Don't tell the kids

If what I am about to tell you gets out to the wrong people, I will be ruined. Namely...my kids.

My kids have less than two weeks of summer left. Less than two weeks of building forts, chasing chickens, eating raspberries from the garden, sleeping out in the tent, staying up late, etc. And that makes me a little sad for them!

I have been trying to force them outside. What would they wish they had done with their summer when they are stuck inside the school, sitting at their desks? They are slow to catch the vision, but at least they go out for a bit.

So, when Rebekah comes to me at 2:30 and wants to know if they can play on the slip 'n' slide, I say..."Sure." Never mind that it's barely 81 degrees and quite breezy outside. If she wants to play, then I won't stop her. Do you want a Popsicle, too? The way I feel when I think of their childhood summertime slipping away, I would almost say yes to anything (within reason, of course). Just don't let them know that!

Sorry cookies

If you're expecting this to be a post glorifying another kitchen disaster, you're wrong. But your assumption would not be unfounded. I do have plenty of those stories that have made it into my blog.

This post is a story of Leah and her little friend who is over today. They've been playing together since they got home from school about 3 hours ago. Lunch went fine and they played for a long time before any feelings got hurt. Then it happened.

Leah: I'm six and you're five. (I imagine this was said with at least a hint of superiority.)
Friend: Well, my birthday is blah, blah, blah. (She didn't say blah, blah, blah; I just can't remember what her b-day is now.)

Then Leah comes upstairs and announces her friend is being rude and replays the conversation for me. Leah wouldn't admit that her original statement might have started the problem and insisted on being offended at the tone in which her friend replied.

Five to ten minutes later, I hear Leah yelling and a door slams. Hmm...maybe I should step in and be a parent here before we send this little girl home with emotional and/or physical scars. At this point, I'm thankful for Rebekah who continues to play happily and gives me an opportunity to talk with my deeply troubled six-year-old.

I tried to explain to Leah that her friend might not have felt very good when Leah made a point of telling her she was younger. Maybe her response was a way to try to stand up for herself. I have to pause mid-sentence several times to make sure Leah can actually hear me over her crying. I'm trying not to think of the cold tears that are dripping all over my arm. (How caring of a parent does that make me?)

Eventually we come up with a plan to make up over cookies. Leah took 3 packages of cookies upstairs with a plan to say, "I'm sorry. I still want to be your friend." I listened at the bottom of the stairs, but only heard that she was talking - not what she was actually saying. It must have worked out OK, because I recently heard laughing (the fun kind).

Oy...boys are a lot less emotional! This girl thing is going to be interesting.

I knew it!!!

Nathan just came down from his room with a polo shirt on. "Mommy, do you know why my collar is up like this? It's because I'm an alien. Daniel neutralized me."

"What does neutralized mean?" I ask. I'm really curious to know his answer. I didn't even know he could say the word.

He fumbled around for a second and then said, "It means someone did something to change you and you can't go back."

I guess I can accept that definition. It's in the ball park.

Then he told the girls that he's always been an alien and now he really is because he's been neutralized. I knew there was something foreign about him! And I'm assuming that Daniel is the leader alien. There's something REALLY foreign about him! (I, of course, am using myself as a standard for normal. There may be some problem in my conclusion.)

She'll grow up someday

This morning Nathan, Leah and Rebekah were playing with the Little People and a dollhouse together. It was SO NICE that they were playing together and no one was fighting! Of course, Rebekah wandered in and out of the activity. There were other things that she found to do in between her playtime with her siblings.

Eventually, Nathan got tired of playing and walked away. This prompted Leah to inquire after him. I reminded her that she could still play with Rebekah. This was her response: "But her's not a brother, and her can't talk, and her isn't big enough and her can't play!"

Well, at least she thought it through!