Oh the humanity!

Today I discovered that we have some very compassionate little girls. Maybe not with each other, but towards us anyway. (I wonder how long that will last?)

Compassion Story #1: [WARNING: some mildly graphic content]
This morning I was in the bathroom waxing my under-arms. [Pause to wince.] Lacie was way too enthralled by this mysterious process to heed my suggestions that she might find interest elsewhere (e.g. "Get out!"). Being fairly new to this, I am not yet hardened enough to not cry out in pain while ripping the hairs out by the roots from that rather sensitive area. In fact, I usually make Mark rip the first strip off, being too cowardly to start it off myself. Such was the scene this morning, but with Lacie witnessing the process.
After that first rip and consequential scream, Lacie looked at me in horror and asked what I was doing & why. I tried explaining while continuing on in my process, but was interrupted by Lacie yelling,
"Don't do it, Mom! Don't hurt yourself! Don't do it! Don't do it!"
First I kinda laughed, thinking it was so sweet. But I quickly realized I had better stop because she was almost in tears over hearing me yelp.
So cute, and yet, a little bit annoying seeing as I was only partly done!


Compassion Story #2:
I was sitting on the couch, reading a book to the girls when Mark came up and thought he'd be funny nibbling on Lacie's foot. She didn't find it funny. She started crying and told me Daddy had bitten her.
The background on this is that biting has been a small problem for Lacie recently. It hasn't happened very often, but when it has we always tell her sternly, "We don't bite." Then she gets hot sauce in her mouth to remind her mouth to behave.
So after Mark bit Lacie I turned to him with the same, though mock, sternness and said, "Daddy, we don't bite. Do you need hot sauce to remind you?" Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have said that in front of the kids. In my defense, I don't think it's fair to have double-standards. Anyway. Mark immediately apologized and then even agreed that maybe he did need some hot sauce. Oh did that ever set the girls off!
"Is Daddy going to get hot sauce?"
"Is he going to have hot sauce or fire?"
"Are you going to give it to him?"
"Is Daddy in trouble?"
and on and on. So Mark dutifully goes to the kitchen and gives himself some hot sauce. Then he proceeds to contort his face to show the pain and suffering involved in this act. Meanwhile the kids jump off the couch and RUN to him saying,
"Drink some milk! Drink some milk!"
Poor Daddy. I can't be sure, but judging on how fast Lacie ran to her father's aid I think it's safe to say her foot was feeling much better.

teaching them RIGHT

With everything going on in the government right now I wonder constantly what is to become of our country? What does it mean for my family? What can I possibly do to prevent? protect? avoid?
My conclusion is that my biggest influence will be on my own children, so I need to make sure I'm teaching them the best I can. So for the 4th of July we're going to attend the Tea Party at the South Fork Ranch. Pretty dang excited.
Naturally I've been thinking about what to wear, so I started looking for ideas online.
While looking at conservative t-shirts I came across this:



Lacie came over and looked at it, looked at me, pointed to a gun, and said,
"I don't have one of those. I need one of those."

Andrea, on the other hand, saw a picture of the President and said,
"That's Obama! He's very foolish, isn't he Mom? He wants to take away my money."


Yay! Glad to be doing my part!

-isms

Andrea: Ew! That smells disgusting!
Mark: What does?
Lacie: My diaper.

------

Andrea hops up on the counter...
Andrea: Mom, do you know how I got up here?
Me: You climbed up?
Andrea: Well, it's a bit of a long story.

Huh

Lacie just walked in to tell/show me that she had broken her glasses.
Pretty amazing feat to accomplish while you're asleep.
oh wait...

Beyond her age

Driving in the car today Andrea told me:

"Laughing is the greatest part of my life."


I'm still in awe.

-isms

Andrea: "If we have none food, we will have to go to the forest and eat a deer."
(Lacie's face has a look of horror)


Lacie: (arranges all her broccoli in a heap) "Look, a Christmas tree!"


Lacie: "Look, Mom, Hyrum is reading a book!"
uh huh... it's not suspicious at all that she was seen hefting the 5-lb. book that is now plopped on top of my poor baby!

Spelling Time with Andrea

How many can you translate correctly?

a) Flawr
b) Mash Butadoe
c) Bred
d) Sirup
e) Froot
f) Casrol
g) Pankcaycks
h) Chips
i) Rols
j) Budr

Answers:
a) flower
b) mashed potatoes
c) bread
d) syrup
e) fruit
f) casserole
g) pancakes
h) chips
i) rolls
j) butter

Puppy

I'm playing 'Fetch' right now with my 3 yr old who is pretending to be a dog.
It feels so wrong.
We're even using a stick she got from outside.
Wrong.

Lacie's friend

It broke my heart yesterday when Lacie told me she didn't have any friends. We don't get out much and yeah, Andrea can be pretty mean some times.
Today Lacie demonstrated her desperation when she resorted to playing 'Tag' with a Roly-Poly (aka pill bug, potato bug).
Mark found her putting her finger in the path of the bug and then when it bumped into her she'd say, "Tag, you're it!"

So funny. So sad.

Happy Birthday?

This morning we were all required to sing a rousing round of "Happy Birthday" to Dorothy.
Who is Dorothy?
Our fish.
Is it her birthday?
Mmmm, according to Andrea, though, we've only actually had her a couple of months.
That said, it is quite an accomplishment that Dorothy has survived these last couple months considering how Lacie likes to look "with her nose," poke and shake the tank. Oh, and likes to improve her diet with tortilla chips, bread crumbs, jell-o, and candle wax. Yum.

Mail

DER MOM
u HAYT Me
I AM THE 1 Hooz BeeING
MeN MOM I DIST
FOT DAT u HAYT Me
LOVE CRIeNG ANDREA
AND MOM

Translation:
Dear Mom,
you hate me.
I am the one who's being
mean. Mom, I just
thought that you hate me.
Love, Crying Andrea
and Mom*


*all her notes end with "and Mom." Not sure why.

The most loving kid

Lacie is unbelievable. She is truly the most loving/lovable kid ever. She's a pill, to be sure, but a loving pill. She just wants to love and be loved. Well... and torture Andrea, annoy Hyrum, swipe binkys, shake Dorothy (our fish), change clothes every 10 minutes, watch "Caillou," jump on her bed, sneak into my bed, stockpile toothbrushes, draw on Barbies, play with Thomas, drink any canned beverage she can get her hands on, copy her big sister, and in general just wreak havoc wherever she goes.
Still. What other 3 yr old lets you rock her to sleep? And has since birth? Or constantly walks around saying, "Mom? I love you, Mom."
She gives the best hugs. She'll still give me kisses. She will NEVER leave you hanging when you say 'I love you' to her -- even if it means a 5 min-long conversation of nothing but,
"I love you."
"I love you."
"And I love you."
"I love you, too."
etc.


Today she snuggled up to me and asked, "Mom, will you be my friend forever?"

When I told Mark about it, he told me she'd said something similar to him earlier:
"Dad, will you still love me when I'm different sizes?"

MELT MY HEART.

This morning

This morning I decided I wanted to ride a bike, so I pulled out the cute, pink one and got it all ready. Of course, as soon as I did Molly decided SHE wanted to ride it. Since it was hers, I had to concede. I tried out another (blue) bike, but it was too wobbly to ride. So I decided I'd ask my dad if I could borrow his white bike. He said no. Blast! I asked again. No. Double blast!
I skulked over to the banquet hall where they were getting ready for the big presentation. Dad's right-hand man wanted to show us something. We followed him to the back lot into creaky, aluminum shed.There he showed us some really sadistic pigs lined up behind and around a fire ring doing something I won't go into because it's disturbing. Enough so that I left. But not before asking Dad if I could use his bike again. Still no.
Once I got back to the banquet hall I asked Dad's secretary if the pigs meant he was going to change business to making sausages. She showed me the pork sliced-meat packages and told me he was going to be crazy rich. Someone else agreed.
At this point Mark reminded me that there were a bunch of old, rusty phones in the back room, and that I should get the company to use them. I sold my dad on it, pointing out that if you were arm-deep in pig, you couldn't use a cell phone very easily. The phone system was immediately installed. I started walking around, trying to memorize the newly assigned room numbers (corresponding to the phone system). Suddenly, the boss and his rather large daughter came in and the three of us sat down at a table. The daughter was excited about her pregnancy, when the cooks let it slip that she had taken a vacation around the time that she started getting morning sickness. Things started clicking into place and her husband realized she had cheated on him with one of his friends. They got into a physical brawl while the three of us remained at the table, arguing. But what I was really mad about was the fact that I had specifically written words for our song. The problem was, I couldn't remember them, so when I looked down at my cheat sheet I realized how much they had been ad-libbing. They ended up skipping over an entire stanza that I had taken much care to cleverly put together.
And I was so mad I just woke up.

-ism

Me: "Just look, don't touch."
Lacie: "I'm just looking with my nose."

-ism

Me: "Andrea, do you want to make a craft tonight?"
Andrea: "Yes! We can make a toilet and put it in my room so I don't have to use yours!"
...
Me: "What are you going to make the toilet with?"
Andrea: "This." [points to a bunch of confetti]
Me: "Well, is it going to flush?"
Andrea: "Course."
Me: "Where will the water go?"
Andrea: "Ummm, somewhere creative and not-boring."