Musings

It's after noon on Friday.

I have just finished reading Morgan a "My Little Pony" book in which I must have said the name "Twinkle Twirl" 20 times. It's the kind of name that I would have loved as a little girl. That, and anything glittery, rainbowy and overly dramatic. My Little Pony fits all those categories. Laughing... I always feel a bit saccharine-y after reading it. Every page has rainbows, pink and purple. The moral of the stories end up with "best friends forever". Which, as we all know, is how every story should end. Note to self: Do NOT let her read Where the Red Fern Grows.

Earlier today I forgot that school was closed. We took a tour de Naperville and headed home upon that realization. My morning allocated to freelance work became the morning of "quick-what-to-do-with-Morgan". She was particularly "on" today which meant that quietly playing around the house was pretty much a pipedream.

Fortunately my friend Beth was nearby so we went sledding with our kiddos. It was 36 degrees and relatively warm for a sledding day. I was a little concerned when we pulled up to the park for sledding: a sign greeted us with tidings of "sledding that could lead up to death". We laughed it off uncomfortably.

My strong willed child is very comfortable with being home or doing very little. Too much stimulation and she goes bonkers. We were invited to go to the Dupage Children's Museum, but with school being out today, I imagined every Tom, Dick and Harry running around there. I didn't want to fork out the dough for a day of Morgan embracing the fetal position in a public place. No, the sledding was much more appropriate for her today.

The past week has been relatively good for our relationship. Raising a strong willed child involves some strategy and flexibility. I'd be lying if I thought my job was harder than those with many children, but for the time being God has granted me only one child. And since He has only given me one, I suppose He thought best for us to wrestle our wills a bit to bide the time. That's what I keep telling myself.

But lately we've been giggling, reading stories and joking together. Confrontations that normally end up with several time-outs are petering out into joking and rolling eyes. It's a nice change of pace. I'm thankful for every moment.

Well, I assume that my "Twinkle Twirl" daughter is safely sleeping now. I'd best get back to my freelance work.

Morgan Chart

Lately we've been finding that Morgan doesn't get into a groove in the morning very well, so we've been using this chore chart lately and *voila* now our daughter is perfect. *wink* Dan has one, too. *double wink*

(Side note: For the jokers among you, "happy stairs" are when Morgan goes down the stairs without a, er, problem. It's her vice.)



And a drawing of a heart by my budding artist. :)

Love

The heart is funny, isn't it?

This summer I didn't want to go to Dan's college reunion. I didn't want to see someone there who had really hurt me years ago. I went anyway and it was no big deal. In fact, several women there encouraged me in my fertility journey. I actually met new friends. Bonus.

Later, I was reluctant to send out some cards to family and friends who I haven't seen in a while. It had info about our family info in it and some tidbits about our life. I was afraid.

But I stand corrected: I am SO glad that I have been able to reunite with family and friends who I have not spoken to in 5 or 10 years. I've received such uplifting emails and letters as a result.

So here it is: When I allow my life to be open to others, there is always a risk of being hurt. But there is also a chance of being overwhelmed by love.

Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again. Ecclesiastes 11:1

Blessings

Today I was feeling sorry for myself. I don't know why, it's just a "me" thing to do. Oh wait, I remember now... because I easily forget all the blessings in my life... that's the reason. Plus, I'm on this medication which makes me feel emotionally weird.

Anyhoo... then I watched a snippet of "John and Kate plus Eight" (the couple with sextuplets and twins) and suddenly I had

ENERGY

VIGOR

MEANING

and NO EXCUSES.

Wow...what a great way to get me off my butt.

Sky

Attention everyone!

Today the gray Chicago clouds made room for a big swath of sky in a color that I used to remember as blue. That's right. Blue.

I drank it in.

Snippets of Motherhood

It's 7:30 in the morning. I think I've already washed 7 cups that were sitting around the kitchen or other places of the house.

Little kids may be little but they sure need a lot of cups.

____________________________

I was really proud of Morgan this morning. She changed her mind about wanting jam on her toast. Too late. I already baptized it with Smuckers. She was on the verge of a fit but was able to pull through. She found a way to wipe off the jam.

I was wiping off the kitchen counters and thinking of how proud I was of her when I found the jam she wiped. In the washcloth. I was holding. And rewiping all over the countertops.

____________________________

What inspires a 4 year old girl to "dry" her purple marker on the white guest towels in the bathroom?

Monday

This weekend I joined the community gym for a month. It's great...I get out of the house, pound out any stress on a treadmill and *sometimes* I get to watch the gym TV.

Today was the first time I took Morgan with me. For a nominal fee, they have a small gym for kids where they can work out their stress (ahahhaaa) for an hour. Morgan loved it.

Our community center is attached to our library, so afterwards, Morgan and her sweaty momma hit the books.

(Side note: When you go to the library or use anything "community" related, do you feel really good inside? I do. I feel like I've done something "green and earthy" or watched my tax dollars at work.)

Upon entering the building, Morgan pronounced the librarian a "really big fat lady". She didn't say it with malice, just as a point of fact. And she was right. Nevertheless my mothering skills kicked in and I educated her in the school of nice.

We came home, grilled a cheese sandwich for her and some soup and just plain enjoyed each other.

Ordinarily I would feel a tad guilty for, well, doing anything for me. But I accept the gift that it was. Time for relieving some stress. A low key morning with my daughter. Going to the library.

I was talking to a friend recently who said that her mother was always busy doing errands and chores. She wished her mother was more available. For sitting and chatting. For playing.

I can't say that I'll be as available for Morgan as she'd like, but I have learned that when I take care of myself, I'm better able to take care of her.

Let's hope it works. :)

Camp

Dear Mom and Dad,

Camp Whatsamatta-This-Is-Illinois is interesting.

For starters, to "thicken my blood", I had to endure one cold winter. Not the 30-40 degrees days you're accustomed to, mind you. No, my camp counselor had us enjoy 5 degree days. If we didn't grin and bear it, then we were considered "woosies". I used to be a "woosie" but I've been promoted to "wimple".

I can put your mind at ease, however. Today was a very warm upper 20 degree day and it felt like 70. I think my blood is thickening nicely, or else my skull is.

Meanwhile, to toughen us up, we were made to endure a game we called "Cabin Fever". The object is to stay inside your cabin for 4 months without going mad. I'm doing pretty well and only have a slight twitch.

Our last feat was to keep a pet alive in this weather as well. They ran out of puppies, so I was assigned a cute 4 year old girl who looks like a kitty, but barks like a dog. I did manage to keep her alive as well. She likes cereal.

Anyway, please send sun. I need to thaw.

Love, Emily

Room with a View

Hearing about Kris lately reminded me that we are not alone:

A few weeks ago Morgan threw such a big tantrum in her room that all her toys were nearly covering her carpet. I took a page out of my friend Beth's book and decided to confiscate them. I had Morgan help me fill trash bags with her stuff.

Each bag had one "set" of toys in it: one bag for doll house stuff, one for doll clothes, etc. I put the bags in the empty bedroom across the hall from her and told her that she had to earn them back. Each day I would give her a chore, such as folding clothes, which would earn her one bag.

Her room was instantly cleaner. Nicer even. We could breathe. We stepped on toys less often.

The toys in the other room were really not missed. In fact, she has only earned back one thing, which was her clothes hamper. (Yes, I even took away the clothes hamper.) And the weird thing is, it was HER choice to earn back her clothes hamper first.

My plan was to help my daughter control her temper. But it has been having an added benefit. Looks like these toys will be "promoted" to basement status. They're nice toys, just a little much for her room.

And if they're not used in the basement either, then I'll give them away. There is no sense in keeping toys just to have "stuff" for kids to play with. Besides, the friends Morgan has love to play with legos and other "building" toys when they come over. Why do I overstimulate them with this clutter?

Knight

I was supermom today.

Translation: I did nothing but stay in the general vicinity of Morgan all day to play with her or talk with her.

I'm not naturally inclined to spend my day this way, but she was insistent and we were waiting for Dan.

About a half hour before Dan got home, we went up to her room to watch for him out of her bedroom window.

Then I heard a *click* sound. She has a lock on the outside of her doorknob. She locked us in her room.

I never anticipated this, so I never put a key above her door. Fortunately my knight in shining armor was dashing through the snow in a one horsepower Corolla, so I didn't have anything to fret.

We stayed there for a half hour talking and giggling. Then I asked her, "Why did you lock us in your room?"

Her response was precious: "Now you have to stay and have a sleepover with me."

Dan came home a little later to two females screaming "I love you" from the upstairs bedrooms. He rescued us.

Survival of the Fattest

Dan has been gone for two days. It's not bad.

When he told Morgan, "Honey, I'm going to California" she didn't know what to say.

Then she retorted: "Sorry, California is closed today." I felt the same way.

I'm becoming one of the seasoned masses of stay-at-homers who are learning to put away anything more than "survival mode" when hubby is out of town. Dinner is PB&J or Cheerios. Or McDonalds.

I've been to McDonalds for at least 3 meals in the past 2 days. I think I heard my stomach actually "yelp" when it saw the golden arches again. I'm grateful for food, don't get me wrong, but sometimes good old McD's is hard on the adult system. Yes, even the salads. I swear I've gained 5 pounds since he left.

As I reread this post, I can see that this may be construed as complaining. My point wasn't really to complain but to acknowledge that I have adjusted, wised-up, if you will, to the single-parent role. I'm a bit proud of myself for keeping it simple. The artist in me wants everything to be *beautiful* and *perfect* and *inspiring*, but the mommy in me knows to tone it down.

Besides, I'll get back to those artistic things. One day.

For now, I'm raising someone far more interesting than anything in my portfolio.

Valentine's Day Fun

I forgot to post this Valetine's Week:

Morgan had her first Valentine's party today.

When we got home I let her read all her letters.

Almost all of them had either 1) temporary tattoos or 2) candy.

I let her eat all the candy immediately. Might as well.

Then came the tattoos.

I was on the phone when she put on the first one. I was pretty darn impressed. She remembered the wet cloth and to count to "20". Good job, Morgan. She applied another and another. Legs and arms were covered.

Then she asked if she could put one on her forehead. At least she asked.

Since I'm not raising a tribesperson, I gave her the kybosh on that one. I had visions of Lorraine Bracco in the movie "Medicine Man"... you know... the one with Sean Connery where she gets that permanent blue forehead tattoo. Hilarious.

Point is, temporary or not, I'm not okay with forehead tattoos.

Since I nixed her brilliant idea, I had to enjoy a tattoo of my own on my wrist.

I let her use them all up.

She got more in the mail, but I let those slide by her watchful eyes into the waiting trash can. We've had enough tattoo fun. :)

A Little Diddy About Split Pea Soup

Split pea soup
Split pea soup
It's green when you eat it
and it's green when you poop.

It's soupy and stewy,
Chunky yet gooey.
It makes your mouth happy
and your tummy quite chappy.

Have it in the winter
When it's 5 below.
Have it in the summer
When you're feeling low.

Don't eat it if you're vegan
'Cause if you toss the ham
It's no longer soup when
You lost the glam.

Split pea soup
Split pea soup
It's good for your mouths
and it's good for your poops.

Sleep

It's a quarter to nine in the evening.

I look at my tired husband as he patiently speaks to our daughter, who has been throwing a fit for a half hour. Something small blew her fuse.

The truth is that she is probably exhausted, too, but that is no excuse for her behavior. She has already received several disciplinary measures for throwing things, but now things are calming down.

Dan is staring her down, looking lovingly in her furrow-browed face. He's obviously tired, but he's more concerned with Morgan's character than sleep. He's wearing his graduate school t-shirt tonight; I don't think any of his business school degree will help him here. Nope, it's just pure love + patience.

My idea of tucking her in bed this evening was completely opposite from his: I wanted to congratulate her, "You've won an evening for one in YOUR bedroom! DING! DING! DING!" I would give her to the count of 5 to bed down for herself or I would escort her there. "Escort" is an entirely wrong word for what I would have to do: there would be the picking up a 4 year old and telling her to stay in her room. There would be yelling on her part. It would be chaos.

But Dan, dear Dan, chose the longer route, the more patient one. He's already working his magic on her tired tantrum.

In the end, I am completely humbled by these two people who I love dearly:

I'm humbled that my daughter is so dearly strong willed; I'm humbled by every judgmental thought I ever had of other people who have had strong willed children.

But I'm also humbled by my husband's patient love.

As I finish this post, I hear Morgan quieting down. He's done it again.

Goodnight, dear Dan. You have certainly earned your sleep.

Care

The past few weeks I have been battling some kind of sinus issues, which I understand are pretty normal for winter. Dry heat, etc.

This normally isn't too tough to shake... a couple days of rest should do it, right? But in conjunction with other life issues, I've needed extra rest.

One day I napped twice. It was totally unintentional, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was afraid I'd wake up with a unibrow, like the one Morgan drew on me earlier this summer when I fell asleep.

It's the kind of wearyness that one feels when they're pregnant. (I'm not.)

In any case, I'm mostly frustrated b/c there are so many people I care for right now who I want to encourage or give a "thumbs up" to but. simply. can't. keep. my. eyes. open.

So here's the deal: I care. I do. You know who you are. I read your blogs. And I care.

More importantly: God cares. I relinquish you to His care.

Which I should've done in the first place. :)

Chocolate Love

Us Dykstras don't do much in the way of celebrating Valentine's Day. We get each other cards and eat a few extra chocolates or random candies that claim we should fax someone or call another.

I do, however, like to make a good dinner.

On le menu for the evening was some good home-cooked comfort food:
Beef Stronganoff with broccoli
and probably some other sides I hadn't thought about.

The cupid had other plans, however. Let's just say that the beef stronganoff had a date with le trash can. Apparently one can overdo the sherry and salt.

Cost*co came to the rescue with frozen marinated salmon and frozen broccoli.

But now my time was short for making the most important part of the dinner. Dessert, of course. Cue "ta-da" music. No problemo.



Dan and I received this wonderful cookbook from Marylou Ahrens for our wedding. It's called "Short and Sweet". Each recipe calls for approximately 5 ingredients. And with a few quick stirs, I made the dinner from diablo into a dinner to remember: Warm Mocha Truffle Cake. You serve it warm, almost directly from the oven. The insides are a gooey mess of chocolate love. It's bound to make even the most disciplined among us try a bite or two.

I, however, plead gluttony.

Day One: What I Love About Morgan

Day One: *sigh* She's Mine

Thumpety Thump

Things Which Make My Heart Go Thumpety-Thump:

1. Dan Dykstra, hubba hubba hubby-- by FAR

2. Driving over a railroad track just before the safety bars come down.

3. Cookbooks. I'm a glutton.

4. Comfort food. French Fries. Wine. French fries + wine.

5. Getting cozy with the fam on the couch and watching a movie.
6. Seeing some gorgeous fabric online. Purchasing a yard or two in the name of therapy.

7. Winning an ebay auction. Hello, Bose Sounddock.

8. Putting nice music on in the evening before Dan comes home, lighting a candle and making it seem as if the day went seamlessly. Smooching said husband.

9. Buying Morgan 1 or 2 nice dresses each season- the "don't paint in this at preschool" kind. Giggling over this cute number which reminds me of the dresses I used to wear as a little girl.


10. Reading a good book and then sharing a discussion with others about it.

11. Taking an afternoon break with a decaf coffee and one piece of really good chocolate. Lindt truffles. Dove chocolates.


12. Getting a phone call from a sibling or a friend. Especially a call with good news.

13. Talking to an older woman like my Grammy (who taught me to sew) or my mother.

14. Sewing curtains for my house. (Stay tuned... later posts will show the before and afters.)

15. Enjoying tulips on my kitchen table in the winter. Pretending its spring.



16. Snail mail. Get photos in the mail from family and friends.

17. Comments on my blog postings. Eeeek!

18. TJMaxx or HomeGoods store.

19. Getting an email from a friend who took the time out of their busy day to say something encouraging. Double thumpety thump.

20. Eating with friends.

Day Two: What I Love About Morgan

Day Two: Her Love of Words

Morgan loves words. She loves to learn the meaning of them. She loves to make up meanings. She loves to sound important and she loves to learn.

The other day she recited an entire dialogue from Charlotte's Web, the movie. Verbatim. She hasn't seen the movie that often to warrant that type of recitation.

But she has her father's love of words. And I'm glad for it.

Day Three: What I Love About Morgan

Day Three: Her Independence

I wish I could post a video on YouTube of Morgan as a little tike. She couldn't have even been a year. The video shows me trying to brush her hair. Then she barks at me, takes the brush and brushes her own hair. It's particularly funny b/c she makes a big mess in the back of her hair. But she thinks she looks pretty.

I should've known then that I was in for it. Not even a year old yet and very independent. I'm sure that will come in handy later in life.

I'm Game

Okay, Janice... here goes:

"I recently got “tagged” for a game unique to the blogging world. It’s called…………um……..well……I guess I don’t really know what the official name is. I think it’s referred to as “123,5,3 meme”, but I don’t know if that’s the actual name of the game. In any case, here’s how it’s played: You grab the closest book and turn to page 123. Then you skip the first 5 sentences on the page, and post the next 3. "

Here's my paragraph:
"A baby survives a plane crash and is adopted by wolves? He grows to manhood as a member of the pack, learning to communicate without words? It could happen, you tell yourself, because you're having such a good time learning what comes next."

From "The Reader's Choice: 200 Book Club Favorites" by Victoria Golden McMains

I tag Kris, Becky, Andrea, Sheryl and Dan.

Half. Marathon.

My sister has invited me to run the Chicago Half Marathon with her in September. Isn't she awesome?

I love spending time with sis. We're several (unmentionable) years apart, but the older we get, the closer we get. The more we relate.

Naturally I was excited about the invitation.

And then I read it again: Half marathon. Half. Marathon. Marathon?

You might as well say: Earn half a degree at Harvard. Perform half a heart surgery. Build half a car. I can do the first part, the "half" part, it's the caboose of that statement that gives me the trouble.

Half can be fun: "Halvies" is great with some chocolate decadent dessert.

But when you talk "half marathon"... I don't know.

You inspire me, Bex. Let me think about it.

Day Four: What Love About Morgan

Day Four: Her Creativity

It's a little difficult to write today's "What I Love About Morgan". She is currently enduring a time-out in her room. This time offers a few minutes to do my blog, but I'm obviously conflicted: I'm writing a blog about why I love my daughter while at the same time struggling to do so. :) Ah, motherhood.

However, Morgan is creative no matter what our relationship is at the moment. When we were moving, she found the packing peanuts and produced a "Christmas in May" theme in our living room. At first I was upset, but then I realized that I had 1) packed a bunch of her toys and 2) this was something NEW to play with... naturally she'd love them. For days, she scooped them in buckets and had, well, buckets of fun.

This morning she asked me if I'd like a watch. She then proceeded to apply an address label to my wrist (what is her infatuation with address labels?) and then put a round sticker on top of it.

She loves crafts, anything pink and purple, glitter glue and stickers. For Christmas, her favorite toys were probably the stickers and paper products she received. Ah, the gift that keeps on giving.

Day Five: What I Love About Morgan

Day Five: Her Voice

Morgan loves to sing. She sings random songs about her feelings all the time: when playing with playdoh, walking up the stairs, in the bathtub... the kid is a regular songbird. Her voice is high and squeaky compared to adults, of course. This makes it all the more funny when she uses words like "predicament" or "usually" in her vernacular.

And although there are many days when I wish there was an "off" or "volume" button on her person, I still love hearing her little voice, especially in the morning: "Good morning, Momma!"

Sunday Eve

I've never been able to put into words why I am keep allowing myself to potentially become pregnant or lose a pregnancy. A well meaning friend told me to stop trying. And if that were God's answer for me, I would accept it reluctantly, eventually.

This week a really interesting article on mourning arrived in The Banner magazine. The situation of the author is different, but the sentiment is the same.

Then I read this lovely paragraph that she wrote. I cut it out and put it in my hope journal. She says it so well:

"My courage to love despite loss comes from God's own courage to love us. God is astonished and wounded by our utter rejection.

He mourns.

And he keeps loving.

We learn to mimic God because we are in love, and we joyfully shout to him, 'Father, look at us, we're alive!'"

Blessed are those who mourn, who lose, who love; they will be comforted.

Day Six: What I Love About Morgan

Day Six: Drama Girl

Morgan has only two types of days: very good days or very bad days. She loves black and white. There is no gray in her world. She loves drama.

Her stories must have facial expressions which include raised eyebrows, darting eyes and expressive lip movements.

The other day she asked me to take her picture. This was the first pose she struck. Am I in trouble or what?

Home Art

When my husband and I first moved into our newer home, I had a hard time finding art that wasn't "too"... too traditional, too contemporary, too "not us". I'm artsy fartsy if you haven't guessed already.

I had a couple of prints that we had professionally framed that I no longer wanted, but didn't want to ditch the frames. I worked out a design on my computer first. I wanted to do something in a funky typeface. I didn't want to do a quote that I might outgrow, so I decided to write all the cities that Dan and I have lived either separately or jointly. Then I arranged them on the diptych and scribbled them in with an oil pastel. It was a lot of prep, but it was fun to do and relatively inexpensive. The only cost was a few black pastels and two sheets of mat board.

I'd love to hear your ideas for making your house a home, too.

Day Seven: What I Love About Morgan

Day Seven: Cutie Patootie

Okay, I'm biased, but I think she's cute. In fact, when she was born, I wept and wept because she had such a pretty face. And this was RIGHT after she was born.

I marveled at her little square jaw (mine was pointy when I was born). And, in a strange exaltation, I declared, "Dan, we have a square jaw! We have a square jaw!" Odd, I know. Not that I don't like how God made me, but I've always liked how square-jawed people looked. Cameron Diaz and Michelle Pfeiffer, for instance.

I love how her smile is somewhat crooked, like mine. (Side note: Why is it that something I don't find acceptable on my face I think is CUTE on hers? Ah, motherhood.)

Anyway, she's a beauty. God made her well.

A Psalm, by Emily

Thank you, God, for warm houses
because the snow stinks.

And thank you for electricity.
The snow stinks.

Thank you for a good roof.
The snow stinks.

And for good metal shovels to move the snow.
That stinks.

Day Eight: What I Love About Morgan

I'll use my last post as a springboard for today's "Top Ten List of Things I Love About Morgan."

Day Eight: Her Stories

Morgan has a story for everything. There has to be a reason for everything in life and she has taken it upon herself to be the answer guru. If there's a mark on the wall, by golly, she has the whole convoluted story behind it that would put a reporter to shame.

She's the one who doesn't suffer from "headaches like Daddy"... oh no... she has to suffer from something different: "edaches".

And this morning she tried to convince me that rabbits came in our house and stole the 500 address labels that have suddenly gone missing.

Every day there's something different. When I'm tired, it's hard to appreciate a story, esp. when I'm trying to dress her for bed. But when I've got my game on, she's hilarious. She's genius. She'd put Seinfeld to shame.

Love your stories, baby girl!

Address Labels

Five hundred address labels. Missing.

"Morgan, do you know where our address labels are?"

Morgan: "I think someone sneaked into our house and took them. I didn't put them in my room."

Next stop: Morgan's room.

And I thought I was being smart by buying extra labels in the first place. *sigh*

Day Nine: What I Love About Morgan

Number Nine: Compassion.

Morgan has a very sensitive and compassionate heart.

She doesn't like to see her parents sad. She has made me many beautiful pictures (rainbows, mostly) when I've been going through difficult times.

She loves to feed and clothe her baby dolls.

She would love a pet.

When she sees a younger child, she loves to take him/her by the hand and walk with them.

When she prays at night, she prays for people she loves.

I'm so grateful for her compassion.

SWC

Confession Time: I have a strong willed daughter.

It was bound to happen. Dan is freakishly intelligent. I am an overly-emotional artsy type. Poor thing had little left to work with in the genetic code. Her options were: Not being born or Strong Willed Child. (For all my balking, I'm glad she "chose" the latter.)

This strong will has put somewhat of a damper on our family life. And, as much as I can joke about it, the plain truth is that it is just plain difficult at times.

Cue solution: I am currently reading a very interesting book: You Can't Make Me, But I Can Be Persuaded by Cynthia Tobias.

The book lets the parent reader know that:
1. They are not alone. Many strong willed children exist.
2. Parents of the Strong Willed Child (SWC) will age more quickly than other parents; invest in wrinkle cream.
3. Parents of SWCs probably won't want to continue producing offspring
4. There is very little one can do to change the mind of a SWC.

For some reason, I spent the first years of my life judging helpless mothers as they carted screaming children through grocery stores. Then, I became a parent. More correctly, I became that parent. Now I give those parents reassuring glances in the store. Been there.

If you are wondering if you have a SWC, simply take this test:
Does traditional discipline work on your child? It won't on a SWC.
When you tell your child that they have earned a "time out", do they say, "bring it on"?
Do you have more confiscated toys in your bedroom than your child does in her bedroom?

If so, then join me, gentle reader in this journey of parenting. Pick up a book or two on the strong willed personality. I don't have the answers, but I'm willing to learn them.

According to this book, I may be raising a "born leader". (That's their way of putting a positive spin on it.) Maybe. But right now I don't care who she leads. I just care who she follows.

Valentine's Countdown: Morgan Kay

It's that ooey-gooey time of year again. For all my readers who *gag* when I gush about Dan, then you'll be glad to know that THIS time, I will gush about Morgan. She's been a handful lately and this list will be much more for my benefit than yours, but you'll still get to know her nonetheless.

So here goes: Top Ten Reasons I Love Morgan

Number Ten: The Negotiator

Emily: "Morgan, I will give you 4 M&Ms if you can do your potty time by yourself."

Dramatic pause.
What a reasonable child would say: "Great!"

What Morgan says: "Eight. I want 8 M&Ms."

Trying not to laugh.

Emily: "Five."

Morgan: "Okay. Five."

Morgan Stories

Morgan found a bruise on her arm. Naturally she had to make a story to go with it:

"Mom, someone beat me up the other day. Look. And then I got nipples all over me (she points to her neck) and then the doctor gave me a bruise instead."

Side note: Morgan confuses pimples with nipples. We're not sure why. And we don't talk about nipples with any frequency either, so we have no idea why she uses this word. I hope she uses it in church. That would be great. :)

_______________________________________

Morgan: "Mom, I know how they make DVDs. First they pat it. Then they squeeze it. Then they bake it in the oven. Then they let it cool and put a picture on it." (Hmmm... similar to the gingerbread man?)

Emily: "Wow, Morgan... where did you learn that?"

Morgan: "My uncles."

Morgan attributes almost all her knowledge to her preschool or her uncles.

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Morgan is getting a cold. She describes her symptoms this way:

"Mom, I have a 'edache'. It's not a 'headache' like Daddy gets. I get 'edaches' but Daddy gets 'headaches'. My uncles get 'wedaches'. It makes my head feel funny."

Babushka Babe

I know I should play along with my daughter, but I simply can't take her seriously in this getup. She looks like a dilapidated babushka. Plus, she keeps wearing our address labels on her chest, as if she were brought to us via mail.

Hubba Lova

Thanks, Hubs. For going grocery shopping. So I could rest. You're the best.

SMOOCH

Snow Day

If you're in Illinois, you know that school is closed today. I found this out online.

The also broadcast it on radio, TV and by Harry Potter's owl, Hedwig. It was pretty darn impossible to say, "By jove! I had no idea there was a chance that school would be cancelled today. No idea whatsoever."

Nevertheless,.. I'm one smart Sherlock. School is closed.

When I was a kid, I sat as close to the radio as possible on snow day mornings (remember the turn dial "radio"?), waiting to hear, "Montgomery County schools closed". Happy dances would ensue.
We'd eat fresh snow with syrup drizzled on top. (This was before the acid rain scare.)
We'd make scoliosis-bound snowmen.
And we'd have those awful knit mittens that had a long yarn (about a yard long) attached between them so that you wouldn't lose your mittens. (If you have no idea what this is, put on a jacket and then pull some barbed wire through both arms and behind your back.) I didn't feel too uncomfortable unless you really pulled forward and could feel the yarn tug.
But we didn't care. It was a snow day, confound it, and we were going to have some cold, wet fun.

Today, when I hear "snow day", I know that Morgan won't be going to preschool. I'm not groaning, but I'm not doing the happy dance either. I'm a *gulp* parent.

This also means: First, acid rain, schmacid rain. Eat the syrup snow, kiddo.
Next, snowmen are still cool. Snow on my hardwood floors is not.
Thirdly, they don't even MAKE those mittens with the ouchy attachment anymore. However, I would be in favor of anything that would 1) keep mittens on my daughter and 2) have her suffer similarly. Builds character.

In short, it's a snow day. I predict wet hardwoods, pink cheeks and hot cocoa.