and he reads...

My son's teacher stopped me at school on Friday....typically not a good sign. She only had raving reviews however...on his maturity, his big K readiness, his awesome lowercase letters and how wonderfully he READ a book to the class that day.

Now, his reading isn't really news to me, but I will confess, I have wondered if some of it wasn't just memorization. She assured me this was a book he'd never seen before and did it beautifully, out loud, with his classmates gathered around.

Fast forward to today: rainy lazy day wanting to get some spring cleaning done. How is this possible? Isaac spent about 2 hours in his room reading books to his sister. She's taken to following him around the house, toting a book with her, shouting "read it to me, read it to me"....

Love!

The Tooth Fairy

Our 'lil guy lost his first took at the end of February (yes, I know, it's March & you're just being told this). His tooth was loose for some time and as he bit into a Girl Scout Samoa cookie, the tooth got stuck in the chocolate layer in the bottom...voila. Scrambin' for some tooth fairy cash.

The tooth fairy happened to leave a bit of a mess on his dresser....fairy dust was scattered all around. Later on the next day he asks me

Mama, was that real fairy dust or not?

It was real, why do you ask?

Because it kinda just looked like glitter you can buy at Walmart.

Grr....I have little doubt that this child will begin questioning lots of things before we are ready for him.

Indoor Voice Please.

Ah, kids say the darndest things is how it goes right? Or kids are just able to get away with not filtering their mouths.

I've got missy in the bathroom with me the other day. The PUBLIC bathroom. I'm just peeing.

Honest. Just peeing. She begins LOUDLY exclaiming

"Eeewww. Gross. Nasty. Peee-eewww Mama. Mama stinky poop. Yuck. Gross. Eeewww."

Loudly saying such things. Such lies. Such falsities.

Good thing she's cute. And that I've got a thick skin--which I needed to buffer up a bit while holding my head high walking out of the stall.

At Church* the other morning when it was time for the offering basket to be passed around, I dig through my purse, open my wallet and see that I have $22 in cash on hand. A shiny new $20 bill and 2 $1 bills. Well, given that we're new to this Church, and the $20 is brand new, I hand my son $2 to put in the basket which is now waiting for us.

To this he LOUDLY exclaims

"TWO DOLLARS?! THAT'S IT? That's all your gonna give 'em? ONLY TWO DOLLARS? Don't you have any more money to give them?"

Yes, all eyes on me. Cheap ass holding up the offering basket with my measly singles & nasty bathroom habits.

**Church, yes. We've been attending church on a regular basis for the past several months. It's been a big deal for me that we are not attending a Catholic Church. We were to understand that there are fairly big changes happening within the actual Catholic mass and if we were learning new things, well, we might as well learn them at a place we actually want to go.

So we've fallen, easily and seamlessly, into a very large, active, uber family oriented Methodist Church.

Gasp. Gasp. Methodist. What do we know about being Methodist? Well, nothing actually, but we know if we've met all the criteria for being Catholic, then it seems just about any one else will take us with open arms. That, and I start my "Welcome to Methodism" orientation next month.

Clue. A Boardgame. And Real Life.

My children are playing nice in the family room. Until I hear lil E shrieking. She comes to find me, she's quite distraught. Tears streaming down her face, sobbing, gasping for words.

Isaac sits passively by and watches. I raise my brows at him. He shrugs.

I ask E what happens. It comes out like this:

"Isaac.....gasp....sob....my sock......gasp.....sob....my chair...."

Isaac, what happened? What did you do to her?

Well, what did she say I did? My darling son inquires.

I'm not sure what she's saying you did. I can't quite understand her. You should still come & apologize. You've obviously done something to upset her. It involves you, her sock and a chair.

Or is it Colonel Mustard with a Revolver in the Billards Room?

Oh. He responds. Well, if she can't tell you what I did then you don't actually know that I did anything wrong do you?

Well. Well. Well. I'm a bit speechless and he has a point. To an extent. Right? Or not?

He leaves the room, with an aside let me know if she tells you what I did, then I'll apologize. Oh, here E, here's your sock back.

Grrrr......

Sassy Pants

Ms. Sassy Pants got herself some new sassy pants today.

Undie pants to be specific. For the record, we wear undies or underwear or undie pants in our house. There aren't any panties to be found.

I find that word makes me want to vomit. My son asked when Ms. E was going to start wearing panties. He was a bit perplexed by the answer of NEVER**. She will NEVER wear panties. Ah. Shivers.

I'm a very lazy potty-trainer. I really see no reason to do it at all with 'lil girl. She's smart, she'll get it. As of now, she tells me when she's peeing and pooping, I smile very nicely and wait for her to go get me a new diaper to change her. Yes, yes, I could seize this momentum but I'll wait to see how far she takes herself.

I did make a tiny baby step today when shopping at my favorite, I mean, only mega store today and let 'lil E pick out some undie pants. She chose Dora over Minnie Mouse (praise the Lord I'm over the M.O.U.S.E.). Got home & in her excitement admired herself for sometime in front of a floor length mirror shaking her money maker around giggling.

We did this for all 6 pairs...Isaac & I on the floor hysterical to see her shake her stuff to see the undie pants with patterns on the back. She's currently sprouting a pair on over her jammies, looking like she's one cool Sassy Pants.

** A side note, if I don't use the word "panties", how does my son know that they are what girls wear?...

Freshly Laundered

I'll take a break from wasting my time searching the internet on how to salvage a freshly laundered iPod. It seems everyone else in the known universe, per Google, has been able to revive theirs....no such luck here. It's really not that big of deal, except I've given my son my old one and I can't really take it back. He's filled it with songs like Did You See Where The Cat Threw Up?, Bartleby Finkleton Will Not Take A Bath and my personal favorite (serious) Cucumber Canoe.

I can't possibly crush his spirit by requesting he surrender his new device. He walks around the house with his headphones on, jamming away, shouting orders at us--claiming he can't hear what we're saying to him (convenient). It's just too much for me to do, simply so I can listen to my most recently purchased Glee Cast singles...addicted.

So enjoy these new tunes, I'm going to submerge my iPod in a bowl of rice for a week....

Nothing Good Comes Of It...

I had every intention to write to you today....something clever, something witty, something that would knock your socks off.

It typically is quite easy to do such a thing because despite what you may think about the life of a stay at home mom, I have never once found it to be dull, unfulfilling or boring. Not in the slightest. I am one of the most interesting people I know. My husband is one of the most wonderful men I have encountered. My children are 2 of the most delightful creatures to ever walk the Earth. I'm confident you agree.

That said, the reason that I am unable to provide much wit or cleverness today however is that nothing good comes from having 7 of your favorite neighbors over with 17 bottles of wine between you. You can do the math on this, right?....it's not my strong suit--I'll leave you to it.

Repeat after me:

Unless.You.Work.At.A.Bar.You.Have.No.Reason.To.Have.17.Bottles.Of.Wine.
ON.A.SUNDAY.NIGHT.

Until I'm let out of detox, Goodnight.