Communicating with Others

God, I love first graders. They are just figuring it all out, but still have the ability to keep their imaginations strong. Here is Sister's latest project from school. She is into robots lately (all the cool kids like robots!) and has made several different robot pictures.

The description is priceless, mainly because she is generally geeked about her two chores, not sure why all of a sudden she needs a robot to be doing them for her.

And first grade spelling - those kids are learning the rules, and sticking to them, dammit!

Dead or Alive

Sister's class is working on writing letters, the formalities of it, writing sentences, etc. Apparently, they wrote their classmates a letter. Sister said there was no specific instructions about the letter, just write about something they like.

Here is the letter Sister received...



Not sure there's anything else to say about that...

She Likes to Move It

I love how you can make babies do almost anything, and they generally play along. Here's Tess showing off her dance skills with the Dancing Queen herself, Ashley. Sorry for the shakes, I was laughing too hard!

Mmmm, Bacon

Boo likes bacon...I mean really likes it. He could eat a pound of bacon if given the chance...he would eat it with a side of sausage. This morning he begged for bacon (ala the Beggin Strips commmercial, just less dog-like). I said it was frozen and that we could have bacon for lunch. He jumped for joy. At noon, I put the bacon in the oven and waited as the house filled with bacon fumes. Boo got excited. I rationed him four pieces, and he started gobbling. At one point, he had jammed so much bacon in his mouth that he had started to choke. I got a paper towel for him to spit it out, but he raised his hand as to shoo me and kept chewing. He wiped his eyes and smiled.

Boo: I almost choked.
Me: Yeah, I saw that.
Boo: (proudly) Yep, I almost spit it out, but then I kept chewing, and it went down.

Way to go Boo, risk your life for the glorious piece of bacon - kudos to you!

The Obamas

Here is Boo's take on the 44th president...

The Story

Everyday we leave the house at 2:45 to go pick Sister up from school at three. Tess-a-Bess is usually crabby and tired, ready for her afternoon nap. Boo is cranky for having to leave the Wii, Power Rangers, or any other of the million things he could be doing when I drag him kicking and screaming into the car to get his sister. While we drive, we often listen to NPR. The Story http://thestory.org/ is always just wrapping up. I figure Boo is off in his own world, but realized the other day that he must be paying attention. When Dick Gordon gives his sign off, he asks listeners to call in with their stories. I am not really paying attention to this part, until Boo speaks up.

Boo: Mom!! Quick, call I have a story!
Me: A story, call who??
Boo: The guy said if you have a story, you should call them and tell them.
Me: Now, what is your story?
Boo: Ok, so Mrs. Carpenter, Mrs. Carpenter (giggle, giggle, giggle)

Mrs. Carpenter is Boo's incredible lovely teacher.

Me: Yes...Mrs. Carpenter what?
Boo: Mrs. Carpenter went to the bathroom once, and you know what, she had her keys in her pocket, she stood up, and you know what, the keys fell. (giggle, giggle, giggle) And then, you know what, she flushed the toilet, and do you know what happened the keys got flushed. (uproarious laughter ensues)
Me: Well, that is funny, and next time you hear the number tell me it and you can call and tell your story.

I'm hoping Dick gets as much of a kick out of it as I do, but I'm guessing not so much...

The Tooth Fairy

Last night while scrubbing Sister's dirty face (winner, winner - pizza dinner), I accidentally got the washcloth stuck on her loose tooth. I felt it and she felt it.

Sister: Ouch Mom, you bumped my tooth!
Me: (seeing the new hole in her mouth) What tooth?!?

We found said tooth in the tub, all washed clean, ready for presentation to the revered tooth fairy. Except that bitch didn't come. As I cleaned up Miss Bess this morning from her fourth night in a row peeing her bed, Sister came in the room.

Sister: My tooth is still in the box under my pillow!
Me: (lets out an audible gasp) Wow, I wonder what happened?
(you fell asleep watching Tropic Thunder you idiot and forgot to tell the hubby to put the dollar in when he took the kids for their midnight bathroom run, that's what happened.)

Sister: Maybe she got married last night, or got stuck in traffic.
Me: Yeah, married...perhaps, or maybe she just had so many teeth last night, she didn't get here yet.
Sister: I am writing her a letter.

Here is that letter, which she left under her pillow with a whole other piece of paper and a pencil.

That tooth fairy has some 'splainin to do!

The Truth

So the subject came up today about families. For those who don't know me (which is alot of you!) I have a large, pretty damn blended family. My parents were divorced when I was three, my Mom got remarried when I was 22, after dating my Dad for 10 years. And yes, I call him my Dad...something that only started as a joke after they got married, and then stuck.

When you have kids come along, explaining these complexities can be difficult. We have tried to be very good about acknowledging all the grandparents (did I mention the hubby's rents were divorced and remarried...yep four sets of grandparents). The kids used to be confused when they were really young, but have kind of caught on recently. Who are the brothers, the sisters, steps and not.

Today we were talking about when Grandma (my Mom) and Papa (my Dad aka stepdad) were married. We talked about when Grandma met Papa, when they fell in love and how they got married. Here comes a nugget of knowledge I never thought I'd hear, at least not from a seven year old.

Sister: I know why Grandma and your real dad got divorced.
Hubby and I whip our heads around to her .
Me (trying to be cool and nonchalant, but sucking at it): Oh yeah, why?
Sister (sensing perhaps this isn't the most freely discussed topic): Um, I'm not sure I have it right.
Hubby (always cool and collected): Tell us what you think.
Sister: So, Grandma and your dad got divorced because he drank too much beer and couldn't take care of you.
I almost spit out my drink, and didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't beer, but Cutty Sark whiskey, so much so that he named our dog after it...but you really shouldn't sweat the small stuff.
Me (trying not to laugh my ass off): Hmmm, you're right...who told you that?
Sister: I don't know.

Let me guess...would it have been my Mom, the woman who put up with his drinking ass for not too long but just enough to carry a 30+ year grudge against the man. Not sure, but I am guessing probably. She did tell Sister the truth though. Gotta love my Mom!

Sister

So, our first born is sweet and aptly called Sister. We started calling Sister that when her little brother came along. We always referred to her when speaking to him as Sister or Sissy...it stuck. It stuck so much that many family members call her Sister, so much that many of Boo's friends also call her Sister. So much that when Boo says her real name, I have to ask him a couple times who he is talking about. It is a nice tradition though, as my hubby's grandma (an exceptionally wonderful, lovely, amazing woman akin to Rose Kennedy) was always called Sis growing up. Once Sister heard this, she likes the idea of always be called Sister.

Sister is sassy, funny, into fashion and music. She recently entered the talent show at her school - she will be singing Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da by The Beatles. In a time of HSM galore and that hussy Miley, I'm glad she picked something classic, and something that totally fits her. She also recently went to a friend's New Years Party. At the party, one of the activities was making a list of your goals for 2009. Here's Sister's:

1. Have a sleepover with a friend.

2. Get better at soccer.

3. Earn money by doing chores (um...ok!)

4. Ride a sled standing up

5. Win a contest!

Wow, is all I can say, oh and to be seven again!

Hot Dogs

Boo comes roaring into our room this morning at 6:30am. The alarm has gone off, and subsequently been turned off. Our new alarm clock is here.

Me: Jump in Boo!
Boo:Can I be the hot dog?
Just to be clear - hot dog is the snuggle game we play. Whoever is on the outside are the buns, inside is the dog.
Boo: Now Mom, you be the hot dog
Hubby: Now I like this hot dog!
Boo: If Sister and Miss Bess were here, I would be the hot dog & the mustard, Sister would be the ketchup, and Miss Bess would be the lelish.
Me: Relish
Boo: Oh...yeah, relish - that would be a good hot dog!

The best one I can think of!!

Miss Bess

Like I said in my profile - my kids are funny. Hilarious in fact...so many times have I had to turn my head when they have said something. One time (god I wish I could remember what Sister had said) that I literally pretended I was crying from her behavior to hide my hysterical laughter.

Miss Bess is almost 3/4 of a year old. And though she can't talk, the things she does and the looks she has are equally hilarious. (though you can't really underestimate the hilarity of a well-timed "ba-ba-ba"). Miss Bess' favorite new thing is pointing - not at anything in particular, she isn't that advanced yet - but just with her pointer finger and sometimes thumb out. A few times she has put that pointed finger and thumb up to her head...you know like letting me know I'm a loser. (good bloggers would insert some fittingly funny picture of Miss Bess doing this adorable trick - that's not me!) Good thing she is young, because insulting your mom like that will get her in trouble when she is older.

Here are just some sweet picture of that baby that we love...



Miss Bess and her mama



Miss Bess after a small procedure that caused her no harm, and us lots of photos!


Sleeping this afternoon with her fingers poking through the blanket!

Sticky

So, imaginary friends. Most kids have had them at one point or another. Sister (my oldest) used to have one named Andi when she was about 3. Andi came everywhere with her, and you had to be sure that you left room at the table for Andi, offered Andi food at dinner, and most importantly, held the door for Andi (one too many smacks in Andi's face taught us that one). At 4.5, I figured Boo (my middle)had past the stage where imaginary friends were part of his play. Apparently not...

Boo: See this stick I found, its my new imaginary friend!
Me: Great, but leave your imaginary friend outside so if he has any imaginary bugs in him they don't get in the house.
Boo: ::begrudgingly:: OK Mom

Three hours later on the way to Sister's piano..
Boo: I've got Sticky!
Me: Who's sticky?
Boo: My imaginary friend, it's a stick and his name is Sticky!
Me: Cool
Boo: You know why I have to hold him? Because he has a broken leg. And you know what Mom, he doesn't have a wheelchair, so I have to carry him around.

Hmmm, a wheelchair for a stick - at least my boy is kind enough to carry the gimpy stick around!