Freaks

"Daddy said when school got out you were going to turn into a cleaning freak.  Are we starting that today?" -Libby

Yes. Yes we are.

Wronged

A conversation between Peyton and I....

"Mom, when I saw my friend at the store his mom and my mom pulled us away from each other and we couldn't say hi to each other."

"Oh. What?"

"When I saw my friend at the store his mom and my mom pulled us away from each other and we couldn't say hi to each other."

"Wait. Who pulled you away?"

"My mom.  You.  You pulled me away and I didn't get to say hi."

"I did?  What store?"

"Fred Meyer."

"What friend?"

"Orion."

"When?"

"Seven days ago."

"Oh. Sorry. You mad at me?"

"No.  It's alright."

I guess she just needed me to know.

Headstrong Hundreds

If Peyton was upset when she was little she'd throw herself down and head butt the floor.  Even if the floor was a concrete slab.  Our pediatrician wasn't concerned when I asked her about it.  She told me, "She's not going to be anyone's doormat.  Count yourself lucky.  Some kids smear their feces." Ew.

Last week I was in Peyton's classroom and a classmate of hers told me that "she's a little bit mean." I asked her what Peyton had done.  She just repeated "she's a little bit mean."  I explained that if Peyton knew what she'd done maybe she should apologize.  Again, her classmate told me just that "she's a little bit mean."  Alrighty, then.  I asked Peyton.  Genuinely clueless.  So I asked Peytie's teacher if she's being mean to this particular kid and she answered, "Peyton isn't mean to anyone.  And she takes guff from no one." Ah. Okay.

Tonight, this:

"Mom, I have 100 and another 100.  How much is that?"

"200."

"No, you don't understand.  I have 100 plus 100.  How much is that?"

"200."

"Moooooommeeeeeeeeeey! You don't know what I meeeeeean. I have 100 and 100.  How much is that?"

"Babe.  I'm sorry.  It's 200."

"MOMMY! YOU DON'T GET WHAT I MEAN!  I DON'T MEAN 100 PLUS 2 MORE.  I MEAN 100 MORE!"

"Yeah.  I got that. 100 plus two more is actually 102.  100 plus another 100 is two hundred."  I went and got base ten pieces to show her. "See?"  100 and 100.  200.

(grabbing the pieces from me) "No!  Mommy!  Look! 1, 2, 3, 4..........(deep breathing from me)...........98, 99, 100.  See? And if I have both of these (holding two AT me in desperation) how much is that?

At this point I'm trying so hard to stifle my giggles because the only thing I know for sure is what she DOES NOT want to hear and frankly, I got nothin' else.  Also, I spent all day with 27 kids who were converting fractions to decimals and percents before putting them in order.  Many of them didn't try to understand fractions AT ALL so it's not lost on me that I should be ecstatic that Peyton wants so desperately to understand this. She's hungry for it.  She's going out-of-her-mind to try to get it. It's the sort of grit I beg my students to have.  And then, (again)

"200."

"Mommy!!! Look! 1, 2, 3, 4, ......(Oh. Em. Jee., not again).........97, 98, 99, 100."

"Yes."

"101, 102, 103, 104, .........(we're really doing this.  With a significant amount of help this time)................196, 197, 198, one hundred ninety-niiiiiiiiiine.............."

"200."

"MOMMY!"

"Alrighty. Bedtime."

(sobs) "I JUST WANT TO SNUGGLE WITH YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU!"

"That I can do."

Amish?

This on the way to school this morning....

Libby:  Mom, tell me again how I'm French and Amish.

Me: K.......um....wait, what?

Frozen

My friends who have daughters are posting Frozen references on facebook one after another.  They're going to see the movie for the first time, or the fourth time.  They're singing the soundtrack, and planning themed birthday parties.  They're linking to Youtube covers of the songs and looking forward to Idina Menzel on tomorrow night's Oscars.

Us too.  I downloaded Let It Go and use it as the girls' morning alarm.  We sing it on the ride to school. Tonight the girls built an ice bridge out of pillows in the living room.  Then, while they danced together in the "snow" Peyton said, "Let's pretend our mom and dad died."

Awesome.

Q

Peyton and I are sitting together working on this week's homework packet. She has to come up with different words that start with certain letters. Like this....

Me: Q, babe. What word starts with q?

Peytie: qu...qu... Quelephant.

Me: Yes. Alright, then. Quelephant. Write that down. 

Lucky?

I'd like to think that I've played a small role in helping the girls become smart consumers. But this morning I can't help think I'm just the world's biggest buzzkill.....

"There isn't actually magic in every charm."  -Libby 

Dinner Drama

Libby didn't like her dinner tonight and had a momentary meltdown about it. Shane tried to convince her it was delicious, but she wasn't having it. When he asked her why she was crying about it she said (through tears), "I don't knooooow. I just can't hold my tears in and I don't know the reason whyyyyyy....."

Silence. Then, "Wow. That was a pretty good explanation."

I'm glad he thinks so. 'Cause, you know, welcome to womanhood, right?

Literary Critics

Today was a bit of a mess.  The mess actually started yesterday morning when Peyton's socks didn't feel right and then it ruined our lives.  Today's meltdown was louder, longer and, from what I can gather, had something to do with her pants not fitting just so. My day seemed to draaaaaag on forever. Peyton's after-school-attitude wasn't much improved from the morning and when I went to by my lottery ticket to win $636,000,000, I missed the cutoff by "30 seconds" according to the clerk.  Right after he sold tickets to the people in front of me.  He then proceeded to tell me I should've come earlier.  Yeah.  I got that.

Grrrr....

Sigh.

Tonight, after laundry and laying down expectations with Peyton I was sorta done.  So, I asked Shane if he'd read the girls their bedtime story.  He agreed.  Shane and I consider different criteria when picking bedtime stories for our girls.  I look for stories with well developed characters; ones we might even be able to relate to, and interesting story lines with great voice.  A little over-their-head humor is a total bonus.  Shane looks for stories that are short. Tonight, his first comment after giving Peyton's book pick the once-over was "This looks really long."

The book was Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes.  It's such a good book.

About half way through, though, I called him out for racing through the story and not reading any of the captions.  Then Libby added, "Yeah, and why are you, like.....YELLING?  Is it because you can't hear yourself?"  I mean, I think she might be onto something....

Mammals

Peyton: Mom, are mammals the ones with hair?

Me: Yes. 

Peyton: Are we mammals?

Me: Yes.

Peyton: So Grandpa Dad isn't a mammal?

How do you solve a problem like.......this one?

Today Peyton is insisting that I have five more babies. Two boys and three more girls.  I'm thinking maybe I underestimated the impact of The Sound of Music.  Also, much to her dismay, we aren't immediately getting a bigger house or a butler.  Crushing their Christmas wishes early over here....

Warning: Poop Talk (TMI)

Libby: "There was no toilet paper in the bathroom at school today.  I like the kind of poops where it just comes out hard and there is nothing left behind."

Amen sister.  Can I get a Hallelujah?

Also, Libby is about to turn seven.  I just reread this and realized poop talk, like a lot of things, becomes less cute the older they get.

Oy.  Seven years.

Peytie-isms

This morning while I was in my bathroom getting ready for school Peyton stormed in and said, "MOM!  LIBBY SHOVED MY FACE!!!"

I gave my best horrified gasp and said, "Why would she do that?"

"Um.....she didn't like the thing that was in her face."

"Was the thing that was in her face your face?"

(Opening my sweater and tucking her face inside) "I just want to snuggle."

Also this:

"Mommy you scared me so much that it made my tummy suck in!"



November 23, 2013 Update:

I took Peyton's class yesterday for a few minutes while Ms. Silver got her picture taken in the gym.  My kids were working on a writing/art assignment, so while they worked I read a story to the kinders.  I love getting to interact with my babies and their friends in their (somewhat) natural habitat.

This morning Peyton rolled over in bed next to me and in her sleepy state she asked, "Mom, do you think I could make your fourth graders laugh if I wanted to?"

Hmm..... It appears someone may be setting the stage to debut as class clown....

It Matters More About Love

"It matters more about love" is something Peyton says regularly.  It's not a statement, but a question, really.  When she says it she's trying to gauge the present situation.  What she really wants to know is that no matter the topic, love is more important, right?  It can be anything.  Tonight, when I asked her how long she brushed and she replied with, "half of what's in the timer", I reminded her that this is exactly half of the time that she's expected to brush.  I lectured on like any good parent about how her teeth are an important part of her and so it would serve her well to keep them.  Brushing well will accomplish this.... yada yada yada....  Also, I knew she rushed just so she could get her mitts on the iPad.  Grrrrr. I'm a fan of my iPad, except for the part about how it's killing everything good about society as we know it.  I practiced some self control and did not start in on that lecture.  As she shuffled her buns to the bathroom to put her flouride away she asked, "It mattuhs more about love than wotten teeth, wight mom?"

I mean, it's true.  I'd love her no matter which part of her was wotten....

Making Connections

Kids learn by making connections to things they already know.  So you can imagine how I swelled with pride when a minute ago Peyton said, "Mom, when Grunny toots it sounds like a train is stopping."

Tru dat.  Also, we live with the gassiest animal on the planet, and I don't mean Shane.  Or me, for that matter....

Mad Skillz

I'm sitting with Peyton tonight doing her homework packet and she says, "You're really good at this. You should be a teacher."

Huh. Now there's an idea.

Baaaaaaa

Yesterday when I picked her up Libby told me a boy at school wiped a booger on her desk.  "Um.....that's gross." I said.  Then she said he also wiped ear wax on her chair.  "He sounds charming."  I had to giggle a little because this sounds like any story by anybody who ever went to school.  When I asked her how she'd responded it was all over her face why a kid in her class might pick her as the target of his disgusting displays of boyishness. She blows up like a fourth of July fireworks display.  I mean, she attempts a pokerface, but the kid has got nothin'.  No skill at hiding how she really feels.  In the end we decided next time she could get up, hand him a tissue and go back to work.  I actually thought of some great comebacks, but maybe a snarky approach isn't the best approach in first grade.  Anyway, I told her I believed that he's "gettin' your goat", and (again) we must try our best to not let others light our fuses.

A girl in her class pushed her buttons today and it was reported to me by the student teacher that Libby was very patient in a frustrating situation.  She said Libby told her, "I know how to deal with that.  I have a little sister."

The best though came tonight at dinner while Peyton was doing her best to get under Libby's skin by leaning into her as we sat at the kitchen island.  Always my firecracker Libby yelled, "PEYTON!  STOP KICKING MY GOAT!"

Ballin'

Libby's teacher has been sending books home for Peyton's "homework" which is really so sweet.  Peyton feels like a big girl and loves it.  Here's hoping that enthusiasm holds up next year.  Tonight though, while we read, I realized we have some work to do when she couldn't identify the names of common balls.  She called them....

a "batball"

a "baseball"

 We'll call this "the blank stare"

To her credit she did correctly identify a golf ball and a soccer ball.  But this one was my absolute favorite.  She called this....are you ready?

a "dog ball"

Sometimes I'm so head over heels for that kid.  I can't even believe she's mine.  But then, she's always been this kid.

Too Tight

"Mom, do you know how I know that I gwew last night?"

"How?"

"My unduhwah is too tight."

This from the same kid who just said, "Mom, can you help me get outta this box?  I was twying to pwactice my back float and now my head is stuck."

Always a Little Sistah

Peyton: "Mom, even when yah a gwamah, will you still be a little sistah?"

"Yep, Babe.  Even then."

Happy 42nd birthday to my big sistah today....