King of the Wild Frontier

Fed up with our teasing, Grayson moved out of the house last Saturday. He pitched a tent and staked his claim on the last bit of great American frontier (the backyard) with a pirate flag and a firm slamming shut of the zippers. His anger kept him company for the first 10-minutes, but his fury cooled and left him lonely and bored, so he came back in and packed some essentials for living off the land. Like a light saber, Beanie Babies, baseball cards, and a doll "for Lucie to play with when she comes to visit." All of this hunting and gathering generated an appetite, forcing another trip over enemy lines for the quintessential wilderness meal of peanut butter toast and bananas.

All in all, the mystical wilderness utopia lasted a full 55-minutes before the sprinklers came on and there was a soggy knock on the sliding glass door. "Mom, if I move back in can we go see the Indians at the natural history museum today?" Sure, my little Davy Crockett.

Comments

Lucie and the Problem of Evil

Lucie has suddenly started questioning things. And by things, I mean eternal things. It all started when she asked if I would read her a bedtime story from the Bible storybook. The book opens innocently enough with the story of creation. There are lions and tigers and bears, and naked people being created from dust. (At this point in the story you’d think questions would arise, but no, kids just seem to go along with it at face value. Which is exactly the reason I've had to work so hard to convince Lucie that turtleneck shirts are not actually made from the necks of turtles.) Anyways ... "Do you know why Adam and Eve are sad?" I asked, pointing at the picture of them sorrowfully leaving the garden. "I sure do, " Lucie assured me. "They are sad because they don't have any parents." Impressive, huh? Clearly, she’d been processing and following along. "Well there is that," I prodded her, "and also they have to leave the ...

Motherhood - Not for the faint of heart

My picture of hell: one soggy rainy day, two healthy energetic children, three solid days of DVDs, one dog that needs to pee but refuses to get wet, and me. Alone with the carnage and contracted to get 4 hours of work done. And just to frost the cake, Lucie can take off her pooy diaper now, which delights us all, but especially the dog, to no end. These days it is sort of a toss up for who has left the pile on the carpet. Lucie? Dog? The fact that it landed on top of a princess high heel is good indication the culprit was of the two-legged, shoe-loving, Oreo-eating variety, which makes it only slightly less disgusting to remove behind a 28-ply Kleenex. Pray for sunshine.

Say This!

Picture by Grayson (our 9 year-old) Last week we reached another one of those parenting milestones. At 27+ months of age, Violet said her first real words: "Mama! Me go!" Three little words so beautiful, so stunning and unexpected, they stopped me in my tracks. Even the other kids dropped their activities and ran out to verify that, yes, Violet had spoken. We hugged and touch-down-danced and, of course, Violet got to "go." When you have a child who is the tiniest bit developmentally delayed, small accomplishments are met with big celebration. Lucie insists on accompanying me on simple errands? I need to figure out a way to sneak out the door more efficiently; Violet suddenly says that she wants to go? Hot dog! Get the video camera and your shoes on kiddo! Therapists have been coming to the house since the first week of January, evaluating Violet's delays. At her last check in, she had about 15 simple words in her vocabulary -- about 100 words u...

Montecito Mama

Search This Blog