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It’s A Blonde Thing?

My husband had to work yesterday so my dad picked Fussypants up from school and took him to baseball practice (it takes a village, remember) and I ended up arriving at home with Little Miss before they did. In her typical I’m 3 and most days think clothing should be optional unless it’s an accessory fashion sense way, she began to undress as she walked through the door. One shoe there, another…way…over….there…socks, skirt…all discarded haphazardly in her wake.

I saw the socks first. We have a Golden Retriever who thinks all socks should be his. Thus tiny, casually discarded footwear always hits my radar. So I asked her to pick them up. It went something like this…

Me: Honey, dirty socks don’t belong on the dining room floor. Put them in the laundry please.
Little Miss: I can’t find the other one.
Me: You’d better. I don’t want Crusher to eat it.

Thinking she obliged, I went about my business of preparing dinner. Then I noticed she was still hunting around the dining room.

Me: Did you find it?
Little Miss: Nope.

As my dad and son walked in the house, I realized that she hadn’t found it…because she was still wearing it.

FPK_onesock

I don’t know what’s worse. Me not noticing, or her!

 

 

 

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Writer’s Workshop: “Nit”-picking

2.) Share one of your “did that really just happen to me” life moments.

I can now say that I have been professionally deloused. Check that off the bucket list.

Parenting is fun, isn’t it? I spent two days, including a Saturday night, washing everything in the house and boiling hairbrushes after my three year old daughter was sent home from school with “nits”.

You are getting itchy just reading this, aren’t you?

Apparently she was the second child to be sent home from school that week. Sadly, lice happens. It’s beyond gross, but you have to deal with it. Or it will just get worse.

So, after treating her with an over the counter remedy at home, I made an appointment at a Lice Salon (so glamorous, my life) on the recommendation of a friend, and I am very happy I did. Because the “combing out” aspect of the process is very important and very tedious, and when you have a child who screams as though a limb is being torn off just upon seeing a hairbrush, having someone else do it is a GODSEND.

A little over 2 hours later, we were all deloused, smelled like the inside of a cedar closet and were equipped with follow-up instructions. I now know more about the lice lifecycle than I care to admit and will be arming myself with a lint roller the next time I get on an airplane or go to the movies.

But the best part of the process? I got to go through it not only with my terrified of the combing process three year old, but also with my mother-in-law, while I was nursing a small hangover. A bonding “did that really just happen to me” moment, to be sure.

Mama Kat

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Wanted

“Oh but you were made, by a God who knows your name , He doesn’t make mistakes. For you, you are wanted, you, you are wanted” – Dara MacClean

Little Miss, out of the blue, started asking questions about her birth last night. It went something like this…

LM: Did you buy me from the store?

Me: No, I made you. I grew you inside me and kept you safe until you were born.

LM: God made me.

Me: Yes, He helped. But you were inside me, growing big and strong, until you were ready to come out.

LM: I didn’t like being in there (putting her hand on my tummy).

Me: That’s true. You wanted out early on, that’s why I was on bed rest for eight weeks and then you arrived two weeks early.

LM: Yeah, I remember.

At this point, Fussypants jumped into the conversation to tell his sister (erroneously) that I pooped her out my bum and that’s how she was born. Thankfully, she laughed and isn’t traumatized for life.

fpk_07_13

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Tot Talk: three year old gems

So this guy is posting videos of conversations with his two year old, as reenacted by himself and another grown man. They are very funny, especially the cookie convo in episode #3. I’ve had that conversation, or a version of it, on several occasions with both my kids.

So it got me thinking about conversations with my own children and I thought I’d share two gems that occurred just this morning, in the span of 3o minutes, with my three year old daughter.

Little Miss, at a young age, took a vested interest in her clothing, to the point where we started having arguments over what character she wanted to wear on her underwear when she was barely two. For the record, I do not give a hoot what she chooses, I just want her to choose…and therein lies the issue most mornings. The upside is that she has now started to thank me for washing her favorite undies.

 Today’s clothing drama had to do with shoes. The conversation went something like this.

 Me: Do you guys have your socks and shoes on? We need to leave.

Little Miss: No. I want to wear flip-flops.

Me: You can’t wear flip-flops. No open toed shoes at school because you play outside.

LM: (pouting): I want to wear flip-flops like you.

Me: I’m wearing sandals. And I don’t get to play outside.

LM: You don’t get to play outside? (Accompanied by the saddest face ever so now I’m feeling bad I have to go sit in an office).

Me: No, but you do, so let’s get shoes on.

LM: I want to wear Cinderella shoes. With socks.

Me: Fine (and we get her in shoes).

 As I’m locking the door, she turns to me and says, “These hurt, I want my fast shoes (that’s what she calls her sneakers).

And I wonder why I’m never on time.

The second conversation gem took place in the car.

LM: I want Minnie Mouse.

Me: Where is Minnie Mouse?

LM: There.

Me: Honey, I’m driving the car, I can’t see her.

LM: She’s right there.

Me (straining to see where she is pointing in the rearview mirror): On the floor?

LM: There!

Me: Sweets, I’m driving on the freeway,  I can’t reach her right now. You’ll have to wait.

LM: You are not driving the freeway, you are driving the car.

Me: Right, I’m driving the car on the freeway.

LM (a little quieter): You are driving the car, not the freeway.

 She always has to have the last word.

By the way, the second conversation took place after she ate it in the parking lot when dropping her brother off. She was walking on the curb, slipped and scrapped her knee, then freaked out when it started to bleed. I tried to console her with kisses but she only wanted a Band-Aid, which, thankfully, I found in the glove compartment shoved between sunglasses and my car’s user manual.

Note to self, restock the car with Band-Aids.

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Baby Big Girl

 

How my daughter is turning three tomorrow, I have no idea. It seems like just yesterday she was a newborn. In this short period of time, she’s blossomed into a very sweet, sassy, smart, funny, stubborn, silly little girl. She holds her own with her big brother and surprises me every day with something new she’s learned, be it a song, a ballerina dance she’s made up or counting higher than the day before. She “reads” her brother books, feeds the dog water from a spoon and tells me she loves me often, and says thank you when I tell her I love her. She’s my little shadow, wanting to be around only me if I’m in the vicinity and loves to hold my hand “because it fits”, even in the house.

 

When Fussypants was turning three, I was pregnant with Little Miss and I was so ready for him to be self-sufficient. I didn’t miss him needing me to help him go potty, get a snack or put on his shoes. I was on bed rest, but still working, I was ill and exhausted and ready for him to grow up. But knowing that she’s my last baby, makes having her grow up more difficult. I guess I have a bit of the baby blues. I look at my son, about to graduate Kindergarten and my daughter, about to turn 3 and I can’t help but think of them as babies and wonder where the time went. But we are done, our family is what it is, so don’t get any ideas.

 

But back to my baby girl turning three. I know that if she had been a boy, I would have been happy and our family would have been perfect but I’m not going to lie. I love having a daughter. Every woman should have one, it’s such a humbling experience. She can bring me to my knees in a way Fussypants just doesn’t. But he can make me laugh (especially if I am angry) in a way she never has. He is so easy-peasy compared to her. Maybe it’s his personality or maybe with boys what you see is what you get, but we’ve never argued over what underwear he’s wearing that day and Little Miss and I have had daily meltdown spats over the choice of Disney character on her chonies and she’s not yet three. And don’t get me started about trying to brush her hair. We never had terrible twos with him, but the terrible twos started with her when she was 1.5. 90% of the time, she’s sweet and funny but when that 10% hits…watch out. My mom calls it “going dark”. Her whole face changes, clouding over and she stops talking. She’ll screech like a baby pterodactyl, which is unpleasant, and where we could easily use the redirection method with her brother, she’s focused on whatever it is she isn’t getting and pouts. I’m really hoping that she’s outgrown it and that we won’t have a year of the terrible threes.

 

For her birthday, she wanted a bounce house and Cinderella. So we accommodated. A friend of mine from college warned not to peak on the parties at such a young age, but having Cinderella come to the house was amazing. Little Miss was so excited, it was just the most heart-warming thing to watch. She is still talking about her visit, days later. She actually slept in her Princess dress the night of her party. My hunky fireman husband, who had worked three in a  row and was exhausted, even stopped at the Disney store on his way home to buy her a Cinderella crown (so swoon-worthy, he’s such a good daddy) and she wore it all day long.

 

On her actual birthday, my mom and I are taking her to Disneyland and she has an appointment at the Bibbiddy Bobbiddy Boutique to get a Cinderella up do by a Godmother-in-training. Over the top? Maybe. But I have a daughter and can do girlie things like that if I want to.

 

So happy 3rd birthday to my baby big girl. I love you so much, you and your brother fill my heart with sunshine, and I hope you have a wonderful day.

cake candles cinderella. family FPK_Cinderella FPK_hat FPK_princess joy Jumphouse story8

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