Tuesday, September 9, 2008

kids say the darndest things...

i was getting ready to tuck the kids in bed after a diastrous evening and... wait... this evening. oh, this evening could/should/would be another blog in and of itself if i weren't so utterly exhausted. the preface of the evening is that chris' men's small group at church decided to move their weekly gathering for the fall schedule to tuesday evenings, thus singlehandedly jacking up the entire tuesday night schedule which was already severely overbooked with chloe's ballet class from 5:30 to 6:15, overlapping my weight watcher's meeting that begins at 6. on this particular evening - add the following: 280 traffic. pouring down rain. one ginormous explosion of pOOp ... at McDonalds... (yes, the worst mcds on the face of the planet) with NO extra pull-ups and two sticky kids covered in ice cream. and poop. did i mention the poop? i've already missed weight watchers at the point where i am rushing them home only to find that our air is out. o.u.t. STEFFI! (iwiwd) you know i cannot even breathe if it's above seventy two degrees in my house. - sigh - throes of mommyhood, tonight. i tell you. this is one of those moments. you know, not the ones you want to live in, per se. just the ones you want to live through. no kodak moments here tonight.

enough about that. as i was saying. i was tucking the kids in - or about to - when, before i even finished the sentence, "okay kids it's time for..." i could see parker already taking off, breaking into a sprint. only not for bed. for a place to hide. this is his new thing. whenever it's time to do anything: take a bath, get in the car, come to the table, go to bed... he runs and hides, laughing like a hyena the whole time. i remember the preschool logic - out of sight. out of mind. you know, like the day i hid from my mom before preschool, really truly believing that if she never found me, she'd eventually just give up and go on with her day as usual. "Parker! that is disobeying!" chloe is standing in the hallway watching all this action go down and she looks at me, knowingly, and says (as if she's appalled), "the nerve of some people". i was running after Parker as she said it. i stopped. turned around. "what did you say?"... she grinned, "the nerve of some people" she says again, dryly. "who did you hear that from?", i asked. "sponge bob", she declares, as if he is supremely wise. a proverbial dalai llama of four year olds. "the same sponge bob you're not allowed to watch?"... apparently he's the sponge bob she's not allowed to watch in mommy's presence. just like that, truth comes out. :)

and speaking of sponges, the last time we took Parker to the doctor for his check-up, chloe and i had the following conversation in the car: [pulling into the parking deck at the hospital]

c: mommy, did you remember your check card?
m: yes. do you know what a check card is for?
c: yes, to pay for things.
m: but where does the money come from?
c: the bank
m: but how does the money get into the bank?
c: mommy and daddy put it there
m: that's right. but where does the money come from that we put in the bank?
c: um... >thinking hard<> is nodding in agreement, seemingly studiously listening] ...and that's how it works.
c: but mommy...
m: yes?
c: where do sponges come from?

clearly, i'm getting through. :)

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