And The "Gross Gene" Kicks In

The Gross Gene has switched on officially, as of today. Wonder Boy... my cute little guy... is just nasty. I knew the change was coming soon because he has been picking his nose for weeks now. Today, however, he decided that he no longer needed a tissue. He ate the fruit of his mining labors.

Ewwwwww!

The Resurrection

I could go so many places with this post. But I want to specifically address the redemption of our Good Friday disaster.

Last night we continued in our catechism efforts. Let it not be said that I threw my hands up in the air and thus encouraged my children to become unrepentant, atheistic axe murderers. No. We've been talking about the fact that our desire to know God is a built-in need, common to all human beings. We hunger to know Him and that, despite our efforts to feed that hunger with other things, only He can fill us. We talked about the importance of being able to tell others exactly what we believe, the "reason for our hope." We talked about the Apostle's Creed and some of the specific phrases in it. There was no talk of zombies rising from the dead. There was, however, some drawing of Super Duck saving the day from Evil Sheep... evil sheep with horrible, gnashing teeth and bat wings by the Free Spirit. It was, I think, a successful evening for all.

Good Friday Disaster

There we were at the dinner table. We were unable to go to services because they were starting too late for the Littles to go - and, of course, we really don't take Wonder Boy to church right now anyway. So, DH and I decide that going through the Stations of the Cross as a family would be a good idea. I had the papers they both brought home from their respective Religious Education classes the week before and thought that would be just right. About 20 minutes, tops. A little explanation here and there.

I was in the middle of trying to explain to the 6yo about the Resurrection and that Jesus "was dead, but then He came back to life" and what does the 11.5yo contribute? "Yeah! A zombie!"

I wanted to ground him until his 30th birthday. That's great. My kid is equating the Resurrection to a freaking zombie!!!!!!!!!

I guess teaching standard prayers, sending them to RE classes, blessing them as they go to school, praying when we encounter emergency vehicles, praying before meals, praying/blessing before bedtimes, and having a holy water font (usually filled) are woefully short of adequate when it comes to imparting our faith.

Dinner Impossible

It was truly impossible at our house tonight. My best laid plans were for naught. Read on.

Tired of the daily question "what's for dinner," I had thought ahead and pulled out a chicken & stuffing dish from our freezer. It was clearly marked with temperature and baking time. I pulled it out early this morning and thawed it well before we needed to cook. I noted that it was about time to bake, so I made cornbread. Cornbread done, my attention turned to placing the chicken in the oven. Simple, really. I even gave it an extra few minutes uncovered to get the stuffing nice and crispy and golden brown. The kids set the table, the baby was fed and had a toy, the toddler was in his high chair eagerly awaiting his dinner delight. The serving spoon parted the lovely stuffing crust...

... only to find a watery, undercooked mess underneath. Oh, dear friend, it's true. My well-thought out dinner was a waste. I'm not sure what went wrong - I'll have to consult the recipe I used when I was stocking up the freezer with tasty eats. This was not, I repeat not, a tasty eat. It was not even edible. It was, I dare say (because it's my own cooking), revolting to behold.

I pulled out a bag of unspectacular ravioli and the kids ate corn muffins while I hurried to pull together some kind of entree. They looked rather pathetic... the children, that is... so I tossed them a few fruit cups. That bought me a few precious moments to finish the Plan B meal.

How was Plan B, you ask? Thoroughly bland and not unlike eating spinach with a dirty gym sock for flavor.

This was truly a culinary mission I failed to accomplish. There's always tomorrow.

How Many Times, Revisited

How many times can a toddler see Toy Story and Toy Story 2 before Mommy has a breakdown rivaled only by Buzz Lightyear in his Mrs. Nezbit tea-partying phase?

How many times can a toddler squeeze a peanut butter sandwich before it no longer resembles a sandwich?

Extra Credit Questions:
How many minutes will elapse before the peas a baby ate suddenly appear on her dress?
How many versions of Mr. Potatohead can you come up with?

Solids and Plane Figures

Today's exchanges in Toddlerese included:

"baybay!"
"What sweetie?"
"BAYBAY!"
"The baby?"
"Ahhh! BAYBAY!!!" (At this point, Wonder Boy is shrieking and kicking in his carseat... rather vigorously I might add.)
"OH! You see an AIRPLANE!?"
"uh" (This is toddlerese for "yes.")

And let's not forget:

"tootootay byebye"
"Yes, the choo choo trains are all gone." (A main road leading to/from our town runs parallel to the BNSF railroad.)
"TooToo ByeBye!!!"
"Yes... the trains are gone."
"TOOTOO AhDuh!"
"YES. The choo choos are all bye bye. They're gone, honey."
"TOO!TOO! TAY!!!...."
"Hey, you wanna get some french fries?" (This is my lame attempt at redirection while driving.)
"uh"

And Mystery Baby has begun the joyous journey to Eating Solids. (shudder) This phase of babyhood has pretty much worn out its appeal. With the first two kids, we always commented on how cute they were as they spewed more cereal out than we shoveled in. With the third one, well... we were just happy if he ate anything. (#$%^$# reflux) Mystery Baby... well... she could stay on a liquid diet and that would suit me just fine... except I NEED some sleep. Maybe if we expand her dietary horizons, she will stuff herself silly and sleep. Just a little. Hey, a mommy can dream, right?

Mommy - the Human Napkin

My Dearest Friend summed up the purpose of motherhood in the early years. I felt compelled to share it with the world.

Mommies are walking, talking napkins.

I like to think of my clothing as my memo board. Our Fearless Leader gets home from a long day at the office and asks what we did. All I have to do is look down:

*We played with sidewalk chalk.
*We ate a snack.
*We took care of a runny nose.
*We ate lunch.
*We went for a walk... through a lot of dirt.
*We ate another snack.
*We helped with homework.
*We made dinner.
*We ate dinner.
*We took a bath... well... the kids did.

Someday, I will miss these Wash & Wear days.