The other day we were in the car, when my daughter looked up from the book she was reading and asked, “Mom, what does vulgar mean?”
I replied, “Well, it means bad. Like dirty bad.”
Then my son jumped in the conversation, and simultaneously brought it to an abrupt end when he proudly said, “I’m vulgar!”
I hear a lot of parents say it’s a problem to get their kids in bed, and to keep them there during the night.
As a matter of fact, my nine year old daughter was a perfect example of this. She slept with us for roughly eight months as an infant, and once she moved to her own room it certainly didn’t stop her from reappearing in ours…all the time.
I think half of my insomnia issues come from her dark figure hovering silently over me as I slept. There isn’t much that startles you more than waking from a deep sleep to see someone’s shadowy outline two inches above your face. Because her nightly visits scared the poo out of me, I simply chose to stay awake all night.
But, our son? Well, he’s always a different story. We can’t get him out of bed. AT ALL. He knows he’s allowed, and as a matter of fact we’ve bribed him to do it. But, he won’t. I’m not just talking about middle-of-the-night-need-to-go-to-the-bathroom stuff either, he won’t even budge once the sun comes up.
Instead, he will lie in bed and read or play. If he has to go to the bathroom, he will call me. In the morning, I yell upstairs for him to come down. It is only then that he will emerge from his lair.
I would like nothing better than for him to get out of bed and go downstairs to watch cartoons with his sister, while I get to sleep in on a Saturday morning. Who has to beg their six year old to watch Tom and Jerry and eat sugary cereal when Mom’s not around? I do.
We have taken away computer games, TV, and the Wii, but it’s still not working. The other day, he spent all his free time playing with my laundry basket.
Tonight he doesn’t get to take books or toys with him to bed, which means he won’t have anything to play with when he wakes up.
Though with my luck, he’ll probably be just as happy talking to the wall…and since he’s making me looney I might just join him.
Boys and girls, please tell me…what do your kids do that makes you crazy?
It’s no secret that I am not a good cook. Because the past week has been pretty crazy around here, I haven’t made it to the grocery store…which means I’ve had to get creative at mealtime. I like to call it hodge-podge cooking. I pull together whatever I can to make a nutritious, and usually bland, plate of food.
Yesterday after the funeral, a local church provided lunch for us. When we were finished, the ladies who had prepared the meal tried to insist that my Mom take all the leftovers home.
My Mom replied, “No, it’s just me at home. Take it to a shelter or retirement home, because I don’t need all this food”.
Then my nine year old piped up from across the table and said, “Take it and give it to us! This is the most decent lunch I’ve had in a long time!”
After nearly three hours at my daughter’s softball game this afternoon, my six year old son started getting a little restless. He finished off some popcorn, a sucker and a snowcone before I ran out of money for food.
So, I did what any parent would do and I told him to play in the dirt.
I bent to the ground and picked up a rock. Then I demonstrated my dirt-drawing techniques and said, “Here. Take this rock and write your name…like this.”
My son took the rock from me and began to scribble a design. As other parents looked on, I started to feel embarrassed because he wasn’t following my very simple instructions.
I asked, “What are you doing? Why don’t you write your name in the dirt like I showed you?”
He not only replied as if talking to a complete blockhead, but I think he also ditched me in the line to heaven when he said, “I don’t want to write my name. I’m drawing a picture of Jesus on the cross.”
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