"You can grab Penny some Apple Jacks. Just plain on the table." I said to Tucker as I poured cereal into three bowls. He had been snuggling with her on this frigid morning and it was time for her to eat. He put her in the high chair and got her buckled in while I threw together breakfast for the other three littles.
He looked at me quizzically. "Apple Jacks?"
"Yes." I said. "Apple Jacks."
"We don't have Apple Jacks." he said.
I set down the bag of cereal and looked at him. "I'm literally pouring Apple Jacks into bowls right now."
"Oooooh." he said. "Those are Apple Zings. I didn't know what you meant."
There is no grace around here when it comes to calling something a different name than what it says on the label. If I buy off-brand Oreo's, I better not call them Oreo's because I'll have at least 5 kids looking at me and saying, "We don't have Oreo's! We have Great Value Twist and Shout Sandwich Cookies!"
And then I find myself all flustered, apologizing to these all-knowing children who clearly know more than me. What was I thinking? Oreo's? There is clearly a difference! I knew they were Great Value Twist and Shout Sandwich Cookies and I stupidly called them Oreo's! Right in front of them! So embarrassing.
Willow found her way to the breakfast table, Puppup in tow tucked under her arm. She climbed up onto the bench and took one look into her bowl and pushed it away.
"I want way too much!" she whined. Way too much is code for a lot.
"I'm not giving you more." I told her. "That's plenty."
"I want way too much!" she cried, as she climbed down off the bench and stomped into the living room. "I'm not eating anymore."
Wow. She showed me. I offered up her rejected bowl of cereal to the other breakfast participants at the table. This usually does the trick. If she doesn't want something, I offer it to someone else and she will come clamoring back to claim it before anyone else can take it. It worked. As Henry pretended to eat it, she ran back to the table to grab it back. And she ate it. Even if it wasn't way too much.
It works with just about any situation she tries to get out of. Refusing to go to bed? I will offer her bed to Henry who giggles and crawls into it until she pulls him out and crawls in herself. Refusing to brush her teeth? Hand the toothbrush to Penny until she grabs it from her and uses it herself. Refusing to give Dad a good-morning hug? He offers good-morning hugs to everyone else right in front of her and she runs up to the mob and pushes them away so she can hug him. All the kids are in on it and its one neat trick we learned that has saved us from many frustrating situations with our beautiful and spirited two year old Willow Pearl.
Piper made her way upstairs, complaining that there was no school again today due to -30 degree weather. Its too cold to go out, its to wet to play ball, so we'll sit in the house and do nothing at all is basically what she said. Or maybe that was Dr. Seuss. I can't remember. Our kids are strange; they love school. They cry when school is cancelled. Tucker is upset that he doesn't get media day this week. Piper and Milo are upset that they are missing out on roller skating in gym. Ruby is sad that she's missing out on her morning helper job in her kindergarten class. (Yet she's dragging her feet with zero enthusiasm to get her morning job done here.)
Avery is the only one who's not complaining about missing school. My 6th grade, 12 year old oldest child has morphed into a miniature adult right before our eyes. She sleeps in when she can, takes a morning shower, then boils herself some water and prepares a cup of tea to begin her day. She slowly sips it at the table while turning pages in her book, ignoring the chaos around her. She'll look up from her book to look out the window, ponder something, then go back to her book.
Part of her morning routine is picking up Penny and smothering her with kisses. She told me the other morning as she squeezed the baby, "I cannot wait to have my own kids! Except I'll drink tea in the mornings, not coffee."
Its going to be another cozy day indoors. The boys are making tanks out of Magformers and preparing a battle in the living room. Penny crawls into their territory and there is a lot of yelling and panic as she tries to break their tanks. The two elementary age girls are busily playing school in their room, easing their withdrawals from learning. Willow and Puppup are curled up next to me, flipping through a family photo book. Avery has moved her reading from the table to the couch.
And I accomplished something this morning that I've been dragging my feet, er, fingers to do; I busted out a blog post.
He looked at me quizzically. "Apple Jacks?"
"Yes." I said. "Apple Jacks."
"We don't have Apple Jacks." he said.
I set down the bag of cereal and looked at him. "I'm literally pouring Apple Jacks into bowls right now."
"Oooooh." he said. "Those are Apple Zings. I didn't know what you meant."
There is no grace around here when it comes to calling something a different name than what it says on the label. If I buy off-brand Oreo's, I better not call them Oreo's because I'll have at least 5 kids looking at me and saying, "We don't have Oreo's! We have Great Value Twist and Shout Sandwich Cookies!"
And then I find myself all flustered, apologizing to these all-knowing children who clearly know more than me. What was I thinking? Oreo's? There is clearly a difference! I knew they were Great Value Twist and Shout Sandwich Cookies and I stupidly called them Oreo's! Right in front of them! So embarrassing.
Willow found her way to the breakfast table, Puppup in tow tucked under her arm. She climbed up onto the bench and took one look into her bowl and pushed it away.
"I want way too much!" she whined. Way too much is code for a lot.
"I'm not giving you more." I told her. "That's plenty."
"I want way too much!" she cried, as she climbed down off the bench and stomped into the living room. "I'm not eating anymore."
Wow. She showed me. I offered up her rejected bowl of cereal to the other breakfast participants at the table. This usually does the trick. If she doesn't want something, I offer it to someone else and she will come clamoring back to claim it before anyone else can take it. It worked. As Henry pretended to eat it, she ran back to the table to grab it back. And she ate it. Even if it wasn't way too much.
It works with just about any situation she tries to get out of. Refusing to go to bed? I will offer her bed to Henry who giggles and crawls into it until she pulls him out and crawls in herself. Refusing to brush her teeth? Hand the toothbrush to Penny until she grabs it from her and uses it herself. Refusing to give Dad a good-morning hug? He offers good-morning hugs to everyone else right in front of her and she runs up to the mob and pushes them away so she can hug him. All the kids are in on it and its one neat trick we learned that has saved us from many frustrating situations with our beautiful and spirited two year old Willow Pearl.
Piper made her way upstairs, complaining that there was no school again today due to -30 degree weather. Its too cold to go out, its to wet to play ball, so we'll sit in the house and do nothing at all is basically what she said. Or maybe that was Dr. Seuss. I can't remember. Our kids are strange; they love school. They cry when school is cancelled. Tucker is upset that he doesn't get media day this week. Piper and Milo are upset that they are missing out on roller skating in gym. Ruby is sad that she's missing out on her morning helper job in her kindergarten class. (Yet she's dragging her feet with zero enthusiasm to get her morning job done here.)
Avery is the only one who's not complaining about missing school. My 6th grade, 12 year old oldest child has morphed into a miniature adult right before our eyes. She sleeps in when she can, takes a morning shower, then boils herself some water and prepares a cup of tea to begin her day. She slowly sips it at the table while turning pages in her book, ignoring the chaos around her. She'll look up from her book to look out the window, ponder something, then go back to her book.
Part of her morning routine is picking up Penny and smothering her with kisses. She told me the other morning as she squeezed the baby, "I cannot wait to have my own kids! Except I'll drink tea in the mornings, not coffee."
Its going to be another cozy day indoors. The boys are making tanks out of Magformers and preparing a battle in the living room. Penny crawls into their territory and there is a lot of yelling and panic as she tries to break their tanks. The two elementary age girls are busily playing school in their room, easing their withdrawals from learning. Willow and Puppup are curled up next to me, flipping through a family photo book. Avery has moved her reading from the table to the couch.
And I accomplished something this morning that I've been dragging my feet, er, fingers to do; I busted out a blog post.
Comments
Post a Comment