Schooling the Drama Queen

I've mentioned before what a drama queen my 7-year-old daughter is. On days when she is a little wired (like today), teaching her is a unique experience. Observe the following real conversations in our house this morning:

Drama Queen, proudly: Mommy I spelled purple-itioner!

When I looked at the dry erase board, it said "perpendicular."

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10 year-old-daughter: Mommy, how many bones are in your foot? [I taught the kids' homeschool co-op human anatomy class in the fall.]

Me: I don't remember, honey; there are several.

Drama Queen: Your bladder!

Me: She asked how many bones are in your foot.

Drama Queen: Oh--I thought she said butt! Your bladder looks like a strawberry.

This conversation was wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to analyze it.

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Anxious to finish schooling and get out into the fresh morning air, Drama Queen ran into the kitchen where I was teaching her brother.

Drama Queen: I finished phonics on the computer! I typed those letters and then the spaces and then the letters and then the spaces and then the letters.

Me: You mean sentences?

Drama Queen: Yeah--sentences!

What they're saying:

Five-year-old son: "When I grow up, I want to be a dollah."

Me: "A dollar?"

Five-year-old son: "Yes, a dollah."

Three-year-old daughter: "When I grow up, I want to be a doctor."

Seven-year-old daughter: "When I grow up, I want to work at Target."

Five-year-old son: "When I grow up, I want to be a rich guy." (which of course must be easier than actually being a dollar)

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Seven-year-old daughter:"Mom, did you know vanilla isn't actually blonde, it's brown?"

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Me (after dressing Lily): "Okay, now--you're good to go!"

Three-year-0ld daughter, looking down at her pajamas: "Oh! I forgot to get good to go!"

Overheard in my living room:

"Felicity, I need you to come to the center of the stage. You sang "One Horse Open Sleigh." The vote was unanimous. You're going to Hollywood!"

Does anyone else have a house full of Idol wannabes?

From the mouths of babes

My observant and painfully honest three-year-old daughter sat behind me this morning while I was fixing my hair. At one point she said, "Mommy, your bottom is bigger."

Foolishly and with trepidation I said, "Bigger than what?"

"Bigger."

"Bigger than what?" [Did I ever mention that I'm a glutton for punishment?]

"Bigger."

I finally realized that I wasn't going to get a "bigger than a breadbox" kind of answer; what she was trying to say was "bigger than the last time I noticed."

It goes without saying that parenting isn't for cowards. Let me assure you that it isn't for those with much need of ego stroking, either.

spaghetti, anyone?

In spite of being sick, I just had to get out and go to church yesterday. We ordained two of my favorite men in the world (from my favorite families) as deacons. They are so special to us that they were both pallbearers at my mother's funeral. I just tried not to get too close to or breathe on anyone. My make-up was lovely; since my cold has moved into both eyes, leaving them glued together in the morning and swollen and red during the day, I was afraid to apply make-up in the usual way, not wanting to contaminate and have to throw away a perfectly good tube of mascara. If there's one thing I learned from my mother it was this: even if you feel like hell, you put yourself together the best you can. Work with what you've got, honey! So I applied eye make-up and mascara with my fingers (you're not going to find make-up tips for this anywhere since no one in their right mind would recommend it), put on my glasses (don't want to have to toss a pair of contacts, either), and thoroughly washed all my make-up brushes. I stayed home sick today, but I'm awfully glad I was there yesterday.

On the way home, my seven-year-old daughter (currently sporting an absence of front teeth) asked me a question I hear quite often, "Mommy, what do you want me to draw?"

I mentally riffled through my usual suggestions, but a girl can only draw so many butterflies, flowers, and babies. My eyes turned to the monstrosity of metal and concrete overhead, and I said, "Spaghetti junction."

Dead silence from the back seat, and then, "Uh..., could I just draw spaghetti?"

Bow Madness!

I am so excited that my Picasa has decided to work with blogger beta now!

I wanted to share this crazy picture of my Sabra and her friend, Rachel. Rachel and her brother spent the night last night with my kids. The girls were having fun today looking through the two big boxes of bows that I have here to photograph for my friend's bow website. Rachel styled this fabulous bow hairstyle creation for Sabra! Aren't those bows gorgeous (and the girls, too!)?

I guess this is why they hurt so bad

Yesterday Prince Charming asked if he could go visit our retired neighbor, Miss Ann.

"No, she's sick, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. She may have kidney bones!"

I think kidney stones have been forever renamed for me.

because she says so

I was informed this morning by my three-year-old daughter, "Santa Claus likes me!"

What's not to like? 

Huh?

The following took place today while working on chemistry with my fifteen-year-old son:

Three-year-old daughter, pointing in toy catalog: I'm getting one of these for Christmas!

Fifteen-year-old son: No, Christmas this year is for ages five and up. You and Lily won't be getting anything.

Daughter, holding up two fingers: YES I WILL! I'm this many years old!

Son and I, simultaneously, while choking back laughter and holding up three fingers: Actually, you are this many years old.

Daughter: NO I'M NOT! I'm going to Christmas!

Son: You don't go to Christmas.

Daughter: YES I DO! And I go to birthdays!

At this point we just rolled our eyes and went back to chemistry, which makes about as much sense to me as conversations with some of my kids.

just following orders

My Prince Charming is anything but camera shy. When he saw I was going to take pictures of his sister, he jumped right in.



Then he wanted to get his bear (remember him?) in on the act.



I'm not sure what's happened in the last few days, but my baby is turning into a little girl. She wants to carry around baby dolls, give them bottles, and push them in the doll stroller. It's sweet, but I still want her to be the baby.


After I took their pictures, Prince Charming looked at me and said, "Now go put them on the internet." They learn pretty quickly, don't they?

 

you can't see the paper for the trees

Mommy Dearest, observing the site of a future shopping center: Wow! They've really cut down a lot of trees!

Drama Queen: They must have needed some paper.

Along came a spider...

Drama Queen: There's a DEADLY spider in my room!

Mom (not really paying attention, grading math): It's probably not deadly.

Prince Charming, upstairs: NO! IT'S ALIVE!!!!!!!!!

Drama Queen: There's a LIVELY spider in my room!

My Classy Kids

I planned a curriculum shopping trip today to pick up some odds and ends we need. My older kids had music lessons this afternoon, so the plan was to take the younger ones with me to a local homeschool supply company with a large warehouse and play area. After dropping off the older kids and starting on our way, Chloe tells me that she forgot her shoes. At the end of my huge spiel on never leaving home without them, Clayton admits he doesn't have any, either. Home was twenty minutes in the opposite direction, so that wasn't an option if I hoped to buy the books.

Since it's already September, I thought maybe it would be a good time to go ahead and buy their fall tennis shoes (that's sneakers, for you northerners). When we got to Ross, I discovered that Felicity didn't have any shoes, either! She was asleep when we left the house, but I had been assured that her shoes were with us. It is completely against my my standards of what is socially acceptable to take three (actually four, if you count Lily) barefooted kids to any public place other than the pool. I had hoped to cram all of them into a shopping cart, but Ross's carts aren't that big. Instead, two rode in the cart and two walked.

With the absence of a "No shirt, no shoes, no service" sign (do they save those for restaurants?), we entered the store. My goal was to get in and out, with as few people as possible gaping at all those bare feet. The kids asked if they were getting new flip-flops. I told them summer was almost over and we would get new tennis shoes. It was then that they reminded me they already had new ones. Let me interject that I am an incredibly frugal person, the kind who would never buy an unneeded item (like a second pair of tennis shoes) unless it was practically being given away.

At this point, Felicity squealed, "I just farted!" with all the delight of a child who is potty-training and becoming very aware of this sort of thing. This is a word which you will never hear me use; I even had trouble typing it. By then, I was just wishing the floor would open up and swallow me and my barefooted, redneck-acting kids.

We emerged with socks, panties for Felicity (her announcement made me remember she needed more), a much-needed new backpack for Chloe for co-op classes, and a couple of Christmas present ideas; at least the trip wasn't completely in vain. After we got everyone in the car, I made a call to Bryan and realized the book store closed in ten minutes. I guess this means we get to try it again. Maybe next time they'll remember their shoes...

Moonstruck

We went to an outdoor movie viewing tonight, bringing our lawnchairs and blankets and sitting out under the stars. Afterward, walking to our van, I pointed out the big, orange, full moon to my 3-year-old daughter. She looked and said, "We have one of those moons at our house, too."

MW

I found out what MW means: moi! I guess I need to teach that boy French (or at least French spelling).

I hang with a tough crowd

I almost never cook breakfast. The only times I do are when I prepare something at night to cook in the morning; the problem is that in the evening I forget to plan ahead. Today I found the following hand-scrawled message on the refrigerator:

Make Dutch Puff
or Die
MW hahahaha
love, christian

I'm still not sure what the MW means, but I think the child wants a Dutch Puff.

*UPDATED* Our new puppy...

LILY!

It was bad enough when she would merely stand by the dog crate, opening and shutting the gate, but now she actually CRAWLS INSIDE!

*Update* - Sabra ran in this evening carrying Lily and screaming, "She's eating dog food!" I swept my finger through her mouth multiple times to get it out (yuck!). Sabra was completely grossed out, too. Lily looked a little surprised at the initial gag reflex, but didn't seem to mind the dog food itself. What am I gonna do with this girl?

Hold your horses!

I was trying to change the diaper on my squirming 13-month-old, while yelling, "Hold your horses!"
My 2-year-old looked at me, baffled, and said, "She don't have any horses, Mommy. She don't have any horses in her hands."

A Visit from the Tooth Fairy

Angel was thrilled to lose her 2nd tooth last night. She had been asking for 2 weeks when it was going to come out (as if I knew). Last night she was showing me how she could lay it down flat with her tongue and then do something with it with her hand, and it just came out. She had a look of total shock and surprise on her face when she saw the tooth in her hand, then started jumping up and down and screaming. This morning she ran downstairs and told Baby Doll, "I got a dollar from the tooth fairy!" Baby, being 2 years old and not in the know on this kind of thing, said, "What tooth fairy?"