With Great Power....

"With great power comes great responsibility." These words were uttered by Peter Parker's Uncle shortly before his own demise. For those who are comic book challenged, Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

But these are true words.

I have to give them to Hunter on a regular basis. Not because he has secret super hero powers, but because he is a big brother...and big brothers might as well have super hero powers in the eyes of their little sisters. I know I certainly thought my big brother could do no wrong.

Hadyn will intently watch her brother's actions and then sure enough, mimic them. And not all of her brother's actions are worth repeating. Apparently when 7 year old boys play "kitchen/diner", there tends to be a certain amount of plastic food debauchery - stuff that 7 year old little girls may find repulsive, but a 2 year old baby sister thinks is the BOMB!! And so creates a bigger mess that does not need to happen.

When mom breaks out into song and dance, a 2 year old little girl will giggle with glee and join right in having a grand old time. However, a 7 year old boy will scream at the top of his little lungs for mom to STOP THAT and will tackle mom with a force reserved for collegiate football try-outs. Again, little eyes see and follow suit.

Sigh.

I don't want to squash the boy out of my boy, but I really don't want to find the girl gone from my girl, either. So, we resort to Spider-Man tactics. Be a super hero to her.

And to mom.

It's Been a While...

It's been a while since I've posted a blog entry, or at least it seems like it's been a while. Seems that a certain little 2 year old girl has taken over my life. Having started with a son, a very calm, low key boy (until he hit 7), I have been caught totally unaware for the goings on of a 2 year old little girl. Oh, yes, I realize that I was once a 2 year old little girl, but see, God has a wonderful way of removing our behaviors at that age from our memories so that we can feign innocence in the eyes of our parents.

I watched in shock and awe the other day as Hadyn sat in the middle of the living room floor trying to put on her own socks. She managed to get one sock on, but the other foolhardy sock would not cooperate with her demands and would not go onto her precious little foot. Only 3 or 4 of her tiny piggies would go into her sock which as you would figure would make it rough to pull on a sock. She worked for what seemed like hours (probably only about 5 minutes, but you know), then she tried stubbornly for another few minutes before SCREAMING a scream I've never heard from her before and throwing herself and the sock on the floor, screaming some more and then picking up that contrary sock and trying it again. I gently asked her if Mommy could help. "NO!" Okay, but it might go on a little better if Mommy could just help a tiny bit. "NO! NO, MOMMY, NO!" Alrighty then. I finally got up from watching this show and approached the actress. She screamed, picked up the sock and hauled her little tuckus as fast as she could down the hall to her room, screaming the whole time, "NO MOMMY NO!" In her room, she spun around and told me "Bye, bye, Mommy!"

I sat down and hugged her tightly and let her know that it was okay to be mad and frustrated, but that we can't throw fits. We talked about it being okay to ask for a little help - why is it that we never really get that one. I ended up putting her in timeout and then when that was done, she sat down with me on the couch and we "talked" again. She still didn't want me to help her but I managed to sneak a hand to her foot and get that last reluctant piggy into her sock and she screamed as she pulled the sock up on her leg. At last, success! She puffed and panted as she sat and reveled in her accomplishment. I didn't mention that the heels of the socks were on top. We'll get to that later.

So, that type of thing has started to erupt at my house. I'm in shock. But I did read some blogs and talk to some Moms of 2 year olds and I found, it's going on at everyone's house!!!

I'm so sorry for you, too!! But they'll be beautiful, precious young women someday. Doggone good thing she's so cute!

Beware of Smelly Dijon Mustard

My Mom and I had just walked into my sister's house after a late morning/early afternoon cleaning spree at the old house. We were greeted at the door very promptly by my wonderful sister, who had a very stern look on her face.

Seems as though she and Hadyn were sitting a sharing some pretzels for snack. Jodi had put out a small bowl of Dijon mustard for dipping and apparently, little missy was enjoying the dip. Or more accurately, she was enjoying dipping and feeding Auntie Jo. Hadyn would eat a pretzel but then she would dip and feed "An Do". Then Jodi smelled something not so fresh. She sniffed around a little bit and when the smell landed on a little Dijon mustard cover hand, Jodi thought she was going to barf.

Yes, my little precious has a (thankfully declining) habit of reaching in the back of her pants to see what all the hub-bub is back there after something has happened. Something occassionally the color of Dijon mustard.

Needless to say, Jodi will probably never eat Dijon mustard again and my little darlin' has attained status on Auntie Jo's poo-poo list.

Literally. HA!!!

Christmas Shopping

Well, Hadyn has started her Christmas wish list. She was "shopping" the Toys-R-Us catalog (what her brother left for her) for baby dolls and kitchen sets.

This is what I saw when I walked into the living room this morning:


Yup. We're in for it. She's just a little chip off of the Mommy block!!

A Quiet Place

Most mothers know there is no place you can escape your children...they will hunt you down. This thought occurred to me this morning as I tried to have a quiet moment to myself for, well, you know, a "bathroom moment". Through the closed door I listened to the little voices growing louder, "Mommmmmyyy", "Mommmmmm?", "Mommy?", "Where did Mom go?", "where Mommy?", "Missy? Have you seen Mom?", and on and on. Okay, they both know where I am. They are both standing outside the closed door doing this. If I answer them, they'll try to carry on a conversation with me. If I ignore their calls, they'll continue on. There is no escape.

My mother told me one time of a similar story. My mother has four children with a 15 year age span. At some point in time with all four in the house, she chose to escape. In our house, there was only one bathroom, so that was not a good place to escape to, but we did have a basement in which the pantry held a freezer containing ice cream. Mom said she had to get away one day, so she went to the basement pantry, grabbed a fudgcicle from the freezer and sat on a stool in the pantry enjoying her treat and the show going on upstairs...much like my own this morning, with the constant calls of "where's Mom?" My dad finally found her in her hidey hole and when he told her the kids were looking for her, she answered, "yes, I know."

He was surprised that she would go to such lengths to hide, but then again, Dads usually get to go tinkle by themselves. Maybe one of these days I will once again get that experience.

Where Do They Learn This?

Scott and I ask ourselves and each other this question rather often concerning our children: "where do they learn this?" Of course, the question is answered at some point in our own behaviors, comments, actions, etc.

For example, today after lunch, the kids were sitting at the table having a Popsicle. I put on some music and started dancing around the kitchen being all goofy and everything. I was having fun watching the ice treat eating faces just blankly staring at me until Hadyn ROLLED HER EYES AT ME!! I mean, it was so obvious and it was watching a 2 year old foreshadowing to her teen years and saying, "ohmagosh Maawwwmmmmm! How embarrassing!" Then the 2 year old came back and started cracking up at herself...or at me...I'm still not sure. My jaw was on the ground and then I realized that while I was thinking, "where did she learn THAT?" I rolled MY eyes. Oh. Yeah. That's where she learned it. Oh boy. I told Scott the other day when he was asking about her temper and demanding nature, "I'm sorry, babe, but she is me." I've matured somewhat, she hasn't. Bless his heart. He has two of us.

But don't feel entirely sorry for Scott. Hunter is every bit his Daddy. Things that are said from that boy's mouth originated from his Daddy's. Hunter gets a swat on the tuckus and sent to his room...maybe I should call Scott's mom and see if she can swat him, too. He has Daddy's good qualities, too, like telling mom at just the right time how much he loves me and how I'm the best mom in the world. Yeah, he's his Daddy's boy all right.

I love my babies. Life is certainly an adventure with them.

Beautiful Babies

It's been a day. Not a bad day at all, just a day. I love home-schooling Hunter and challenging Hadyn on new things, too. It's really a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) dream. But there are the not so dreamy parts of the day, too. I am finding it very challenging for myself to educate a 7 year old and entertain an almost 2 year old at the same time while Daddy is in his home office working. It's not impossible, just challenging.

And then there is the constant cleaning. I find myself with an almost OCD type of thing going on when I walk into a room with toys and stuff scattered all over the floor. I feel compelled to stop, bend over, pick it up, and put it where it belongs. All day long I do this. So by the end of the day, I'm toast.

After dinner and kitchen clean up, I just want a nice neat house to look at. So, I've sent my children to Hadyn's room to play.

And that is where the beautiful babies part kicks in. My son and daughter are playing so preciously together right now. They are "cooking" and bringing me all sorts of taste treats to try out. Some, I tell them are wonderful, and some need some more work. They think it is funny and they are enjoying playing with each other. Hadyn just adores her "bubby" and Hunter finds it fun to play "down" with his sister sometimes. I just love watching them play in the room together then run down the hallway to give me a treat. So precious.

And beautiful. Yup. God loves me.

Ewww. Yuk.

There is nothing that will get my attention faster or make me jump higher than to be greeted by a precious little-bitty blonde with her five adorable little fingers sticking up in the air showing me, "Mommy, poopoo."

Ewwww!! Yukkkk!! Run, run, run, to the bathroom, don't touch anything on the way, barf, gag, ewww, yuk.

Apparently, she has become quite aware of her bodily functions AFTER the fact. I've tried to introduce the potty, which she loves to sit on, but just doesn't get the idea of what is actually supposed to happen while there. But she will tell me, "wee wee" and grab herself after the incident and of course she has to go examining herself to see what is the issue after the "poo poo" fact.

Ewww. But this is a stage we are in and it will pass all too quickly and later I'll reminiscence and laugh. However, I should be in really good shape for as much as I have to jump and run with her!!

22 Months

My baby girl is 22 months old today. We are only two months away from her being a whole 2 years old. Man, time flies and crawls at the same time.

It seems it was just a few months ago that I was miserably pregnant with her, but on the other hand we look at each other questionably and wonder how 22 months can seem like 10 years! HA!

I just have to look at this cutie pie smile and laugh. This is why God made her so cute - to make up for the fiesty, stubborn, onery little girl that she is.

Precious!