Caed Speaks Out

A couple days ago, C witnessed a rare occurrence--mom attempting to put on make-up--and asked, “Why are you trying to look good, mom?” I tried not to read into his tone that he meant to imply it was a lost cause.

Then this morning, after a round of “whys” regarding my wedding ring, he announced that he had married all of his cousins when he went to Michigan. I guess my explanation about “getting married” didn’t quite sink in. But even after a second attempt at defining marriage in three year old terms, C was emphatic that he had married his cousins. Although, to his credit, he had cut back his list to just include Micah and Emily. Ahh, problematic on soo many levels, even in Massachusetts.


The Promised Land

“And in the promised land, it’s gonna be so grand, we’ll have our fill from the grill, as much as we can stand. It’s gonna be so great, put waffles on my plate, cuz we’re goin’ to the promised land!”
As Bob the Tomato and Larry the cucumber (also known as the Boyz in the Sink) belted out this song on the way to school, in classic Veggie Tales fashion, Caed piped in. “Mom, where’s the promised land?”

I fumbled around with an answer about Moses, the Israelites and a land promised by God, trying to come up with an explanation that would satisfy a three year old. It must have been pretty good, because instead of the usual half-dozen “why”s, I heard,
“Mom, will you take me and Baby Dani to the promised land? Maybe when we get older?”

“Bud, it’s not really a place I can take you....”

“But I WANNA go to the PROMISED land MAWWWM!” (crying/whining).

“Well, whining definitely isn’t gonna get you into the promised land. So unless you want to wander in the wilderness for 40 years, let’s choose to have a happy heart, okay?”

“Why you say ‘wander in da wil-ner-dess, mom’? Can we do that next time?”

Hmm. I’ll have to get back to you on that one, Caed.


The 4-Legged Step Child

Poor Calli. Ever since we brought that car seat contraption home, with her newborn wiggly little brother in it, her life hasn’t been the same. Today Calli brought forward her list of grievances:

1) At night I’m always the last to get fed. Granted, I can mooch a fair amount from the baby, but I still need my kibble to keep me happy and healthy. I shouldn’t have to whine incessantly to remind you either. It’s 8:00 p.m. for goodness sake, and I should be already curled up for the evening.

2) This house is full of kids’ toys. All of which I’m not allowed to chew on or chase after. Yet, for all of the oodles of toys those kids have, they have claimed the only two dog toys in the house as their own. I want my kong back. It is NOT a teether, Dani!

3) Why is my master never home? Have you done something to drive him away? If he were home more, I imagine I would get the love and attention I deserve. HE would throw the ball to me. HE would not banish me to the mud room every time my paws are just a teensy bit dirty.

4) Don’t get so mad at me every time I bark. So what if your precious little kids wake up. I bark for good reasons--because there is imminent danger lurking in the form of the UPS man, or because a ferocious girl scout is knocking at the door peddling fat grams, or in some cases, because the other dogs are doing it. And that is just our thing, so deal with it already.

5) Try to keep the kids out of my water bowl, would ya? Who knows where those hands have been. It’s disgusting. And yes, it is a bit judgmental of me to say considering I lick my butt. But again, in dog world, that is considered good hygiene, and I don’t plan on stopping that anytime soon, so quit trying to make me.

6) Toss me a ball every now and then. Take me on a walk. Please oh PLEASE can we go to the beach? I promise I won’t drink too much saltwater this time.

7) I just wish you’d love me like you did when I was the only “baby”. But because I’m a dog, I’ve already forgotten my list of grievances and have forgiven you completely....


Monday Night Fever

My kids have finally learned to share. At least when it comes to germs. And that’s why it was no shocker that I caught the virus Caed had just kicked a day or two prior.

So last night my fever got up pretty high, and after some pretty weird dreams, and waking up with “the shakes” and then “the chills”, I started to wonder how the heck I was gonna get through the day.

Larry was out of the house before the kids woke up. He had worked last night until 9 p.m., came home to eat and look at the kids sleeping, and then did some more work at home until around 1 a.m., only to get up at 4 a.m. to leave again for work. He had his own worries, and it would be pointless to bother him with mine. So I took the max dose of Tylenol and laid on the couch until the kids woke up. Ok, so they were already awake, but I laid there until I couldn’t ignore them any longer.

Once the Tylenol kicked in, and I felt like I could stand up without passing out, I picked Dani up and managed to get her changed and downstairs. And then I used my lifeline. I called my friend Kate. Without skipping a beat, she agreed to let me drop Caed off for our regularly scheduled play group, and return home with Sheridan so we could both nap. Even better, she listened to me whine and wallow, and “felt my pain”.

And so today, even though I feel a few rungs above wretched, I am finding myself deeply grateful for a friend like Kate. Without family close by, and with a husband who simply can’t “be there”, it is such a blessing to have a caring friend around the corner to bail me out.

So now I’m still nicely drugged up, and trying to muster the energy for a trip to the doctor’s office in a few minutes--an ear check follow-up for Sheridan, dating back to the previous round of feverish family fun. Meantime, I’m counting the hours until I can go back to bed for the night!


Bean There, Done That

The first time we went to visit the LL Bean flagship store, we had a blast. We couldn’t begin to see and do it all in the short window we had. So we came back. And then we came back again. And again. And again. And while Caed still seems to love almost every minute of our morning excursions to Freeport, I admit my fondness for the fleece-filled store is waning.

This morning we were there yet again. Larry is working all weekend. It is sopping wet outside (though the rain has subsided), and it is the dead of winter. We HAD to get out of the house today, and we had no choice but to head north to the village of the big boot.

Don’t get me wrong, I bear no ill will toward the boot, the trout ponds, the river aquarium, the climbing rock, the coloring section in the kids’ corner, and the pretending-to-go-camping tents (which normal shoppers know as simply--the tent department).

No, it is not so much bitterness with the boot as it is boredom. It is the realization that I have the women’s shoe department memorized--from the tallest boot to the skinniest flips--thanks to the countless minutes I spent circling the comfort mocs while Caed played on the hiking rock.

Yep, the wonder of this wilderness store has worn off. And I can officially say we’ve “Bean there, done that.”. That won’t, however, prevent Caed from asking “Can we do that ‘gain, Mommy???”


Sally O'Malley Meets Her 3 Year Old Match

“I’m FIFTY, fifty years old’! And I like to KICK.” Anybody else remember this Molly Shannon character (Sally O’Malley) on SNL?

Caed had me laughing so hard this weekend as he announced (in between dancing and kicking) that he was dancing like this because he was 3 years old. I got a bit of it on video... Just cracked me up because it was so out of the blue--and spot on the Molly Shannon/ Sally O’Malley sketch.


Beep, Beep, Ring, Ring, That is how I drive this thing!

I looked down this morning just in time to see Sheridan hoisting herself into her Dora Car, clutching her plastic pink cell phone. Without skipping a beat she put the phone to her ear and the car in “reverse”, all the while babbling on the fake phone. Now where on earth would she get the idea to do that??

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