That’s my girl.

Middle Daughter is in 4th grade. A recent math assignment asked her to draw certain dots and make an observation about the pattern. Here’s the answer key:

4. (a) shows the pattern; (d) shows “Possible observations” that can be made: “Each group of dots can be divided into a square and a right triangle; the difference between the total number of dots in each pair of terms increases as the pattern continues.”

Here’s my daughter’s answer sheet:

Lost in translation

When my girls saw a Chick-fil-A  mascot on a street corner, they immediately and wordlessly, rolled down their windows and began mooing at it.

My husband said, “What are you doing?”

They said, “We’re talking to the cow!”

Why my daughter is a weirdo

When she was upset and crying, (I forget about what. It was minor.) she tearfully asked, “Do we have any [sniff] tomatoes?”

Tomatoes? The kid wanted tomatoes to calm herself down! Not a hug from Mommy, not her teddy bear or blanket, not even a bar of chocolate or some ice cream like any normal female.

She wanted tomatoes.

My husband picked four tiny red ones from our plant outside. She was instantly consoled. I wish it were that easy for me.

Then, as if that weren’t weird enough, she put the tomatoes in her milk cup and drank/ate them. Like I said, weirdo. Of course, this is also the child who enjoys drinking grape juice and milk. In the same cup.

She also asserts frequently and with great confidence that the last day of this coming summer will be the best day of her life because then she gets to start Kindergarten the next day. Let’s see how long her enjoyment of school lasts, shall we?

And then there’s my second daughter

A macro photo of a cluster of sweet pea flowers. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I recently shared a cute story about my oldest here (and probably in multiple other posts on this blog), but last night my second child, the five-year-old, did a couple of things worth sharing. The first is cute. The second is, well, see for yourself.

After tucking L. into her bed last night, I bid my final farewell from the doorway. “Good night, Sweet Pea,” I said.

“Mom, what’s your favorite kind of fruit,” she suddenly asked me.

“Uuum… Probably strawberries,” I responded, somewhat puzzled.

Just too cute not to share

My seven-year-old opened an educational magazine to an article about the life cycle of a butterfly. She then placed a stuffed caterpillar on the page in such a way that it looked like it was reading. She said to me, “Look, mom.