One day, Levi decided to put his improved writing skills to use by writing notes for all sorts of things. He came out of the schoolroom, slapped a note on the table, and continued on into the bathroom. The note read: I have to go pote.
Not twenty minutes later, he burst out of the schoolroom again, this time approaching Caelin, and slapped a good hearty crack on his behind. As Caelin jumped and howled, Levi calmly handed him a note reading: Did that hirt?
Not to be outdone, I gave him a note that read: Did you finish your math? When he realized what it said, he looked very surprised!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Waking with Aila
From the depths of my sleep, I slowly drifted into lighter patterns. Gradually became conscious of movement beside me. A tugging, a wiggling. Then a plaintive whine, "Uh, huh." Aila has awakened and is thinking a nursey would be just the thing. I open my sticky eyes. The first shades of dawn are filtering through the curtains. The clock glows 6:30. A urgent need to go to the bathroom comes over me. "Alright." I murmur. "Just a minute. Mama will be right back." I hurry to do my business and stop at the beds of my other 3 dreaming chickadees to make sure they are tucked in, cozy and warm.
Back in our bed, Aila is fussing at my delay. I jump in quickly to the warmth of the covers. She is quieted and cuddles down expectantly. She latches on in satisfaction. The wiggling commences. Her hand pats, rubs. She tucks her feet in between my legs, a habit that at best is mildly annoying, but with a sharp toenail becomes intolerable. The toenail is quite scratchy today, like a small barb. I try to move her legs away, but she is persistent. For a moment I think how big, yet small she is. Recall that Levi and Tirzah both weaned at her age. Gradually sleep overtakes her and she settles down. I back away in one swift motion, readjusting myself and moments later am asleep again. Not deep sleep, for the small movements of a small girl dreaming beside me prevent it, but dozing, drifting, for what seems like 10? 20? 30? minutes.
The wiggling pulls me from my blissful unconscious state again. I groan inwardly. It's Saturday. Doesn't she know it's the day we are supposed to sleep in? Perhaps if I lie very still, she will go back to sleep. This actually works sometimes. But not today. Full daylight streams in the curtains. I half-open one eye. She is staring at me; reaches out and pokes my one shut eye and giggles. I push her hand away. She crawls over to my left side and I expect another request to nurse. But no, she just lies down on my arm and cuddles.
I feign sleep a while longer, but finally open both eyes. She is still staring full in my face and her face breaks out in an intense squinty grin. I chuckle. Who can be grumpy with this? So we loll around, her flopping and resting, patting and snuggling. Me soaking it up. Noticing her soft, sweet, dimpled hands caressing, then poking. Enjoying her goofy faces: smiles, squinting, squeezing, pulling her mouth out by the corners, laughing. Wishing she would always stay this way, and we could go on snuggling forever.
From the floor, the cat meows. Aila sits up quickly calling, "Kitty!" Footsteps go down the stairs, then a click, click, click, click. "Doggy!" she announces. "Is that the doggy?" I whisper. She flops down again, with a beseeching "Uh huh." The wake-up nursey. Why not? So we settle for a few more minutes, delaying the inevitable. Her dark, round eyes looking up in trust, her small white hands tapping, patting, probing, pulling. I ponder the moment, think of the day's events. Considering the fact that Aila will be 2 in just 2 months and won't wake up beside me much longer, I realize that this is a forever moment. But my memory is so poor. Like a sieve, these precious times slip through and fade into a pleasant blur. Realize that when children are small, we feel pressured for time and energy. Taking time to breathe and give thanks and enjoy them can be a discipline. But not now. This is unhurried bliss.
She takes her time, then releases and pulls back in a deliberate way. "Are you done?" I ask. She gives me another squinty-eyed grin. Goofball. She gets up, and plunges headlong over my legs, sliding down over the end of the bed into the promise of a new day.
Back in our bed, Aila is fussing at my delay. I jump in quickly to the warmth of the covers. She is quieted and cuddles down expectantly. She latches on in satisfaction. The wiggling commences. Her hand pats, rubs. She tucks her feet in between my legs, a habit that at best is mildly annoying, but with a sharp toenail becomes intolerable. The toenail is quite scratchy today, like a small barb. I try to move her legs away, but she is persistent. For a moment I think how big, yet small she is. Recall that Levi and Tirzah both weaned at her age. Gradually sleep overtakes her and she settles down. I back away in one swift motion, readjusting myself and moments later am asleep again. Not deep sleep, for the small movements of a small girl dreaming beside me prevent it, but dozing, drifting, for what seems like 10? 20? 30? minutes.
The wiggling pulls me from my blissful unconscious state again. I groan inwardly. It's Saturday. Doesn't she know it's the day we are supposed to sleep in? Perhaps if I lie very still, she will go back to sleep. This actually works sometimes. But not today. Full daylight streams in the curtains. I half-open one eye. She is staring at me; reaches out and pokes my one shut eye and giggles. I push her hand away. She crawls over to my left side and I expect another request to nurse. But no, she just lies down on my arm and cuddles.
I feign sleep a while longer, but finally open both eyes. She is still staring full in my face and her face breaks out in an intense squinty grin. I chuckle. Who can be grumpy with this? So we loll around, her flopping and resting, patting and snuggling. Me soaking it up. Noticing her soft, sweet, dimpled hands caressing, then poking. Enjoying her goofy faces: smiles, squinting, squeezing, pulling her mouth out by the corners, laughing. Wishing she would always stay this way, and we could go on snuggling forever.
From the floor, the cat meows. Aila sits up quickly calling, "Kitty!" Footsteps go down the stairs, then a click, click, click, click. "Doggy!" she announces. "Is that the doggy?" I whisper. She flops down again, with a beseeching "Uh huh." The wake-up nursey. Why not? So we settle for a few more minutes, delaying the inevitable. Her dark, round eyes looking up in trust, her small white hands tapping, patting, probing, pulling. I ponder the moment, think of the day's events. Considering the fact that Aila will be 2 in just 2 months and won't wake up beside me much longer, I realize that this is a forever moment. But my memory is so poor. Like a sieve, these precious times slip through and fade into a pleasant blur. Realize that when children are small, we feel pressured for time and energy. Taking time to breathe and give thanks and enjoy them can be a discipline. But not now. This is unhurried bliss.
She takes her time, then releases and pulls back in a deliberate way. "Are you done?" I ask. She gives me another squinty-eyed grin. Goofball. She gets up, and plunges headlong over my legs, sliding down over the end of the bed into the promise of a new day.
Friday, February 8, 2013
What's Levi thinking?
As I woke the boys this morning, I was giving Caelin an idea of what was on the agenda for the day. Levi slowly rolled over and groggily said, "I love you Mama." He paused, then continued, "What do they mean when they say, 'spit tobacco juice'?" I could only chuckle, wondering where that came from, but I did explain. :-)
While working in the kitchen this afternoon, I glanced up to see Levi in the bathroom, pants at his ankles, poking around in the toilet with the toilet brush. I quickly went and asked what he was doing. "Nothing." he replied. Hmm. I have never needed a toilet brush to do nothing. "Well, you were doing something." I insisted. He placed the brush back in its holder, looking up at me a bit ambarrassed. I look inquiringly into the pot. Nothing but a bit of T.P. There was a odor about, so I asked if he had pooped. He was rather unclear.
"Tell me what you were doing." I ordered. He reluctantly answered, "Well, I heard it hit the water, but now I can't see it." He was taken back when I burst out laughing. Another victim of ghost poopy. HAHA
Enough about Levi. Aila is a real character these days herself. She likes to go in the bathroom drawer, get a stick of deodorant, and professionally reaches down the collar of her shirt, applying it to each armpit in turn.
After Aila's bath this evening, I noticed a weird pimple on her temple. I squeezed and it popped. Poor Aila yelled, "Kitty did dat!" She apparently has been scratched enough to associate pain with the cat. Oh dear. Maybe she'll learn to let sleeping cat lie.
While working in the kitchen this afternoon, I glanced up to see Levi in the bathroom, pants at his ankles, poking around in the toilet with the toilet brush. I quickly went and asked what he was doing. "Nothing." he replied. Hmm. I have never needed a toilet brush to do nothing. "Well, you were doing something." I insisted. He placed the brush back in its holder, looking up at me a bit ambarrassed. I look inquiringly into the pot. Nothing but a bit of T.P. There was a odor about, so I asked if he had pooped. He was rather unclear.
"Tell me what you were doing." I ordered. He reluctantly answered, "Well, I heard it hit the water, but now I can't see it." He was taken back when I burst out laughing. Another victim of ghost poopy. HAHA
Enough about Levi. Aila is a real character these days herself. She likes to go in the bathroom drawer, get a stick of deodorant, and professionally reaches down the collar of her shirt, applying it to each armpit in turn.
After Aila's bath this evening, I noticed a weird pimple on her temple. I squeezed and it popped. Poor Aila yelled, "Kitty did dat!" She apparently has been scratched enough to associate pain with the cat. Oh dear. Maybe she'll learn to let sleeping cat lie.
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