- Hannah got my vote when she runs for President.
- Grace got a conversation about our vacation to the Bahamas with an agreement to go back some day.
- Maggie got her grape tomatoes.
- Mary got her wine.
Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
What The Girls Got
Yesterdays post was incomplete. I told you what they wanted, but left out what they got.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
What The Girls Want
Hannah came home from school today letting me know that when she is elected President of the United States of America she will pass a law that all drinking fountains will serve lemonade.
Grace came home with a paper kite and a note in the shape of a puffy white cloud that said "I will fly my kite in the Bahamas."
Maggie wanted more grape tomatoes.
Mary wanted a class of wine.
I just took note.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Guess What?
Yesterday I shared with Mary a story about Maggie and how much she understands. She's not quite eighteen months old and doesn't say a word yet, but she can understand complex directions.
It happened when I was in Maggie's room and had just finished changing her diaper. I looked around for her socks and realized that she had taken them off earlier when we were downstairs in the playroom. I told her that I needed her to go get her socks and a pair of shoes so that we could put them on her and then go for a car ride to pick her sister up from school. With that she ran off and returned a minute later with both socks and a pair of her shoes. She dropped them in front of me and then turned and headed to the closet to get her coat. I thought that was pretty impressive and told Mary as much.
Upon hearing this Mary made a quip about how smart all our kids were and that she had heard about a recent study that explained that kids get their intelligence from their mother. I don't think she really believes this. I think it's more along the lines of saying to your spouse that "your son/daughter/dog/cat did something gross/not smart/not to my liking" when they've done something gross/not smart or not to their liking. The flipside is that this same spouse is also likely to claim that "my son/daughter/dog/cat/fish did something brilliant or fantastic" when they've done something they want to brag about. That she used a "recent study" to back up her claim doesn't really convince me. I'm more convinced that they do get their intelligence from her when I pick up the girls from school and hear their conversations with each other from my spot in the front seat. To wit, here's the car ride conversation Mary's daughters held yesterday:
"Daddy?"
"Yes Grace?"
"Guess what?"
"I don't know Grace. What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey daddy!"
"Yes, Hannah?"
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey Hannah, guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey Grace, guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
And on and on this went until they started changing it little by little:
"Hey Daddy, guess why?"
"I don't know. Why?" I said playing along.
"Chicken thigh!"
"Hey Daddy, guess what?"
"What?" I asked hoping it was a different answer than the previous times.
"Chicken butt!"
"Okay." I said. This is funny. I get it. But..."
"You just said butt!" They said in unison.
"I didn't mean your gluteus maximus." I said.
"Did you mean my gluteus minimus?' asked Hannah giggling.
And then the conversation, if you could call it that, degraded even further:
"Hey Daddy, guess what?" asked Grace.
"I give up. What?" I replied.
"I have a chicken in my butt!"
I have a feeling that when she reads this Mary is going to say "You need to teach your children not to say 'butt' in public."
It happened when I was in Maggie's room and had just finished changing her diaper. I looked around for her socks and realized that she had taken them off earlier when we were downstairs in the playroom. I told her that I needed her to go get her socks and a pair of shoes so that we could put them on her and then go for a car ride to pick her sister up from school. With that she ran off and returned a minute later with both socks and a pair of her shoes. She dropped them in front of me and then turned and headed to the closet to get her coat. I thought that was pretty impressive and told Mary as much.
Upon hearing this Mary made a quip about how smart all our kids were and that she had heard about a recent study that explained that kids get their intelligence from their mother. I don't think she really believes this. I think it's more along the lines of saying to your spouse that "your son/daughter/dog/cat did something gross/not smart/not to my liking" when they've done something gross/not smart or not to their liking. The flipside is that this same spouse is also likely to claim that "my son/daughter/dog/cat/fish did something brilliant or fantastic" when they've done something they want to brag about. That she used a "recent study" to back up her claim doesn't really convince me. I'm more convinced that they do get their intelligence from her when I pick up the girls from school and hear their conversations with each other from my spot in the front seat. To wit, here's the car ride conversation Mary's daughters held yesterday:
"Daddy?"
"Yes Grace?"
"Guess what?"
"I don't know Grace. What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey daddy!"
"Yes, Hannah?"
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey Hannah, guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
"Hey Grace, guess what?"
"What?"
"Chicken butt!"
And on and on this went until they started changing it little by little:
"Hey Daddy, guess why?"
"I don't know. Why?" I said playing along.
"Chicken thigh!"
"Hey Daddy, guess what?"
"What?" I asked hoping it was a different answer than the previous times.
"Chicken butt!"
"Okay." I said. This is funny. I get it. But..."
"You just said butt!" They said in unison.
"I didn't mean your gluteus maximus." I said.
"Did you mean my gluteus minimus?' asked Hannah giggling.
And then the conversation, if you could call it that, degraded even further:
"Hey Daddy, guess what?" asked Grace.
"I give up. What?" I replied.
"I have a chicken in my butt!"
I have a feeling that when she reads this Mary is going to say "You need to teach your children not to say 'butt' in public."
Sunday, February 24, 2008
She's Got It Going On!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
TCBY/OBGYN
On December 20th, 2007 we loaded up the minivan and moved to Springfield, Missouri; Ozark country. Since then each weekend has been filled up either with entertaining friends and family coming to see us in our new digs or our adventures taking the girls on field trips to explore our new community.
This past weekend we expanded our exploration of our new area when the family took a road trip to Branson, Missouri; an easy thirty minute drive from Springfield due south on I-65. For those unfamiliar with Branson, just think of Las Vegas... now make it family friendly and about 1/16th the size... now picture it located it in Southern Missouri... in the Ozarks. Did I mention we moved to the Ozarks? Sprinkle in a few family acts like the Haygoods (could you have a more family friendly sounding act?) the Oakridge Boys, Andy Williams, Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede, Shoji Tabuchi (whose lobby bathrooms are apparently "fabulous" and "not to be missed" attractions in and of themselves), Yakov Smirnoff and you've got Branson, Missouri.
Our main goal this day was really to get the girls out of the house for a few hours and maybe, just maybe tire them out enough so that they'd go to bed early. Maggie and I had been sick all week and Mary was now starting to catch what we had.
After spotting a billboard earlier in the week the girls asked if we could go to The Titanic Museum. And that's what we did.
It was a surprisingly fun museum. The girls loved getting to meet "Rose" as she strolled through the "ship" and seeing the vintage clothing and rescued items. After dipping our hands in the pool of 28 degree water we all agreed we'd be goners if we were cast into the sea on that fateful voyage. The museum guides handed out cards at the beginning of the tour with names and brief bios of actual passengers on the trip. At the end of the tour you find out if your person made it or not. All three girls and Mary had people who survived. Mine, a third class passenger, was not so fortunate. If you are in Branson and have the time I'd give a thumb's up to checking out the Titanic.
As we were leaving Mary promised the girls that if they were able to get buckled quickly we'd find some place to get a quick treat to eat. They did and off we went. As we drove down Main Street we decided to spend a few extra minutes to tour the town. This being my first visit to Branson, I was driving slowly so we could look around.
We passed the Hollywood Wax Museum, Celebration City, the Baldknobbers Theatre and Andy Williams place. Mary wanted to find some outlet stores so we took a detour off the main road.
As we drove down a side street Gracie commented from the back.
"Did we just pass OB/GYN?"
"What was that sweetie?" asked Mary from the front passenger seat.
"OB/GYN. Did we go past it."
"Um. What do you mean honey?"
Mary and I exchanged confused looks with one another. Neither of us had any idea where this comment came from or what it was related to. Why was our five year old asking about an OB/GYN?
Then Hannah piped up from the back, very matter-of-factly "She means TCBY."
Mary and I did our best not to burst out laughing. I'm fairly certain I have never heard anyone confuse TCBY with OB/GYN. Mary says I'm to stop here and not make any more comments. I think she fears that I might say something in bad taste.
:)
This past weekend we expanded our exploration of our new area when the family took a road trip to Branson, Missouri; an easy thirty minute drive from Springfield due south on I-65. For those unfamiliar with Branson, just think of Las Vegas... now make it family friendly and about 1/16th the size... now picture it located it in Southern Missouri... in the Ozarks. Did I mention we moved to the Ozarks? Sprinkle in a few family acts like the Haygoods (could you have a more family friendly sounding act?) the Oakridge Boys, Andy Williams, Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede, Shoji Tabuchi (whose lobby bathrooms are apparently "fabulous" and "not to be missed" attractions in and of themselves), Yakov Smirnoff and you've got Branson, Missouri.
Our main goal this day was really to get the girls out of the house for a few hours and maybe, just maybe tire them out enough so that they'd go to bed early. Maggie and I had been sick all week and Mary was now starting to catch what we had.
After spotting a billboard earlier in the week the girls asked if we could go to The Titanic Museum. And that's what we did.
It was a surprisingly fun museum. The girls loved getting to meet "Rose" as she strolled through the "ship" and seeing the vintage clothing and rescued items. After dipping our hands in the pool of 28 degree water we all agreed we'd be goners if we were cast into the sea on that fateful voyage. The museum guides handed out cards at the beginning of the tour with names and brief bios of actual passengers on the trip. At the end of the tour you find out if your person made it or not. All three girls and Mary had people who survived. Mine, a third class passenger, was not so fortunate. If you are in Branson and have the time I'd give a thumb's up to checking out the Titanic.
As we were leaving Mary promised the girls that if they were able to get buckled quickly we'd find some place to get a quick treat to eat. They did and off we went. As we drove down Main Street we decided to spend a few extra minutes to tour the town. This being my first visit to Branson, I was driving slowly so we could look around.
We passed the Hollywood Wax Museum, Celebration City, the Baldknobbers Theatre and Andy Williams place. Mary wanted to find some outlet stores so we took a detour off the main road.
As we drove down a side street Gracie commented from the back.
"Did we just pass OB/GYN?"
"What was that sweetie?" asked Mary from the front passenger seat.
"OB/GYN. Did we go past it."
"Um. What do you mean honey?"
Mary and I exchanged confused looks with one another. Neither of us had any idea where this comment came from or what it was related to. Why was our five year old asking about an OB/GYN?
Then Hannah piped up from the back, very matter-of-factly "She means TCBY."
Mary and I did our best not to burst out laughing. I'm fairly certain I have never heard anyone confuse TCBY with OB/GYN. Mary says I'm to stop here and not make any more comments. I think she fears that I might say something in bad taste.
:)
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Do As I Say, Not As I Karate Kick
Hannah and I had a little father to daughter chat today about manners. I decided we needed to discuss the polite way to ask for something after she shouted at me "Dad, get that and give it to me". There were two issues to discuss. First, she shouted at me. I don't like to be shouted at. Second, she forgot to say please.
I stopped what I was doing and paused to think for a second about how to handle this situation. Instead of scolding her, I decided that this would be a good chance to calmly remind her to use polite manners. I thought that if I shared with her that I sometimes forget to say please that we might bond over our omission of manners and the point would sink in. I told her "Hannah, aside from yelling at me, you also forgot to say 'please'. If you want some help, all you have to do is say please and I'm sure I'd be happy to help you with whatever it is you need."
And then I added "You know, sometimes even I forget to say please. I'll make a deal with you. If you will work on trying to say please, I will too. We can work on improving our manners together. Sound good?"
But instead of answering "Yes Daddy. I will work on my manners", she switched topics. The next thing she said was "You know Dad, Gracie and I wouldn't fight so much, but we see you and Mommy fighting all the time, so we learn from you."
What? Where did that come from? I started to chuckle as I thought about this. Hannah, based on our conversation about manners, grasped that I suggested that kids learn from watching their parents. I admitted as much when I told her that I don't always say "please" and told her that we should work on it together. As part of an effort to bond with her I intoned that maybe her forgetting to say "please" was due to my lack of manners. I was only trying to bond after all. But the fighting? I thought she went a little to far with that one. I told her so.
"Hannah, you and Gracie don't fight because you see me and Mommy fighting. Mommy and I don't fight, and we certainly don't bite each other or give each other karate kicks like you gave Gracie this morning, do we?"
That stumped her. "Okay Daddy, but you and your sister and brothers must have had fights when you were a kid."
And that caused me to think. Did I have lots of fights with my siblings growing up? Maybe we did, but I couldn't really recall any. My sister was in high school when I was born and I know we never duked it out. Brother Brian is about ten years older than me and if we had fought he would have had a seriously unfair advantage, so I don't think that happened. Rod is five years older and I know we used to wrestle in the living room, but that was more for me to show off and prove that I could pin him to the floor (a fact that he denies to this day) and my brother Kevin who is three years older was one of my best friends to play with.
Mary has remarked about me and my siblings being odd. To clarify she's said it's odd that we get along so well. She asked if there was any sibling rivalries growing up. I couldn't remember any. Maybe that's due to being the youngest, but we all seemed to get along fairly well. That would be odd. Five kids and no rivalries? I may need to give Ma a call and get the scoop. We're all over thirty now, so I should be able to get the scoop from her without her feeling like she would be hurting anyone's feelings.
And the talk with Hannah? I got her to admit that Mommy and I don't pull each others hair or steal barbies from one another.
I stopped what I was doing and paused to think for a second about how to handle this situation. Instead of scolding her, I decided that this would be a good chance to calmly remind her to use polite manners. I thought that if I shared with her that I sometimes forget to say please that we might bond over our omission of manners and the point would sink in. I told her "Hannah, aside from yelling at me, you also forgot to say 'please'. If you want some help, all you have to do is say please and I'm sure I'd be happy to help you with whatever it is you need."
And then I added "You know, sometimes even I forget to say please. I'll make a deal with you. If you will work on trying to say please, I will too. We can work on improving our manners together. Sound good?"
But instead of answering "Yes Daddy. I will work on my manners", she switched topics. The next thing she said was "You know Dad, Gracie and I wouldn't fight so much, but we see you and Mommy fighting all the time, so we learn from you."
What? Where did that come from? I started to chuckle as I thought about this. Hannah, based on our conversation about manners, grasped that I suggested that kids learn from watching their parents. I admitted as much when I told her that I don't always say "please" and told her that we should work on it together. As part of an effort to bond with her I intoned that maybe her forgetting to say "please" was due to my lack of manners. I was only trying to bond after all. But the fighting? I thought she went a little to far with that one. I told her so.
"Hannah, you and Gracie don't fight because you see me and Mommy fighting. Mommy and I don't fight, and we certainly don't bite each other or give each other karate kicks like you gave Gracie this morning, do we?"
That stumped her. "Okay Daddy, but you and your sister and brothers must have had fights when you were a kid."
And that caused me to think. Did I have lots of fights with my siblings growing up? Maybe we did, but I couldn't really recall any. My sister was in high school when I was born and I know we never duked it out. Brother Brian is about ten years older than me and if we had fought he would have had a seriously unfair advantage, so I don't think that happened. Rod is five years older and I know we used to wrestle in the living room, but that was more for me to show off and prove that I could pin him to the floor (a fact that he denies to this day) and my brother Kevin who is three years older was one of my best friends to play with.
Mary has remarked about me and my siblings being odd. To clarify she's said it's odd that we get along so well. She asked if there was any sibling rivalries growing up. I couldn't remember any. Maybe that's due to being the youngest, but we all seemed to get along fairly well. That would be odd. Five kids and no rivalries? I may need to give Ma a call and get the scoop. We're all over thirty now, so I should be able to get the scoop from her without her feeling like she would be hurting anyone's feelings.
And the talk with Hannah? I got her to admit that Mommy and I don't pull each others hair or steal barbies from one another.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Sign, Sign, Everywhere A Sign
This morning as I was walking from the bedroom to the kitchen I passed by the hall bathroom and saw this sign:
I heard Hannah in the kitchen and called for her to come join me over by the bathroom door. She complied quickly.
"What's up?" She said.
"Not much. What's this sign all about?" I inquired.
"That? That's for Gracie. It's a sign I made."
"Can you tell me what it says?"
"Sure. Well, first of all that is a potty. I put the letter 'P' on it so you could tell. And those are hair clippies and bows. At the top is an arrow pointing down toward the potty. And that is a red line going diagonally across everything. That means no putting hair clippies or bows in the toilet. And that is meant for Grace."
"Right. Got it. No clippies or bows in the toilet. That's a good sign. I'll make sure that one stays up. Now scoot on back to the kitchen table and finish your breakfast."
What cracked me up most about that exchange is that "The Crumpler" made the sign about not clogging the toilet. I guess you could always dissolve toilet paper with some industrial strength Drano. Clippies and bows might be a bit trickier.
I heard Hannah in the kitchen and called for her to come join me over by the bathroom door. She complied quickly.
"What's up?" She said.
"Not much. What's this sign all about?" I inquired.
"That? That's for Gracie. It's a sign I made."
"Can you tell me what it says?"
"Sure. Well, first of all that is a potty. I put the letter 'P' on it so you could tell. And those are hair clippies and bows. At the top is an arrow pointing down toward the potty. And that is a red line going diagonally across everything. That means no putting hair clippies or bows in the toilet. And that is meant for Grace."
"Right. Got it. No clippies or bows in the toilet. That's a good sign. I'll make sure that one stays up. Now scoot on back to the kitchen table and finish your breakfast."
What cracked me up most about that exchange is that "The Crumpler" made the sign about not clogging the toilet. I guess you could always dissolve toilet paper with some industrial strength Drano. Clippies and bows might be a bit trickier.
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