Christmas fun

Annie has been really into Christmas this year. She wants to hear Christmas music and do the advent calendars. She's constantly asking if we can put up more Christmas lights outside (we haven't quite got around to that yet) and she has already "written" her letter to Santa. She's caught the bug, and it's refreshing to see it through a child's eyes. Here's a couple of my favorite Annie moments that are Christmas specific . . .

(First Story) She plays with the "little people" nativity set that I got on sale last year. She's very gentle with Jesus, and because she performed in the nativity play with her preschool she knows the story. She likes to play act with the little pieces - and sometimes Mary and Joseph reprimand the little Jesus with time-outs and spankings. While she likes playing with the nativity, she also likes playing with playdough. She has a renewed interest in making things out of colored clay. She can spend hours making "cookies" and bright pink mustaches. Last night, John came into the kitchen (the only place playdough is allowed) and asked her what she was doing. Her response? "I'm playing with playdough . . . and Jeeeeesus."

(Second Story) Annie wants a banjo for Christmas. Yes, you read that correctly. My four year old wants Santa to bring her a banjo. When she first told us this, I asked her if she knew what a banjo was and she promptly placed her hands in the "air guitar" position and said "der-der-der-der-der" just like you would imagine a banjo would sound. I then went on the internet and showed her a picture of a banjo and played her some banjo music. She got excited yet again and said that "for sure" she wants a banjo. I told my mother this and she said, "then you have to get her a banjo and some lessons!" Oh, sweet mother of mine. Even if I wanted to spend over $200 on a real banjo (yes, that's how much small ones cost), where would I find someone to teach my four-year-old child how to play? So she will be getting this as a viable alternative. We love our daughter, I promise.

I hope you are all celebrating this Christmas season!

$28

What can you get for $28? All kinds of things. Last week, I bought a pressure canner on a super sale for about that. We could go out as a family and have a pretty nice supper. I can now buy a tank of gas for less than $28 and still have a few dollars left over for a slurpee.

For whatever reason, Annie thinks that $28 is a magical number. I bought her a pretty dress for the Christmas season and she told everyone she met at church that "My mommy bought it at the store for 28 dollars." According to her, the $5 soccer cleats I got at the thrift store were $28 as well. Today, we were at the store and I looked up the price on a little crafty item and decided to put it away after I learned it was a little too expensive. Annie asked me why I put it back and I told her that it cost a little more than I wanted to spend. She then asked me, "Was it 28 dollars?"

I'm tempted to give her $28 for Christmas and let her see exactly what it would buy, but maybe that's taking it a little too far.

Daddy's girl

Our conversation on the way to preschool this morning . . .

Annie: I'm going to marry him.
Me: Oh, that man on the motorcycle?
Annie: Yes, I like motorcycles and he has a beard.
Me: Those are good qualifications for a husband. Are you sure you want to marry him?
Annie: Yes, I'm going to marry him after I marry Daddy
Me: But Daddy's already married to me!
Annie: But he can have two!
Me: Nope, it doesn't work that way. You're just going to have to marry the man on the motorcycle.
Annie: Well, then you need to follow him.
Me: We can't follow him. That would be rude.
Annie: But I'm going to marry hiiiim (as he turns the opposite direction of us) . . .
Me: Sorry.
Annie: (Big sigh) I guess I'll have to marry that guy over there in the hard hat.

That's high standards baby!

What would we do without . . .

Annie: Knock knock.
Me: Who's there?
Annie: Boo
Me: Boo hoo
Annie: Why you crying little girl?

She laughs hysterically every time she says it. And she says it many, many times a day.

I tried to teach her the banana/orange one, but she gets confused after the second banana. I also tried teaching her the "Dwayne the tub I'm dwowning," one, but it will take a little more work. She's got the "boo" one down, so she uses it. All. The. Time.

So I need some better jokes. Something that a 4 year old would understand and be able to duplicate. Knock knock jokes seem to be funny to her, but anything will do. I need at least three or four more jokes - even if Annie doesn't.

Please.

The storms of life

7:00 is Annie's bedtime. Especially if she hasn't had a nap. Sometimes we start the process at about 6:45 so that she is asleep at 7:00. One of the good things about Annie is that she realized that sleep was important very, very young. She slept through the night at about 6 weeks old and has literally never looked back. I don't think this is a record of our amazing parenting. I really think that Annie just knows that sleep is a vital part of feeling good. I realized this when she was about 2 and told me it was time for her nap.

Not only does she go to sleep well, she stays asleep. A couple of months ago when she was at her grandparents house, a pretty big earthquake (5 pointer!) hit with the epicenter being just miles away from where she was. It was during the day, but she was tired and so her grandma told her to go take a nap. Without her being tucked in or sang to or anything, she went into a bedroom and took a nap. Amazingly, she slept through the whole earthquake - even the aftermath of other children screaming in terror. She can sleep through just about anything.

Last night a big monsoon hit around 7:00. The storm was so wild that when we opened our front door to look at it, the door whooshed open so quickly that it slammed John's arm into the wall (he's fine). The rain and the wind made it look like waves on the ocean. To top it all off, it was NOISY! We thought at first that it was hail, but after looking at it, we realized it was just really, really big drops of rain. The house sounded like we were being pelted by very small rocks.

We hear the tired screams of Annie. "Mooooooommmy. Daaaaaady." Daddy goes in to check on her since I am on the phone. He calms her down and tells her to not be afraid. He tells her that it will stop soon and it's just rain so there is nothing to be scared of. What does she tell her? "Daddy, I'm not scared. It just waked me up!"

It must have been a bigger storm than I thought.

Counter-intuitive

We've been teaching Annie about proper language lately. She thinks it's funny to say "poop" and "pee" and "boobie" at inappropriate times. We've told her that as long as she's on the potty, she can say potty words, but if she's not on the potty, they aren't appropriate. So now, when she is on the potty, she is known to say all the potty words in a row, "pooppeetootboob," and then exclaim "but I'm on the potty!"

She's caught us a couple of times saying potty words. Sometimes they are honest mistakes and we have had to put ourselves in time-out. Other times, like today, John just says a word that Annie perceives to be a potty word. Today when he was talking to me, Annie immediately piped up and told me that Daddy said a forbidden potty word.

"What potty word did he say?" I said.
"Tooty."
"Tooty?"
"Yes, he said tooty."

We then realized that Daddy had said "Counter-intuitive" in the middle of his conversation with me.

We explained what Counter-intuitive meant, but I still think she thinks Daddy needs to be in time-out.

She's gone

Since I will be a cook at girls camp this year, we decided that Annie needed a week-long vacation to Grandma and Grandpa in California. We drove in last Friday, spent a fun weekend with the fam and then got back into town last night sans child. We had to beg her for hugs and kisses when we left, and she said "bye" from a distant bedroom (she was playing with her cousins).

It was an interesting ride home without Annie in the backseat. I kept seeing things on the side of the road to tell her about - "look Annie, a horsie!" - but she wasn't there to appreciate it, and I'm pretty sure John doesn't get excited about horsie's anymore.

I woke up this morning and went into the living room where Annie usually meets me with a good morning hug. We have a couple of rituals, which she probably doesn't care anything about, but I missed her this morning. I'll miss her again tonight when she goes to bed. For the last month or so, she has been fascinated with her dreams. For a couple of nights, she was scared that she would have bad dreams, so I calmed her down and told her that she will dream about good things - like bunnies and clouds. It's become a salutation of sorts at night now. Instead of "goodnight," I say "Bunnies and Clouds." She responds with, "Bunnies and clouds and soccer balls," of course.

Good morning my sweet baby. And "Bunnies and Clouds."

I love you and miss you.

Feelin' the love

A fun thing happened at sacrament meeting today. Today was High Council sunday, and we were blessed to hear from the high councilman from our ward. He was assigned to talk about our scripture of the month, which is 3 Nephi 11:29, "For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and he stirreth up the hearts of men to contend with anger, one with another."

So he was talking about anger and contention and how we need to rid our homes and lives of it and the way to do that is to displace it with love. He got a little fired up about what he was saying and then he said, loudly, "Do we love one another?"

Annie replied just as loud, "YAH!!"

Everyone around us laughed, but I don't think Bro. Nelson heard us. We were giggling for a good 5 minutes after she said it.

I guess I should be happy that we have given her enough love that she feels the need to exclaim it to the world.

Summer Daze

Summer is here - and boy is it hot! It seems like we live in our pool. Either that or we go from our pool to someone elses pool. My hair is in a constant state of damp. If it wasn't for the chlorine, I would be growing mold.

I actually love summer, and I actually don't mind the blistering heat. We are blessed to be able to keep our house at a reasonable temperature throughout the day, and both our cars have A/C - so I can't really complain.

And popsicles . . . oh boy do I love popsicles! My mom and dad used to take us through the drive-thru dairy in Chino and get Big Sticks and Sidewalk Sundaes. The Sidewalk Sundaes were our favorites - chocolate coated vanilla ice cream with a streak of dark fudge on the inside. I didn't realize how much I adored the Big Sticks until I moved to the South and couldn't find them anywhere under any name. They are a pineapple/cherry popscicle that I really missed - until I found them at every grocery store in Arizona. The only problem is that they are not quite the same.

The Big Sticks of my youth were heavily flavored and rather slushie-like - I feel like I can suck all the juice out of the imitation Big Sticks and all I'd be left with is a ice-pop. But I'll take them rather than leave them. They still remind me of backyard swingsets, hot porches, burning skin and many happy afternoons. It's those kind of memories I want to pass onto Annie.

This is the reason I will only allow Annie to eat popscicles outside - even if it is 120 degrees. It's not because I can't stand the drips!

Silly boys . . . tricks are for girls

Annie came up to me yesterday after a full day of playing and swimming and rested her head on my shoulder. Every once in a while she needs a cuddle - O.K. - it's all the time she needs a cuddle. She's a very touchy-feely little person. I say that she doesn't think it's real unless she's felt it.

So she's giving me a cuddle and talking my ear off at the same time. "Mommy, I love you," and I repeat back that I love her, too. And then she gives the clincher, "Mommy, I feel like a boy." That takes me a second to process, but I've always been told that you need to let kids explain themselves. What you think is not always what they mean. So I ask her to tell me about feeling like a boy. "Mommy, I feel silly, just like a boy."

Then she starts giggling and making funny sounds and saying "poop" just because she knows it drives Mommy mad. I tell her that girls can be silly, too. She doesn't believe me - probably because Daddy is so much sillier than Mommy.

So, I think I need to take silly lessons. I think I'm going to take them from Annie - she's the silliest girl I know.

I've been trying

Last week, I had enough. I was sick of Annie pestering me about wanting to watch cartoons for the billionth time, or about getting a new toy or book. It was really about having any kind of privilege while the house was covered in Polly Pocket shoes and plastic fruit while Annie was still in Pajamas.

I figured there had to be a better way. And there is!

I went online and found a free chore chart and loaded it up with things that I wanted her to get done every day (brush teeth, say prayers, make bed, get dressed before 7:00 a.m., have her hair done, pick up toys). Then I loaded some extras that she could do after all of her daily stuff was done (dust, vaccuum, clean toy closet, help with laundry), and I also put some fun things that she could do if mommy was in the mood (read a book, practice letters and numbers, write her name). Each item carries with it a single point, and watching an episode of a cartoon costs 10 points. She can save up her points and buy a book or a small toy.

The strides in her behavior have been great. She gets dressed quickly now - and doesn't complain about me doing her hair. She asks me for things to do on the list instead of asking to watch a cartoon. I think my house is cleaner, if only because she can't watch cartoons in a dirty house - and she's motivated to clean up after herself.

It's been working. I'm just hoping I can keep it up.

The cupcake dress

Having a mother who sews is a blessing. Having a grandmother (with currently only two granddaughters) who sews is the most awesome thing on the planet. When you have a grandmother who likes to sew for her granddaughters, you get a cupcake dress that you can wear to church.

There are rules to wearing the cupcake dress to church.

1. You always have to smile - it's hard to be sad when you are wearing frosting.

2. Always offer anyone who smiles back at you a pretend cupcake, straight from the top pocket. Be prepared for spontaneous hugs and kisses.

3. Beg your mother to wear your cupcake dress while you eat. Promise you will not get anything on it and you will make sure to wipe your hands on the napkin, not your dress.

4. Tell everyone who asks (which will be many people) that your Grandma Cathy made the cupcake dress, and then stand back and watch the jealousy.

We've got a puker!

Annie's has allergies and because of those allergies, she pukes. Her doctor explained it to me that her drippings don't drain out, they stay inside her. So when a large amount of drip enters her stomach, her little stomach rebels. This usually happens in the middle of the night - starting right around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. and continuing until there is nothing left in her stomach. This morning it took until about 7:30 a.m.

Claritin helps a lot, but I guess it doesn't help everything. As a faithful mother, I get up every time she hollers "Mommy," go into her bedroom, and let her puke on me. This begins the process. Then, if I am at all awake, I run to the linen closet and grab a towel. I try to get her to the bathroom, but she still doesn't get the whole "spew into this" concept and it is sometimes easier to just get a towel and let her do her business in the comfort of her room.

My question is - is there a better way? I am truly asking anybody out there for puking advice. I don't know if there is another way to do it. Towels seem to be ever so cleanable - but am I missing something?

I seem to remember my own mother bringing in a LARGE stainless steel bowl when we weren't feeling well. I never remember actually puking into the bowl, but someone must have because whenever I suggested stomach ailment, it was always brought out and set (coldly) in my bed along with an old towel.

Now that I read that last sentence, I realize that this just prolonged her stay in bed by a few minutes. We still wanted our Mommy to be with us as we puked. If nothing else, she could hold our hair and get our shaky selves a cup of water to rinse with.

So even if I get really good advice the physical aspects of a puking child, I suppose I am destined to get up multiple times a night when she upchucks. I guess that's what being a Mommy is really about.

Fun conversation with Annie today

After falling on a pile of Lincoln Logs

Annie: Owwwwww! It hurts! (she's crying a little)
Me: Aww, does your arm hurt? I'm so sorry.
Annie: It's not my arm!
Me: What is it?
Annie: It's this (pointing to her wrist).
Me: Oh - you're wrist hurts.
Annie: Yea, my list. (the crying stops)
Me: It's not a list, it's a wrist.
Annie: What's a wrist?
Me: It's that thing you hurt.
Annie: Right here?
Me: Yea, right there.
Annie: And it's not a list?
Me: Nope, it's a wrist. A list is what we take to the store.
Annie: Oh . . . I forgot, I need a Bandaid to feel me better. (the crying begins again)

What's the ploblem?

Annie is still learning the English language - therefore, she makes mistakes. Her most frequent mistake is forgetting that "he" and "she" are different. Darn pronouns! Since that only becomes an issue with anyone with gender ambiguity, we tend to correct her immediately and teach her correct principles.

Our favorite mistake that she has made happened a few weeks ago when she very seriously came up to me and asked me "What's the ploblem, Mommy?" I of course said that there was no ploblem. Nope - no ploblem with me. We laughed about it, and encouraged her to say it again and again and again. We are ruthless!

I know, I know. We are perpetuating something that we, as parents, should stop. But it's so darn cute. Excruciatingly cute.

So, tell me. What's the ploblem with encouraging cuteness???

Adventures with invisible dogs

Annie has created some invisible friends. They have some unique characteristics that I think need to be shared so that all can enjoy . . .

1. They are all dogs.

2. Only one of them has a name - Go-Ghee (I think that's how it's spelled, since it's not Go "Jee" - it's definitely Go-Ghee).

3. They change shape at her will - sometimes they are big (especially when she's frightened), but thankfully they are usually small.

4. If Annie really wants something, she always says her "doggies" want it. Like this afternoon when she wanted her own bowl of popcorn - she asked very nicely if her doggies could have a small bowl all their own.

5. Annie's doggies are potty trained. She's very proud of her dogs being able to go pee-pee in the potty, and we make a big deal about it, too. It doesn't seem to make her any more excited about putting her own fluids in the potty.

6. She got very upset at me a few nights ago when I kissed her, then I kissed her doggies (blowing kisses works best for them) and then said goodnight. She wanted me to kiss her last.

7. She takes complete care of them. If her doggies want their socks and shoes on - she has to put them on. If her doggies want a blanket, she has to get it for them.

8. Sometimes when you ask her to do something, she tells you that her doggies have to do it first. Tonight when we were saying prayers, her doggies said prayers first (they have voices that are higher pitched than Annie's - how 'bout that!) and then she was able to say her prayers.

9. She loves her doggies and tucks them into bed at night. She feeds them and gives them love when they are scared. It's very sweet.

I hope imaginary friends are a sign of intelligence - but even if they're not, I'm having a lot of fun with this stage.

duh!!

These were a couple of conversations I had with Annie today . . .

On our way out the door . . .

Annie: Mommy, I don't want a pink pony tail, I just want straight hair
Me: Mommy really wants you to have a pony tail, it will make things easier
Annie: But I don't want to make things easier
Me: I've realized that
Annie: Don't realize that - I just want straight hair (yelling at this point)

Whilst making cookies . . .

Annie: Mommy, I smell burn
Me: Oh goodness (while lifting up the pizzelle maker to see two burned cookies) these are beyond . . .
Annie: Is there anything else that is beyond? Look Mommy, these are beyond, too.
Me: Thanks kid

Directly after an unfortunate and accidental stroller dumping during an early-morning walk

Mommy: I'm so sorry - but you're going to have to stop crying.
Annie: But I hurt!
Mommy: I understand, but what do you want me to do about it right now?
Annie:
Mommy: I can cut off your hand!
Annie: No!!!
Mommy: What then?
Annie: Mommy, can I get a hug?

This is my life

So here I am, sitting on the couch upstairs while my daughter is sleeping next to me. She was exhausted today because of preschool and going over to a friends house. I know I need to pick her up and put her in her bed, but I'm liking her head on my shoulder. I know these tranquil moments are soon going to be replaced by less tranquility.

When did my little girl grow up?

I held a little five-week-old baby today and, while I wasn't uncomfortable with the whole experience, I definitely felt out of practice. Babies are so floppy, so wiggly, so terribly small. How did I ever do it? I guess we all have more in us than we think we do.

So this is my life. My really good life. I love my husband and my daughter and we are "a family," even if we don't have a bazillion kids. I would love to have more kids, but if this treatment doesn't work, I hope that I will still be happy with what I have. I hope I won't unwind and think that my life is somehow not blessed. I hope that I will continue to savor Annie's breath on my arm. I hope I will feel as honored as I do tonight to be Annie's Mommy. She's one special kid.

Our Sweet Annie

She's beautiful. She's redheaded. She gets noticed because she's cute. But lately, she has been really communicating with strangers in stores. She's very excited about Halloween, and I bet everyone in the valley now knows that Annie is "freeee years old" and that she's "gonna be a Doctor for Halloween."

She also loves to sing about what's going on in her life. We've been in the aisles of Target and Annie has been singing "I'm going to be put in Time Out and Mommy will swat my bottom if I am bad," or "I like cookies," or my personal favorite, "I don't talk about Mommy's boobies," all set to song. She's always very happy when she's singing, and when she starts talking about inappropriate things, people seem to always be very gracious instead of judgmental. Maybe they don't understand what she's saying yet!

Because of preschool she has also learned the entire Pledge of Allegiance and, in the middle of any random activity, will put her hand on her heart and recite the entire thing, with very few mistakes. I still need to get out the video camera and record this for eternity.

She also loves to count - with a little help she can count to 100. She'll say 29, 20-ten, 20-eleven, if we don't correct her and tell her that 30 comes after 29. It makes me wish there was a song for counting!

Her favorite toys are usually the ones that I have found in the dollar section at Target. Little musical instruments or trains that only need a push to go the entire length of the carpet. She also still loves to dress up and be with her preschool friends.

She is still VERY tall for her age and people always think she should be in school. She had another growth spurt recently and went up three sizes in shoes and another size in clothes. It's getting hard to buy shirts because the ones that fit her around are never long enough. Her length is in her torso - which also means she's clumsier than her friends. She hasn't figured out her center of gravity yet.

Ahh . . . the life of a 3-year-old.

Goodbye to the Daniel Shirt

When we were in South Carolina, John was the 11-year-old scout leader at church. He never had more than two boys at a time, but he loved this calling. He took them camping, taught them nuclear physics, and basically endeared a generation of boys to him. Because of the new rules about never being alone in the same room with a scout (a good rule, by the way) - Annie and I were usually in the same room while all this was going on (except we weren't allowed to go camping with them - they had Dads for that). The last 11-year-old that we were involved with was Daniel. Daniel was - and probably still is - an amazing scout. He proudly wore his scout shirt and brought his book and always wanted to learn what John was teaching. Since he was always kind to our little girl, Annie adored Daniel. He would make her laugh and give her hugs and be a remarkably responsible young man with Annie. We loved him and had some fun experiences in scouting.

So we move to Arizona and I get called to be a cub scout leader. I love this calling and get really into it. I bought a shirt and put all the leader patches on it, and every Wednesday night I wear it proudly while I recite the cub scout promise and the pledge of allegiance. I love these 8-year-old boys - but the thing I love the most is when I put my shirt on my daughter calls me "Daniel." She calls it my "Daniel Shirt" and that we're going to "Daniel Scouts," but she also really calls me "Daniel." For example - "Daniel, we need to have supper." and "What are you doing, Daniel?" She calls me "Daniel" until I come home from scouts and take the shirt off. I then become plain old "Mommy" again - without even a nod that I was anyone else.

A couple weeks ago, I was released from cub scouts and put into the young women program. I now am the leader of the 12 and 13 year old girls. I don't have to come up with skits every month or do the funny claps (Who wants a 'round' of applause?). I traded sweaty boys for beautiful sweet-smelling girls. I really like my new calling and I'm beginning to get to know the girls better every time I'm with them - but the one thing that I really hate about being released? I won't ever get to wear my "Daniel Shirt". It makes me kindof sad to think that she'll forget about Daniel. I love that she remembers him when she sees me in the shirt. I love that I remember South Carolina and the good people that were there. I really want her to remember that she was born in a wonderful environment - that there were people there that were as close as family.

So maybe I'll put on the "Daniel shirt" every once in a while and show her pictures of the actual Daniel. Maybe she'll remember a good memory - in the only way a three-year-old can really remember - symbolically in a shirt.