayla was uncertain about whether she wanted to continue dance next year, and I couldn’t tell if she wanted to stop because she didn’t like dancing, or what was going on.  On recital day, I could tell that she did like to dance, so I asked her about continuing.  At first she wasn’t sure, but then the fatal words slipped out of my mouth – every recital, those parents who want to participate in a parents’ number at the recital get to do so  – “if you will sign back up for dance, I will do the parents’ number next year.”  She told me she wanted to think about it, but as we were walking out of the house for the second recital, she turned around to me and said, “Deal!”  I’m not sure what I was thinking, since I have two left feet, unless I am being led by my husband, and my sense of rhythm is only suitable for choral singing (not to mention that I am extremely out of shape, not helped by the bronchitis)  but I said the words, “I promise,” so I will live by them.  Mark finds it all highly amusing, and even my mother who was up for the recital thought it was a little funny too.

Please note that I will not be informing anyone in advance of the recital date, besides grandparents, next year;  however, I will tell you if I turn out to be the first parent in her dance studio’s history to be fired from the parent dance team!   

  • Blaky Wakey

As I mentioned yesterday, Kayla and I are now driving to work together, and while I did not have to resign control of the radio to the Disney Channel yesterday, this morning it was on before we left the driveway.  As we were driving, the DJ for the hour came on and announced something to the effect that we were listening to the “Blaky Wakey” show.  Kayla looked at me and said, “You’ve got to be kidding!  I’m just not in a Blaky Wakey mood this morning!”  I had to agree with her, but I also notice that the channel did not get changed, either. 

Have a great rest of the day everyone!

Nancy

Blast from the Past: 2008: Stories, Spell Check and Scorpions!


Good morning everyone!

This morning I thought I would share some stories I wrote down in some letters back in 2008, when Kayla was 6 and in kindergarten.

From April 2008:

One morning, Kayla burst out into tears in the bathroom. Mark caught that call. When he went in to check, she told him that she was crying because she had brushed her hair but it didn’t look like she had brushed it at all! (Item: the hair looked fine.)

Two Sundays ago, she and I were awake and watching TV in my bedroom because Mark was asleep on the couch and I was trying hard to keep everyone (child and dogs) quiet in my room so that he could get a full nap in. I had to go into the other room to get something, and when I came back, Kayla was just walking away from my bathroom sink. I asked her what she was doing, and she said brightly, “I was going to get into your makeup, but then I decided that I didn’t want to get into trouble!”

From April 2008:

I did the funniest thing on spell check on one of my briefs the other week. I had to use the name “Schnitzler” a lot in the brief.  Schnitzler was one of those words that, to save my soul, I could not type correctly the first time, so rather than re-type it over and over, I used “SS” as an abbreviation, with the thought that when it was finished, I would use “find and replace” to replace the “SS” with Schnitzler.  FN.  It worked like a charm, except that I got slap-happy pushing buttons and ended up telling the computer to change every “ss” to Schnitzler, which left me with lots of words like “Congreschnitzler” (Congress), “ischnitzlerue” (issue) and “paschnitzler” (pass.) Spell check almost had a nervous breakdown before it was over with!

From June 2008:

The past week has been a week of weird wildlife encounters. Last Thursday, I looked out of the window after Mark and Kayla left, and saw a huge turtle on the side of the road – its shell had a diameter of at least 16 inches. I couldn’t help it; I took a picture of it.

Turtle, 2008

Yesterday, which was Wednesday, I started my day being stung by, of all things, a scorpion! Mandy, who has decided that one of her missions in life is to be my little alarm clock, waking me up by 5:20 whether I need it or not, harassed and harangued me until I got up, fed her and the other two dogs then went out into the garage like I normally do to get my Diet Coke. When I walked back in, something bit/stung my toe, and it really hurt! I couldn’t see what it was but jumped around and started screaming , which woke Mark up in a flash (Kayla slept through it) and brought him into the den to check on me. We sat down and looked at my foot, but unlike a bee sting, we couldn’t see anything. Mark announced that it must have been an ant that bit me, and went back to bed. I walked back over to the area where I had been stung, turned on the light and saw a brown form on the brown wooden floor that looked like a scorpion. I looked again, because I thought maybe it was just a leaf that the dogs had drug in from outside, and realized that it really was a scorpion.

 So next I did what any reasonable woman with a husband at home would do – I went back into the bedroom and got Mark! He looked at it, and not only agreed that it was a scorpion but also realized that it wasn’t dead yet, so he killed it for me. Never having been stung by a scorpion before, I was not at all certain what I should do, so I went and looked it up on the Internet. The information I found said that most species of scorpions in the United States are not poisonous, except for one species in Arizona. However, even so, you can have a reaction to the bite of one if you are allergic, and some of the symptoms of that type of reaction are an elevated heart rate and anxiety.

That symptom list was not helpful;  I already had an elevated heartbeat and anxiety because I had just been stung by a scorpion! It all turned out okay, although it will be a very long time before I walk anywhere in the house without my slippers on.

And on that unusual note, I will bid everyone good day!  Have a great weekend!

Nancy

FN.  To prevent any unpleasantness, the name “Schnitzler” is  changed from the actual name, but you get the idea.

The Gulf Coast Beaches: Beautiful and Ready for Visitors!


Good morning everyone! 

We recently had the chance to spend a weekend in Perdido, one of the beach towns that run along the Gulf of Mexico from Orange Beach, Alabama through Pensacola, Florida and on through Panama City, Florida. 

Mark letting me take a picture of him while driving

Kayla in the car
We left for the beach Friday after work, having left the dogs at their kennel/day care known as Cutie Patootie Dog Boutique.  It is, quite frankly, the only kennel the dogs have ever enjoyed (as opposed to endured), although they are always glad to come home.  I think it’s because they get to play with the other dogs that are there, which means Tyra gets a break from everyone, Darwin can play to his heart’s content, and Mandy only has to play with someone when she feels like. 
 
It took us about 3 hours to get to the condo we were staying at (I rented it from an acquaintance).  The condo was well-appointed and comfortable.  Kayla was particularly fascinated with the narrow metal spiral staircase that led up to the loft.
 

Kayla on the spiral staircase

 She wanted (or at least pretended like she wanted) to try jumping off the top step, but both Mark and I quickly nixed that idea. 

Perdido is only 8 miles from Orange Beach and Gulf Shores to the west, and only about 15 miles from the heart of Pensacola, although from where we stayed it was only 8 miles to the Naval Aviation Museum, which is high upon our list of things we want to do when we go back. 

Some of you may remember from last spring and summer that this area was affected by the BP oil spill.  If fear of oil or tar balls on the beaches along the Gulf is keeping you away, let me show you what the beach we were playing at (one of the Perdido State Park beaches in Florida) looked like:

View of Perdido State Park Beach

Here’s another view:

Headed out to set up camp

 This view shows our own little “beach camp” that we staked out for the day:

Our Beach "Camp"

Here’s a view from the beach towards the water.  The dark stuff is dried sea weed.

View toward the water

Interestingly enough, we did see some BP personnel drive by behind us while we were there.  There were about eight people with two trucks between them, each with a mounted trash can on the back.  They sat in the truck for about 20 minutes, then eventually two of them sauntered down to the waterfront, walked around for a few minutes, then walked back.  I couldn’t help but think that what BP really needs to be doing at this point is figuring out how to get the tons and tons of oil that settled onto the Gulf of Mexico seabed cleaned up instead of patrolling beaches, but BP didn’t ask my opinion, either. 

Mark and Kayla played with the football while I watched, which is always fun to see.  Kayla can throw and catch, but it takes her a little while to warm up and stop being afraid of the ball before she catches it.  Here are some pictures of her while playing football with Mark:

A precarious catch!

 

Deciding whether to throw or kick

Getting ready!

Of course, the most obvious reason you go to the beach is to play in the water. Mark and Kayla played longer than I did, but I went in a couple of times too.  The water was cold, but not frigid.  What’s the difference?  Cold is where you go in and after a while it doesn’t bother you too badly; frigid is when you go in the water and everything just turns numb.  Frigid is usually experienced only by parents who have children, who seem to be immune from any water temperature from cold to frigid and who assure them, “Really, it’s not too bad!” or Canadians, who seem to be used to it, or Californians, because the water almost always seems to be frigid off the coast of California unless it is an El Nino year (I lived in the San Diego area when I was a child).  I knew how much my husband loved my daughter when he spent an hour in the water with her one day with the water temperature at frigid.  Mark does not like cold – at all!

Headed out to play and swim

 

Caught by a wave

 

Trying the Back Stroke

 

Hugging Daddy

 

Getting ready for the next wave!

We got there about 11, and it was almost 3 when we left.  Even though Kayla told us it was “across the law” (she meant “against the law”) to leave, she had reached the point where she was shivering and needed to rest, not to mention her parents!

We had sat down once between the two rounds of playing in the waves, and while we were sitting there, we saw one pelican dive for fish several times, and three dolphin go wandering by, probably investigating the same school of fish the pelican was interested in.  That had all three of us excited! 

Tune in tomorrow when I attempt to explain about Lambert’s and throwed rolls (an experience not to be missed!)  Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

A Triple A Day: All of the Above and Art Work


Good morning everyone! 

  • All of the Above

Kayla’s grades from the week before come home in a red folder every Monday.  Yesterday, she came home with one of the few not so good grades that she gets from time to time.  I never get upset at what she makes if she was trying, but I do get frustrated when she earned her “not so good” grade because she chose not to study the study sheet conveniently provided to her at the beginning of the week. 

When I had the temerity to suggest that she should have studied more, Kayla got quite cross with me.  The test was multiple choice, and Kayla snapped out, “Well, she (ie., the teacher) should have explained what ‘all of the above’ means.”  I asked if she had noticed that more than one answer was correct.  She told me yes, so I explained that “all of the above” meant that all of the previous answers in the question were correct.  She said, “Oh.  I kept looking above me trying to figure out what the answer was talking about.”  So, she either gets credit for creative thinking, or creative excuse making.  My vote is for creative excuse making; what’s yours?

  • Art Work

I got caught the other day.  Usually, I wait until the dark of the moon in the dead of night, put on dark camouflage and rubber soled shoes, tiptoe carefully through the den to the kitchen, past the three or four creaking spots on the wooden floor, gingerly place the articles in a plastic garbage bag, ferry them to the outside trashcan while I hold my breath and then breathe a sigh of relief as I re-enter the house unnoticed.

What am I talking about?  The multitude of paper that Kayla brings home from or creates during school, day care, and nap time at home.  It doesn’t take long for a parent of a child in school or pre-school to realize that at least some of that paper must to be disposed of, or you will have to buy a new house with a room solely dedicated to storing paper.  By now, we would need a house the size of the Biltmore estate!  Don’t misunderstand me; I save some of her stuff every year, and take pictures of other items but at some point something has to go! 

Sunday night, however, I got in a hurry and when she wasn’t looking slipped some posters she had pulled out of a coloring book  (they were just posters, folks; she hadn’t colored on them, or done anything to them, just pulled them out of the book) into a garbage bag.  I thought I had them well camouflaged, but didn’t realize they were face up pressing into the side of the plastic where she could see them.  She tried to tell me they were in there; I tried to tell her she was mistaken (yes, I know that was wrong of me, but I was desperate); ultimately she pulled them out of the trash bag to prove to me that I was wrong.  Sigh.  The upshot is I have two posters sitting on my kitchen counter that probably will be there until the year 3000, or at least the next night without a moon! 

Art Work from 2007 That I DID Save!

Have a good day everyone!

Nancy

Thoughts on the Way Home from Pri-Med


Hi Everyone!

Tuesday night, Mark and I decided we both needed to go to Pri-Med as that most elegant of Southern illnesses, the crud, simply refuses to leave us alone even after two (Mark) and one (me) rounds of antibiotics, and it appeared we were headed South towards bronchitis.  Since we went, of course, Kayla had to go too. 

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

We had a rough start to the evening when I discovered that on the day when Kayla knew she had the most homework to get done for the week, she chose not to do a single bit of it at after school care.  Not her best move with two sick parents!  So she was working on long division in the back seat of the car, while I was trying to help her from the front seat while Mark drove.  Long division is not the best subject to work on for homework at any time; she knows how to do it but wants someone to verify that each step is correct as she does it (not exactly equivalent to actual test conditions!) and if you don’t she tends to get frustrated.  Still, we prevailed somehow.

Kayla's Spring School Picture (Age 9)

When we got to Pri-Med, we had to wait for a while, which gave her time to finish the spelling and the long division, and then once we were in the examination room, we reviewed her science notes.  The doctor came in, looked at us, and sent us home after two shots each (Kayla was quite relieved when she realized it was her parents and not she that had to take the shots) and more prescriptions. 

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

It was on the way home that Kayla became thoughtful.  It had started to rain and she had been chattering away in the back seat without my really paying attention (don’t tell me you don’t do that either sometimes as a parent!) when something she said caught my attention.  I asked her to repeat it and she told me that she knew why clouds rained.  I asked her why, and she told me that just like we get full of water and had to go the bathroom, the clouds get full of water and have to go to the bathroom too.  That’s what I thought I had heard her say originally.  It’s not the most elegant analogy but at the same time, I couldn’t really fault her logic, either.  (When I was her age, we lived in San Diego and went to Sea World frequently, where they had a fountain show about water with a song, and the first lines of that song are indelibly etched in my brain for some reason – “The seas yield vapor to the skies, and the skies return it as rain.”  Isn’t that close to the same thing she is talking about?) 

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

Then she chattered away some more before announcing that she was starting to not like barbecue, so she was afraid she was turning into a veterinarian.  We corrected her word choice to vegetarian, which she agreed was what she meant, and Mark explained that just because she didn’t necessarily like the barbecue at school anymore, didn’t mean that she wouldn’t like all barbecue, and that there were lots of other meats besides barbecue.  (I promise, folks, we eat lots of meat at home, and most of the time it is not barbecue.)  She was relieved, because I don’t think she really was ready to “turn into” a vegetarian.  

Breakfast with Cheese Grits

I explained that at the end of the school year, (we have about three weeks left) the cafeteria probably is trying to use up everything it can so there isn’t anything left to spoil over the summer.  This observation did not placate her;  she reared up in outrage and said, “Good Grief!  Why on earth don’t they use up all the cheese grits then!”  I wanted to say it was because she probably had eaten all of the school’s stock already  (last I heard, she gets six helpings of the things when they do have them at school) but I didn’t.  After that she got sleepy, which ended her reflections and let us put a sweet, tired little girl to bed when she got home.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Best and Worst


Hi Everyone!

PHIZ Illustration of Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.  It was the day when my sweet daughter demonstrated her extraordinary love, and the day when my mischievous daughter had all my buttons pushed in about 10 minutes.  With those of you who have kids, isn’t that the way it usually is?

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

Mark had a cold this weekend; colds are harder on him than on most people because of reasons there are no need to go into here.  He still got up and went to church, but couldn’t stay for Sunday School, since he wanted to save enough energy for the Sunday night choir service.  Kayla and I stayed for Sunday School, and then once we got home and had lunch, the solemn ritual of the Sunday afternoon nap began.  (Almost every Sunday, Mark and I take a long nap – I’m embarrassed to say that it is one of the highlights of my weekend!) 

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

 Mark didn’t sleep very long because of his cold, and once he woke up Kayla bebopped out of her room, where she gets to sleep or play quietly as she chooses during nap time.  When I woke up at 3, she came into my bedroom to tell me that I needed to come see Daddy immediately.  When I asked why, she told me that he was freezing cold, even though his temperature seemed normal, and she had already given him two blankets and she didn’t know what else to do for him.  As I headed from the bedroom to the den, she also firmly told me that I needed to give Daddy a kiss.  Then she paused and added, “But you need to do it somewhere where it won’t hurt him.”  (One of Mark’s side effects from running a temperature is extreme pain.)  Now, how much more sweet and loving can a daughter get?  Not much!

Kayla Playing Around At Halloween

Then we came to the 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. time slot, where she squirmed, talked, played school and just generally made those noises kids can make that hit a nerve somewhere at the base of your spine and shiver on up to your brain to the “guaranteed to irritate” button.  Towards the end of this time,  we were driving Mark’s mom to take her to the concert with us, and Kayla insisted on being the center of attention.  I was close to my last shred of patience when we pulled up to the church.  (To other parents:  doesn’t that always leave you in the proper mood for worship?   It would be interesting to see videos of families with children under the age of 12 right before leaving for church, and compare that to when they arrive at church.  Sometimes the picture is very different, at least in our house!). 

Fortunately, shift change had arrived, and sweet child came back on the scene.  She sat through an hour of Easter music with no difficulty and impeccable behavior, and enjoyed it very much.  I think though, that she used all the patience she had available to her in that hour, because once she and I got home, the antics started again.  Let’s just say I was extremely frustrated by the time I got her in bed.  Then she reached out to give me my good-night hug, and somehow none of the rest mattered anymore.  I guess the entire day was the best of times, after all!

Kayla and Mandy right after we got Mandy

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Updates: Roadkill, Rites of Spring (I) and Grumpy


Hi Everyone!

Sorry this is a little late, but I am having problems with my internet access at my house.  I thought I would update you on previous posts today.

Darwin and Mandy

  • Roadkill

I’ll start with the dogs.  You may remember the stuffed animal toys that had been keeping Darwin and Mandy out of trouble for at least a week?  Well, the two of them finally discovered both the stuffing and the squeakers in the animals and in the space of about three days managed to remove both.  We haven’t (although we probably should) thrown any of them out yet; even though a deflated stuffed dog toy looks a lot like roadkill, Darwin still really loves them and I hate to take them away from him yet.  On the other hand, Mandy’s consumption rate on handkerchiefs and other items has started to climb back up.  The other night I didn’t get the kitchen cleaned in time, and before we knew it, she had helped herself to left-over steak and fries for a hearty night-time snack.  Once we caught her at it, she came trotting back over to the den, but she wasn’t particularly sorry about what she’d done, either. 

Tyra is slowing down a little bit, which isn’t unusual for a dog her age.  Part of her problem is the canine glaucoma she has in her left eye; I don’t think she sees very well out of it anymore, so to go anywhere in the house she circles around the long way so she can see where she’s going through her other eye.  She ended up sulking last night, which I have never seen her do before. 

Tyra in the Kitchen (Mandy and Darwin are in the background)

Mark likes to play the piano.  She likes to stand beside him while he plays and expects him to play one-handed every so often so she can get petted while he plays.  Last night, however, he didn’t stop to pet her.  After about 20 minutes of that, Tyra walked over to Mandy’s carrier and went and sat inside it with her face pointing away from Mark at the piano.  The only explanation was that she was sulking.  When he finished, he went over to the carrier and coaxed her back out.  

  • Rites of Spring (I)

The Way My Garden Groweth (NOT!)

In my March 23 post, “Spring, Roosters & Butterflies”, http://wp.me/p1mXHZ-4U, I mentioned that the first rite of spring was going into a trance at a garden center and walking out with all kinds of spring flowers.  That was three weeks ago.  As of today, the pansies that I bought are still alive outside, but have not been transplanted into the planters on the porch (I have instead hidden the normal planters and left the pansies in the pots they came in), and the grass seed, caladium, gladioli and lily bulbs still remain in the trunk.  Hopefully I will get a chance to work on it Saturday! 

  • Grumpy

While yesterday morning, sweet child made an appearance, this morning saw the arrival of grumpy, crying child.  The first cry came over the fact that she had “nothing to wear.”  For those of you who don’t know us personally, trust me – the child has plenty to wear.  For some reason, she didn’t appreciate it when I proved this fact to her by pulling out a pair of shorts and a shirt for her.  The second cry came while she was brushing her hair in the bathroom; when I went in to investigate, I discovered her brushing her hair so hard with the hairbrush that it almost amounted to her hitting her head with the hairbrush.  Further inquiry established that the problem was that neither her bangs, nor a section of hair would lie down flat.  Although my suggestion that she use some “no tangle” spray on the rebellious sections was scorned at first, I noticed that the problem was fixed exactly the way I had suggested.  When she finally came out of the bathroom, she announced she was not going to have breakfast at home because she was sure they were going to have cheese grits for breakfast at school.  The third sulk (not a cry, because Mark was out in the great room by then, too) was over the fact that I refused to let her take ginger ale in a thermos to school.  School rules specifically state that soft drinks are not allowed, so we made her pour it out.  She decided to take lemon-lime Gatorade instead, but absolutely insisted on pouring into a thermos.  When I asked why, she said that all her friends drank their drinks in cool containers like that, and she wanted to do likewise.  She chose to take the thermos we purchased the one time we took her on an overnight cruise, so I suspect she will be the only child at school drinking her drink from a Royal Caribbean insulated tumbler.

Mark finally managed to cheer her up before they left, but we were definitely having a Monday morning on Friday!

Kaylas Spring School Picture (Age 9)

Have a great day and weekend everyone!

Nancy

Growing Up


Good morning everyone!

It’s pretty surprising, but when I woke up this morning, I realized that we had reached Thursday, with an excellent chance of reaching Friday tomorrow.  This week is flying by! 

The older I get, the quicker time passes.  Only yesterday Kayla was 3, and I was reading her a bedtime story, and now she is a beautiful young lady of 9!

Bed Time Story when Kayla was three

Kayla's Spring School Picture (Age 9)

That’s quite a change in just 6 short years! 

As she grows, I enjoy seeing her personality develop, and, in spite of any small mistakes she makes along the way, I love the beautiful sweet intelligent person that she is growing up to be.  (Of course, we haven’t hit the teen years, yet, either.  I have heard through friends that the reasons children are so sweet in their elementary school years is to give the parents enough memories to allow the children to survive their teens.) 

To give you an idea of the difference in maturity, one Saturday afternoon when Kayla was five, Mark was taking a nap in our bedroom while I was doing some chores in the great room and Kayla was (supposed) to be either napping or playing in her bedroom.  Suddenly, a piercing wail/scream came out of her bedroom.  I rushed in to find her holding her hand, crying at the top of  her lungs.  Even though I am not a doctor, it was quickly apparent what was wrong – a staple was pressed into the bottom part of her hand.   After some pleading, chiding and exhortation on my part, she finally allowed me to take her hand and pull out the staple.  Being a rational human being, I asked her how the staple came to be in her hand, assuming that it had to have been an accident.  Well, I was wrong – she told me she had decided to staple her hand to see what it felt like.  She certainly found out!  It was actually a brilliant, if accidental, diversionary tactic on her part, since due to the distractions involved in removing the staple, it took me another four or five minutes to realize that the stapler had been in her bedroom originally so that she could staple pictures onto her wall. 

Now, at age 9, the stories (for the most part) involve little things she says, or does.  For example, this year Kayla has blossomed into an avid reader.  She has read tons of books for school, and has over 100 Accelerated Reader points for the year!  She also has two or three books at home she is working on.  Now those of you who grew up in the same house with me will understand why I find this next so amusing – when she is really concentrating on what she is reading, she doesn’t hear or notice when someone is speaking to her.  I can remember coming home from high school, starting to read, and then suddenly realizing that my youngest sister had been speaking to me for about five minutes without my having heard anything! 

Last night, we ate on trays.  (I know, I know, it’s not the best way to eat supper, but we had choir practice at church and it was already 8 by the time we sat down to eat, so trays it was!)  I forgot to put a fork on her tray, and rather than calling out to me to bring her one, she put her tray down and started to go into the kitchen to get her own.  I apologized for neglecting to place a fork on her tray, and she veered off course to come around to me, give me a big hug and say, “Mom, it’s okay; it’s nobody’s fault, you just forgot!” 

Then, this morning, I called to her that it was time to get up and on the second call, I heard a voice from her bedroom calling cheerfully to me, “Mom, I need help.”  I went in to look, and somehow she had managed to roll herself tightly into her top blanket during the night and needed someone to pull the bottom of the blanket out from under her.  She looked rather like a large caterpillar in a purple cocoon.  She thought so too, because when I asked her how she had gotten wound up in her covers like that she answered with a bright smile and laugh, “I don’t know, but I must have  thought I was a butterfly!” 

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy