I've never been a twig. You know what I'm talking about. Those skinny girls that have more weight in their makeup than in their legs. I hate them...in Christian love of course.
Two small boys have added many curves to my already poofy body and I have struggled to lose the unloved love handles. They are very loving though and stubbornly hang on.
The other day I went outside to get some sun. Not a cloud in the sky and I got all comfortable on the porch and suddenly the sky was pitch black and angry. I went back in grumbling to myself and then it hit me...when a fat girl goes out to soak up some rays what else is gonna happen??? I soaked them ALL up. :)
I have a saying on the phone when a family member calls. They will ask how I am and I say "I'm fat and sassy." My loving father-in-law called one day and I answered with my standard greeting. I heard the laugh in his voice as he said "you're not (LONG PAUSE) sassy!!" it's our joke now... :)
I have stretch marks that glow in the dark and a belly that tries to either hang to my knees or make a 4th chin, depends if I'm sitting or standing. Even with all my new beauty marks I've decided that you're supposed to be comfortable with your body so I'm making mine as roomy as possible.
Psalms 139:14A I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made
Sometimes a little more fearfully than wonderfully but either way, still God made and loved. :)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
I've been committed
*All things posted have been edited and approved by Seth Green. :)
I'm watching all these 'young' couples who have just gotten married or who are about to embark on the INSTITUTION of marriage and I think to myself, ANYthing called institution needs to be thoroughly investigated before diving in. Insane asylums are institutions, which my mother says it's not so bad there, and schools are institutions. (How much did you enjoy THAT little adventure in life?) To better understand my musings I googled the word 'institution' and here are the definitions I got.
1. A society or organization founded for a religious, educational, social, or similar purpose.
Okay, that's not too bad, but the SECOND definition certainly rings a bell.
2. An organization providing residential care for people with special needs.
That is marriage in a nutshell. I really couldn't have said it better. Seth provides the residential care and I have the special needs.
Now that we have defined marriage we should continue on with my observation of these moony, icky, mushy couples. I just want to boink her in the eyes and say "I give ya 2 years of his morning breath and crusty socks and that will wipe the romance right out of everything girl!"
Seth's on the other side of me scribbling a quick note to the guy, "Whatever you do, DO NOT have a kid right off. You think you know your woman? They turn into these eating machines, that whine and cry about pains in places you have never HEARD about and you never ever wanna see. Keep your head low once a month, and hide the kitchen knives. You have two good weeks out of the month before her hormones take over. When that happens TAKE COVER and say only two words. I'M SORRY!"
So what is the difference between love and REAL love?
Love: Dinner in candle light with rose petals.
REAL love: Lighting a match after your husband leaves the bathroom and scrubbing grass stains out of the knees of his pants.
Love: Morning pillow talk
REAL love: His morning breath wakes you from a dead sleep.
Love: Holding hands and smooching 24/7
REAL love: Watching him dig to China in his nasal passage and grimace as THEN he reaches for your hand, which you relinquish just thankful he didn't EAT his treasure.
Love: Just knowing that hubby will keep your car clean for you because that's a "man" job you'll never have to do again.
REAL love: Getting in the driver's side of the car, adjusting the seat and coming up with a sticky booger on your hand that YOU didn't put there.
Love: Falling asleep cradled in each other's arms.
REAL love: Counting the seconds in-between the next fog horn snore and thinking of ways to commit the perfect murder just so you can get some SLEEP!
Love: Romantic strolls through a park or on the beach.
REAL love: Getting stranded 2 miles from civilization and hiking the said 2 miles in heels because your guy forgot to get gas. (But doing it with a smile because if you say one word you won't need gasoline to fuel THAT explosion. Atomic bomb wouldn't have the edge on that..he's a ticking time bomb. Just smile and again think of the perfect murder.)
Love: Thinking he's the most handsome man on the planet
REAL love: Him showing you how beautiful you are when you're 2 years pregnant with your second child.
Yes, marriage is an institution. You have to be a little crazy to enjoy all of it. Although marriage has it's ups and downs and as I watch all these youngsters I think back to when I was where they are, and even though I'm not that old myself, if I had to do it all over again; I'd find Seth sooner and marry him faster. I'd also make sure he had a good life insurance policy for when I DO finally figure out that perfect murder...probably sometime early tomorrow morning as I lay there and listen to his tonsils beat each other to death.
I'm watching all these 'young' couples who have just gotten married or who are about to embark on the INSTITUTION of marriage and I think to myself, ANYthing called institution needs to be thoroughly investigated before diving in. Insane asylums are institutions, which my mother says it's not so bad there, and schools are institutions. (How much did you enjoy THAT little adventure in life?) To better understand my musings I googled the word 'institution' and here are the definitions I got.
1. A society or organization founded for a religious, educational, social, or similar purpose.
Okay, that's not too bad, but the SECOND definition certainly rings a bell.
2. An organization providing residential care for people with special needs.
That is marriage in a nutshell. I really couldn't have said it better. Seth provides the residential care and I have the special needs.
Now that we have defined marriage we should continue on with my observation of these moony, icky, mushy couples. I just want to boink her in the eyes and say "I give ya 2 years of his morning breath and crusty socks and that will wipe the romance right out of everything girl!"
Seth's on the other side of me scribbling a quick note to the guy, "Whatever you do, DO NOT have a kid right off. You think you know your woman? They turn into these eating machines, that whine and cry about pains in places you have never HEARD about and you never ever wanna see. Keep your head low once a month, and hide the kitchen knives. You have two good weeks out of the month before her hormones take over. When that happens TAKE COVER and say only two words. I'M SORRY!"
So what is the difference between love and REAL love?
Love: Dinner in candle light with rose petals.
REAL love: Lighting a match after your husband leaves the bathroom and scrubbing grass stains out of the knees of his pants.
Love: Morning pillow talk
REAL love: His morning breath wakes you from a dead sleep.
Love: Holding hands and smooching 24/7
REAL love: Watching him dig to China in his nasal passage and grimace as THEN he reaches for your hand, which you relinquish just thankful he didn't EAT his treasure.
Love: Just knowing that hubby will keep your car clean for you because that's a "man" job you'll never have to do again.
REAL love: Getting in the driver's side of the car, adjusting the seat and coming up with a sticky booger on your hand that YOU didn't put there.
Love: Falling asleep cradled in each other's arms.
REAL love: Counting the seconds in-between the next fog horn snore and thinking of ways to commit the perfect murder just so you can get some SLEEP!
Love: Romantic strolls through a park or on the beach.
REAL love: Getting stranded 2 miles from civilization and hiking the said 2 miles in heels because your guy forgot to get gas. (But doing it with a smile because if you say one word you won't need gasoline to fuel THAT explosion. Atomic bomb wouldn't have the edge on that..he's a ticking time bomb. Just smile and again think of the perfect murder.)
Love: Thinking he's the most handsome man on the planet
REAL love: Him showing you how beautiful you are when you're 2 years pregnant with your second child.
Yes, marriage is an institution. You have to be a little crazy to enjoy all of it. Although marriage has it's ups and downs and as I watch all these youngsters I think back to when I was where they are, and even though I'm not that old myself, if I had to do it all over again; I'd find Seth sooner and marry him faster. I'd also make sure he had a good life insurance policy for when I DO finally figure out that perfect murder...probably sometime early tomorrow morning as I lay there and listen to his tonsils beat each other to death.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Little People
Life with a 3 year old is so draining. College wasn't this draining! Being married to Seth is ALMOST this draining but not quite. I can feed him and he's quiet for a minute or two. ;)
The rules of parenting just aren't fair! You figure out one stage and the next day they change it all up on you! You have your kid sleeping through the night and then they decide it's necessary to sprout teeth. They don't sleep and YOU don't sleep. You get the teeth thing under control and then they start to crawl. Is that really something that needs to happen? I think Jr. is adorable in his very stationary play pen or walker or swing or whatever they're in that DOES NOT MOVE. But no, they have to start crawling, which leads to pulling up (and pulling things DOWN) and then they start walking. Then your life is REALLY over. The bathroom used to be my sanctuary. Looong bubble baths where you hide from the world with only your nose and eyes exposed so you can breath and read a book. Now I dash in, lock the door and listen to the screaming from the other side. As I hurry as fast as I can I watch as they poke things under the door. It took them a while but they've finally realized that their heads won't fit so hands, arms, toys, my favorite dishes, all get shoved under the door. To get off course a bit, I saw a quote once that I often think of. The world never beats a path to your door....unless you're in the bathroom.
Back to the unfair rules of parenting; now you have a walking child and everything in the world suddenly seems very large and dangerous because you know it can crush your baby. Just as you get the hang of that they start talking! At first it's so cute. Every new word is a treasure. When Donnie was 2 I baby sat a 3 year old little girl. That child never stopped talking from the second she walked in until the second she walked out. I told my mother in law how it was driving me insane and she laughed. She said "It's the stage she's in. You grow into the stages with your kids." I found that she was right, for the most part. However, Donnie is now in that talking stage. I think I'm gonna need some growth hormones for this stage. I promise you, sometimes I think my ears are bleeding. I've never hated the word "why" so much. I don't KNOW why! To add to his chatter box stage he's now developed a whiney but sassy mouth. I really shouldn't be surprised. I am his mother after all so he comes by most of the talking and sass honestly.
This week he asked for something. When I told him "no" he said "You are mean, and cranky, and grouchy!" I didn't know he KNEW any of those words and I really wanted to laugh. "Honey, just because Mommy says no doesn't make her all those things. That wasn't very nice."
Donnie says, "Well, you SHOULD say yes."
Mothering is a full time job. It's constant "Don't touch that!
Do you need to eat? Pizza is not breakfast food. Why are doughnuts breakfast food, umm, ask your dad.
Aw, you need a diaper change. Oh, you need ANOTHER diaper change.
Sticks don't go into your eyes. No, not your ears either.
I don't why your poo is brown. Is mine brown? Hmm..can't say I've check lately.
Sure I'll read you a book...THAT one again?
Why are you all wet?? Mud puddle in the yard huh, how did I miss that?
Don't poke your brother. Don't bite your brother. Don't lick your brother. Head butting is a no-no. Don't dump water on your brother. Don't pull your brother's hair.
No screeching in the house. No screeching outside! Birds are dropping from the sky!
By the end of the day I sit down on a mountain of laundry and see tiny, sticky foot prints all along my half mopped floor and I wonder what in the world did I get done today?? Then my 1 year old wraps his chubby arms around my neck and gives me the most disgusting but sweet kiss I've ever had, and my 3 year old pounces in my lap and I see how happy they are, and my life is complete.
Donnie's night time prayers are the icing on the cake. About 3 weeks ago I told Donnie that he can talk to Jesus about EVERYthing. God wants to hear all about his day. Donnie has taken me up on it, and I LOVE to hear what comes out of his mouth. Tonight he prayed "Dear Jesus, please help me to be good, and to get new tires on my bike, and for me to help GiGi and to play with Uncle Philip's phone and Jenn Jenn's phone and Momma's phone. Maybe I get a phone too? (Never. LOL) Be wif Daddy and Papa and I love you, amen."
Today when I was in the middle of all of the craziness of Motherhood I comforted myself with the thought "You know, every other Mother out there knows what I'm feeling." And then, that thought scared me because if every other Mother out there is feeling like this there are some crazy nut jobs, just like me! So my doors are locked tight and my windows are barred and I'm sitting here eating chocolate...and I know I'm okay. I took my prozac.
The rules of parenting just aren't fair! You figure out one stage and the next day they change it all up on you! You have your kid sleeping through the night and then they decide it's necessary to sprout teeth. They don't sleep and YOU don't sleep. You get the teeth thing under control and then they start to crawl. Is that really something that needs to happen? I think Jr. is adorable in his very stationary play pen or walker or swing or whatever they're in that DOES NOT MOVE. But no, they have to start crawling, which leads to pulling up (and pulling things DOWN) and then they start walking. Then your life is REALLY over. The bathroom used to be my sanctuary. Looong bubble baths where you hide from the world with only your nose and eyes exposed so you can breath and read a book. Now I dash in, lock the door and listen to the screaming from the other side. As I hurry as fast as I can I watch as they poke things under the door. It took them a while but they've finally realized that their heads won't fit so hands, arms, toys, my favorite dishes, all get shoved under the door. To get off course a bit, I saw a quote once that I often think of. The world never beats a path to your door....unless you're in the bathroom.
Back to the unfair rules of parenting; now you have a walking child and everything in the world suddenly seems very large and dangerous because you know it can crush your baby. Just as you get the hang of that they start talking! At first it's so cute. Every new word is a treasure. When Donnie was 2 I baby sat a 3 year old little girl. That child never stopped talking from the second she walked in until the second she walked out. I told my mother in law how it was driving me insane and she laughed. She said "It's the stage she's in. You grow into the stages with your kids." I found that she was right, for the most part. However, Donnie is now in that talking stage. I think I'm gonna need some growth hormones for this stage. I promise you, sometimes I think my ears are bleeding. I've never hated the word "why" so much. I don't KNOW why! To add to his chatter box stage he's now developed a whiney but sassy mouth. I really shouldn't be surprised. I am his mother after all so he comes by most of the talking and sass honestly.
This week he asked for something. When I told him "no" he said "You are mean, and cranky, and grouchy!" I didn't know he KNEW any of those words and I really wanted to laugh. "Honey, just because Mommy says no doesn't make her all those things. That wasn't very nice."
Donnie says, "Well, you SHOULD say yes."
Mothering is a full time job. It's constant "Don't touch that!
Do you need to eat? Pizza is not breakfast food. Why are doughnuts breakfast food, umm, ask your dad.
Aw, you need a diaper change. Oh, you need ANOTHER diaper change.
Sticks don't go into your eyes. No, not your ears either.
I don't why your poo is brown. Is mine brown? Hmm..can't say I've check lately.
Sure I'll read you a book...THAT one again?
Why are you all wet?? Mud puddle in the yard huh, how did I miss that?
Don't poke your brother. Don't bite your brother. Don't lick your brother. Head butting is a no-no. Don't dump water on your brother. Don't pull your brother's hair.
No screeching in the house. No screeching outside! Birds are dropping from the sky!
By the end of the day I sit down on a mountain of laundry and see tiny, sticky foot prints all along my half mopped floor and I wonder what in the world did I get done today?? Then my 1 year old wraps his chubby arms around my neck and gives me the most disgusting but sweet kiss I've ever had, and my 3 year old pounces in my lap and I see how happy they are, and my life is complete.
Donnie's night time prayers are the icing on the cake. About 3 weeks ago I told Donnie that he can talk to Jesus about EVERYthing. God wants to hear all about his day. Donnie has taken me up on it, and I LOVE to hear what comes out of his mouth. Tonight he prayed "Dear Jesus, please help me to be good, and to get new tires on my bike, and for me to help GiGi and to play with Uncle Philip's phone and Jenn Jenn's phone and Momma's phone. Maybe I get a phone too? (Never. LOL) Be wif Daddy and Papa and I love you, amen."
Today when I was in the middle of all of the craziness of Motherhood I comforted myself with the thought "You know, every other Mother out there knows what I'm feeling." And then, that thought scared me because if every other Mother out there is feeling like this there are some crazy nut jobs, just like me! So my doors are locked tight and my windows are barred and I'm sitting here eating chocolate...and I know I'm okay. I took my prozac.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Poopy week :)
Let me start by saying that EVERYthing I'm about to write is the truth. It really did happen. It really, really did. I MENTIONED in an earlier blog about Seth and his tooth. I really need to start at the beginning. Seth has a false front tooth. (Left front to get technical) When he was a teen some kid elbowed him in a basket ball game and Seth lost his tooth. He wears what is called a "flipper." If you could take the roof of your mouth out and have a left front tooth hanging off of it, that is what a flipper looks like. It's really gross. Watching Seth brush his flipper (He has to hold it in his hand) really makes me dread getting old and getting dentures. It's not a turn on, I'll tell ya that. Anyway, this flipper only has the one tooth on it, and is kind of fragile. They are NOT cheap to replace. About 3 months ago Seth bit into some meat and broke the "tooth" part of the flipper off of the "roof of the mouth" part of the flipper. To save money Seth went and bought super glue and put it back together. It's held up for several months!
Sunday afternoon Seth put the flipper down on the nightstand. My dog Kali who has NEVER chewed anything decided it was yummy. I heard her gnawing on something and I assumed it was her bone. After I while I was getting tired of her grinding and I hollered at her to quit. She got up and I saw the "roof" part of the flipper!! I panicked! I ran over there and it was only the roof. No tooth!! I looked everywhere and didn't' see it. So, I found Seth and told him that the dog ate his tooth. He took it pretty well, and we spent the next 20 minutes looking for the tiny white tooth part of the flipper. We didn't find it. It's Sunday afternoon. Seth has to leave on business after church WITH NO TOOTH! We aren't from Arkansas and people around here (or on the business trip he had to go on) aren't really impressed with toothless people. Seth's parting words to me (so romantic, I cherished them all week) were "Watch that dog's poop! I want my tooth back!"
If you read my previous blog you know that I watched her closely and smashed each pile of warm disgutingness until I found it. I carried it on the smashing utensil I was using to my kitchen where I put it into an empty green bean can and filled that can up with soapy, bleach, peroxide, alcohol, febreeze, downy, tide, and scrubbing bubble water, and threw the smashing utensil in the trash. All of this was Monday. I left that tooth in my brew all week. Seth was coming home Thursday. He was SO happy I found his tooth because it was going to take WEEKS to get a new one. Thursday I had Esther and Joanna come over and while they were there I decided to leave them to watch my boys and I'd run a few errands. When I got back Joanna had done all my dishes! She is so sweet. I saw her and Esther out the door and started supper. Then it hit me...THE CAN OF GREEN BEANS WAS GONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I dug through the trash and there it was. NO TOOTH! I called Joanna and asked her what she had done with it. She had dumped it down the drain!!!! I go running across the house to look for plastic gloves. I was hollering "SHOOT, SHOOT SHOOT!" Before I realized Donnie was behind me hollering "Soot, soot, soot, soot" What side of the sink??? She said the left side and I felt a bit better, for a second. That side is my disposal. I couldn't find my gloves. Okay, I don't know if I have mentioned it but I'm a bit of a germ-aphobic. I don't change other people's kids, I don't touch slimy things, I don't put my hands into dirty water and I NEVER EVER EVER EVER put my hand in my disposal. That is like the unholy grail of all things disgusting and slimy. I knew Seth was going to kill me. I lived through WARM dog poop smashing, I guess I could live through this too. I dug in that disposal for 5 minutes. I pulled out things that NOAH had lost. Slime covered everything...I really was considering death by Seth a better option and then, I FOUND IT! I pulled that stupid tooth out of the drainer and dunked it back into a new brew of cleaners. I was so happy! I quickly poured some acid onto my hand to clean it. It's okay, no pain, no gain. Gotta be clean!
With my good hand I dialed Seth. I told him "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that your sisters helped me clean house today. The bad news is they dumped your tooth down the drain." From the other end of the phone he starts to scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NO! NO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I said "babe! I.... ("NOOOOO!) "Babe, wait!" (NOOOOOOO!!!!!!) Finally he stopped hollering long enough to hear me say "BUT I FOUND IT!" Then Seth starts to laugh and laugh and laugh, and then he starts to CRY! And then he starts to laugh and cry together. Then he says "I have to go, I think I'm hormonal.." The tooth is still sitting in the brew. Seth has to glue it back together this weekend. He's a brave soul, and he must really hate kissing cause I sure ain't gonna kiss him ever again! (okay, maybe I will if he gargles with bleach first) So that my friends is the story of the lost and found tooth. I tell you, it has been a POOPY week. :D
Sunday afternoon Seth put the flipper down on the nightstand. My dog Kali who has NEVER chewed anything decided it was yummy. I heard her gnawing on something and I assumed it was her bone. After I while I was getting tired of her grinding and I hollered at her to quit. She got up and I saw the "roof" part of the flipper!! I panicked! I ran over there and it was only the roof. No tooth!! I looked everywhere and didn't' see it. So, I found Seth and told him that the dog ate his tooth. He took it pretty well, and we spent the next 20 minutes looking for the tiny white tooth part of the flipper. We didn't find it. It's Sunday afternoon. Seth has to leave on business after church WITH NO TOOTH! We aren't from Arkansas and people around here (or on the business trip he had to go on) aren't really impressed with toothless people. Seth's parting words to me (so romantic, I cherished them all week) were "Watch that dog's poop! I want my tooth back!"
If you read my previous blog you know that I watched her closely and smashed each pile of warm disgutingness until I found it. I carried it on the smashing utensil I was using to my kitchen where I put it into an empty green bean can and filled that can up with soapy, bleach, peroxide, alcohol, febreeze, downy, tide, and scrubbing bubble water, and threw the smashing utensil in the trash. All of this was Monday. I left that tooth in my brew all week. Seth was coming home Thursday. He was SO happy I found his tooth because it was going to take WEEKS to get a new one. Thursday I had Esther and Joanna come over and while they were there I decided to leave them to watch my boys and I'd run a few errands. When I got back Joanna had done all my dishes! She is so sweet. I saw her and Esther out the door and started supper. Then it hit me...THE CAN OF GREEN BEANS WAS GONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I dug through the trash and there it was. NO TOOTH! I called Joanna and asked her what she had done with it. She had dumped it down the drain!!!! I go running across the house to look for plastic gloves. I was hollering "SHOOT, SHOOT SHOOT!" Before I realized Donnie was behind me hollering "Soot, soot, soot, soot" What side of the sink??? She said the left side and I felt a bit better, for a second. That side is my disposal. I couldn't find my gloves. Okay, I don't know if I have mentioned it but I'm a bit of a germ-aphobic. I don't change other people's kids, I don't touch slimy things, I don't put my hands into dirty water and I NEVER EVER EVER EVER put my hand in my disposal. That is like the unholy grail of all things disgusting and slimy. I knew Seth was going to kill me. I lived through WARM dog poop smashing, I guess I could live through this too. I dug in that disposal for 5 minutes. I pulled out things that NOAH had lost. Slime covered everything...I really was considering death by Seth a better option and then, I FOUND IT! I pulled that stupid tooth out of the drainer and dunked it back into a new brew of cleaners. I was so happy! I quickly poured some acid onto my hand to clean it. It's okay, no pain, no gain. Gotta be clean!
With my good hand I dialed Seth. I told him "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that your sisters helped me clean house today. The bad news is they dumped your tooth down the drain." From the other end of the phone he starts to scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NO! NO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I said "babe! I.... ("NOOOOO!) "Babe, wait!" (NOOOOOOO!!!!!!) Finally he stopped hollering long enough to hear me say "BUT I FOUND IT!" Then Seth starts to laugh and laugh and laugh, and then he starts to CRY! And then he starts to laugh and cry together. Then he says "I have to go, I think I'm hormonal.." The tooth is still sitting in the brew. Seth has to glue it back together this weekend. He's a brave soul, and he must really hate kissing cause I sure ain't gonna kiss him ever again! (okay, maybe I will if he gargles with bleach first) So that my friends is the story of the lost and found tooth. I tell you, it has been a POOPY week. :D
My week with Donnie
What a C-R-A-Z-Y week! I am the master of all things bonkers but seriously, even this week has me saying "I think I need to see a shrink and invest in some happy pills." (Not for real...)
Through this insane week my boys have kept me laughing. Donnie has inherited his mother's quick wit (Notice I do understand my "wit" is singular and not plural. I only have one... :) and his father's bargaining power. It showed up Wednesday when we had an issue over his shoes. Donnie has hit the "whine, whine, whine stage." It is seriously about to drive me up the wall. I said "Donnie, take your shoes off." Instantly the whine box "I caaaaaaaaan't, I caaaaaaaaaan't." They are croc's for heaven sake, yes you caaaaaaaaaaaan.
After about 2 minutes of the I caaaaaaaaaan't he finally managed to slip them off. As soon as they were off he said "Can I have your phone?" I told him "No way! You were just whining and Mommy doesn't like whining. If you whine you don't get prizes." A fountain of tears erupted. By this time my mommy heart has turned off to all tears and I see right through this act. "Go to bed Donald Lewis Green. When you are done crying you may come out." Oh the wails that came from that room for about 5 minutes. Finally it got quiet and I heard his door creak open. He walked back into the living room and
with the tears still fresh on his face he says "Can I have your phone." I repeated, "Donnie! You WHINED about your shoes and then cried when I said no! All of that is very naughty! NO PHONE!" He meekly looks up at me and his father's bargaining side took over. "How about dis," he says, "Is this a good idea? How about I put my shoes back on, then take them off without whining!!" My jaw hit the floor. He's THREE! I am a grown person and don't think that way. (I agreed to his bargain too, the little jew.)
Later that night as I was putting him to bed we were talking about how old he is. I asked him how old he would be on his birthday. He told me 4, and then I asked "What would you like for your birthday." Without batting an eyelash he said "A phone." I couldn't help but laugh and I told him that he's WAY too young for a phone but what else would he like. Again, without even thinking about it he said, "Money! Lots of money." He's not even a teenager yet...Lord help me.
Probably my favorite Donnie moment this week was when I made stuffed peppers. Seth hates green peppers and since Seth wasn't home this week I thought I'd treat myself. I made some very delicious stuffed peppers. I forgot that I have mini-Seth's living with me though and BOTH boys hated the green peppers. I told Donnie "You have to eat ONE bite." After much bribing and a few dire threats he ate his bite. After he fulfilled his duty I scraped the insides out of the pepper for him. When I placed the pepper to the side Donnie picked it up and examined it. There was some white stuff on the inside left from the seeds. Donnie asked "what is that?" I told him it was part of the pepper, God made it that way."
Donnie asked "God made peppers?"
"Yes He did, Donnie"
Donnie's next question...
"So, God don't LIKE me?!"
Today Donnie was a bit rowdy and I had to get onto him. He cried his heart out for a few minutes but then he developed a grouchy attitude about being in trouble. He stuck out his lower lip and started wallowing on the floor, wiping his face on my pillow. I started to scold him.
"Donnie, no pouting and don't wipe your face on my pillows, please."
Donnie looked very hurt and said "But I HAVE to wipe my cries (tears) off!"
And finally, tonight I put Donnie in bed at 8:00. He's been sick and needs some extra sleep. At 10 I went to check on him and he's still awake!!! He had stripped naked, stripped his bed and all the bed clothes and pillows were on the floor!
"Donald Lewis Green! What are you DOING?"
Donnie said "I'm just finking"
"Thinking about WHAT!"
"I was finking about how I don't want to get in trouble"
He didn't get in trouble. It's hard to scold a kid who's so cute and so quick on his "finking" feet.
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