Friday, February 27, 2009

'Mama, you're the best!'

It was one of those days...

Me: 'A!'

A: 'Yes Mama.'

Me: 'Come upstairs please.'

A: 'Okay mama.'

I give her a shirt. 'We have to go to Giant.' ( Yes, I know that's all where I take you. Not to the park, not to the playground, not to play in the snow, or to ride your bike in summer- I take you to Giant, to CVS, to Target.)

A: 'Ohh!! I love Giant!' (uh-okay...love it? really? isn't that a rather strong word to use for a grocery store? Well, at least she has not started using 'hate' as fervently. At least not yet.)

A: 'We don't have any cereal, we can get some cereal.'

Me: 'Yes.'

A: 'And we don't have apple juice. Do we have apple juice?'

Me: 'No it finished.'

A: 'So, we can get apple juice. I like apple juice. And apples. Do we have apples?'

Me: 'I think we do.' (Do we? I have been procrastinating about getting groceries for a while...)

A: 'I don't think we do. We can check. But I checked in the banana hanging thing, and there weren't any apples. So, you can check in the banana hanging thing, and get apples. okay?'

I smile.

A: 'And we have to get fruit rollups! Don't forget fruit rollups! Grandma has fruit rollups and cookies.'

Me: 'Okay....' (Yeah I know Grandma's pantry and fridge actually carry things they are made for.)

A: 'And cereal straws. We don't have cereal straws. Grandma has cereal straws. We can get cereal straws. Heyyyy, where did the hamper go?'

Me: 'In the other room.' (Because its overflowing, and was getting in everyone's way, so I deal with it like I deal with any other problem in my life: I hide it, and pretend like its not there anymore.)

She laughs, 'Silly hamper!Where are my pants?'

Me: 'I'm looking for them.' I give her the only one that's not in the hamper.


A: 'Thankyou mama.' Starts struggling with the pants. 'It has a hole!!' (oh you noticed, eh?? Just wear'em kiddo, go with the flow! I hear they are back in fashion. Not that I would like her to follow this kind of fashion, but did I mention this is the only one not in the hamper or washer??)

To her I say: 'I can't find any other, baby.'

A: 'Oh, I like these pants!' (uh-oh. really?)

Me: 'Were you wearing socks?'

A: 'Yes. I took them off.'

Me: 'Where are they?'

She hands me one pink and one white.

Me: 'They don't match.'

A: 'Yes. One is mine, one is Z's.'

Me: 'But weren't you wearing these?'

A: 'Yes. You gave them to me.'

*sigh*

Me: 'Can you go find matching socks please?'

A: 'Okay.'

With Z in my arm, as I look through drawers for socks, hoping to find a decent pair of pants too, I feel bad for my kids. It was one of those days, when everything is waiting to be done - not enough grocery in the house, hampers overflowing, dishes towering in the sink... and I let these days come too often. I'm failing at this, I'm failing my kids.

'Mummaa' Z brings her face in front of mine. I look into her eyes.

'mmmwah!' a big, sloppy kiss that has the power to get not just my cheek but my eyes wet too.

A runs back in, 'Mama can you please close this button?'

I button up her pants, with a hole at the knee.

'Thanks Mama. You're the best!'

Really? Do you know there are moms out there who would not make their kid wear pants with holes, nor socks that do not match in size or color? Please don't find this out any time soon.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

'The Cow that says Mooo?'

'Old Mac Donald had a farm
Eeeii Eeeiii oooooo
And on his farm he had some cows
Eeeii Eeeii ooooo
With a Moo Moo here, and a Moo moo there...'

Somehow Old Mac Donald and his animals had found there way into my bath time routine with A, ever since her very first bath. Before she knew her alphabets, numbers or colors, she knew all her animal sounds.

Old Mac Donald's farm became one of her favorite places. Farm animals or not, all lived there happily meowing, woofing, roaring, tweeting, and mooing together.

The other day, while trying to keep A (who is now 3 and a half years old) awake in the car ride home, I showed her the tiger's face at a gas station.

'Roarrr!' she beamed. 'What does a tiger eat Papa?'

'Cows', answered my husband from the driver's seat.

'Noooooo', she started giggling as if it was a joke.

'But it does, baby.' He insisted.

'The cow that says "moooo"?' Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Somehow I had a feeling, she was not ready to understand the food chain yet. My husband got the message too.

'Oh look what a pretty car that is!' I changed the subject.

For now she forgot. For now, all is well at Old Mac Donald's farm.

Friday, February 20, 2009

'God is a girl!'

We were not talking about God. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about- dolls, teacups, being nice to her baby sister- but I know it was not about God.

I said something like, ‘That doesn’t make God happy. You want to make Him happy don’t you?’

And with a smile on her face, my 3 year old replied, ‘Its a girl!’

‘Who is a girl?’ I asked her, amused.

And with a know-it-all smile, she replied, ‘God is a girl!’

‘How do you know?’

‘I just know it!’

Well, if she knows it, then what am I to say to a 3 year old, who is proud to be a girl, and is learning that God is the most important being- more powerful than all the superheroes she know. She will learn on her own, or maybe I will.

The Car of my Choice

I have never liked the shape of minivans. They are neither sedans, nor SUVs. I like big muscle cars. Or sleek sport cars. Minivans remind me of lizards. I hate lizards.

So, this past weekend when we went car shopping, I did not want a minivan. The sedans were not big enough for a family with/who is planning to have more than 2 kids, and the SUVs did not look safe. Trust me, I tried hard to convince myself that they are safe, but if one of my kids has to sit in the third row, I would feel guilty sitting in the driver's seat with all the airbags around me.

Finally when we looked at a minivan, I understood. This was what we needed, if I wanted to have more than the two kids I have now. I looked at the SUVs, I looked at the sporty cars, and realized I would have to wait. For now I am a mom, and no other car looks better than a minivan.