Sadly, the moment had passed by the time I got the camera ready. You can tell her smile is more forced now, but her original regal countenance was almost too much!

In other news, I said something yesterday about one of the girls hording something–toy princesses most likely. Ever interested in expanding her vocabulary, today my eldest complained that the youngest was “whoring the markers.”

Lost for words.

And finally, the youngest amused herself today by playing dress-up with Mommy’s undergarments. Silk nighties, underwear, slips, socks piled over nylons, and multiple bras adorned her small, three-year-old frame. I would have taken a picture, but it’s not appropriate to post images of my bloomers and braziers. That might ruin this blog’s G status. And that would just be whorible.

Post Honey Bunches of Oats with Pecan Bunches (Photo credit: theimpulsivebuy)

We have cold cereal for breakfast almost every morning. The names of the different brands of cereal have gotten lost in toddler translation. One of our three-year-old’s favorites is “Honey Bunches of Oats”, but when we ask her what she’d like to eat she says: “Honey Jumps on The Boat.”

Sarah, mother of 5

Also, I’m not generally very good at the award thing, but now that a few have stacked up, it’s time.

I received the Very Inspiring Blogger Award from makingitthroughmonday, who, it appears, has since deleted her blog. Talk about irony! I hope my lapse in acknowledging her award isn’t what caused her to give it up on Sunday.

I also got the Liebster award from supermom2spiderman and the Best Moment Award from tazeinmirzasaad (I have no idea how to pronounce that either).

So, I guess I’m supposed to tell you some stuff about me now.

1.My favorite color is blue, because, frankly, it’s the best color and anyone who thinks otherwise is only kidding themselves.

2.I drink tea more than coffee because I’m lazy, and throwing a mug of water with a tea bag in the microwave seems quicker and easier to me then brewing a pot of coffee. (Yes, I have heard of a Keurig, smarty-pants, but I don’t HAVE a Keurig.) But if you were to offer me coffee, I’d gladly accept.

3. Homeschooling my children has brought out the incredible impatience in me.

4. I am reading David Eddings’ Belgariad and Mallorean series for the third time. And I proudly got my husband started on them. He can barely put them down. Yep, they’re that good, if you’re into Lord of the Rings-esque fantasy.

5. I probably enjoy action movies more than I do chic flicks. Nope. Not probably. I actually do.

6. I think Chef Gordon Ramsey is awesome.

7. I like Shakira and Usher are better coaches on The Voice than Christina Aguilera and Cee Lo Green were.

8. I’m glad that I mentioned that I read since the last three involved movies or television. See, I AM well-rounded folks.

9. I have a book coming out in October called “101 Tips for a Happier Marriage.” If I were any good at marketing, I would have listed that first. But don’t worry, when it’s out for real, I’ll be plugging the tar out of it.

10. Am I supposed to come up with 10? I really should have read the rules on these things. Maybe I could have stopped at 7! Dang.

And now I’m going to nominate some people. How many, who knows? But these are my most faithful followers, so I’m totally playing favorites here. And if I don’t mention you, it’s just because I’m lazy and got tired of typing.

free penny press

carrie rubin

lexiesnana

memyselfandkids

And, in honorium (is that word? It’s got a fuzzy red line under it. You know what I mean, though, right?), bellybuttonblues, who was my first blog friend, but is no longer with us. No, she didn’t die, she just deleted her blog to pursue other things. Her departure is still keenly felt.

Go visit those other blogs, though. They’re cool people. And don’t forget to check out my mom’s book. It’s a good read.

-PIF

This especially came in handy (for my husband) at church Sunday when one child announced, never quietly, that she needed to pee. Of course, we always make them go before we leave home, but as she is relatively new to the potty trained world, I wasn’t taking my chances on her sincerity,  ploy to avoid some pew time or not.

When we left the bathroom, she swiftly yanked her arm away from me so she could run to the back of the church, make a U-turn around the end of the row of pews, and stream back down the center aisle to our seats near the front. Awesome.

And of course, I had barely gotten back to my place when my next oldest announced she needed to go too. I was able to tell her to wait with some confidence in her bladder control until everyone was at least standing. This was, of course, to hide myself better as I walked out yet again in front of those people who were undoubtedly thinking, “She should have just asked them both if they needed to go at the same time. This is so disruptive!”

When I walked back into the bathroom with Child #2, I gave a look of “here I am again!” to the woman sitting on the couch in the bathroom. (Yes, men, women’s bathrooms sometimes have couches. Usually there’s a nursing mom sitting on it.) But this mom wasn’t nursing. She was keeping an eye on her toddler boy who was playing in the bathroom, running in and out of the stalls. I made a mental note of his face so as to be sure not to shake his hand at the Sign of Peace should he emerge from the bathroom by then.

I told my daughter, once we emerged from the facilities, that we would walk back to our seat via the front of the church instead of running around the back, like her younger sister had done. She complied, and, fortunately, we made it  back to our seats just before everyone sat back down. Awesome. (In a non-sarcastic way this time.)

Then the youngest, who is now three, by the way (Terrible Twos have nothing on Age Three in my book) was lifting and flopping her skirt around as her newest form of entertainment. Her older sister, trying to be helpful, pointed suddenly and yelled, “Underwear!”

Apparently affronted by this, the three-year-old stood up, lifted her skirt high, revealing more clearly her pink flowered bloomers, and commanded angrily: “Don’t see my underwear!”

Then my husband got a turn. He decided it was time to pick her up. Sensing this was a ruse, she furrowed her brow and said, “I don’t like you, Daddy,” and gave his cheek a little smack. That’s when he took her outside.

We should have been wearing our matching “#1 Parent” t-shirts.

Okay, parents, let’s hear your best (and by that of course, I mean, worst) stories of your kids’ misbehavior in public. Please. To make me feel better.

St. Peter’s Basilica at Early Morning (Photo credit: Wikipedia) P.S. This wasn’t the church I was at!

When my youngest was born, she made her first church appearance just a few days later. Being understandably tired, we didn’t make it to our usual Mass, but went to an 11:00 a.m. at a church I’m not as familiar with. The baby slept wonderfully through Mass until just before the end. When she began to cry, I picked her up and looked around for a private hidey-hole in which to discreetly feed her. Then I spotted a folding  chair in a dark corner, far from any people. Perfect!

A minute later, Mass was over and I soon discovered a crucial architectural structure that I had previously overlooked:I was sitting next to an exit door.

A flood of people came streaming past me. I wasn’t sure whether I should look down and hide my face, or look up and around as though everything was perfectly fine. Since I couldn’t make up my mind, I alternated back and forth.

When the line of people leaving got toward the end, I was looking up, just in time to see the father of one of my husband’s students. He nodded toward me, and said, “How’s it going?” I smiled awkwardly, blushing, and nodded a hello.

In the future I intend to get blueprints in advance of attending any new church.

princess (Photo credit: hudsonthego)

One of my students enlisted me one recess to be her “scribe.” “Sit down, and write what I say.” I pretended to pull out a scroll, as the girl gazed off in the distance, pondering the correct wording for the message to her mother. Obviously having been enlightened, she turned to me, pointed a finger at the pretend scroll, motioning for me to write, and said, “Dear Mother,” she began, “Her royal highness would like to invite you to a girls’ tea…”

Princess bed (Photo credit: esc.ape(d))

“Mom, kids run faster than grown ups,” my five-year-old daughter announced to me.

“I don’t think that’s true,” I replied.

“It is true because at bed time, I tell Daddy, ‘Whoever gets to my room first gets to get in my bed,’ and I always win.”

I’ll take the stripey ones on bottom, if you don’t mind.

My daughter was helping me shop for a wedding present. The bride had registered at Kohl’s and I had a copy of her registry. I decided to buy a sheet set. When we got to the linen section, I handed the list to my daughter.

“Just read off the first few letters of the merchandise number,” I told her, “so I can find the right sheets.” I started down the sheet aisle. Behind me my daughter called out in a clear, loud voice, over and over, “F U, F U.”

Flo, mother of 3

In the bathtub tonight this same daughter was playing with a toy horse and had this to say about it: “This horse’s name is Rainbow. People don’t ride it, though, because it leaves a rainbow trail that they don’t want to clean up.”

She has another horse that she instructed her two-year-old sister to call  Beauty of the Wind (said with a deep, solemn sigh). Then she told her to “Repeat after me… Beauty…”

“Beauty.”

“of the…”

“of the…”

“Wind.”

“Wind.”

“That’s right.”

I’m glad she’s teaching her the important things. That makes my job easier.

Say it with me: “Beauty of the Wind.” “That’s right.”