Friday, March 31, 2006

Secrets

My husband got some Quaker Dinosaur Egg cereal for the kids' desserts when he was at the store the other day. It is Brown Sugar-flavored oatmeal with little candy Dinosaur Eggs in it that melt when you add hot water and reveal little candy dinosaurs. He wasn't wild about getting it, but the kids begged for it, and he figured there were less-healthy things they could be having. But he emphasized that this was for dessert.

Two nights later, it was time for the kids' supper. They had had a bag of chips the daycare had given them as a snack and a glass of milk already, so I knew their appetites would be next to nil, but I also knew they'd be hungry at bedtime if they didn't eat, and Miranda is such a slow eater, I knew if she didn't start soon she wouldn't finish. "So, guys, would you like Dinosaur Egg oatmeal for supper?"

"Yeah!" they cried. Then Miranda added, "But Daddy says it is only for dessert."

"It is, really," I said, "But this will be our little secret, okay?"

The kids agreed that it was a secret and I made the oatmeal. Now, I don't really keep secrets from my husband, so I did tell him after the kids were in bed that they had had Dinosaur Egg cereal.

The next day, when my husband presented them with lunch, Xavier took one look at it and said, "Yuck! Can I have something else?"

Exasperated, my husband asked, "Like what?"

"Like Dinosaur Oatmeal!" Xavier suggested.

"Honey, that's just for dessert."

"Mommy let us have it for supper last night!" Xavier pointed out.

"Yeah," Miranda chorused. "But we're not supposed to tell you that."

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

In the Hall of the Mountain King

I made a meal for a family down the hill from us who had just had a baby. When I got home from work on Tuesday, I called to confirm that I could bring the meal down, and got the kids ready to go.

Since it was just down the hill, I figured we could walk, but as we stepped out the door, I noticed that heavy dark clouds were moving in. I considered -- for about four seconds -- loading the kids into the car instead, but then I thought, "Naah, we can make it -- it will only take us a few minutes (the house can't be more than three tenths of a mile away), we can ooh and aw over the baby for the obligatory three minutes, then head back. We'll be back in no time."

What I failed to take into consideration was that while I could do the whole trip (with ooh-ing and aw-ing) in about ten minutes, throwing the kids into the mix slowed everything down. All the way down the hill, it was, "Xavier, leave that bug alone!" "No, Miranda, you won't get germs from touching the retaining wall." "Xavier, it's mulch, not dog poop, but even if it were dog poop you can walk around it." "Miranda, we don't have time to play on the retaining wall. Let's go!"

Still, we finally made it down the hill. Down the street from us, they are building new houses and the tyvek wrapping was flapping ominously in the wind as the black clouds were clearly approaching overhead.

As I rang the bell, I said, "Kids, we're going to have to make this quick."

Xavier said, "I'm going to have an accident."

As soon as we got in, however, Xavier lost all interest in using the potty when he saw all the toys that the older boy (a two-year-old) of the household had in a toybox just inside the door. I quickly showed the woman how to heat up dinner, put it in the over, ooh-ed and aw-ed -- and our visit was still dragged out because I was trying to wrestle the kids back into their coats ("I told you not to take them off!") and herd them away from the toys. So instead of the three minutes I had allotted, it ended up being more like ... ten.

As we stepped outside, I looked out across the valley and could see the rain coming down in sheets at the other end. "Come on, kids, we've got to go!" The threat of getting soaked seemed to propel them forward, but the return trip was all uphill. The odds were not in our favor.

Still, we were making pretty good time when a garage door opened to our right and a big dog came wandering out. Now, we know the dog, we know the owner, and we know the dog is behind an invisible fence ... but my kids flipped out anyway. Talking loudly (to be heard over their cries), I tried to reassure them that things were under control: "Wow! Look at that! The dog can open the garage door ALL BY HIMSELF, how cool is that?"

Suddenly the door between the garage and the house flew open. "Is that Mandy I hear? Oh good!" The owner came out and got right down to business, "I wanted to talk to you about car-pooling -- you know, to preschool? -- because I see your green van there -- you do have a green van, right? -- just about every day, it seems, and I was thinking ..." And so on.

Finally I broke in, looking pointedly at the clouds. "Well, my husband is the one who drives Miranda to school, so I'll check with him and let you know."

"Of course, the car seats might be an issue. It might be better if you guys drove on Wednesday and Friday --"

Finally, amid assurances that we would be in touch, we got moving again, this time a little faster than before. The wind was beginning to pick up now, and there was no doubt where that rain was heading. I was considering whether I could pick up the pace by carrying Xavier as the UPS truck rounded the corner up ahead. I made eye contact with the driver (our usual), so I gave him a wave as he passed us.

Screeeeeee! The kids and I jumped and looked back to see the UPS truck backing up towards us. Oh, man, what now? As the truck drew parallel with us, the UPS man leaned out and said, "Are you Mandy?"

"Yes, I am."

"Great, I have a package for you. I didn't want to leave it at the house with the rain coming ..." Of course, he had to go get it out of the back, and, of course, I had to sign for it.

The UPS truck was heading off on its way, and I was now urging the kids to run up the hill; of course, I can't carry Xavier now because I have this package ... Suddenly we found ourselves parallel to the retaining wall. "Mommy, you promised we could walk on it on our way back!" It isn't safe for the kids to walk on the wall unless I hold their hand, but since I have the package we have to take turns, yada-yada-yada. As Miranda is hopping off the low end of the wall and I am helping Xavier down the final stretch -- Flash! Kaboom!

Okay, now the kids are screaming and trying to run for the house. I am trying to catch them -- one-handed, of course -- because I don't want them to run into the street and I have this idea in the back of head that you shouldn't run across a wide open area -- like the street on the top of our hill -- in a lightning storm. At the same time, I realize that I am the tallest object in this wide open area, so I am trying to crouch, clutching the package to my chest, as I attempt to slow my children down while simultaneously hurrying them along, like a rural professional Quasimodo.

We reach the house as the first drops of rain are pelting down. We get inside in the nick of time. Safe and sound. Warm and cosy. I walk over to the window and watch the rain coming down in sheets. Miranda joins me, and we stand there for a solemn peaceful moment.

"Mommy?" Miranda asks at last. "Do you think it going to flood? I'm worried our house will flood!"

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Miranda's Birthday

... is still a month away, but she has been talking about it, planning it, organizing it, agonizing about it, etc., since at least, oh, the day after Christmas. Now that we are three weeks away from her actual birthday (four weeks away from her birthday party), she is practically nonlinear about it. If she isn't worrying about germs or turning into a dragon, she is talking about her birthday and how she can't wait for it to get here.

Anyway, last weekend she was feeling a little glum for some reason or another, so I suggested that we go ahead and order supplies for her birthday party. While I was agonizing over party favors and what kind of plates to get -- no small feat for a "Hello Kitty and Dinosaur" themed party -- she "helped" by jumping off my bed with her brother ("Miranda, do you want to paint dinosaurs or play Hello Kitty Bingo?" "Paint dinosaurs!" (Thump!)).

Although I didn't really feel like she was paying attention, evidently she was, because every day after that she would ask, "Are my party supplies here yet?" Then, on Friday, when I told her playgroup would be at our house, she asked, "For my birthday party?"

After playgroup (not her birthday party), she was sitting at the table talking to me about you-know-what while I worked on post-play-group cleanup. I happened to look out the window and saw the UPS truck. "Look, Miranda," I said. "The UPS truck is here."

Miranda leapt to her feet and ran to the window, slapping her palms against the glass and doing a little happy dance as the UPS man started toward our house with a box. Now, it was rainy, cold, and generally miserable on Friday afternoon, but when the UPS man spotted the sunny little elf gyrating in the window, he stopped walking and threw back his head and laughed. I had to laugh, looking at him.

Much to the relief of all involved, the box did contain party supplies. We had to hide it after two days because Miranda was insisting that she couldn't wait until April for her birthday.

Kids are funny; I can't remember how long it has been since I actually looked forward to my birthday. In the meantime, Miranda has already told Adam that she wants to celebrate her sixth birthday in September.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Kontroll-freak and Saying Goodbye

Two stories this time ...

First, if you have not read the blog on Kontroll (the last blog), you should, because it will make this story make more sense. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Ready? Okay! My friends came to watch the Kontroll last night, and a good time was had by all (or by me, anyway), but even as we were putting the kids to bed, Xavier was protesting that Kontroll was his kind of movie.

Anyway, this morning my husband dropped Miranda off at school, and as he and Xavier were heading home, Xavier asked him a question that Adam can't remember, but his response was, "That's for adults."

"What's an 'adult'?" Xavier asked.

"An adult is a grown-up, a big person, like me or Mommy," Adam replied.

Xavier responded, "Yeah, well, when I am four years old, I will be an adult, and I will get to watch adult videos!"

We can only hope they are not the kind with "bad people" ...

On the saying goodbye front, our friends who just had a baby and gave us the gift certificate for O'Charley's are moving. About a week after their son was born, the husband was offered a job in Ohio, and they decided to take it.

While I was out with the kids today (we went to the railroad bridge off the Huckleberry trail and waited in vain for trains, although the kids did a little "train dance" that livened things up while we were waiting), I mentioned that I had hoped that Miss Heather could come over and play this afternoon, but that she was on her way to Ohio to look for a new house.

"Miss Heather is moving?" Miranda cried.

"Yes. Her husband got a new job and they are moving to Ohio."

"Why would they want to move to Ohio? They have such a nice house here!"

"Well," I said, "he got offered a better job, and it will put him closer to Jane (his oldest daughter) and his parents, and I believe Miss Heather's parents live nearer to Ohio as well."

Miranda pouted. "I don't want her to leave. And she had such a nice house!"

"The neighborhood they are looking at is very nice," I replied. "It's family-oriented, the houses are all nice and new, there are playgrounds and walking paths, and there's a really big swimming pool." I was basically rattling off what Heather had told me.

"A swimming pool?" Miranda asked thoughtfully.

"With a slide."

Miranda pondered this some more. "I want to move to Ohio, too."

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Kontroll of the situation

A couple of my friends are coming over to watch the movie Kontroll tomorrow night. If you haven't seen Kontroll and you like foreign films and/or dramatic thrillers, you should check it out (this will be my third time), and I would love to hear what your impression of it is.

One thing Kontroll is NOT, however, is a kid's movie. So, as the kids are eating dinner tonight, I am rambling on about what we have planned for the rest of the week, and I say, "And Aunt Tania and Miss Vicky are stopping by tomorrow night!"

The kids stopped eating and look at each other, then Miranda chirps, "They're coming to see us?"

I back-pedalled a little. "Well, they are coming to watch a chick-flick with mommy, but we'll do that after you guys go to bed." For the record, Kontroll is not a technically a "chick-flick" either, but that's what I said, probably because my guests are women with whom I occasionally watch movies my husband has little interest in. Having already endured this movie twice, it has essentially become a chick-flick for my husband.

Of course, the kids know that a chick-flick is a video, so Xavier pipes up, "A video! Can I watch it?"

"No, Xavier, it's not your kind of movie," I replied. "It's scary -- you wouldn't like it."

"What's it about?" Miranda asked.

"Well, it's about a subway," I hazarded.

"I love subways!" Xavier replied. This is true -- Xavier loves trains.

"What else is in it?" Miranda asked.

"Ummm, passengers," I answered. I was trying to dodge telling them about the scary parts of the movie.

"I like passengers!" Xavier chants.

"What else is in it?" Miranda prompted.

Suddenly I hit upon the right response -- not specific enough to give them nightmares, but explicit enough to make them understand it is not their kind of movie. "It has bad people in it."

Evidently it was not a good enough answer after all: "I love bad people!" Xavier exclaimed.

He still doesn't get to watch the video tomorrow night.

Monday, March 20, 2006

O'Charley's

A friend of mine had a baby recently and her older (two-year-old) daughter was a guest with us for a few days while she was still in the hospital with her new arrival. We really expected nothing in return, but she gave us a gift certificate to O'Charley's to thank us for our trouble.

Not to sound like we are looking a gift horse in the mouth, but we don't eat at O'Charley's very often (in fact, the only other time we have eaten there was because we had a gift certificate -- and, as luck would have it, said friend was there at the time, so I can see where she might have gotten the idea.) The food is fine, but we tend to prefer Asian cuisine (if it is just Adam and me) or Italian (Sub Shack) if the kids are along. So, to make a long story short, the kids were not overly familiar with the place.

So when we announced to the kids that we would be eating out, they became (understandably) excited, but Miranda immediately launched into, "Where are we going? O'Charley's? I've never heard of that. Why aren't we going to Sub Shack? I want to go to Sub Shack. Maybe we should go to Sub Shack instead." And so on -- not really complaining, but conveying strongly that whatever O'Charley's is, it would not be her first choice.

Well, we arrived at O'Charley's and were greeted by our unsmiling host. Despite his grim demeanor, he had a couple of things going for him as far as Miranda is concerned: first, he was a relatively pleasant-looking college-aged male; second, he had activity books and crayons for the kids. He had her at hello.

Miranda ordered the kid's pizza. It did not come with french fries (a big disappointment), and the pizza itself was not up to Sub Shack standards; in fact, it was so bad that it took great coaxing ("If you eat another piece, you can have dessert") to get her to eat one third of it (originally the bar had been one half of it, but after Adam tried a bite, he lowered the bar.) The ice cream, of course, was a big hit, but she didn't even finish that.

Nonetheless, as we were leaving, as she clutched the cherished activity book to her chest, she announced loudly to our waitress, "This is my favorite restaurant ever!"

(Note: Lest we get sued for giving O'Charley's a negative review, the adult courses were fine, and even Xavier's chicken tender meal gets two thumbs up.)

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Fab-loo-us!

Today I went to the mall to buy new running shoes at Lady Footlocker, and, as usual, the kids insisted on tagging along. After we got the shoes, I decided to try to go to Bath and Bodyworks to see if they had anything new.

When I say "try" to go, this is because Miranda always behaves as if this shop is a torture chamber, and I have to admit, she has a point. The air is so redolent with the various odors of various soaps that it is nearly impossible to isolate the scent of the sample you are trying to decide if you like enough to buy or not. Still, for some reason (probably obstinence) I insisted on trying to smell the soaps with auspicious-sounding names. Every time I uncapped a bottle, however, we went through a similar routine:

Me (sniffing): Hmmm.

Xavier: I want to smell! I want to smell!

Miranda: I can't breathe! It smells terrible in here! I need a Kleenex!

Me (to Miranda): We'll be leaving in just a minute, Sweetie.

Xavier (sniffing the offered bottle): Mmmm! That smells fab-loo-us (fabulous)."

Finally after we had gone through this same sequence four or five times, I said, "Xavier, I don't think you even have an opinion here -- you think they all smell fabulous." I had pretty much decided on what I wanted and was on my way to checkout, when I spotted one more bottle that looked intriguing. I uncapped it, and took a whiff.

Me (making a face): Hmmm!

Xavier: I want to smell! I want to smell!

Miranda: Mommy, you promised we were leaving! I need a Kleenex!

Me (to Miranda): We are leaving -- I just have to pay for these.

Xavier (making a face): Eeeeewwww, stinky!

Me (skeptically): Do you really think that stinks, or are you just saying that?

Xavier (with a smile): No, it's not really stinky. Really it's fab-loo-us!


We did pay and got the heck out of Dodge, but even after the store was well behind us, Miranda was wailing for a Kleenex. I checked my purse, but no joy, so I said, "I'm sorry, Miranda, but you'll have to wait until we get to car." We were heading that way anyway.

Miranda cried, "Until we get to the car?! I can't wait that long to get this stink out of my nose!"

But, as usual, she survived.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Blue Wonder Power Milk

My husband and I buy our milk in glass bottles. The milk the kids drink is skim, and it comes in a half-gallon bottle with a green top; the half-and-half comes in a quart bottle with a blue top. Miranda loves milk, and would drink nothing but milk if she could get away with it. Xavier? Not so much. In the rare occasion when he asks for milk, he usually changes his mind as soon as he sees it and asks for juice instead.

Anyway, we had a babysitter over on Sunday night, and we failed to explain the milk situation. What's to explain? The bottles are clearly labelled on the lids, or so we thought. After she left on Sunday, we found the empty half-and-half bottle on the counter. We had a good laugh, and thought that was the end of it ...

... until my husband and Xavier went to the grocery store today. As my husband was loading milk into the cart, Xavier asked, "Daddy, can I have some milk?"

Surprised, my husband said, "Sure, Xavier, after we get home."

"Okay, Daddy!" Xavier responded cheerfully. After a couple of moments, he added, "I really like Blue Milk."

My husband looked into the cart, then said, "Oh, Xavier, that's half-and-half. That's for people to put into their coffee."

"I really like it."

"Yes, but it's not for drinking."

"I really like it."

My husband tried pointing out that it was fattening, not good for you, and other arguments, but Xavier's only response was to smile and reply, "I really like the Blue Milk."

Disclaimer: The title of this entry is the name of an album (and song) by Hooverphonic, and just seemed appropriate. I have no idea what it means, and if it is something deviant, I plead complete ignorence.

On Marriage and Children

Yesterday the kids made me "Thinking of you" cards while I was at work using stickers. Miranda's card had a depiction of a very stylish young lady with a green Happy face. Xavier's card had wedding imagery -- doves, wedding cake, bouquets -- and Thomas the Tank Engine stickers on the inside.

Well, the Thomas the Tank Engine stickers were no mystery -- there is nothing in the world Xavier likes more than "Thomas", but the wedding stickers had me puzzled. "Xavier, what's the deal with the Wedding stickers?" I asked.

Xavier replied, "I want to get married!"

"Really?" I asked with a smile. "Did you have anyone in mind?"

"Mommy and Daddy and Miranda!"

"Well, that's very nice, but polygamy is mostly frowned upon in this country -- usually people only marry one spouse."

"Then I'll marry Mommy!"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm flattered, but I'm already married to Daddy."

Without missing a beat, Xavier said, "I'll marry Miranda, then."

Miranda piped up, "I'm sorry, Xavier, but I'm already engaged to Jack." Evidently we're a more committed family than I knew.

Now, Miranda "proposed" to Jack -- another five-year-old at her old daycare center -- and he accepted, but he broke it off with her shortly after Christmas, so don't be surprised if you don't see wedding announcements any time soon. On the other hand, we have pointed out to her that he's kind of called it off AND that they don't even go to the same school anymore, but she only replies firmly, "It's okay -- he'll change his mind." It's hard to dispute that kind of determination.

On the children front, the kids and I took a meal to a woman from our church who was expecting a baby. While we were there, Xavier asked the woman what she was going to name the baby.

"We're going to name him James!" she replied enthusiastically.

"James is a splendid red engine!" Xavier laughed as he jumped up and down.

The woman stared at him in confusion, so I told her, "Xavier loves Thomas the Tank Engine, and James is one of the engines on that show."

She sighed. "Actually, James was our second choice. Our first choice was Thomas, but we decided not to go with that because of that show."

I guess it's a good thing I didn't tell her that James the Red Engine's claim to fame is being the "vain" engine.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Vocabulary

You get two for the price of one today, both from Xavier:

This morning, Adam was getting the kids dressed while I was getting ready for church. I came to take over with Miranda in helping get her dress on while Xavier, apparently fully dressed, was musing over a Thomas the Tank Engine catalog at the end of the bed.

"Xavier, do you have your shoes on?" I asked as I buttoned up Miranda's dress.

"No," he replied absent-mindedly without looking up.

"Do you have your socks on?"

"No," he replied, again without looking up. "But I have my feet on."

Second story:

Today at Sunday School, one of the other kids in the class asked Xavier about the skin tags in front of his ears. "What are those bumps on your ears?" the boy asked.

"Goosebumps," Xavier replied.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Propriety

This morning as Miranda was trying to postpone eating breakfast, she mused to her father that she wondered what she would be having for her snack at school.

"Maybe brussel sprouts," he suggested.

Miranda gave him a disparaging look. "No."

"Why not?" my husband asked. "Brussel sprouts are good for you."

"Brussel sprouts are for grown-ups."

"No, they aren't. Don't you think you'd like brussel sprouts?"

"No."

"Have you ever tried brussel sprouts?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you wouldn't like them?" my husband asked.

"Daddy," Miranda replied indignantly, "I'm not that kind of girl!"

Monday, March 06, 2006

Welcome to Sphinxian Dreams

This BLOG is really a place where I can record funny antecdotes about my kids for access by family and friends. My husband and I have a daughter, Miranda, who is five years old, and a son, Xavier, who is three. Other children may appear in this BLOG (the names have been changed to protect the innocent), but my children are the stars.

So ... if you are family or friends, Welcome! You are expected to know all these stories by heart, so if I meet you and make some kind of reference to something in the BLOG that doesn't sound familiar, just nod knowingly and laugh -- with as little sleep as I get, I won't notice if you are faking it. If you aren't family or friends, welcome anyway, and rest assured that the testing will not be as stringent.