Mama - the heavenly being that I am

We were cleaning the house today, wiping the counters in the bathroom and vacuuming up. As we scrubbed, we shared a quiet moment of inner reflection. Salem then turned to me and said: "Hey mom? You know that guy that loves little creatures?"
me: "I'm not sure who you're talking about, what guy?"
her: "God, mom. I'm talking about God. He loves the little creatures like you do."

(I'm not sure what she means here, I'm not a real big fan of creatures, the smaller the nastier. Now that I think about it, I loathe little creatures. Ick!)

her: "Yeah! you're like him. I'm gonna call you mama god."
me: "I'm not sure how I feel about being 'mama god'. Let's just call me mommy. Okay?"

She turned around and began singing a little song about 'mama god' and how I love little creatures, and how I love it when the house is clean. At least she got the clean part right.

Our Thanksgiving

We had a very nice thanksgiving in Pensacola, Florida with my dad, Barb, grammy and my aunt Phyllis and uncle Jim. We played Bocci and found that my grammy could be a regional bocci champion--she can sure can throw a ball. We fried a turkey (yummm) and I made two pies (sugar overload!)

The weather is fantastic, it's hovering around 70 degrees and sunny.

Salem is enjoying being the center of attention and continues to be very entertaining.

Two is a Low Number

As usual the kid struggled through her dinner the other night. We had everyone's favorite, pasta and meatballs. But to her, it was like I asked her to eat squab aspic with a side of pickled quail eggs.

She ate enough to earn herself some dessert. I pulled out two cookies, put them in a bowl and handed it to her. She looked down then straight back up at me, smacked the bowl on the counter, folded her arms and stated: "There are only TWO cookies here. TWO...and TWO is a LOW number!

me: "Well, 2 cookies are just fine, what's wrong with that? That's a normal amount, it could be worse you know, I could have given you only ONE cookie!"

She held her ground and continued to argue over the "low number" of cookies in her bowl. I held my ground. She stomped her feet. I put her in time out. She came out of time out still pouting and refusing to indulge herself on the inadequate dessert that I should be so cruel to offer.

She stomped her feet again. She went back into time out. She got out of time out and stared hatefully at the offering still sitting on the counter.

me: "You want to just go to bed without any dessert? That's okay with me but it's too bad really as these cookies will not get eaten."

her:"Alright. (deep breath, sigh) I'll eat these cookies" She said under her breath as if she were doing me some sort of favor by reducing the world's population of cookies by two.

Good Lookin' Shrimp

This morning seemed like any other school day. I got the kid up, put some vitamins in her juice and poured her a salem-sized* bowl of Golden Grahams. I turned on Sponge Bob and dragged her crabby-bum out of bed. She watched her program and ate as I got ready for work. I walked out of the bathroom prepared to get her ready for school.

She pulled her eyes away from the beloved Sponge Bob, looked up at me and with the biggest grin she said,

"Holy Shrimp! Mom, you look beautiful today!"
me: "Thanks kiddo, you just made my day."

*Salem-size: She coined this term to distinguish any food item that can fit neatly on a silver dollar. This weekend, we have plans to make Salem-sized Crabby Patties in lieu of her love of the Sponge Bob.

< I wanted to share this with you. This is an ad on my blog today. WTF?

New Tights

I got new tights for Salem... she picked out polka-dot ones that were for 2-3 year olds (the right size for her) and hot-pink ones that were for 4-5 year olds.

Needless to say, the 4-5 year old ones were too big. After wearing them all day, they had bunched up around her crotch.

The next day I suggested she wear them again... to which she replied "No way Dad, can't wear those, they give me the WEIRDS!"

-CHUK

Pipes Are Everywhere

The kid and I came home last night after grocery shopping. We were not more than a few steps away from the car when she stopped short.

"Mom! Did you know that there are pipes under this ground? Pipes. Lots of 'em, everywhere!"

me: "I did not know that there were pipes everywhere. Do you think there are some under us right now?"

her: "Yesssss! They are underground, under our feet and even under the hotels!"

me: "Wow, cool. What do you suppose is in the pipes?"

She paused for a second, her gears were turning but she quickly responded, "Bugs. The pipes are all full of bugs."

Drinks and a Bad Make-Over

Salem and her best friend were hanging out recently. I heard them giggling and messing around in the kitchen. Then the ruckus moved out into the hall and toward the bedrooms. I quickly grabbed my camera, and followed behind them down the hall. I announced: "Turn around girls and say cheese!" They whipped around and posed for the shot like a couple of pros. (Note: Salem had her faced painted earlier that day, most of it is wiped off. The remnants make her look like she had a make-over at the Beauty School for the Nearsighted.) Later, I was looking through the photos on the camera and noticed that she was double fistin' some drinks they served themselves from the kitchen. It's scary as this photo looks more from the makings of a college dorm room than a couple of 4 year olds at play. I'm going to throw in the image of the 'face paint job' she had earlier in the day at her school festival. This is a little shout to my friend, Venessa. We certainly missed your skills as a face painter on this day! Is this a canine or the bride of Frankenstein? I've also included a close-up of Salem's post make-up face. Good times Juliet Lewis (pictured left) and my kid; separated at birth?

Scarecrow

I asked Salem to start thinking about what she was going to wear one weekend morning. I told her to lay it out on the bed and we'll get dressed.

She ran into the kitchen a while later and said,
"Mommy! come see my scarecrow! I've laid out my clothes."

I went into her room and sure enough, she'd laid out her outfit, shoes included on her bed. It was so cute, she was real proud of herself.

Spells Bone

I've mentioned before that the kid has been into words & letters--a general English language appreciation has erupted around the house. She comes home from school daily with a piece of art that she worked on, normally it is folded up into a tiny rectangle and jammed into her pocket. She'll pull it out, unravel it and present it to me. These projects normally showcase her little people or a couple funny cats or a series of her 'ladders'. Somewhere on the paper, there is always some strange combination of letters, a 'Salem word' of sorts.

The other day, she pulled out her art for the day folded in typical origami-style. I opened it and asked her what it was.

her: "It's a bone! and some food."
me: "Cool! I love your letters, you're really writing well these days. What does it say?" I motioned to the 'Salem word' at the top of the sheet.
her: "It says BONE. Can't you read?"

Oh yes, I see. It clearly says "Bone". What's wrong with me?

Flying Fish

Last night the kid went out to dinner with her dad. I called to see how they were doing and this is the response I got:
"Hi mom! I have some fish in my drink!"
me: "You do? How did it get in there?"
her: "Well......it just flew in there!" and then she made a 'Shwiiiiiish' noise, to describe the sound of the fish flying off her plate and into her drink.

Knowing her, she put it in there on purpose. She likes to eat gross things.

"D" is for D-D-Discipline

Sunday was kinda a lazy day. It was cold outside and I just didn’t want to do much of anything. The girl suggested otherwise. She was bored some time around 4 pm and wanted to go out to the park or ‘somewhere other than here, mom’. We had gone already to the park that day for a school function and it was miserable and cold. She even asked to leave as she was freezing. How quickly they forget!

She’s been practicing her letters at school and sounding them out. “Esss, ess, essssssss is for Salem! She says this among various other sound-outs all day long. When I didn’t hop-to straight away upon her request to ‘go out and do something’ she got upset. Real upset. She told me that she didn’t know how to drive my car, otherwise she would have taken it to the park (the freezing un-fun park that she wanted to go home from not more than one hour before, mind you) or to Chuck E. Cheese’s. (I’ll go there only to hang myself, that place is out of the question, period.) Frustrated with my lack of enthusiasm for the dreaded Chuck E. Cheese, she approached me, looked me straight in the eyes and said,
"Luh, LLLLuh Luh is for I don’t Luuuh-LIKE you!”

Nice.

I responded:
“Tee, tee TEE is for Time Out!”

Let’s see if this letter game continues…

Boobie Trap

Last night the kid and I were playing--the typical stuff like rolling around on the floor, her climbing up my back then standing on my head knocking my teeth into the planter, ect. She started a new game Running Away From Mommy. As I was seated on the floor, she'd run around the living room, circle back and smash her little face into mine. After a while, I grew tired of this face-smashing activity and voiced my objections.

She circled the living room one last time with vigor and as she approached me, stretched her arms out in front of her in classic zombie-fashion, grasped the top of my tank top with her tiny paws and yanked downward as hard as she could.

"What are you doing?" I quickly asked.
her: "I'm giving you a Boobie Trap!"
me: "A Boobie Trap? What?"
her: "It's when I do this..." She yanked my top once again.
me: "Stop! Don't do that again. And further more, don't give anyone else a 'Boobie Trap', ever. Okay?"
her: She just looked at me with that naughty twinkle in her eye, spun around and trotted off.

Lip Licker

One of the things I detest about the colder months is that the kid constantly licks the skin around her mouth. She's wearing a sad dry and cracked little clown mouth and will continue to do so for the next couple of months. As any concerned parent, I constantly apply chap stick, Vaseline, salve and all the rest around her cake-hole to help it heal. To my chagrin, She just licks it off, perpetuating the problem.

Better than Benadryl

I've been concerned about the time change and Salem's sleep pattern. Normally, it really throws her through a loop.

Last night I read Salem one of my childhood bedtime stories: The Tale of Jemima Puddleduck. I dunno if she didn't care for the story, if it was boring or what, but her eyes glazed over and she stared off into space.

"Salem? You okay?"

her: "Yeah, I'm just tired. Please stop reading now. I would like to go to sleep, i'm really sleepy."

me: "Alright, we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow night. Love you, sleep tight!"

As I turned out the light I reflected, "Self, I thought, you may be on to something here. Your hyperactive, non-sleeping, stay-awake-in-bed-for-hours child is TIRED! All I need to do from now on is read The Tale of Jemima Puddleduck and she passes right out. Sweet!"

A Skeletal Halloween

Some photos of the Vinson Skeleton Trick-or-Treaters: