Tales From A Three Year Old

My three year old is a story teller, a fibber and a tad bit of a white liar . . . minus the tad bit and white.

I've never really cared what people have thought of me, either you like me, or you don't . . . then, my oldest daughter turned three (now almost four) and suddenly I have become a little self conscious. I'm certainly not perfect, I've never claimed to be perfect and I never will, however, her story telling has me 100% convinced that I will win the weirdo mom of the year award.

Story Number 1 . . . I don't feed my kids food.

It goes back to about six months ago when she came home from school with a backpack filled with paintings. She immediately grabbed two easel sized drawings that were smothered in brown paint and handed one to her sister and kept one for herself. I told her that her paintings were beautiful, and praised her for sharing. As I walked away I heard her say, "Here Charlotte, I painted you this nice big piece of steak." I turned around and told her that it was very creative that she painted some steak and this is what she said next , "Yes, I told my teachers that you don't feed us, so I needed to make some food for me and my sister to eat." What?! I feed you! On top of feeding you, I bribe you with ice cream cones and jello snack packs if you actually eat a decent meal! To set the record straight, I can assure you I give my kids food.

Story Number 2 . . . I have a baby in my belly.

One day I was dropping my oldest off at preschool when I realized she had stuffed a figurine of Peppa Pig's little brother George in her Pocket. As we got out of the car I reminded her that bringing toys from home was not a good idea, so I stuffed George in the front pocket of my hooded sweatshirt. Now this was when she was going through a really big Peppa Pig phase, she actually spoke with a British accent introduced herself to strangers as Peppa. Thankfully, that has stopped, but not before she told me that she said to her teachers that I was "keeping her little brother safe and warm in my belly." I mean I guess that wasn't entirely a lie because I did walk around with a pig figurine that she referred to as her little brother in my pocket for one day, but I can assure you that there a no real live babies in there. It was one day, and we're talking about a plastic pig.

Story Number 3 . . . I sleep in the parking lot of her preschool while she's inside.

Just the other day I picked her up from school, and as always I was eager to hear about her day. Before I could even ask about it she said to me, "Mommy, do you miss me while I'm in school, or do you have fun sleeping in your car while you wait for me to come out?" I responded, "Of course I miss you Lanie, but I don't sleep in my car!" Her reply, "Oh, well I told my teachers you do. We all had fun looking out the window for you." Awesome.

AND THE WEIRDO MOM OF THE
YEAR GOES TO . . .

(It's only by default, I swear.)

The Quirky Confessions: Days in the Life of a Stay at Home Mom

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Fact or Fiction? . . . With Kids, Hard to Tell!

FACT: My oldest started preschool last week. So far she loves it, and has shown no signs of separation anxiety. No tears! (From me or her.)

FACT: I'm not surprised by her ability to jump right in and have no issues during drop off. (Although, I'm very aware that this could change at any time.) I am surprised that I didn't lose my cool on her first day and cry her entire class a river to play in. I purposely wore no eye makeup that morning because I was 99.9% sure this would happen. I must have looked like real crap considering I was up at 4:30 AM just thinking about leaving her. FACT: I had far more anxiety than she did.

After dropping her off I had a brief orientation, then a full hour to myself. My mother in law was watching my youngest and I was at a complete loss . . . I was kid free?! What should I do? . . . I ran a quick errand and got coffee. It was the best coffee I've had in a long time. It was hot, unlike the coffee that sits on my counter every morning waiting for me to chug down in between making breakfast, cleaning up and getting my kids dressed. I enjoyed it, but at the same time I watched my car clock like a hawk. I was counting down the minutes until it was time to head back to school and hear all about Lanie's day. I arrived early, and was welcomed back by the center director. She told me the kids were outside and encouraged me to take a peek out the window. I watched her play. FACT: This brought a huge smile to my face.

She was happy to see me waiting when she walked in, and was excited to tell me about all the fun stuff she did on the car ride home.

This is where fact and fiction get hard to decipher. She told me she played with boys called twins. This is a fact. I met them when I dropped her off, and she was quick to head over and play blocks with them. She told me she loved using scissors. (Something I have not done with her.) She showed me the motions of using a scissors, and said she needed some of her own for at home. "I need my own scissors, golden ones. I need to cut Charlotte's hair." This is a FACT: she did not learn how to use scissors from me. It's also a fact that we'll stick to using scissors at school, at least for now. We don't need her younger sister getting any unwanted haircuts. She told me that her whole class went to Marshall's to buy new shoes. I'm 100% sure that this is FICTION, but it gave me a good laugh.

On her second day she was not as quick to offer up info about her morning. That's when I drilled her for it. (Bad idea.) "Did you have fun?" "What did you do?" "What are your new friends names?" This is what I got: "YES, I HAD FUN." "I got green marker on my shirt and it made me angry." "My new best friend is Polka Dot, okay?!" I'm pretty sure the had fun part was a FACT, and that she was just angry that I was asking her so many questions all at once. The green marker on her shirt was a FACT, and she was beyond pissed about it. I explained to her that its okay to get dirty, dirty means fun! Plus your mom is a master with a stain stick . . . relax! (She's a little prissy when it comes to getting dirty sometimes . . . we're working on that.) As far as "Polka Dot" goes, I'm pretty sure that's FICTION. Although, I should ask her teachers for a class list. You never know with all the   unique names people come up with these days. My sincere apologies if your reading this and have a "Polka Dot" of your very own.

All and all preschool has been a big hit for all of us . . . except for my youngest who is upset that she isn't old enough to go to preschool yet! (Nothing that some munchkins from Dunkin Donuts can't take care of.)

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