Clothes Minded

Mornings are a battle at our house. "Eat your breakfast." "Drink your milk." "No you cannot have candy for breakfast."

Because I like to lay in bed until the last possible second, I have one hour to feed myself and two children. In that hour I must also make sure that they and myself are dressed. I almost wrote "dressed properly" but that is not the case. Maybe dressed for the weather? That is closer to the truth.

Of course I'm the easiest to get dressed. I grab a sweater and jeans. Usually off of the floor but that's okay because they are clean. Okay cleanish.

Bunny is 5 so you think she could handle getting herself dressed. That is not the case. If left to her own devices, I would find her playing with her toys without having picked any clothes out. So I have to "help" her.

"Skirt or dress" I ask her when we get into her room. Because clearly pants are out of the question. "Leggings or tights" is the next question. Once she chooses we can get the ball rolling. She then picks between the options in her drawer or closet and the clothes are laid on her bed.

You would think I could then leave her to get ready on her own. Um no. "Momma! Momma!" "What sweetie?" "I want you to keep me company." I return to her room to find her still in her pajamas. So I have to sit with her to make sure she gets dressed properly. And I usually have to help her a long.

Lion in a way is easier to get dressed. No he's not. He is two nothing is easy with him at all. He insists on picking out his clothes himself. He also insists on putting his clothes on BY HIMSELF. If you try to assist him in any way, he will throw himself on the floor and cry. But you also can't get up to do something else. You have to sit next to him and watch. All so you can see him throw his hands up in the air and say "Ta da" when he is finished.

The real problem with Lion lies in his clothes choice. He has definite opinions on what he wants to wear. The shirt must have dinosaurs. If it doesn't then it must have a car, truck or other vehicle. The pants must not match the shirt in any way. Track pants are worn with a train sweater and polo shirt. Tan corduroys are worn with a mismatched t-shirt, long sleeved shirt combo.

Next is the footwear and outerwear choice. Boots are his first choice. Snow boots are preferable but if they have been hidden by his mother, then rain boots are it. Or maybe hiking boots but not usually. His yellow rain slicker is the coolest coat he has ever seen. He demands to wear it always. However if his mother is mean and says he must wear a warmer jacket he will not be happy about it. All of this is topped off with his sister's white hat with pink snowflakes or a red knit hat about 2 sizes two big.




The effect is homeless fisherman, don't you think?

Who Taught You How To Drive?

Bunny is bossy.

Bunny is opinionated.

Bunny is a back seat driver.

When she was little, I would narrate everything I did, especially while driving. "Mommy is stopping at the stop sign. We always stop at the stop sign."

As she got older and started to go on walks to the park and around the neighborhood, we explained the rules of the road. Stop signs mean stop. Red lights mean stop. When the light turns green the cars can go. And so on.

Bunny thought it was pretty cool. She loved to point out the stop signs in the neighborhood. She loved watching the lights turn colors, from green to yellow to red and back to green.

But then, as children are often wont to do, she flipped it all around on me. Now when we get in the car, I have to follow the rules of the road closely or she's on me like a hawk.

"Momma, you have to stop at the stop sign."

"Momma, the light is red, stop now."

"Momma, the light is green, why aren't you driving."

"Momma, you are going to fast."

"Momma, you are going to slow."

"Momma, are you sure this is the way to Ama's house. This doesn't look like the way. Are we lost?"

"Momma, are you sure you don't want me to drive? I think I can drive better than you."

Okay maybe she didn't say the last one, but it sure feels like it. And only 12 more years before I can nag her about the way she drives.

The Littlest Trainer

In my quest to lose a few pounds, I've actually started working out. Right now the weather is a bit to cold to exercise outside a lot (well you could but I'm a whimp and I don't like it cold). And Bunny really doesn't dig the gym daycare, in fact she hates it. So I've been doing exercise videos.

I (along with a millionty other bloggers) have started the 30 Day Shred with Jillian from the Biggest Loser. I love that show. It always made me feel better about myself, even if I was drinking a glass of wine or eating a brownie while watching it. I figure if I were ever on the show, I would want Jillian as my trainer. She's crazy when it comes to work outs. Bob, on the other hand, is nice and everyone loves him. But I would rather have a trainer I hate who is willing to kick or beat my ass in the gym until it falls off or shrinks in size. So Jillian it is.

I used to "do" workout videos before but I would always try to squeeze them in at nap time. But with the potential for no nap or the need to clean or sleep during nap time, I never really got anything done. So this time around I decided to do them in the morning with Bunny around.

I try to occupy her with paints, crayons or toys. Most of the time it works but sometimes she likes to sit and watch me exercise. But today, she decided to join in. When it was time to lift weights, she grabbed one of her cardboard blocks and mirrored my movements. During cardio she hopped around flailing her arms in what I am sure was a spot on impersonation of me. She even joined me in doing squat thrusts (which by the way are a form of torture that I thought I'd left behind in gym class, holy crow they suck). During ab work she literally tried to push me off the mat because it was her turn. "I want the green mat momma, its comfy."

She of course thought the whole exercise things was utterly hilarious. Me? I was panting and wheezing (today was my second day on level two which is much harder). If I wanted to take a break she would say "Don't rest momma, its not so bad." Maybe not for you and your cute three year old tushie but for me and my 39 year old butt its hard as heck.

But its a good thing. I've got Jillian yelling from the TV and Bunny pushing me from the sidelines, with trainers like that you can't go wrong.

Is This What A Mother of a Teenager Feels Like?

Today, Bunny's cousin A "called" to see what Bunny would like for her upcoming birthday (the answer - a pony). Well actually her mother called but A and Bunny spoke on the phone for 10 minutes.

That is if you can say that a three year old and an almost three year old can have a conversation. It went something like this:

Bunny: Hi
A: Hi
Bunny: Hi A
A: What you doing?
Bunny: Playing with water dinos (puts phone down runs to get one of the dinos) See.
A: Hi
Bunny: Hi
A: I play with make up.
Bunny: What make up?
A: Bubblegum
Bunny: What?
A: You come sleep over.
Bunny: Yeah.
A: You can sleep in my bed.
Bunny: Hi
A: unintelligible
Bunny: Hi
A: Stop saying hi
Bunny: Hi
A: What?
Bunny: (puts phone on mute) Where A
A: Bunny you hang up?
Bunny: Hi
A: (hangs up phone)
Bunny: Hi

Definintion

decheese
dee - cheez
verb

To remove cheese from a person or object. (After Bunny fed baby T-Rex a snack, mommy had to decheese him.)

Family Fun with Cleaning

I've said it before that I really don't like cleaning. I can find a million and one other things to do instead of cleaning. I do it but I'm not happy about it at all.

But there are times that cleaning is a necessity. Over the weekend I rearranged the furniture in the living room to make room for the Christmas tree. As we are still without a functional basement (its only been 8 months) we had a lot of stuff to move. Well moving created dust and exposed areas that had previously been covered. So it was time to bust out the supplies.

I grabbed the swiffer first to sweep up some of the dust. Bunny freaked out. "I wanna do it momma. I can do it all by myself, momma."

Hmmm. Perhaps she can. It would shorten the cleaning time and it would also occupy her for a while. So we tried it. And you know what? She is pretty good at it. She got most of the spots I was going for freeing me up to vacuum.

I wonder if I put the wet swiffer on if she could wash the floors for me? The answer is yes she can. Pretty sweet.

So I got a fairly clean living room out of the deal and Bunny had loads of fun. We may be on to something here. Do you thing she is too young to . . . ?