Sunday, November 30, 2008


I have decided at long last to complete the I Spy Bags that I purchased supplies for 6ish years ago. I have a better design now and a deadline.

But I have also decided to use a picture card with the words underneath so my non-readers can play without driving me crazy asking "What now?" (cause any mother in the world will tell you that they just won't be able to look and see what they see. No, if there is a list, and they'll know there is a list even if they can't read it, they will want to find what is on the list, which if there are no pictures, will require bothering mommy every minute which kind of defeats the purpose of handing them the bag and saying, "Please play quietly.").

However, if I put a picture of a pink hand on the card and my youngest cannot find a pink hand because the hand in her bag is red not pink, tantrums will be thrown (and again, if I can avoid a battle with a child who only because of her age is not quite up to logically thinking*, then I will do so).

So I have gone to the extra effort of photographing every color of every object and will be making every effort to ensure that the color that is on the card is in the bag, because, although I plan to sell these at the Market Day in my town and not keep them for my own neurotic children, I am a mother and am considerate of the potential pitfalls we mothers face every day.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Tree

At 8:45 pm, as I was trying to get her to go up the stairs to bed, P said, "But what about the tree? We didn't do the tree."

And in my perfect little world we wouldn't but the tree up until after my oldest's birthday (3 days before Christmas) and it would be down before the youngest's (5 days after Christmas).

Just call me Scrooge. But the endless buildup to Christmas wears me out. By the time Christmas actually arrives, I'm ready to take the tree down as the kids are unwrapping presents. And don't even think about leaving it up past the first of the year.

And it's not just the tree. Everything must be put away before January 1. Not on January 1. BEFORE. I cannot enter a new year with the trappings of the old one still hanging around.

But if she remembers tomorrow, I might just allow The Hubby and the kids to put the tree up. So long as I don't have to help.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008


Today M (child #2, age 8) asked what we would be eating on Thursday.

"Um, turkey." I replied.
"What about the roast beef? We always have roast beef."
"Um, no we don't." What Thanksgiving has she been going to, I'm thinking.
"Yes, we do." I'm sure she's thinking, Where have you been , Mom.

I cannot convince her that we have never had roast beef at Thanksgiving. Perhaps she is confusing it with Christmas when we usually do a ham, but either way she is sure there should be roast beef.

So to please my nearly protein-phobic 2nd child, this year there will be roast beef next to the turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Friday, November 21, 2008


The youngest of my five children, who we will call P for the purposes of this blog, has a few obsessive tendencies. She must put her clothes on in a specific order - panties (and don't call them underwear, you will insult her), pants, shirt, socks - or a melt down will ensue. I'm really not sure if I should just go with it or try to change it, but really she's 3 and the youngest of 5, so yeah I just go with it.

Her chocolate milk must also be made in a certain way. First you pour in the clean milk (that's just milk, but she must distinguish between clean milk and milk that we may have spiked with any medicine she may need at the moment but refuses to take) and then add the powder and stir with a spoon. If she sees you make it another way, she will refuse to drink it. Again, not sure if it's good for her future mental health to let this continue, but yeah, 3, 5, pick your battles.

Except . . . .

When she's not in the kitchen to see how I make her chocolate milk . . . .

I put the powder in first and then the milk . . . . and I laugh a slightly evil laugh.