Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Cereal Bar Standoff

I often thank the good Lord He saw fit to have me teach for a while before I had children.  Believe it or not, teenagers and toddlers are not that different.  For that matter, teenagers and four-year-olds are not that different, either.  Who knew those eight years of figuring out who was chewing gum, who had the cell phone that was ringing, and who actually threw the paper wad would all pay off some day?

Her Majesty doesn't like breakfast, an it is a struggle to get her to eat anything other than Cheeze-its or, say, a bowl of shredded cheddar.  This morning I fixed chocolate milk and handed her a cereal bar.  She gamely ate two thirds of the cereal bar and drank about three quarters of the milk before trying to hand both back to me.  I said, "You need to finish your breakfast.  Then I'll get you some blueberries."

Normally the promise of blueberries would inspire great feats like lifting one end of an Escalade, but today? Nothing.  I walked over to the chair and saw that she had neither cereal bar nor milk.  My eyes shifted to the breakfast room table where the sippy cup of milk sat across from the trash can.  My eyes narrowed.

"Lorelai, did you put your cereal bar in the trash can?"

[In the distance a lonely western whistle. Tumbleweeds float across the living room behind me.]

She cocked her head to one side. "Did you SEE the cereal bar in the trash can?"

My eyebrows leaped up to my hair line because I no longer had to see to believe.  "Did. You. Put. Your. Cereal bar. In. The. Trash. Can?"

Her eyes shifted to the left. "Yes."

I blow away the figurative smoke from my figuratively smoking six shooter and break out the standard mom lectures on the importance of a) not lying to/misleading your mother and b) eating breakfast.  Today I won the showdown of truth and cereal bars.

But tomorrow I may not be so lucky.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Her Majesty: The Musical


So, yesterday afternoon was fun.  Her Majesty decided to sing all of her responses between one and three.  It started in the potty. (italics indicate song)

Me:  You okay in there?
Her Majesty: Yes, but I have to poooottt-ttteeeee.
Me: You gonna let me know when you’re done? (A question I asked because there was a plunger in that bathroom. And I was deeply concerned.)
Her Majesty: I am done, I am done, but now I have to wiiiiiiipe my bot….tom.
Me: O….kay
Her Majesty: I have wiped my booty-booty, and I now I MUST…..wash my hands, wash my hands, wash my hands.

Then, she started singing about snack time:

Me: Okay, little lady, what do you want for your snack?
Her Majesty: (in an almost Figaro-like melody) Blueberries, blueberries, blue…ber….RIES!!!!

And then as she played with her new Princess Leia doll:

Her Majesty:  Now you need your man look, your man look, your man look.  Then you’ll wear that girl look, that girl look, or THAT….girl….look.

(And for those of you wondering, Leia’s “man look” is the sweat suit looking outfit she wears on Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back. The “girl look” includes any and everything from the infamous bikini to one of her other dresses.)

Sunday, January 9, 2011

A Typical Kilpatrick Sunday

Things get tense in the Kilpatrick house when The Hobbit is signed up for sports.

First, he inherited absolutely no athletic ability from his mother.  Second, his introverted nature is such that his natural inclination is to shy away from large groups of people, a tendency that does not bode well for sports like soccer and basketball.  In the meantime, Ryan and I have to wrestle with Her Majesty who can't understand why the spotlight isn't on her.  Today's refrain was, "I'm hungry. Why can't I have a snack?"  No matter how many times I pointed out to her that only the athletes had snacks, she persisted in her need for a Capri Sun and some Cheeze-its. 

So, while Ryan clutched the Flip and I wrestled with Her Majesty, Connor sat out the first part of the game.  Then the second.  Finally, as the opposing team put their first string back in, he got to enter the game.  As the only guy among girls.  Suffice to say, he didn't have a great first basketball practice/game.  On the way home, a general discussion about his surly attitude led to a discussion of gratitude.

Me:  You've got to start focusing on what you have instead of what you don't have.

The Hobbit:  (with curled lip) What does that have to do with anything?

Me:  [insert typical mother's rant here about children who don't have food, clothing or shelter much less enough toys for a small specialty shop] So, you can see you have a lot to be grateful for.  There are a lot of children in this country who are going hungry tonight.

Her Majesty:  Like me!

Me: (under my breath):  Help me, Jesus.

Her Majesty:  Oh, He will.  I'll make Him help you!

And, thanks to the littlest one, the tension evaporated into laughter.  Now all are fed and sassy, and I'm left to contemplate how Her Majesty got a direct line to the Big Guy. 

Well, and to wonder what possessed me to sign the oldest child up for basketball.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Resolutions for the New Year

Actually, I've decided against resolutions.  The word is so unyielding and unforgiving.  Resolute.  It's the kind of word that makes you feel as though you might as well give up on your best intentions if you mess up even in the slightest way.

So, I have goals for 2011.  One of my goals is to add a new post to my blog at least once a week.  Another is to join Weight Watchers and to get my self straightened out.  Still another is to revise Beulah and submit to a minimum of 50 editors/agents as well as writing a new entry for this year--already halfway plotted.  Of course, there are home goals, too.  Some of those goals revolve around keeping the house cleaner.  Others revolve around being a better wife and mother.

So, what about you?  Any goals for 2011?