Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Float Like A Butterfly...

A recent conversation reported by DD17:

C: I want to be a butterfly!
Dad: where would you fly if you were a butterfly?
C: I would fly into the street and attack people!!

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Time Well Spent

Dear Congregation,
You may have realized that I, the wife of the pastor, was quite late this morning. I would like the opportunity to explain.
Seventeen and a half years ago I gave birth to a delicate-framed little girl. She loved dresses and having her hair styled, and I hoped against hope that one day we could play dolls together. As feminine and sweet as she was, though, she was never bitten by the dolly bug. My hopes were packed away.
Nearly five years ago, I had the surprise of giving birth to another little girl. Far from being frilly, this one is the type of child you leave sleeping as long as possible each morning just so you can enjoy some semblance of sanity with your coffee. Her personality is all about jumping off of furniture and belching as often in a minute as she can.
This morning, after letting Cyclone Girl sleep as late as possible, I took out a sweet pink dress and began to wrestle her into it. It was at this point that she asked a game-changing question: "Can we dress my dolly? Because she shouldn't go to church in her pajamas!"
We selected the perfect outfit: a flowered spring-green jumper and red hiking boots. Given her inexperience, the clothes-changing operation took quite a bit longer than it should have.
I loved every second of it.
Why was I late to church this morning?
Because DOLLY CLOTHES!
Love,
The Wife of the Pastor

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Aging Well

H had a friend sleep over. It's one of the girls who helped with C when I broke my pe1vi$, so C considers her a special friend. As a result, C tends to over share.
"You know what?? I'm FOUR, but I wear a size FIVE! And you know what else? My mom is 85 and she wears a size 8!"
I look pretty good for my age!

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Opposites

We meet on the stairs: she's coming down while I go up. She reaches out for a hug, but as I embrace her, she wraps her arms and legs around me. She pushes her head into my hair and snuggles her cheek against mine. In her sweetest voice she says, "I'm wondering...why must I have such a MEAN momma?"

Saturday, May 10, 2014

A Little Ditty

Me:  You said you wouldn't do that, but you did it, anyway.
C:  I don't feel like being good today.
Me (sighing):  You're exhausting.
C (making up a new song):  I'm exhausting
Trosting
Rosting
Causing lots of trouble!

Dreaming of Being In Charge

C wakes up and immediately begins yelling.  "Stop it, J!!  That's MY job!!  You can't do that!  STOP!!!! You're doing MY job!"

Since I haven't seen hide nor hair of J yet today, I go upstairs.  Sure enough, J's fast asleep in his bed.  I enter C's room and sit on her bed.  "Honey, J's sleeping.  He's not doing your job.  You're having a dream!"

"No, I'M not having a dream.  J's having a dream.  He's dreaming that he's doing MY job!"

Friday, May 9, 2014

A Rainbow Of Truth

Momma, I love you! I love you SO much! And do you know why I love you, Momma? I love you because you have Skittles!!!

The Mail Must Go Through

A friend gave C the latest "toy" from McDonald's: pink Spiderman stationery. C pulled out a spider-covered post card and wrote "To G" on it. Then she slid it into an envelope (also covered in pink spiders) and wrote in very large, pink letters "To G". Then she asked me to mail it to Grandma.
I told her that there are millions of people called Grandma, so I'd have to write an address on it so the post office would know which Grandma to deliver it to.
C quickly took the envelope back and wrote some more. "There! Now it says MY Grandma!"