We’re on a Muppet kick these days. The boys find them hilarious, and after becoming re-acquainted with The Muppet Show, I think I have identified the secret to Jim Henson’s success. He clearly understood that as far as little boys are concerned, chickens and explosions are always funny.
*sound of water running*
Me: Daniel?
Daniel: Yes…
Me: What are you doing?
Daniel: Something secret.
*pause*
Daniel: I’m doing science!
The other morning at breakfast:
Daniel: Mommy, I am sorry to report that there is only one bagel left.
At the grocery store:
Me: Stop playing with that (the flap on the shopping cart that allows the carts to fit together.) It might shut on your fingers and that will hurt.
Daniel: Not according to my calculations.
My goal is to get my kids some shoes, and get the heck out of this place as quickly as possible. I will not stop to listen to your pitch, and when I respond, “No thank you” without slowing down, that is *not* your cue to follow me for a few steps to “ask me a question.”
Whatever your question is, the answer is this: As you can see, I am in a crowded mall on a Saturday with two children under the age of six. I have my hands full, and left most of my patience back at the shoe store. I am not here for fun. Go push your products on someone who is off the clock, and came here because they had nothing better to do with their day off.
“Mom, I think we should stop doing all this God stuff during school time.”
I may have a budding ACLU lawyer on my hands.
Will Neapolitan ice cream help us to understand the mystery of the Trinity?
I don’t know what St. Augustine would have to say about it, but I think it’s worth a shot.
On angels:
Me: Your guardian angel follows you everywhere.
Daniel: Just like how I follow you into the bathroom?
Me: Yes. Just like that.
On God:
Charlie: Where is God?
Me: He’s everywhere. He lives in heaven and he lives in your heart.
Charlie: He can’t fit in my heart, he’s too big!
Me: He can make himself small to fit in your heart.
Daniel: I think God makes my tummy rumble ’cause when we’re in church my tummy rumbles.
opened it’s doors today. Charlie is officially a Kindergarten student, which makes me the principal, teacher, lunch lady, janitor, and bus driver. I’m absolutely terrified looking forward to the challenge.
I chose a boxed curriculum to start – Kolbe Academy. I’m not confident or organized enough to put together my own program, and I think that this one is pretty solid.
Our first day went all right. Daniel was desperate to participate, but handing him a copy of whatever we were working on so that he could scribble on it didn’t cut it. I need to start building in activities for Daniel to keep him busy.
Charlie did great, although he started to lose focus after about an hour. I’m not sure if that means I need to limit the work to an hour per day, or if I should build in short breaks. We worked about 1 hour and 45 minutes total. Charlie’s difficulty with printing/handwriting really slowed him down. After a while, if the task was not focused on handwriting, I let him dictate his answers to me. Simply holding the pencil correctly is a challenge for him, and he tires so easily that it seemed unfair to force him to write every little thing himself. I’m glad that his occupational therapist is upping his therapy to twice a week, because it’s clear that he really needs it.
Here’s Charlie clocking in:
Ready to work!
I attended a workshop last year with Sue Patrick, and I’m hoping the workboxes will make things easier for both Charlie and me.
Workboxes:
St. John Bosco, pray for us!
So we were in Target a few weeks ago, and my husband said, “Hey, I saw this toy that might be good for the beach – go down that aisle and check it out, let me know if you think it’s okay for the boys.”
I go look at the toy – it’s a sword that is made of plastic and wrapped in a spongy material that absorbs water. The idea is, you soak the swords, then have a sword fight and get splashed in the process. I’m not impressed, but feel like I should at least attempt to evaluate it for safety.
So what do I do? I smack myself in the head and face with the sword multiple times, to see if it hurts. I decide that it does. Then I notice the Target employee staring at me in stunned silence from a few feet away. And I try to explain what I was doing, but I don’t think he was reassured at all…
Daniel would like to lodge a complaint (a very loud complaint) with the management. He feels that dumping Cheez-its onto the carpet and stomping them into a powdered, cheesy mess is a perfectly acceptable activity. He points out that it is in keeping with his image and lifestyle as an active toddler. Furthermore, he vehemently rejects the notion that he should be required to assist in the clean-up of cheesy cracker crumbs, or submit to confinement in his room for at least the length of time required for the the management to clean up the mess.
His objection is duly noted, although the powers-that-be remain unsympathetic.
