Miss Boo has a new favorite show. The Fairly Odd Parents.
Boo: Can I watch that one show?
Me: Which show, Boo?
Boo: The Faerie Odd Parents?
Me: The Fairly Odd Parents?
Boo: Yeah. The Barely Off Pants.
Me: Want to try for one more, Boo?
Boo: The Barely Off Parents!
There will be a new episode of Word To Your Mutha The Show on Monday. Part 2 of the Magnet School series.
There might be a new vlog entry tomorrow or this weekend. Not sure of that yet.
Until we meet again in this kooky online world, take care, my internet lovelies. All 38 of you. Wish I was kidding. Sadly I'm not.
Showing posts with label Miss Boo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss Boo. Show all posts
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Ni Hao Miss Boo
I just watched the debut episode of Ni Hao Kai Lan. For those not tuned into the kid's TV world, it's an animated kid's show much anticipated by the China adoption community.
Kai Lan?
No! Kai Lan!
The first thing I noticed were her eyeballs. Those oblong oval eyeballs. It's a popular style in the Japanimae world, but just doesn't say Chinese to me. I had a hard time getting past that HUGE space between Kai Lan's eyes. Especially on our big screen TV. That space could be for rent. Sell some ads. Corporate sponsorships.
The second thing I noticed was the voice over. Of course I noticed the voice over! Kai Lan has a Midwestern accent! And sure enough, the little girl who plays her is from Wisconsin. I have a link to an article about her that I'm sure my China moms out there would find interesting, complete with a picture of the little voice over talent, who was adopted from China. Love that! Read her fascinating story.
It's very much like Dora, except with Mandarin instead of Spanish. I was hoping for a departure from the Dora formula, and hope the show grows into its own in time.
Best of all, no yelling! I know Dora is outside for most of the episodes but just wish she'd use her inside voice.
Today I went to Boo's school to teach the kids about Chinese New Year. Yeah, like I'm the expert? Adopt a kid from China and suddenly I'm Miz Culture. You know what? It's the Midwest and they're four. Barney could be in front of them talking about Chinese New Year for all they care about experts.
Boo and I wore our Chinese dresses, which is a very American thing to do. Especially Boo's dress. It's frilly and poofy like a tutu on the bottom and traditional Chinese in pattern on the top. And it's PINK! That style dress can be seen at the shops that cater to the China adoption crowd in Guangzhou. Get further into the city and you can't find them anywhere. So yeah, totally for the Americans and way too cute to pass up. I should have bought them in every color!
When Boo arrived at school and took off her coat, the girls oohed and ahhed and said, "You're a princess!" She got permission to wear the dress all day instead of her uniform, which I thought was really nice of her teachers. I arrived in the afternoon with a bowl full of oranges for snack. I found out the kids made dragon masks in art earlier in the day. Together we made kites. Then the teacher got the idea we should have a parade. The principal agreed, so we lined up the kids and told them to wave their masks and kites and to be loud like dragons and rooooooar!
The kids lined up perfectly and quietly entered the first kindergarten class with their eyes to the floor, silent as little mice. I stopped them and said, "Come on! Let's ROAR like dragons and stomp our feet!" The kids gave me a doubtful look. I assured them it was ok, we could go crazy! THat's when they let loose. We stomped our feet through the hallways and yelled and roared and Ni Hao'ed our way through the entire school.
I hope I get to be Chinese New Year room mother every year!
Kai Lan?
No! Kai Lan!
The first thing I noticed were her eyeballs. Those oblong oval eyeballs. It's a popular style in the Japanimae world, but just doesn't say Chinese to me. I had a hard time getting past that HUGE space between Kai Lan's eyes. Especially on our big screen TV. That space could be for rent. Sell some ads. Corporate sponsorships.
The second thing I noticed was the voice over. Of course I noticed the voice over! Kai Lan has a Midwestern accent! And sure enough, the little girl who plays her is from Wisconsin. I have a link to an article about her that I'm sure my China moms out there would find interesting, complete with a picture of the little voice over talent, who was adopted from China. Love that! Read her fascinating story.
It's very much like Dora, except with Mandarin instead of Spanish. I was hoping for a departure from the Dora formula, and hope the show grows into its own in time.
Best of all, no yelling! I know Dora is outside for most of the episodes but just wish she'd use her inside voice.
Today I went to Boo's school to teach the kids about Chinese New Year. Yeah, like I'm the expert? Adopt a kid from China and suddenly I'm Miz Culture. You know what? It's the Midwest and they're four. Barney could be in front of them talking about Chinese New Year for all they care about experts.
Boo and I wore our Chinese dresses, which is a very American thing to do. Especially Boo's dress. It's frilly and poofy like a tutu on the bottom and traditional Chinese in pattern on the top. And it's PINK! That style dress can be seen at the shops that cater to the China adoption crowd in Guangzhou. Get further into the city and you can't find them anywhere. So yeah, totally for the Americans and way too cute to pass up. I should have bought them in every color!
When Boo arrived at school and took off her coat, the girls oohed and ahhed and said, "You're a princess!" She got permission to wear the dress all day instead of her uniform, which I thought was really nice of her teachers. I arrived in the afternoon with a bowl full of oranges for snack. I found out the kids made dragon masks in art earlier in the day. Together we made kites. Then the teacher got the idea we should have a parade. The principal agreed, so we lined up the kids and told them to wave their masks and kites and to be loud like dragons and rooooooar!
The kids lined up perfectly and quietly entered the first kindergarten class with their eyes to the floor, silent as little mice. I stopped them and said, "Come on! Let's ROAR like dragons and stomp our feet!" The kids gave me a doubtful look. I assured them it was ok, we could go crazy! THat's when they let loose. We stomped our feet through the hallways and yelled and roared and Ni Hao'ed our way through the entire school.
I hope I get to be Chinese New Year room mother every year!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Uniformity
I could blog entirely about Miss Boo and never run out of material.
Boo goes to a uniform dress code school. I purchased the pants option, thinking that pants would be good for gym class. Pants are good to wear during our cold Midwestern winters. I thought I was being a Good Mommy in bypassing the standard pinafore uniform dress option for the sensible pants.
And up until now, pants were a fine option. Boo barely realized she was even wearing a uniform. Heck, she barely realized she had on clothes until she came home, tore off the pants, and put on one of her princess dresses.
That was, until yesterday.
Yesterday, a little girlie light bulb went off above Boo's head. Since it's Boo, I picture it like Hollywood makeup mirror lighting. I pictured her looking around the class. Seeing the other girls in their pinafores. Looking down at her pants. Looking back at the other girls, now bathed in sunshine with angels singing. I want to be like them. I want to look like them. But I don't. I'm wearing pants.
Miss Boo realized she was not pleased and Her Mother was to blame.
Miss Boo came home from school and flung herself on to her Cinderella carriage princess bed and wailed, "I AM THE ONLY GIRL IN MY CLASS WHO WEARS PANTS! I AM THE ONLY GIRL WHO DOESN'T WEAR A DRESS! GRACE WEARS A DRESS! SARAH WEARS A DRESS! MADDIE WEARS A DRESS! I WEAR PAAAAAAAAANTS!!!!!!"
She was actually sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe as she ripped off her "ugly ugly" pants and threw them across the room. She then raced to her closet, flipping through the clothes and yelling, "Where's my dress, Mommy? Where's my dress like the girls have at schooooooooool?"
I was finally able to get Boo calmed down with the promise that I would go out the next day and find her a pinafore uniform. Just like the other girls wear.
Yeah. I don't know where those moms found the approved uniform in a size 4t anywhere in this city. But try finding one now, in February?
I started with JC Penny, a store that had school uniforms. Had. ARG.
There was no way I was going to let my little Boo down. I headed to Target. I can make it work at Target. I can make anything work at Target.
I went to the little girl section to look for Boo's size. 4t. Nothing. Nothing at all that I could make work in a size 4t. But across the aisle in the bigger girl section, I found skirts in the approved uniform color. And they had a size 4. And me, I'm thinking, hey! Size four. How different can that be from a size 4t? I'll take three! And tights, she needs tights. Nothing in a size 4t, but they have Size 4-6x. Ok, how different can that be from a size 4t?
But a skirt is not a pinafore. So I also went to the Catholic supply store and thank goodness didn't tell the man behind the counter that he had a little smudge on his forehead. I found a pinafore in a size 4. Not a 4t. But how much difference can that little t be?
I got home and proudly showed my mother, who watched the babies for the morning, all my goodies. As I held them up, my mother said, "Oh no. No. Those are way too big. What size are they?"
"Four."
"Not 4t?"
"No.... but a 4 is close to a 4t, right?"
"Oh no. It goes 4t, then 5t, THEN you move up to the size 4. Four, Five, then 6x."
No wonder women are so hung up on size. Look how early it starts. Look how early the confusion of finding the right size starts!
Why do they do that? Why not 4t, 5t, then you jump to size 6. Heck, why not get rid of the t entirely? She's not even a toddler anymore. Isn't that what the t stands for?
Sure enough, Boo came home and tried on her new uniforms and they immediately fell off her hips to the floor. The pinafores? Hung to the ground before falling off her shoulders entirely.
My mother quickly began measuring, marking, and pinning. "I can alter these. Give me a few days and I'll make it work."
My mother, the great Marge In Charge, to the rescue.
When's that gonna be me? When am I going to be the mother who swoops in, tucks her baby birds under her wings and makes it all better? When am I going to get a hang of this motherhood thing and save the day?
Eventually. Hopefully. And if not, I hope my girls inherit my sense of humor.
Boo goes to a uniform dress code school. I purchased the pants option, thinking that pants would be good for gym class. Pants are good to wear during our cold Midwestern winters. I thought I was being a Good Mommy in bypassing the standard pinafore uniform dress option for the sensible pants.
And up until now, pants were a fine option. Boo barely realized she was even wearing a uniform. Heck, she barely realized she had on clothes until she came home, tore off the pants, and put on one of her princess dresses.
That was, until yesterday.
Yesterday, a little girlie light bulb went off above Boo's head. Since it's Boo, I picture it like Hollywood makeup mirror lighting. I pictured her looking around the class. Seeing the other girls in their pinafores. Looking down at her pants. Looking back at the other girls, now bathed in sunshine with angels singing. I want to be like them. I want to look like them. But I don't. I'm wearing pants.
Miss Boo realized she was not pleased and Her Mother was to blame.
Miss Boo came home from school and flung herself on to her Cinderella carriage princess bed and wailed, "I AM THE ONLY GIRL IN MY CLASS WHO WEARS PANTS! I AM THE ONLY GIRL WHO DOESN'T WEAR A DRESS! GRACE WEARS A DRESS! SARAH WEARS A DRESS! MADDIE WEARS A DRESS! I WEAR PAAAAAAAAANTS!!!!!!"
She was actually sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe as she ripped off her "ugly ugly" pants and threw them across the room. She then raced to her closet, flipping through the clothes and yelling, "Where's my dress, Mommy? Where's my dress like the girls have at schooooooooool?"
I was finally able to get Boo calmed down with the promise that I would go out the next day and find her a pinafore uniform. Just like the other girls wear.
Yeah. I don't know where those moms found the approved uniform in a size 4t anywhere in this city. But try finding one now, in February?
I started with JC Penny, a store that had school uniforms. Had. ARG.
There was no way I was going to let my little Boo down. I headed to Target. I can make it work at Target. I can make anything work at Target.
I went to the little girl section to look for Boo's size. 4t. Nothing. Nothing at all that I could make work in a size 4t. But across the aisle in the bigger girl section, I found skirts in the approved uniform color. And they had a size 4. And me, I'm thinking, hey! Size four. How different can that be from a size 4t? I'll take three! And tights, she needs tights. Nothing in a size 4t, but they have Size 4-6x. Ok, how different can that be from a size 4t?
But a skirt is not a pinafore. So I also went to the Catholic supply store and thank goodness didn't tell the man behind the counter that he had a little smudge on his forehead. I found a pinafore in a size 4. Not a 4t. But how much difference can that little t be?
I got home and proudly showed my mother, who watched the babies for the morning, all my goodies. As I held them up, my mother said, "Oh no. No. Those are way too big. What size are they?"
"Four."
"Not 4t?"
"No.... but a 4 is close to a 4t, right?"
"Oh no. It goes 4t, then 5t, THEN you move up to the size 4. Four, Five, then 6x."
No wonder women are so hung up on size. Look how early it starts. Look how early the confusion of finding the right size starts!
Why do they do that? Why not 4t, 5t, then you jump to size 6. Heck, why not get rid of the t entirely? She's not even a toddler anymore. Isn't that what the t stands for?
Sure enough, Boo came home and tried on her new uniforms and they immediately fell off her hips to the floor. The pinafores? Hung to the ground before falling off her shoulders entirely.
My mother quickly began measuring, marking, and pinning. "I can alter these. Give me a few days and I'll make it work."
My mother, the great Marge In Charge, to the rescue.
When's that gonna be me? When am I going to be the mother who swoops in, tucks her baby birds under her wings and makes it all better? When am I going to get a hang of this motherhood thing and save the day?
Eventually. Hopefully. And if not, I hope my girls inherit my sense of humor.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
boo has homework
More homework for Boo. More hilarity for our family.
Tonight's assignment? A page filled with lower case t's and upper case T's. Trace the T's. Then color the lower case t's green and the upper case T's orange. It would eventually reveal a circus t-t-Tent.
Here's how it went.
Me: Boo... what did you do to that T?
Boo: I gave him an extra leg.
Me: I see that. Why?
Boo: See! So I could give him roller skates!
Me: That's very creative, but the teacher wants you to trace the T, not give him accessories.
Boo: I want to make fancy T's.
Me: Yes, but in this assignment, they want you to just trace the T.
Boo: I know how to make Ts. I want to make them fancy.
Me: Ok... I understand that... but what are you doing to that T?
Boo: He's waving! Hello! Hello!
(Matt walks into the room)
Matt: Want me to take over?
Me: Please.
Matt: She's just using creative license.
Me: Have I ever told you my creative license story?
(Matt shakes his head no.)
Me: When I was young, I asked my mom to explain e.e. cummings and his lack of capitalization. She said he was taking creative license. I was really bummed out because I thought it was like a driver's license and you had to be a certain age to get one. By the time I could get a creative license, I'd be out of school and no longer need one. With a creative license, I wouldn't have to follow the rules in English class. I could just write without thinking.
Matt: You have to know the rules before you can break them.
Me: That's why you're going to be Homework Guy. I like the roller skating T much better.
Tonight's assignment? A page filled with lower case t's and upper case T's. Trace the T's. Then color the lower case t's green and the upper case T's orange. It would eventually reveal a circus t-t-Tent.
Here's how it went.
Me: Boo... what did you do to that T?
Boo: I gave him an extra leg.
Me: I see that. Why?
Boo: See! So I could give him roller skates!
Me: That's very creative, but the teacher wants you to trace the T, not give him accessories.
Boo: I want to make fancy T's.
Me: Yes, but in this assignment, they want you to just trace the T.
Boo: I know how to make Ts. I want to make them fancy.
Me: Ok... I understand that... but what are you doing to that T?
Boo: He's waving! Hello! Hello!
(Matt walks into the room)
Matt: Want me to take over?
Me: Please.
Matt: She's just using creative license.
Me: Have I ever told you my creative license story?
(Matt shakes his head no.)
Me: When I was young, I asked my mom to explain e.e. cummings and his lack of capitalization. She said he was taking creative license. I was really bummed out because I thought it was like a driver's license and you had to be a certain age to get one. By the time I could get a creative license, I'd be out of school and no longer need one. With a creative license, I wouldn't have to follow the rules in English class. I could just write without thinking.
Matt: You have to know the rules before you can break them.
Me: That's why you're going to be Homework Guy. I like the roller skating T much better.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Boo's first sleepover
You remember Britney from the charity birthday party show? WHAT? You haven't watched a single episode of my show? Don't you know I'm the next big mommy superstah? Inside my head? Where offers to work on TV come pouring in on a daily basis! Ahhh it's so nice inside my head.
Britney's daughter Hannah is Boo's best friend. Well today I was interviewing Britney (AGAIN, ARRRGG says Britney) for an upcoming show. Yes, I am repeating show guests. Because! I have no other options here, people. I'm a middle aged Midwestern housewife who has a video show on the internet. Of course my friends have to keep re-appearing on my shows. Who else is going to be on them?
We were in the middle of the interview when her toddler Eli began to struggle to breathe. Britney called the DR and was told to head to the ER. And I raced after her saying, "But my show! You didn't finish your interview! What about my show!!!"
Yeah, that happened in my head, too. It's a bit wacky in there.
They brought Hannah to our place. Hannah was totally freaked out, and not sure of spending the night away from her family. Matt and I tried to make it fun for her, and soon the girls were doing their Mulan kicks while wearing princess dresses and causing their usual mayhem. Oh but first Matt and I had to do Mulan kicks to get the party started. Matt and I did Mulan kicks. That alone should be an upcoming episode.
Boo and Hannah were about to watch a movie when Hannah turned to her and said, "Did you see Oprah last week? She had on a tapeworm and a ringworm! It came out of someone's butt! It was in their poop! Isn't that cool?"
Boo waved her hand dismissively in the air and replied, "I don't watch Oprah."
Then later at bedtime Hannah handed "Mr. Matt" her book and said, "My book first, cuz I'm the guest!"
Boo rolled her eyes, sighed, and said, "Yes, Hannah, we know, we KNOW!"
Hannah's reply? "Oh my goodness, for heaven's sake!"
Update- Hannah's brother has a nasty virus. Britney being Britney - even when the DR said it wasn't RSV, she still asked Eli to be tested because of his exposure to Avalon and the preemie risk of RSV complications up until age 2. The doctor agreed, Eli was negative, and I am thankful for a friend who was so thoughtful. After all she has done to help us in our numerous emergencies, it was so nice to return the favor and help her this time!
But let me tell you something. After having two four year olds and two one year olds in the house- I am tired. Wow, I am tired!
Britney's daughter Hannah is Boo's best friend. Well today I was interviewing Britney (AGAIN, ARRRGG says Britney) for an upcoming show. Yes, I am repeating show guests. Because! I have no other options here, people. I'm a middle aged Midwestern housewife who has a video show on the internet. Of course my friends have to keep re-appearing on my shows. Who else is going to be on them?
We were in the middle of the interview when her toddler Eli began to struggle to breathe. Britney called the DR and was told to head to the ER. And I raced after her saying, "But my show! You didn't finish your interview! What about my show!!!"
Yeah, that happened in my head, too. It's a bit wacky in there.
They brought Hannah to our place. Hannah was totally freaked out, and not sure of spending the night away from her family. Matt and I tried to make it fun for her, and soon the girls were doing their Mulan kicks while wearing princess dresses and causing their usual mayhem. Oh but first Matt and I had to do Mulan kicks to get the party started. Matt and I did Mulan kicks. That alone should be an upcoming episode.
Boo and Hannah were about to watch a movie when Hannah turned to her and said, "Did you see Oprah last week? She had on a tapeworm and a ringworm! It came out of someone's butt! It was in their poop! Isn't that cool?"
Boo waved her hand dismissively in the air and replied, "I don't watch Oprah."
Then later at bedtime Hannah handed "Mr. Matt" her book and said, "My book first, cuz I'm the guest!"
Boo rolled her eyes, sighed, and said, "Yes, Hannah, we know, we KNOW!"
Hannah's reply? "Oh my goodness, for heaven's sake!"
Update- Hannah's brother has a nasty virus. Britney being Britney - even when the DR said it wasn't RSV, she still asked Eli to be tested because of his exposure to Avalon and the preemie risk of RSV complications up until age 2. The doctor agreed, Eli was negative, and I am thankful for a friend who was so thoughtful. After all she has done to help us in our numerous emergencies, it was so nice to return the favor and help her this time!
But let me tell you something. After having two four year olds and two one year olds in the house- I am tired. Wow, I am tired!
Friday, January 4, 2008
CD Song
When I was a child, my parents had this wood wall hanging in the bathroom with a painted little girl sitting on a potty seat. It read, "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie." Say hello to the 70s!
I often sing those droplets of wisdom to Miss Boo after she has used the toilet. Tonight she sang it back to me. "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the DVD."
Took me a minute, too.
I often sing those droplets of wisdom to Miss Boo after she has used the toilet. Tonight she sang it back to me. "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the DVD."
Took me a minute, too.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Say my name, say my name
Miss Shake Your Wedgie, Shake Your Wedgie, Yeah Yeah and I were playing Barbies in her room today. Miss Thang has about eight of them now and only a few dresses that are leftover from the Barbie days of my youth. Poor ladies, decked out head to toe in orange polyester. It's quite something to see sweet Belle and Ariel shoved into a 70's Bob Mackie one shoulder tube dress. I'm afraid to purchase Barbie clothing for fear I just won't stop. Just like I did with purchasing those damn Barbies. A four year old doesn't need A Barbie let alone eight. I have a weakness for All Things Girlie. Good thing I have three girls.
Boo was covering Mulan Warrior in rubber bands. Mulan Warrior as opposed to Mulan Princess, there is a big difference, "Get it right, please." She was completely into her task and when she asked for another rubber band, she called me Hannah.
"Can you hand me another rubber band, Hannah?"
"Hannah!" I laughed. I'm not Hannah!"
She sighed. "Hannah. Mommy. Whatever you name is. Geez louise!"
Boo was covering Mulan Warrior in rubber bands. Mulan Warrior as opposed to Mulan Princess, there is a big difference, "Get it right, please." She was completely into her task and when she asked for another rubber band, she called me Hannah.
"Can you hand me another rubber band, Hannah?"
"Hannah!" I laughed. I'm not Hannah!"
She sighed. "Hannah. Mommy. Whatever you name is. Geez louise!"
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Poop.
The babies tend to poop at the same time, which is awfully convenient.
Here are Miss Boo's observations on the poop:
Boo: Chinese baby poop is so much better than American baby poop.
Me: Why is that, Boo?
Boo: Chinese baby poop isn't sticky and it's easy to clean up. American baby poop is sticky. It sticks to your skin and burns and causes rashes. Everyone should poop like Chinese babies. But we're English, so our poop isn't as good.
Here are Miss Boo's observations on the poop:
Boo: Chinese baby poop is so much better than American baby poop.
Me: Why is that, Boo?
Boo: Chinese baby poop isn't sticky and it's easy to clean up. American baby poop is sticky. It sticks to your skin and burns and causes rashes. Everyone should poop like Chinese babies. But we're English, so our poop isn't as good.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Liver Tea
This weekend we took All My Children to Starbucks. Mommy Brain made me space out on the two kid-friendly coffee houses in our "zone."
I forget what I was saying to Matt when we approached Starbucks, but it ended with, "...is such a pain in the butt."
Three year old Boo said from the back of the car, "Butt! You said butt! HAHAHAHAHA!"
Then Boo sighed happily and said with much enthusiasm, "Butt is such a great word!"
We walked into Starbucks with Boo saying, "I love the word butt."
While the fire in the fireplace was so delightful, the other patrons were not there to listen to three kids squealing, and barking, yes barking, and shouting, "Butt is a great word!" We quickly made our exit.
Boo is finally going to perform that soup song at school during the Thanksgiving play. Not a moment too soon. What an ear worm, that song. I often find myself going about my day while singing, "You've heard of chicken soup and turkey soup and chowder made with claaaaams.... "
The older kids are singing a song about America. Boo began singing the song at dinner.
Boo: (singing) America! America! With liver-tea from sea to sea!
Me: Liver tea? I'd love a cup!
Matt: Sounds tasty.
Me: What is liberty, Boo?
Boo: Liver-tea is a big castle in America.
Matt: Technically, America was founded after the time of castles.
Boo: Liver- tea is a mountain with a castle covered in ice cubes.
Matt: Sounds like Superman's fortress.
Boo: Who's Soup Man?
Me: Soup Man drinks liver- tea
Matt: No soup for you!
Know what goes great with liver-tea?
My show.
A new episode has been posted.
I forget what I was saying to Matt when we approached Starbucks, but it ended with, "...is such a pain in the butt."
Three year old Boo said from the back of the car, "Butt! You said butt! HAHAHAHAHA!"
Then Boo sighed happily and said with much enthusiasm, "Butt is such a great word!"
We walked into Starbucks with Boo saying, "I love the word butt."
While the fire in the fireplace was so delightful, the other patrons were not there to listen to three kids squealing, and barking, yes barking, and shouting, "Butt is a great word!" We quickly made our exit.
Boo is finally going to perform that soup song at school during the Thanksgiving play. Not a moment too soon. What an ear worm, that song. I often find myself going about my day while singing, "You've heard of chicken soup and turkey soup and chowder made with claaaaams.... "
The older kids are singing a song about America. Boo began singing the song at dinner.
Boo: (singing) America! America! With liver-tea from sea to sea!
Me: Liver tea? I'd love a cup!
Matt: Sounds tasty.
Me: What is liberty, Boo?
Boo: Liver-tea is a big castle in America.
Matt: Technically, America was founded after the time of castles.
Boo: Liver- tea is a mountain with a castle covered in ice cubes.
Matt: Sounds like Superman's fortress.
Boo: Who's Soup Man?
Me: Soup Man drinks liver- tea
Matt: No soup for you!
Know what goes great with liver-tea?
My show.
A new episode has been posted.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Ham has a name
Miss Boo discovered the joy of drawing late in life. While her peers began drawing and coloring at about two years old, Boo only became interested last month and she's about to turn four. The frustration I had with trying to get her interested in coloring has been replaced with the joy of teaching her to draw her favorite objects. Like flowers, butterflies, and Captain Toilet.
From what I have gathered from the drawings, Captain Toilet has a toilet seat for a head and wears a long cape. Mrs. Toilet has the same head, but wears a dress. She has long eyelashes and 20 fingers on each hand. Then there's the baby toilets. They are round and expressionless.
Today Boo drew the Toilet family and added a small round-ish object with a long tail next to the baby toilets. I asked what it was. She replied, "Duh Mom, the baby toilets unraveled the toilet paper!!"
Once she tired of Captain Toilet, I showed her how to make a Christmas tree. Triangle tree. Square trunk. Round ornaments. And a round tree topper. She's not quite ready for stars.
Boo drew a series of trees in various colors, loaded with ornaments and lights. The trees appeared to be topped with long hair. I asked her what that was about. Her reply? "Christmas trees are covered in fur, Mommy." I asked if she meant fir, instead of fur? "No, they're covered in fur. That's how they stay warm outside."
Boo paused while drawing a hot pink fuzzy Christmas tree:
Boo: Mom, his name is Edward.
Me: Huh?
Boo: The boy who plays ham. His name is Edward.
Me: Oh! Mystery solved!
Boo: It's ED-ward. Not Egg-ward.
Me: You were calling him Eggward, weren't you?
Boo: Yeah....but he's ham.
Then Boo put down the colors and began running back and forth across the room, picking imaginary flowers and singing this song:
What kind of flower can you be?
What kind of flower can you be?
If you want to be a flower you can be!
Flower, flower, flower flower!
If you want to be a flower, you can be!
You can be a daisy or a rose.
If you want to be a flower you can be!
You can be seaweed.
That's not my favorite flower.
That's not a flower.
What kind of flower can you be?
If you want to be a flower, you can be.
If you want to be a flower you can be!
What is that kid going to be when she grows up? I'm hoping that imagination of hers makes her very very very rich.
From what I have gathered from the drawings, Captain Toilet has a toilet seat for a head and wears a long cape. Mrs. Toilet has the same head, but wears a dress. She has long eyelashes and 20 fingers on each hand. Then there's the baby toilets. They are round and expressionless.
Today Boo drew the Toilet family and added a small round-ish object with a long tail next to the baby toilets. I asked what it was. She replied, "Duh Mom, the baby toilets unraveled the toilet paper!!"
Once she tired of Captain Toilet, I showed her how to make a Christmas tree. Triangle tree. Square trunk. Round ornaments. And a round tree topper. She's not quite ready for stars.
Boo drew a series of trees in various colors, loaded with ornaments and lights. The trees appeared to be topped with long hair. I asked her what that was about. Her reply? "Christmas trees are covered in fur, Mommy." I asked if she meant fir, instead of fur? "No, they're covered in fur. That's how they stay warm outside."
Boo paused while drawing a hot pink fuzzy Christmas tree:
Boo: Mom, his name is Edward.
Me: Huh?
Boo: The boy who plays ham. His name is Edward.
Me: Oh! Mystery solved!
Boo: It's ED-ward. Not Egg-ward.
Me: You were calling him Eggward, weren't you?
Boo: Yeah....but he's ham.
Then Boo put down the colors and began running back and forth across the room, picking imaginary flowers and singing this song:
What kind of flower can you be?
What kind of flower can you be?
If you want to be a flower you can be!
Flower, flower, flower flower!
If you want to be a flower, you can be!
You can be a daisy or a rose.
If you want to be a flower you can be!
You can be seaweed.
That's not my favorite flower.
That's not a flower.
What kind of flower can you be?
If you want to be a flower, you can be.
If you want to be a flower you can be!
What is that kid going to be when she grows up? I'm hoping that imagination of hers makes her very very very rich.
Friday, October 26, 2007
No Soup For You!
Conversation with the three year old Miss Boo about the song she is singing for the school play.
Boo: (sings) You've heard of chicken soup, and turkey soup, and barley and potato!!
Me: (interrupting) Yuck. I don't like any of those soups.
Boo: (annoyed) Noodle soup with carrots, minestrone and potato.
Me: More yuck! Those soups are gross.
Boo: Mom. I'm singing. You've heard of alphabet soup, and wonton soup and chowder made with clams...
Me: Oh yeah! Clam chowder. Now there's a soup.
Boo: (through gritted teeth) Rice soup with chicken and split pea soup made with ham. I still don't know the name of the boy who is ham.
Me: PEA SOUP? Why don't I just throw up right here. There's nothing worse than pea soup.
Boo: Are there any soups you DO like?
Me: Cheesy beer soup.
Boo: That's all?
Me: Yep. Clam Chowder and Cheesy Beer Soup. Those other soups are gross.
Boo: Mom, get over it.
Boo: (sings) You've heard of chicken soup, and turkey soup, and barley and potato!!
Me: (interrupting) Yuck. I don't like any of those soups.
Boo: (annoyed) Noodle soup with carrots, minestrone and potato.
Me: More yuck! Those soups are gross.
Boo: Mom. I'm singing. You've heard of alphabet soup, and wonton soup and chowder made with clams...
Me: Oh yeah! Clam chowder. Now there's a soup.
Boo: (through gritted teeth) Rice soup with chicken and split pea soup made with ham. I still don't know the name of the boy who is ham.
Me: PEA SOUP? Why don't I just throw up right here. There's nothing worse than pea soup.
Boo: Are there any soups you DO like?
Me: Cheesy beer soup.
Boo: That's all?
Me: Yep. Clam Chowder and Cheesy Beer Soup. Those other soups are gross.
Boo: Mom, get over it.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Vacuum Isn't Good Enough
Matt and I were feeding the babies in one room. 3 year old Boo was watching The Goodnight Show on PBS Kids Sprout in another room.
She came into our room, softly approached her daddy, and whispered, "Daddy. Our vacuum isn't good enough."
"Huh?" Matt asked. "What are you talking about?"
Boo spoke louder. "Daddy, our vacuum isn't good enough. We need a Swivel Sweeper. It gets under the furniture and picks up cat hair."
And with that, Boo ran off to the other room.
Matt turned to me, "No more channels that show commercials. She gets a DVD at night from now on."
I put my baby to bed and wandered into the TV room. I re-wound the programming, courtesy of Tivo. There it was. A Swivel Sweeper mini infomerical, airing between Thomas and Jakers.
"Mommy! It's the Swivel Sweeper commercial! Let's watch it together!" Boo crawled onto the couch next to me. "See! Regular vacuums come unplugged from the wall. The Swivel Sweeper runs on batteries. It doesn't have wheels. It goes under the furniture. See! It picks up cat hair. Look at those kids. They can use the Swivel Sweeper! Can we get a Swivel Sweeper? Please, Mommy, please? I'm going to go ask Daddy."
Boo hopped off the couch to go ask Daddy. She came back into the room looking dejected. "Daddy said no. Hey! Can we watch that it again? I love that Swivel Sweeper commercial!"
I knew Miss Boo would one day be swayed by TV commercials. I had no idea the first experience would be for a battery operated vacuum.
She came into our room, softly approached her daddy, and whispered, "Daddy. Our vacuum isn't good enough."
"Huh?" Matt asked. "What are you talking about?"
Boo spoke louder. "Daddy, our vacuum isn't good enough. We need a Swivel Sweeper. It gets under the furniture and picks up cat hair."
And with that, Boo ran off to the other room.
Matt turned to me, "No more channels that show commercials. She gets a DVD at night from now on."
I put my baby to bed and wandered into the TV room. I re-wound the programming, courtesy of Tivo. There it was. A Swivel Sweeper mini infomerical, airing between Thomas and Jakers.
"Mommy! It's the Swivel Sweeper commercial! Let's watch it together!" Boo crawled onto the couch next to me. "See! Regular vacuums come unplugged from the wall. The Swivel Sweeper runs on batteries. It doesn't have wheels. It goes under the furniture. See! It picks up cat hair. Look at those kids. They can use the Swivel Sweeper! Can we get a Swivel Sweeper? Please, Mommy, please? I'm going to go ask Daddy."
Boo hopped off the couch to go ask Daddy. She came back into the room looking dejected. "Daddy said no. Hey! Can we watch that it again? I love that Swivel Sweeper commercial!"
I knew Miss Boo would one day be swayed by TV commercials. I had no idea the first experience would be for a battery operated vacuum.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Happy 1st Birthday Juna
Hello, my little one year old.
Look! Mommy bought you a silly happy birthday hat. May I put in on your head?
Ok, another time, then...
October 17th. Happy June Bug Day. Oh Junie Bug. What a bittersweet day for your Mommy. While I'm sad that you are becoming a toddler and no longer a baby, I'm also grateful I get to spend this day with you at all!
Today as I watch you toddle about the house, play with your favorite toys, and shout, "GONE GONE GONE," (the only word you use right now) I can't help but think about her. The woman we will both wonder about for the rest of our lives. Your birth mother. As I celebrate your birthday today, I have to wonder, is this day special to her, too? As she goes about her day today, is she taking time to wonder about you? Is she staring into space, trying to picture your face? Does today have meaning to her like it does to me? Or does thinking about you bring too much pain?
I don't know anything about your birth family. I don't know if your birth mom was my age or a teenager. I don't know if she cried when you were born because she knew she could not keep you or if she cried with relief, knowing you'd soon be gone. I'll never know the truth. And I promise you will always know that. I will never lead you to believe anything but what we already know. I'm sorry it's not much. You deserve to know more.
I have to think that your birth mother wanted a better life for you. Your family placed you in place where guaranteed you would be found. I have to hope they knew what would happen next. That you would be found and taken to the orphanage. I have to hold onto the hope they knew you would receive good care until a family adopted you. I have to hope they did this, knowing you would actually be adopted. That you could have a chance at a better life.
You are from a small community in China. I wonder if word got out as to what happened to you. Perhaps your birth mother knows you went to America. Perhaps today she knows you are with a family who cares for you and loves you so very much. Or maybe she has mother's intuition and just knows deep down that you're just fine.
We'll never know. And she may never know. I'm so sorry about that, my baby.
Whatever is the case, I am thinking of her today. I am thinking of the family that gave you life. I will always be so grateful to them for creating such an amazing little human being.
You've only been with us a few months, and I can't even believe that fact. It feels like you've been a part of me since before you were born. Because you have. From the moment I approached Matt with the idea to adopt from China, I loved you. I loved you when you were just paperwork needing to be notarized and pink bubblegum luggage that needed to be packed. Then when I saw those eyes staring up at me from the referral photo, that was it. You were no longer a dream. You were my daughter.
I wish I knew which person in China placed your photo with our paperwork. Who decided you were the daughter for us? How did they get it so right? How did they know you'd be the one to walk past me while playing, then double back because you want to give me a hug? That when I feed you, you stare deeply into my eyes and stroke my face with your little hand? That I can't stop staring at you, so impressed with your beauty, your curiosity, your determination, and your courage. How did they create a match made in heaven?
I love that today is your day. This is the first of many more to come. Happy 1st Birthday to my sweet little Juna. I am so honored that you are my daughter.
Today as I watch you toddle about the house, play with your favorite toys, and shout, "GONE GONE GONE," (the only word you use right now) I can't help but think about her. The woman we will both wonder about for the rest of our lives. Your birth mother. As I celebrate your birthday today, I have to wonder, is this day special to her, too? As she goes about her day today, is she taking time to wonder about you? Is she staring into space, trying to picture your face? Does today have meaning to her like it does to me? Or does thinking about you bring too much pain?
I don't know anything about your birth family. I don't know if your birth mom was my age or a teenager. I don't know if she cried when you were born because she knew she could not keep you or if she cried with relief, knowing you'd soon be gone. I'll never know the truth. And I promise you will always know that. I will never lead you to believe anything but what we already know. I'm sorry it's not much. You deserve to know more.
I have to think that your birth mother wanted a better life for you. Your family placed you in place where guaranteed you would be found. I have to hope they knew what would happen next. That you would be found and taken to the orphanage. I have to hold onto the hope they knew you would receive good care until a family adopted you. I have to hope they did this, knowing you would actually be adopted. That you could have a chance at a better life.
You are from a small community in China. I wonder if word got out as to what happened to you. Perhaps your birth mother knows you went to America. Perhaps today she knows you are with a family who cares for you and loves you so very much. Or maybe she has mother's intuition and just knows deep down that you're just fine.
We'll never know. And she may never know. I'm so sorry about that, my baby.
Whatever is the case, I am thinking of her today. I am thinking of the family that gave you life. I will always be so grateful to them for creating such an amazing little human being.
You've only been with us a few months, and I can't even believe that fact. It feels like you've been a part of me since before you were born. Because you have. From the moment I approached Matt with the idea to adopt from China, I loved you. I loved you when you were just paperwork needing to be notarized and pink bubblegum luggage that needed to be packed. Then when I saw those eyes staring up at me from the referral photo, that was it. You were no longer a dream. You were my daughter.
I wish I knew which person in China placed your photo with our paperwork. Who decided you were the daughter for us? How did they get it so right? How did they know you'd be the one to walk past me while playing, then double back because you want to give me a hug? That when I feed you, you stare deeply into my eyes and stroke my face with your little hand? That I can't stop staring at you, so impressed with your beauty, your curiosity, your determination, and your courage. How did they create a match made in heaven?
I love that today is your day. This is the first of many more to come. Happy 1st Birthday to my sweet little Juna. I am so honored that you are my daughter.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Chinese poo
My three year old had to poop.
Boo: Mommy, sit with me.
Me: Ok. Let me cover my nose with my shirt first.
Boo: Good idea. I stink! (Looks down as she goes.) Mommy! Mommy!
Me: What?
Boo: Look! My poop made a Chinese letter. What Chinese word is that?
Me: Oh Boo. Seriously....
Boo: (Stares into toilet) I think my poop spelled Ni Hao! Hello poop! Hello poop!
Me: Well, say goodbye to the poop because it needs to be flushed now.
Boo: Bye poop! Wow, I'm so proud. My poop speaks Chinese!
Boo: Mommy, sit with me.
Me: Ok. Let me cover my nose with my shirt first.
Boo: Good idea. I stink! (Looks down as she goes.) Mommy! Mommy!
Me: What?
Boo: Look! My poop made a Chinese letter. What Chinese word is that?
Me: Oh Boo. Seriously....
Boo: (Stares into toilet) I think my poop spelled Ni Hao! Hello poop! Hello poop!
Me: Well, say goodbye to the poop because it needs to be flushed now.
Boo: Bye poop! Wow, I'm so proud. My poop speaks Chinese!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Bye Bye Calloween
Last night, Miss Boo and I played Halloween. It's no longer "Calloween." It's nice when your kids learn to say their words correctly, but it's sad at the same time. You kind of miss it when they say spoon instead of foon. Or eyebrows instead of eyebrooze.
I told Boo the neighbors around here, with their pristine perfect yards and their perfectly decorated living rooms, give out the best candy. Be prepared for rented fog machines on the streets, the spooky flicker of strobe lights, homes turned into haunted mansions, and front yard parties filled with drunken six figure earners. Ahhh but the bad thing about the 40 and up yupster crowd? They make you work for their full size Snickers bars.
I remember the first year we took Boo trick or treating. She was ten months old. One of the neighbors actually asked her to do a trick. Buddy, she's a baby. Ok, fine. Who takes a baby trick or treating in the first place? How about parents who are jonzin for some candy and are too lazy to head to the store? Isn't that why you have kids in the first place? The perks of trick or treating, maaaaan!
I told Boo to practice some knock knock jokes. Here's what she came up with.
Me: Hello, little girl. I'd love to give you some candy, but you need to do a trick for me first. Yikes, this sounds creepy... Um... hey! How about a joke???
Boo: Knock knock.
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Boo!
Me: Boo who?
Boo: What's wrong with you?
Me: Hmm.. we need to work on that one. Ok, let's try again.
Boo: Knock knock
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Kleenex
Me: Kleenex who?
Boo: What, are you sick or something?
Me: Wow. I'm playing straight man to an antagonistic three year old. Let's try again!
Boo: Knock knock
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Candy!
Me: Candy who?
Boo: When are you going to give me some candy????
Me: Maybe we should practice a little song instead.
Watch for a new episode of WTYM-the show on Monday.
I told Boo the neighbors around here, with their pristine perfect yards and their perfectly decorated living rooms, give out the best candy. Be prepared for rented fog machines on the streets, the spooky flicker of strobe lights, homes turned into haunted mansions, and front yard parties filled with drunken six figure earners. Ahhh but the bad thing about the 40 and up yupster crowd? They make you work for their full size Snickers bars.
I remember the first year we took Boo trick or treating. She was ten months old. One of the neighbors actually asked her to do a trick. Buddy, she's a baby. Ok, fine. Who takes a baby trick or treating in the first place? How about parents who are jonzin for some candy and are too lazy to head to the store? Isn't that why you have kids in the first place? The perks of trick or treating, maaaaan!
I told Boo to practice some knock knock jokes. Here's what she came up with.
Me: Hello, little girl. I'd love to give you some candy, but you need to do a trick for me first. Yikes, this sounds creepy... Um... hey! How about a joke???
Boo: Knock knock.
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Boo!
Me: Boo who?
Boo: What's wrong with you?
Me: Hmm.. we need to work on that one. Ok, let's try again.
Boo: Knock knock
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Kleenex
Me: Kleenex who?
Boo: What, are you sick or something?
Me: Wow. I'm playing straight man to an antagonistic three year old. Let's try again!
Boo: Knock knock
Me: Who's there?
Boo: Candy!
Me: Candy who?
Boo: When are you going to give me some candy????
Me: Maybe we should practice a little song instead.
Watch for a new episode of WTYM-the show on Monday.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Conversations with the Mutha Family- Fly Smashers
Come, sit at the dinner table with my family. Observe last night's dinner conversation.
Me: (singing to Miss Boo) Little Bunny Foo Foo, hopping through the forest, scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head.
Boo: Why?
Me: Huh? Why what?
Boo: Why did he bop them on the head?
Me: I don't know Boo. It's a silly song. (singing the second part of the song) And down came the good fairy and she said, 'Little Bunny Foo Foo, I don't want to see you, scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head!'
Boo: Why? Why did she say that?
Me: (Sighs) Because, Boo. It's not nice to bop field mice on the head.
Boo: Why does Bunny Foo Foo bop mice on the head?
Me: I don't know, Boo! It's just a silly song. Mommy sang it when she was little.
Boo: But why does he bop field mice on the head???
Me: Because Bunny Foo Foo has unresolved anger issues not properly addressed in therapy.
Boo: Oh. Ok.
Me: (To Matt.) I often wonder if she repeats what we tell her at school.
Matt: Scary.
Me: OH, by the way, Mister! Who's been smashing flies against the wall in the back hallway and not cleaning them up?
Matt: Oops, forgot to do that.
Me: Yeah. I came home today to find fly moosh all over the walls.
Matt: Sorry.
Me: I don't want to see fly particles all over the walls. Fly particles are not part of my overall design scheme in this house. (Get up to take Junie's tray to the kitchen to clean)
Matt: (Hands me Av's tray.) Here's take this one, too.
Me: Why should I do you any favors, Fly Smasher?
Matt: Hey, that would be a great band name! The Fly Smashers!
Me: Oh my gawd. I'm leaving home. You people are nuts.
Me: (singing to Miss Boo) Little Bunny Foo Foo, hopping through the forest, scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head.
Boo: Why?
Me: Huh? Why what?
Boo: Why did he bop them on the head?
Me: I don't know Boo. It's a silly song. (singing the second part of the song) And down came the good fairy and she said, 'Little Bunny Foo Foo, I don't want to see you, scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head!'
Boo: Why? Why did she say that?
Me: (Sighs) Because, Boo. It's not nice to bop field mice on the head.
Boo: Why does Bunny Foo Foo bop mice on the head?
Me: I don't know, Boo! It's just a silly song. Mommy sang it when she was little.
Boo: But why does he bop field mice on the head???
Me: Because Bunny Foo Foo has unresolved anger issues not properly addressed in therapy.
Boo: Oh. Ok.
Me: (To Matt.) I often wonder if she repeats what we tell her at school.
Matt: Scary.
Me: OH, by the way, Mister! Who's been smashing flies against the wall in the back hallway and not cleaning them up?
Matt: Oops, forgot to do that.
Me: Yeah. I came home today to find fly moosh all over the walls.
Matt: Sorry.
Me: I don't want to see fly particles all over the walls. Fly particles are not part of my overall design scheme in this house. (Get up to take Junie's tray to the kitchen to clean)
Matt: (Hands me Av's tray.) Here's take this one, too.
Me: Why should I do you any favors, Fly Smasher?
Matt: Hey, that would be a great band name! The Fly Smashers!
Me: Oh my gawd. I'm leaving home. You people are nuts.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Conversations with Miss Boo- Chinese
A dinner conversation with my three year old, the lovely and talented Miss Boo. Sometimes she's a typical three year old and sometimes she's such a teenager it's scary. And yes, she really does talk like that. I'm quoting exactly from our conversation. I'm keeping a notebook on the table at all times just for these situations. I want to remember encounters like this for years to come!
Boo: Mama, is Juna used to us yet?
Me: Hmm.. we're pretty weird, so she'll probably never be used to us. Why do you ask?
Boo: You know her original birth place was China.
Me: (Laughing) Why yes, it was Boo! Remember, Daddy and I went to China to bring her home?
Boo: She was an orphan in an orphanage.
Me: A nice lady found her and brought her to the orphanage.
Boo: No, the POLICE took her to the orphanage!
Me: Actually, you are right. A lady found her and called the police and the police took her to the orphanage.
Boo: Sometimes you don't get your stories straight.
Me: (More laughing) So true. I'm old! Give me a break.
Boo: No, give ME a break. I'm pretty frustrated.
Me: Oh here we go! Why are you frustrated?
Boo: How come we never speak Chinese any more? We used to say Ni Hao all the time and now we never say it anymore.
Me: That's true, we should speak more Chinese, but I don't know much Chinese. I'm sorry Boo.
Boo: I'm really sad you don't teach me any Chinese. Maybe you can work on that.
Me: Ok, Boo. I'll get to work on that right away.
I find it amusing that my three year old is busting my chops because I'm not teaching her Chinese.
This morning I attempted to get Boo ready for school. She kept slamming an imaginary door in my face. She'd make a slamming motion, then say, "I can't hear you! I'm behind this closed door now!"
Never a boring moment with the Boo.
Boo: Mama, is Juna used to us yet?
Me: Hmm.. we're pretty weird, so she'll probably never be used to us. Why do you ask?
Boo: You know her original birth place was China.
Me: (Laughing) Why yes, it was Boo! Remember, Daddy and I went to China to bring her home?
Boo: She was an orphan in an orphanage.
Me: A nice lady found her and brought her to the orphanage.
Boo: No, the POLICE took her to the orphanage!
Me: Actually, you are right. A lady found her and called the police and the police took her to the orphanage.
Boo: Sometimes you don't get your stories straight.
Me: (More laughing) So true. I'm old! Give me a break.
Boo: No, give ME a break. I'm pretty frustrated.
Me: Oh here we go! Why are you frustrated?
Boo: How come we never speak Chinese any more? We used to say Ni Hao all the time and now we never say it anymore.
Me: That's true, we should speak more Chinese, but I don't know much Chinese. I'm sorry Boo.
Boo: I'm really sad you don't teach me any Chinese. Maybe you can work on that.
Me: Ok, Boo. I'll get to work on that right away.
I find it amusing that my three year old is busting my chops because I'm not teaching her Chinese.
This morning I attempted to get Boo ready for school. She kept slamming an imaginary door in my face. She'd make a slamming motion, then say, "I can't hear you! I'm behind this closed door now!"
Never a boring moment with the Boo.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Conversations from our night
I'm doing something very annoying. (Just ONE thing? Noooo, not possible. Not me!)
When Miss Boo, the three year old, doesn't understand what I'm telling her, I raise my voice. As if she was completely deaf and not just three and living in her own dreamy Mulan-y existence.
Last night during dinner, I did it again. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Boo, eat your dinner.
Boo: I don't know what this is!
Me: It's pizza. Boo, you saw me make it. It's pizza!
Boo: I don't know what it is!
Me: IT'S PIZZA BOO. LOOK IT'S PIZZA! (turning to Matt.) Why do I shout as if she can't hear me? She's not 80. She can hear me perfectly well.
Matt: (In an old man's voice) Speak up, I can't hear you!
Me: (In a voice that sounds like my friend's Jewish Grandmother) Nahnia, honey. Can you hear me? Turn up your hearing aid. I'm talking to you, sweetie.
Boo: What are you doing?
Matt: Huh? What? Speak up, I can't hear you!
Boo: Why are you two talking like that?
Me: Booooo, dahling. Put your teeth back in. I can't understand you.
Matt: (Draws in his lips over his teeth) My teeth? Where's my teeth? I can't find my teeth!!
While this is going on, Junie Bug is pointing at her tray and yelling, "Ahh done! Ahhhhh DONE!" Raising her arms above her head and repeating, "Ahhhh done! Ahhhhhhhhh!" ANd Avie is just staring at us with huge confused eyes. Which made me bust out laughing, which made her jump, which made me laugh even harder. Which made Matt laugh, which made Juna screw up her face and go, "Eeeeeeeeeeeh!" Which again, made me laugh some more, which lead to a huge hacking coughing fit because I've been sick. I don't know how you smokers do it. I cannot laugh right now without spending 10 minutes coughing up a lung.
Me: Nahnia, eat honey. You're not getting any younger.
Matt: Prunes! Prunes! I need prunes!
And with that, Boo's little face crumpled and she began sobbing. Which made Av sob. Which made Junie sob.
Ahh yes, we're so proud of our parenting skills.
Later that night, everyone in the house was sleeping. I heard Boo mumbling from her bed. I walked in to find her sitting up, grasping a plastic spatula to her chest, and talking in her sleep. She was slurring, "I love my spatula. This is my spatula. I love it." I gently lowered her back to her pillow. She curled up, hugging her spatula. "I really really really love you, Mommy. And I love my spatula." I brushed her hair back from her face and asked, "Boo, are you ok?" She replied, "Yeah. I just love you and my spatula." Then she started snoring and was completely out cold.
Sometimes motherhood is a trip down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. And sometimes you're the one who digs the hole and pushes everyone down there with you.
When Miss Boo, the three year old, doesn't understand what I'm telling her, I raise my voice. As if she was completely deaf and not just three and living in her own dreamy Mulan-y existence.
Last night during dinner, I did it again. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Boo, eat your dinner.
Boo: I don't know what this is!
Me: It's pizza. Boo, you saw me make it. It's pizza!
Boo: I don't know what it is!
Me: IT'S PIZZA BOO. LOOK IT'S PIZZA! (turning to Matt.) Why do I shout as if she can't hear me? She's not 80. She can hear me perfectly well.
Matt: (In an old man's voice) Speak up, I can't hear you!
Me: (In a voice that sounds like my friend's Jewish Grandmother) Nahnia, honey. Can you hear me? Turn up your hearing aid. I'm talking to you, sweetie.
Boo: What are you doing?
Matt: Huh? What? Speak up, I can't hear you!
Boo: Why are you two talking like that?
Me: Booooo, dahling. Put your teeth back in. I can't understand you.
Matt: (Draws in his lips over his teeth) My teeth? Where's my teeth? I can't find my teeth!!
While this is going on, Junie Bug is pointing at her tray and yelling, "Ahh done! Ahhhhh DONE!" Raising her arms above her head and repeating, "Ahhhh done! Ahhhhhhhhh!" ANd Avie is just staring at us with huge confused eyes. Which made me bust out laughing, which made her jump, which made me laugh even harder. Which made Matt laugh, which made Juna screw up her face and go, "Eeeeeeeeeeeh!" Which again, made me laugh some more, which lead to a huge hacking coughing fit because I've been sick. I don't know how you smokers do it. I cannot laugh right now without spending 10 minutes coughing up a lung.
Me: Nahnia, eat honey. You're not getting any younger.
Matt: Prunes! Prunes! I need prunes!
And with that, Boo's little face crumpled and she began sobbing. Which made Av sob. Which made Junie sob.
Ahh yes, we're so proud of our parenting skills.
Later that night, everyone in the house was sleeping. I heard Boo mumbling from her bed. I walked in to find her sitting up, grasping a plastic spatula to her chest, and talking in her sleep. She was slurring, "I love my spatula. This is my spatula. I love it." I gently lowered her back to her pillow. She curled up, hugging her spatula. "I really really really love you, Mommy. And I love my spatula." I brushed her hair back from her face and asked, "Boo, are you ok?" She replied, "Yeah. I just love you and my spatula." Then she started snoring and was completely out cold.
Sometimes motherhood is a trip down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. And sometimes you're the one who digs the hole and pushes everyone down there with you.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Boo Discovers Yoda
My three year old sleeps with the page out of the Halloween costume catalog that features the Mulan costume.
She also carries the rest of the Halloween catalog around with her from room to room. She will look at the costumes and ask me endless questions about each of the characters.
Today she found.....
Yoda.
And a billion questions came. So I told her to ask her father. Because, really? How do you explain Yoda to a three year old?
Matt showed Miss Boo scenes from Star Wars so she could get familiar with Yoda. I'm glad he did it because I do not have the patience to explain the complex plot lines of Star Wars to a preschooler.
Yoda has a light saber. It's like Mulan's sword. Only it glows!
While watching the scenes, Boo would turn her head, cover her face, and say, "I can't look!" Matt would offer to turn it off and Boo would yell, "NO I HAVE TO WATCH MORE!"
And now, a new obsession in the house has begun.
Yoda. Who knew?
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