Silas (3): "What's that?"
Me: My chocolate pudding... want some?"
Si: "No thanks... I have dirt in my mouth."
Me: "You have dirt in your mouth?"
Me: " Well go drink some water."
Si: "OK." -Dec. 5
Silas got a little physical when he was mad about the fact that I turned off the Netflix after only one episode.
Me: "No, son. Remember: You never hit a girl."
Si: "But I'm a little bit mean."
Me: "No, you're not. You are not going to be a mean man, and you're not a mean little boy."
Si: "OK. But I have to push play a little bit." -Dec. 5
Sparrow, age 7: "Why do they call them Israelians?" -Dec. 12
let 3-y-o Silas lie down in our bed to fall asleep tonight. When I went
to go sit with him and pray for him, he scooted over and said, "I maked
room for ya." Squeeee! No words for that kind of love! -Dec. 12
Me: "Don't run in the parking lot!"
Si: "I'm not! I'm going slowler!" -Dec. 13
Sp: "If I were you, the only part I would like about eating healthy would be the whipped cream."
Me: "Well the cream I get is not even that healthy. I am still allowed
to eat some though, because unless you eat it with a bunch of sugar, it
won't make you blubbery."
Sp: "Well, I think being blubbery would keep you warm." -Dec. 16
version of the wait until Christmas— the interval kept shrinking at a
rate much faster than real time. It was December 20th.
Sparrow: "I can't believe it's three days until Christmas!"
Me: "Three FULL days," I said, "until Christmas EVE."
She quickly agreed.
20 minutes later, it was, excitedly, "Two more DAYS, tomorrow!"
LOL. At the END of tomorrow... Ah, the magical wait of childhood. -Dec. 20
Not only was she up before everyone else, banging pot lids onto pots
with vigor to match a marching band, but then she came and sat on my bed
where I was still asleep (or had dozed off again after the
lid-bangings), and she woke me with the repeated insistent word, "Ide?
Ide? Ide? Ide?" When I cracked my eyes open, I saw she was pointing
toward the window. "you wanna go outside?" I croaked. "Yah." "Well you
can't go outside without pants," I said. Immediately, she slid off the
bed, ran across the room to her crib, used ALL her strength to pull the
drawer open just a crack, and pulled out the first piece of clothing she
could wedge out of there. She ran back with it triumphantly. "That's
not pants, that's a shirt!" I said. She said, "Oh," slid off the bed
again, ran back to the drawer, stuffed the shirt inside, and then found a
pair of jeans, which she pulled out with the utmost difficulty.
"Godit!" She cried as she ran back to me. So I helped her put them on.
"Now you're gonna need shoes," I said. She ran out of the room and
eventually came back with her brown boots. "Oos," she said, and threw
them on the bed, where one of them clocked me right in the face." "Ow!
That hurt, Pippa!" "awee," she said in her sing-song, and
sympathetically rubbed my arm. 20 months old! That girl is going
places! -Dec. 21
Me: "How many cookies did you eat?"
Si: "Eleventeen." -Dec. 22
Si: "I wish I could be in an ambulance when I get hurt with my face." -Dec. 22
making me smile right now? 20-month-old Pippa, running through my
kitchen with no shirt on, wearing a skirt, one rain boot, and a mullet,
with her hands and mouth full of prunes. That's what. -Dec. 22
My children are playing cricket in the front yard, with a basketball and a mallet. And one of them is naked. -Dec. 23
Things I never thought I'd find myself saying:
"I hope you put on pants for Christmas dinner!" -Dec. 24