Char’s Blog

I was in the nursery at church during Sunday School. Normally, I am not there during that time but one of the helpers was gone so I was conscripted. I had to work on the Church’s bills and therefore wasn’t much help, per say, just another adult in the room. One has to be so careful these days. Sigh.

Anyway, I was busy working on things, trying to keep my papers from being stepped on and scattered about when I tuned into a conversation.

Pixie is addressing her future husband: “Please put the seat up when you go pee because if you don’t it gets wet and then I might sit in it.”

Oh my. The nagging begins.

Happy Birthday Pixie!

The Local Homeschool group is having a weekly sports time. Right now they are learning how to play soccer. This is for the older kids and The Boy just squeaks in. He has been enjoying it very much and it’s great for him to learn about various sports.

It’s at a local park and The Girls can play on the play structure with the other young children. Last week another Mom, Mrs. J, decided to take the younger ones- from about 5 up- and show them how to play too. Pixie decided she didn’t want to do that and played with the real young children. She likes to “mother” all the toddlers.

On the way home, Pixie asked-”Do the kids learning how to play soccer with Mrs. J have to wear the green thingys?”

Hmmm, green thingys? Oh yes, the green jerseys the kids on one team wear to distinguish the teams from each other.

No, the little kids don’t have to wear those.

“Oh, good! Then next week, I’ll go play with them!”

That’s my girl! Always got fashion on her mind.

A new boy has moved into our circle of friends.

Miss Sunshine calls him “My Friend”. She hardly ever uses his name.

“I want to sit by My Friend!” she proclaims at Sunday School.

“I am making this for My Friend.” she declares.

She is going to marry him.

The problem is that her sister also wants to marry him.

At least we are keeping it in the family.

Pixie calls him by his name and they are picking out houses together.

The Girls get into arguments about who is going to marry whom.

“I’m going to marry him!”

“No! I am going to marry him!”

Sigh.

I tell them that we’ll decide this in about 20 plus years. The longer the better.

The Brother, at dinner today, just to stir the pot, asked The Sisters if they loved this boy.

“I gave my heart in his heart.” Sunshine poetically proclaimed.

My heart sinks. What is a mother to do? I have been warned that he had a girl he was going to marry when he lived back East but now he has thrown her over because she is too far away.

I don’t know. A fickle, boy from the East. What could be worse??? What is a mother to do?

Well, we aren’t picking out wedding dresses yet but I’m keeping my eye on that boy.

I was asked a question in the comments on this post and I thought I’d answer it in a blog post since it was going to be a fairly long, drawn out affair. I am good at making short stories long.

The question was:

“I’m curious… when Pixie refuses to wear the clothes she has vowed to wear, do you return them knowing that she will never cave in, or do you hang them in the closet to be “stashed” until you pass them on to someone else? I have often wondered the fate of Pixie’s rejects.”

I don’t take them back usually because it’s been too long before I realize that she has “issues” with it, or I’ve washed it first, or it was bought at a store far, far away in a another galaxy. In the case of the jeans, I had washed them in an attempt to set color and keep them from fading as quickly. I bought two skort outfits at the beginning of the summer that she swore she would wear- she’s worn one once or twice and the other not at all. I hope her sister likes them- which is usually my back up plan. There is also the chance, which does happen- see below story about the jeans, that she will change her mind.

Pixie just gets strange ideas in her head about things. She doesn’t want to wear some shirts because they are too long and cover up the waist band of her pants/skirt. I don’t want her having short shirts and flashing her belly ring to the world. (Just seeing if you are awake.) She finally wore her new jeans on Saturday, which is a long, drawn out story in itself but I am sure you are tired of hearing all the angst, she wanted them rolled up even though they are a great length. I don’t know what it is with her and short things- preparing for the flood that is bound to come, I guess. I refused and she some how managed to get through the day and now declares that she likes her jeans and has worn them everyday since. Heavy, heavy sigh.

Anyway, what should I do with the things she will not wear? One suggestion was to make her buy the clothes with her own money and return on her own what she doesn’t want. She is only 5- would that be a good idea? She tends to be very visual and I know we will have to work with her about “wanting” everything and blowing her money on all things pink. So would putting her on a clothing budget at this age be a good idea? Also, I often go alone to the great Mart here in town and pick things out of season from the sales rack at great discounts- she’d have to be with me on those occasions to help pick and pay for those items. Although, one could argue that even if bought very cheap, if she will not wear it then it’s of no value. There is a beautiful pink polka dot dress hanging in the closet that is just such an example.

What other suggestions do you have? Give her two choices daily of what she can wear instead of letting her pick? I’m open to suggestions.

I am getting tired of the whining and upset about what she is going to wear. I’m also getting sick of seeing her in her favorite outfit.

Even if she is pretty cute.

I know that many of you thought this was a nice, clean, wholesome site, but my next item may call our family friendliness into question.

After a recent grueling day at the office, I was mentally exhausted, nursing a headache, and “hearing” unpleasant things from some rather tight muscles in my shoulders. My family and I had just enjoyed a delightful meal prepared by a particularly lovely and capable chef, who just coincidently happens to be the official webmistress of this web site.

Before pushing back from the table, KJ generously offered to rub my aching back. I thought this sounded like a splendid idea, and proceeded to remove my shirt and stretch my tired carcass out on the floor, belly down, eager to feel the tension oozing away from my body.

Pixie climbed on, and began “rubbing” my back and neck.

Somewhat.

Kinda.

If you use your imagination.

A bit.

Ok, the word “rubbing” might be a stretch. Poking might be more accurate. Actually, she doesn’t do half bad at massaging tired backs sometimes, but this wasn’t one of those times. She was distracted, preoccupied, or perhaps just feeling more like the otter she is.

I felt her arranging a silk ribbon around one of my ears, fluffing it all up “just so.” She paused for a moment, then said something that I really didn’t pay much attention to. I was trying not to fight my body’s desire to lose consciousness, despite the abundance of child noises surrounding me, the ribbon tickling my face, the “rubbing,” and everything else going on. I must say, sometimes I am quite successful in succumbing to a power nap even in the midst of a chaotic environment. So, I wasn’t processing whatever was being said; that might mean that I would have to actually utilize valuable mental resources to distinguish noise and random words from attempts to make genuine conversation.

But there it was again. She repeated herself, and I had no choice but to hear it this time, for the phrase contained my name. She was talking to her brother.

“Papa’s being X-rated!”

Huh? *click!* *whir!* I’m being… what? At this point I verbalized nothing, but my mind was trying to get a handle on what my ears had apparently heard.

I guess the boy wasn’t paying sufficient attention either, for I felt Pix cup her hands on my back, and say, “See? Papa’s being X-rated!”

I’m being what?

“X-rated. So we can see what’s wrong with your shoulder!”

Pause… Ahhh! You’re wanting to see the bones inside my body?

She nods and smiles.

I smile back. I had no idea how pornographic our family massage parlor really was.

I thought I would show you what my Mom looks like since she doesn’t post pictures of herself very often. See? She has long hair, mainly because she hasn’t gone to get it cut for a long, long time. Her nails are all grown out. I have nails, they need to be trimmed.

She wears dangley ear rings on her ears. See them? I want to be able to wear them too.

She has lots of teeth too.

The sun is shining! See all the letters I wrote?

Sorry about the foot being torn off- it was an accident.

Bye!

Pixie

P.S. Mom says I can’t show you the picture I drew of Papa. She used big words. Something about it being correct. Then comes the really big word- anatomically. I don’t know what that means.

Let’s all sing here-”One of these things doesn’t belong here, one of these things just doesn’t belong.” One of these children is not dressed appropriately; she made her own choices on what to wear.

Hint: it was 80 degrees.

This winter when there was snow on the ground Little Miss Pixie decided to wear skirts… everyday. When she went outside she would bundle up in her jacket, scarf, hat and gloves and then fight me tooth and nail to put on thin leggings or tights.

Now, when it’s warm, she is wearing jeans and long sleeve shirts. She has other choices in her closet. I bought some cute skort (skirt with shorts sewn in) outfits when she was along with me. She helped me pick them out- now they are not pink but she said she’d wear them. There was not any tan to be seen. One set has not adorned her body and the other was worn once. We picked out some cute sandals for her, she tried them on, she said they were fine and now it’s a fight to get her to wear them. She would rather wear too small, dirty old ones. The sandals are even white and PINK for goodness sakes!

Do you sense a bit of frustration in my typing? Ah well, I’ve told her I am not buying anything more for her because she tells me she will wear it and then doesn’t. That will last until this winter when she’ll need jeans that aren’t expecting a flood.

And to think- she’s only 5. What will the teenage years be like?

Lord help us.

We tend to weigh and measure the kids a lot. Why? They keep growing! And growing, and growing….

At the age of two, most children slow down in the growth department- not our crew. So I like to keep track of it all- I’m like that. Give me buttons to push and charts to keep and I am a happy camper.

So… because I know you all are dying of curiosity, here are the most current stats:

The Boy- 56 1/4″  (4′ 8 1/4″), 71 pounds. This puts him in over the 97th percentile in height. He is in the 90th percentile in weight.

Pixie- 46″ (3′ 10″) and 43 pounds. She is on the 90th percentile line for height and 50th for weight. And you wonder why I have troubles finding clothes that fit her!

Sunshine- 43″ (3′ 7″) and 41.4 pounds. She is in the 95th in height and 87th for weight.

I went back to the height predictor at WebMD to see if it said anything new. Since Sunshine was now 4, I wondered if it would change anything.

It assures me that The Boy will still be 6′5″.

Pixie will still be the shrimp of the children at 5′9″.

Sunshine is heading for 5′10″.

I will be the leaning post for all of them, I’m afraid.