Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I've realized that some of my least favorite words to hear from my children are not, "I'm hungry", but the infinitely worse, "I'm STILL hungry." The timing of when these words are what make them so aggravating. No one ever says, "I'm STILL hungry" when they are actually sitting at my heavily laden table. Oh no. "I'm STILL hungry" only comes after I've urged them for the sixth time to finish their breakfast, and have cleaned up the dishes, put all the food away, and want to take a shower. But the worst is when "I'm STILL hungry" happens after they've just eaten an entire granola bar, or banana, or yogurt (after the first "I'm STILL hungry"), and their "STILL hungry" eyes are pointedly examining the leftover birthday cake. Tough beans, kiddos. Have as many graham crackers as that little belly can hold. One day man will not live on snacks alone in this house. Sigh.
Cooper has been extra funny lately. I have been avoiding writing about his potty training progress, because who wants to read about that, but I will mention that it has been very slow progress. He knows how to do everything but has no desire to actually stop playing or doing whatever he is doing and take a skip to the loo. We've tried stickers. We've tried candy. We've tried better candy. We've tried prizes. We've tried underwear. Now we are just living in the overnight pullups and trying to maintain some consistent habits. I was worried that maybe I've somehow subconsciously made him think that he just can't do it...that I'm too disapproving or something. I think I've been pretty positive about the whole thing with him, but you never know. I just don't want him sitting in a shrink's chair someday, "It all started with the pullups and having to do a chore every time I had an accident..." I guess moms will feel guilty about just about anything, but he sure helped me feel better the other night. We were sitting around the dinner table and having a rare quiet moment where everyone is actually eating their food. (I guess it was "Dasagna" night.) Cooper takes a deep breath, partially stands up in his chair, raises his fist and yells out into the blue, "WHO'S A BIG WINNER? MEEE!"
I guess I have nothing to worry about. That kid is loaded with confidence.
He had a good birthday. Here are some fun pictures, including the big-lipped reluctance over being sung to. He loves the birthday song, and was even singing it to himself when he woke up, but there's something about the pressure of the candles and having everyone looking at him and singing his name that just rubs him the wrong way every year. He finally agreed to let Boston blow out the candles. The party blowers were a bigger hit, and he loved the gifts. Oh, other than the new sheet set. He dumped them out of the gift bag, took one sneer at the plastic, rectangular shaped brick they were packaged in, and declared them (in a rather disdainful voice for someone who still wears Pullups), "diapers."
Boston had an eventful day at the store yesterday. Macy is recently out of her carrier car seat and was having her first ride in the front of the shopping cart. Cooper was in the basket taking care of the groceries for me, and Boston was walking along side. He is usually pretty good at the store because he knows if he is bad he has to ride in the cart as well. And that is for babies. So, I wasn't paying too much attention to the cart while I was reaching for the buttermilk at WalMart. You know how there is that nice, wide aisle along the dairy cases? Well, Boston has an eye for opportunity like no other. Unfortunately, it had been raining buckets as we went into the store and I made the mistake of running like a banshee with the cart and children. Example, example, example. Guess who felt the need for speed? Son of Maverick, I turned around and my cart with my babies in it was careening down the aisle. I yelled out, "Boston!" He kind of turned and looked at me, and in the same moment I felt his panic as he realized he was too little to stop the heavy cart (or to see where he was going, for that matter) and I saw the look of incredulity, anger and fear all at once in the face of the bespectacled little old lady he rammed head on. Broken hips and law suits flashed before my eyes. Luckily, she had been standing next to the tall case of day-old pastries, and that took the brunt of the crash. It still bumped her pretty good, though. Both of my tinies started screaming and Boston was pale as a sheet. I checked the lady out, who declared she was fine (I hope she wasn't lying...), apologized profusely, made Boston apologize profusely to the woman (who was kind enough to accept his apology with a hug instead of beating his mother over the head with her purse), and all of us tried to calm the crying babies. Boston had to ride in the cart after that, not too-long because I was trying to get out of there as quickly as possible before she got our names and addresses! We had a nice little talk about the steps of Repentance before anyone was allowed to get out of the car. I guess the blessing of the whole incident was that he was in an extremely teachable mood for the rest of the day, and I hope I used that to my full advantage. I love the little Janice Kapp Perry song, and we sang that together. "What does it mean....to repent? It means you're sorry that you did it and you promise that you'll quit it and you'll never ever do that thing again."