Snowman Nose

Today I nominated Kyle to play in the snow with the kids on the premise that I did it last time. A while after they went out, Ruby knocked on the door and asked for carrots for a snowman nose. I gave her two carrots in case there was more than one snowman and sent her on her way.

When she came back inside after her snowman was done, she announced “I ate one carrot.” Kyle clarified that she ate it on her way back out to the snowman. It’s a good thing I gave her two or she would have come back for more.

Sneaky Sneaker

Kyle goes to great lengths to make sure the children both have their arms folded for the dinnertime prayer. They always have their arms folded…at least at the beginning of the prayer.

Tonight Kyle got the kids to fold their arms, and started the prayer. I heard Sherman move, so I looked at him. Sherman managed to unfold his arms, spear a piece of ham off his plate, put it in his mouth, put the fork back down, and re-fold his arms before Kyle had finished offering the (very brief) prayer.

Eh, folding arms for prayer. It’s in the works.

The Glove is On, The Gauntlet is Thrown

Sherman wanders over to the drawer where I keep my hot pads and oven mitts. This is not irregular, I frequently have to search my house for hot pads while I’m in the middle of dinner and discover my drawer is empty. He pulls out the oven mitt, and heads straight for the (cold) oven to open it up. The oven is still taller than he is, so he reaches above his head to grab the handle in his awkward over-sized mitted hand, and just about falls over opening it up.

It’s the grandest adventure of the day.

Three year old Ruby runs around the house, buck naked (despite being dressed multiple times today), waving a lightsaber and calling us all bad guys. I ask if she’s Rey, fighting off the Sith.

“No. I’m Dark Vader.”

“So we’re Jedi?”

“No, you’re bad guys.”

Kyle looks over and says, “From my perspective the Jedi are evil!”

She runs off, and zooms back a few minutes later with Sherman hot on her tail.


Chances of Defenestration are High Today

We live on the third floor. We have a lovely view of the apartment across from us our of a large picture window in our front room. It lets in natural light (although due to the direction it faces we don’t get very much direct sunlight, but it’s still a nice window). It has nice, wide, fancy looking blinds on it. The kids like to sit in the window sill and look at the world, especially if there are dogs outside.

When I picture hanging my children from this lovely window by their toes I know it’s time to get some alone time.

Some days my standards of “Good Parent” looks a lot like “I’ve never actually tossed one of my children out of our lovely front window.”

Our kids have slept poorly the last few days, and have been very cranky.

I’m a good parent.

I’m a good parent.

I’m a good parent.

(Number of children removed from house via window since move-in: Still 0)

Ruby at Dinner

Tonight at Dinner Ruby was trying to convince me she could eat chocolate for dinner. I told her she could have some after dinner. She told me she was done with dinner, and I responded that she hadn’t “even touched it yet.”

Ruby looked at me, then carefully poked her dinner with her finger. “I touched it.”

“No, you have to eat dinner until your tummy is full.”

Ruby then looked at her stomach, and proceeded to look at us with this wide eyed expression that said “I have no idea what you’re trying to say to me.”

I told her she had to eat dinner, so she picked up a single piece of pasta, ate it, and announced, “I ate one dinner.”