Little Philosopher

No one ever told me that after the "why" stage there was another, even more frustrating, stage around the corner.  It's the "What do you mean?" stage.  Christin feels that this is an appropriate question to ask in any situation.  "Christin it's time for dinner."  "What do you mean?"  "Christin you left your clothes on the floor"  "What do you mean?" "Christin did you finish your schoolwork?"  "What do you mean?".
I sometimes give an extremely long answer in hopes that I will frustrate her as much as that question frustrates me.  For example:
Me:  "Christin, it's time to brush your teeth."
Christin:  "What do you mean?"
Me:  "It is seven-thirty in the pm.  It is customary to brush you teeth at this time of day.  The reason we brush our teeth at this time is because we are about to go to bed.  If you do not remove the gunk from your teeth before going to bed it will turn into plaque.  Plaque cannot be removed by your tooth brush and must be taken care of by the dentist.  So put a pea size amount of toothpaste on your red toothbrush and brush every single part of every single tooth and your tongue and cheeks."
Usually during the lengthy explanation she interrupts several times with "Maaahhhmom" (is that the appropriate spelling for the long drawn out version of mom?  I had moooom but that made me think of a cow which made me feel badly about myself, but I digress)
 Anyway, I just keep talking and hope that one day she will grow out of the "What do you mean?" stage.

We Should

Lindsey has developed a new love for the word should.  Every time I tell her she "shouldn't" do something she replies, "I should!" in her little chipper voice that frankly is hard to argue with.  Sometimes she even switches it up and says "you should!"  Let me give you an example:

Just last week I was hiding in taking a shower.  Lindsey has decided that when I shower she should come in the bathroom and sit on the toilet and talk to me.  It's especially great when I get out and she gives me a running commentary on my body, but you so don't want to hear about that.  Anyway, the other day I opened the curtain to find the entire roll of toilet paper unrolled onto the floor.  I sighed and said, "Lindsey, you really shouldn't unroll the toilet paper."  She looked my right in the eyes and said, "You should!  It's fun."  I have to admit, she can be very convincing, it does look fun.  I may have to try it.  The trick is finding a time I can do it and frame it on the kids in perfect timing so that someone else has to roll it back up because that is not fun. 

I think she has a career in advertising. 

It's Good to Plan Ahead

We are planners. Both George and I are always making plans. We don't fly by the seat of our pants very well. Admittedly George manages to act out his plans much more often than I do. I tend to plan and not accomplish. Christin has definitely inherited the planning gene. I often say, "Christin, it's time to do schoolwork" to which she responds, "I had planned on playing first." Only time will tell if she will turn her plans to actions or will just always be planning.
So it's not surprising that she made a new plan for her life. One that includes college and moving out (she's come so far, sniff, sniff:) So here it is:
1. Go to Villanova. She made this decision based based on the strictest criteria. They were close to home and had a cat has a mascot. Frankly, I've heard worse reasons to pick a school.
2. Move to Disney World and become a vet at Animal Kingdom.
3. Ride rides on her days off.

Frankly, I'm hoping it works out.

When Homeschooling Goes Hillariously Wrong

There was something on the couch yesterday.  It was blue and all over the cushins.  Because of the color I was fairly confident it was not poop (which is always a scary possibility) so I bent down to give it a wiff (I know, I am so brave).  It had a distinctly minty smell which told me that some one dared to leave the bathroom while brushing their teeth.  I decided to ask anyway, "Does anyone know what's on the couch?"  Shockingly no one knew.   Then Christin had an flash of brilliance, or so she seemed to think, "I'm pretty sure it's a plague from God."  Oh yes, how could I have forgotten that possibility?  Now I remember:  water to blood, frogs everywhere, flies everywhere, children's bright blue toothpaste on the couch, locusts, darkness, death.  It all makes perfect sense.
Later on I was playing Pharoh and the children were the Israelites (yup we are super weird and dorky).  Anyway, I was ordering them in my most Pharohy voice to clean my fields (aka the playroom) so I could see all my beautiful land.  Christin jumped right on board and started cleaning.  Lindsey however, made her best brat face, looked up at me and said (in that snotty tone usually reserved for eleven year old girls) "No way, Hosanna!"  Somehow it didn't have the same umph that Jose seems to have.  Who knew?
Homeschooling allows my children more creativity when sinning.  That's why we do it.

A Family Dictionary

It bothers me when people adopt their childrens words for things and create their own language.  However, lately I find myself doing the same thing.  I think it's Lindsey's fault.  I'm not sure if you noticed but she's pretty stinkin cute and when she makes up her own words it's hard to resist saying them.  Here's an example of some of the words we've been using:
"oushy squoshy" = silly putty
"mooolk"   = milk (I think this one is pretty smart)
"nilky"  = thats an old one from Christin originally meaning milk but now refering to all liquid
and my favorite:
"smarshmellow" = marshmellow

Soon I'll be talking in a widdle, biddle baby voice and repeating everything twice twice.  Don't you love how motherhood changes people?