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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The Day We Played Hooky

With the Northeast in the midst of its biggest snow storm of the season thus far, I had a decision to make . . . ship my kid off to preschool, or keep her home for the day? First off, pretty much every other town or city canceled school for the day except for ours. Actually, most schools were canceling for the next two days. Secondly, we pay good money to send her there for the two days a week that she attends so, the thought of her missing school when she doesn't have to kind of makes me cringe. Actually, we literally scrape through our pennies each month to be able to pay her tuition. I'll add in that it's worth every penny though! Thirdly, I don't like making decisions. I wish our town would have called it off and made that decision for me.

There is something about watching the news reports and seeing the school closing list scroll at the bottom of the screen that brings excitement to my eyes. It always has, and always will. Perhaps it's the teacher in me, or the thrill of snow days that I had as a kid that have never seemed to fade away. I started watching the news as those closings rolled by on my screen. My town was not listed. Bummer. I woke up the next morning early, real early and patiently waited to see my town pop up. It never did. To be honest, I was shocked. Some people dread the thought of a snow day for their kids, especially immediately following an almost two week long winter break . . . not me! Bring it. 

So there I was, six AM in the morning, faced with the decision of waking my kids (who are usually awake at that time) and doing the whole crazy morning routine during the beginning stages of a major storm. After talking to my husband, and calling my mother for moral support . . . you know, because of that nagging question, am I a bad parent for letting my three year old play hooky? Well, I opted not to take her. My kids slept until 7:30, we played dress up, jumped on the bed, (shh, don't tell daddy) baked peanut butter cookies, made loom bracelets, had a dance party and made a blanket fort. Best decision ever. I love snow days, even if I'm the one who declared it!

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The Fun of Fall with the Kids

Well it's official! The heat was turned on and the cool, crisp air has made it's way to Massachusetts. There is something about replacing short sleeves with hooded sweatshirts, and trading in my summer iced coffee for a warm cup, or in my case pot of coffee, that I find very comforting. I love the aromas of Fall too. Warm apple crisp, apple pies, pumpkin seeds and all different kinds of cookies baking just to name a few.

I was never one to bake. I can thank my kids for that. Their love for baking has challenged me to give it my all, and not be so scared of the kitchen. I've done good . . . It's been months since I've set off a smoke detector. The upside to baking with your kids is that 1. It's fun for them, and 2. If a stray eggshell ends up here or there you can says things like, "That's what happens when you bake with small children." For the record: I don't let my kids touch the eggs, but nobody needs to know that.

When I think of Fall, I think of things like Halloween and Thanksgiving. I think of school and the fact that Charlotte, my baby, is turning two! Though I'm thankful for everyday with my kids, Fall brings out the subtle reminders of the little things. For instance, the leaves changing colors and falling from the trees. Though I know the colors are changing right before my eyes, my kids often remind me to stop for a minute and take a look at how beautiful they are. They're right, they are beautiful. For some reason the stresses of that dreaded fall clean up don't always seem so bad when you have little ones. Taking a break to watch the excitement in their faces as they jump in a pile of leaves, or stop to count acorns always makes it just a little easier.

I'm thankful for Lanie's preschool, and all the fun she has there. The look in her eyes when I come to pick her up each day is priceless. She is always eager to show me all the artwork she has stuffed in her backpack, and it's beyond clear that she thoroughly enjoys herself while she's there. I'm thankful for those two mornings a week when Lanie is in school. It gives me one on one time with Charlotte which is rare, and it's really nice.

My kids often remind me to take a step back and enjoy the little things. I thank them for that. As a matter of fact they both took a nap the other day at the same time. I think that has happened maybe three times total. Instead of catching up on housework, I cracked into the Halloween candy stash, sat on the couch with my feet up and ate three mini snickers bars. I'm thankful that Halloween only happens once a year and I don't have pounds of candy hidden in my cabinets. However, I am thankful for that moment. I've dreamt of that stay at home mom, kicked back on the couch, eating chocolate image for so long. It really happened!

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A Weeks Worth of Kid Quirks

Boy have I got some quirky stories for you. This past week has been full of them. It all stems from my kids' obsession with Peppa Pig. Specifically, my three year old's. My (almost) two year old joins in on the quirkiness as she likes to follow her big sisters lead, or perhaps it's a payback since my oldest now refers to her younger sister as her "little brother Georgie"(Peppa's pig sibling). For those unfamiliar with "Peppa", she's a pig who speaks with a British accent and has a head which resembles an over-sized, 1970's style, pink blow dryer. It's a half hour cartoon which runs back to back from 5 to 6 pm. It really could not come on at a better time. My kids sit glued to the TV, allowing me time to start dinner without dealing with any serious casualties.

Recently, let's just say, I've developed a love/hate relationship with this silly Peppa Pig show. I LOVE that my kids will sit down on the couch without moving for a full hour. I HATE that my oldest now refers to me as "Mommy Pig", to my husband as "Daddy Pig", and that she'll often introduce herself to strangers by saying "Hi I'm Peppa pig, and this is my Mommy pig, my Daddy pig, and my little brother Georgie." I'm not sure if these so called strangers think that we are visiting from overseas since she now speaks with a British accent, but we're not. Also, my youngest is clearly a girl, and my husband and I are real live people, not pigs.

The other day during the car ride to preschool, my oldest busted out with a really loud "HI, I'M PEPPA PIG" followed by an equally loud pig snort. My youngest chimed in with a "NO! I'M PEPPA PIG", followed by more pig snorts. My oldest was floored by this and yelled "NO, YOU'RE MY LITTLE BROTHER GEORGIE!" This resulted in a very loud, dueling snort match for what is normally a very short car ride to school. That short car ride very well may have been the longest five minutes of my life.

On this same day, my oldest came home from school with two paintings she made. She was so excited to show them off and handed one over to my youngest. It was a nice break from the bickering over Peppa pig. This is what she said "Here Charlotte, I made this for you." My heart literally melted as she sat by our fireplace explaining to her younger sister that she made this extra picture to share with her. Then she said, "It's a giant steak. I made an extra one for you to eat since Mommy and Daddy don't feed us. That's what I said to my teachers at school." Just for the record: I feed my kids food.

On tommorow's breakfast menu: BACON

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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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School Daze

'Tis the season for those dreaded back to school commercials on TV. I guess some things never change. I personally was never a huge fan of school, but sometimes I find myself missing certain things about going. I never passed classes with flying colors, I got by. I had fun. If you could slap a grade on the social aspect of it all, I would have gotten an A+. You see, school is where I made a good majority of my friends. Some that I still have today. Well here I am, and those so called back to school commercials are here to haunt me, again. Except now for my daughters sake. No, I take that back. . . for my sake.
 

In just 336 hours, I hand my first born over to be under the care of others. I may be a little shaky with my math skills, (remember, I was more of a socializer) but who's counting. Okay, I'm not that obsessed that I'm counting down hours, but I am counting down the days. In 2 weeks, my child will start a new chapter. . . PRESCHOOL! I wish more than anything that I could be the parent that is jumping for joy and making up back to school, or in my case off to school jingles and jigs about shipping my kid off, but I'm not. It's only preschool though, so we've got a ways to go. I refuse to give up hope yet.

I have been so fortunate to be able to stay at home with my girls. This has by far been the most rewarding, challenging, tiring job that I have ever had. Parenting in general is, but I love it. I smile a lot, laugh a lot, and some days I just want to cry. I worked in a daycare for a little over 16 years. I was the teacher that you would hand your child over to, and I'd tell you on their first day that everything was going to be okay. . . and it was. It was great. Now that I'm on the other side of the fence, handing my child over, it's a whole different ballpark. Although, my kid thinks it's pretty awesome. For months now she has been saying that she's going to "college". Woah! Slow down! You're only three and you're going to preschool for a whopping two mornings, and a total of six hours a week ('Cause that's all your mother can handle right now.)

Last week a "Welcome to Preschool" letter arrived in the mail for Lanie. Even though I wanted to cry I put on a damn good front, and I jumped up and down with excitement right beside her. The letter suggested some essential items to start the school year off with, one being a backpack for storing artwork. She did not hesitate when saying she wanted a butterfly backpack. You bet your butt I ordered her one that night. Not only with butterflies, but with her name sewn on.  When it came in the mail we opened it, the jumping up and down with excitement started all over again. Then, I excused myself to go to the bathroom where I cried for a minute, and came out jumping up and down with my excited face on. I can tell you this much, becoming a parent has brought out a whole other side of me that I never knew existed. I'm a sap.

On a good note, I'm very happy that she is so excited to go off to preschool. I know she will do great. The time away will be good for both of us, and maybe she'll stop drawing "friends" on my back door with sticky Popsicle sticks (her latest hobby). I give it a month, and I'll bet my three year old has a better social life than me, and that's okay. . . I'll probably be exhausted from driving her around to play dates anyway.

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