Thursday, November 03, 2011


The first truly cold week of the fall and we've already got snot and coughing and wheezing. And it rained on Halloween. Only Danny went out trick or treating. Fiona and Owen stayed in and "helped" me give out candy.

It's been a big week here for gross motor skills, though. Fiona finally got on her training wheeled bike and began pedaling. She careens down the driveway and yells, "Wipe OUT." She hasn't figured out the brakes yet. As for Danny, he's learning to ride without the training wheels. I hang onto his seat and let go once he gets situated on the pedals. He's taken a few spills, but has also pedaled on his own for 20 feet at the most and started using his brakes to stop instead of crashing.

Meanwhile, Owen has joined the "beat you" chorus, so now it's a three-way race. He says it at the top of the stairs every morning now. He's quite adorable these days. He actually plays with cars for long periods, pushing them around with sound effects and making parking lots.

Have you seen this? I ask Jim one night in the kitchen.
Uh huh. 
Look at him. 
I try not to because then he'll come over here. 
Aw, but he's so cute. 
Because he's over there. 

The phrase you don't want to hear after bedtime, or ever actually: There's poop on my foot.  (I liked it better when they just cried; now I go up and know exactly what I'm in for. )

Can I have some sugar? Fiona just comes out and asks. Um, no.

I'm hungry, Fiona wails after bedtime.
There's a piece of [fake] cantalope on your floor. Eat that, Jim told her. (Just so you don't think we're starving our kid, she'd just had molasses milk, a fig newton and an apple. She wasn't hungry; she was stalling.) In fact, you have a kitchen in here. Fix yourself something to eat. And she did.

I'm a girl, Fiona says.
Yes, you are.
And I don't have a penis but Danny has a penis and Daddy has a penis.
That's right.
Can you make me a penis? Um, no.

You're tired, sweetie, I tell Fiona, who is sick and has bags under her eyes.
I'm not tired. I'm a girl!

Is it 2 o'clock yet? We were going to a birthday party at 2 o'clock.

Just turn the clock to 2 o'clock, mom.

Dad, look, there's pork in this lollipop, Danny says. He had gotten to the center of a blow pop.

Watch out for the midget, Danny, Jim says after Owen tries to swipe his brother's lollipop.

Does your plate look like Danny's plate? I ask Fiona who still had some sandwich left on her plate. She then pulled the sandwich off the plate and presented it to me. Perhaps I should have been more specific.

No, no, no, don't close my [bedroom] door, Danny.  I had taken up my quiet time perch in the recliner with a clear view of the hallway.
I don't want you to see the mess we're making. Heavy sigh.

It's a light saber, I tell Danny as he's questioning me about the Star Wars section of the toy catalog.
Oh, it saves energy, he replies. He's never seen Star Wars. His innocence is just charming.

BULL CHIPS, Fiona is fond of saying.

Fiona is saying bitch, mommy, Danny reports. I found her wearing the witch hat and a huge grin saying, I'm a bwitch.

Please get my little spoon off my plate, Danny says. Huh? Who am I? Your freaking breakfast butler? Are you hands broken? I am always amazed at what he asks me to do for him.  

Owen is uncleaning, Danny squeals. 

1 comment:

Monica said...

omg. pork in the lollipop? THAT is hysterical. could be the key to making my kids stop wanting lollipops. ;o)