In my quest to find out what really goes on in the early hours in my apartment, I've resorted to spying on my children. Every morning I usually awake to an impressive mess and a stash of candy wrappers in the trash can. Of course no one knows how any of it happened. I move anything resembling sweets to a new location most every night, always up high. So the other morning I happened to be awake early and hear Greg saying something about candy. I snuck around the corner and watched as Hailey and Gregory conducted what I can only assume is a regular morning ritual. Greg stood on the floor watching Hailey in excited anticipation as she used a stool to get up and stand on the counters, searching from cupboard to cupboard. She'd open each one and say "none here Greggers", then move on. When she found the stash she yelled "I found some Greggers" then sat right down on the counter and proceeded to hand out candy to both of them. I snuck after them as they took off down the hall to unwrap the candy in their bathroom, where the wrappers would be less obvious. At least they're putting some thought into it. When I turned the light on, I expected to see two shocked guilty looking faces look up at me with a look of sheer terror that they'd been caught. In fact I was looking forward to that moment, planning to relish it while they waited in fear for me to yell and dole out a punishment. Imagine my surprise when all I got was two calm looking children, looking for all the world like it didn't matter one bit that they were busted because really what was mom going to do? Augh why can't I be a scary mom. 20 years ago my brother and I would have gone white with fear in that situation. I wish I could yell at the kids like some big scary black lady on tv and whip the whole family into shape.
Contrast this to McKenzie who, that same night at dinner announces that she doesn't think we should have any dessert tonight because we've had dessert the past few nights and its really not healthy for us. Huh? Dave and I were speechless, then we laughed. Where did this kid come from anyway? We're actually not sure where any of them came from. Surely we didn't produce these weird offspring.
Yep I'm officially a soccer mom now. I drive a stinky, dirty minivan that needs more repairs than we can afford but I don't fix it because it technically still works, woo hoo. I have bad hair, mommy clothes, giant bags under my eyes and I spend 3 days a week parked out at a soccer field. That oh so special hidden food in the back, lost diapers, and wet soccer clothes aroma. I am constantly stuck listening to the Disney Princess cd (even Greggers demands the "rella" cd). So much for being the cool mom. I was going to drive a fresh smelling, freshly painted, souped up Yukon with a stereo to rival any gangster wanna be. I would only wear cool clothes and would never look like, well I do a lot these days. I would NEVER have bad hair. Actually I'm glad I don't have that stereo, I'm pretty sure the current cd choice wouldn't sound so great cranked up with the bass thumping. I switched my part to the other side to hide my few gray hairs. And today in the rearview mirror, I noticed I have rather noticable wrinkles in a few areas. How did this happen to us?
Monday, April 21, 2008
My girls have always played mommy with their dolls and acted out scenes from princess movies, but I never thought I'd see Greg do the same thing with cars. Greggers is totally obsessed with cars. He drives them around the house all day, car in one hand, blanky in the other. He lines them all up and yells "lets wace!" then makes vroomings noises and yells "I win!" Or they greet each other and have conversations. I don't know what they talk about but I can occasionally make out the words "Kachow" and "let's wace". He loves to reenact parts of the movie Cars. He chases around the toy bus with his Lightening McQueen yelling "wait Mac wait." Then he wedges his car in the ottoman and yells for Mater to come help. Then he races over with his Mater in a panic to save McQueen. Its pretty funny. Interesting to see how he interprets relationships with a matchbox car. To him they talk and have feelings. He likes to put them in a backpack and take them in the other room to "school" with him.
My chunky little monkey. He's happiest late at night. This was about 11 at night. Cute but cuts into my sleep more than a bit.
Greg out riding his bike. He insists on wearing his helmet like the girls do for his tiny bike.
Kenzie and her build a bear she made with her birthday money.