Samantha announced this morning, "I love going to the ones at church. Cuz they have yummy treats to buy." She then demolished some of the cookies we purchased on Saturday at a church rummage/bake sale. "Mommy, I think I'm still hungry," as she eyed the last pink frosted cookie. I responded, "I guess you can have the last one, since your sister and brother are still sleeping." "Nah, Maggie would probably want to eat it, Mommy, so I think I'll let her have it." She then proceeded to take a sprinkle off the cookie, eat it, and put the cookie back in the kitchen for her sister.
A sweet moment.
I would love to say that every moment of every day is sweet with my kids. But facts are facts. They can really drive me crazy. I was very much looking forward to Saturday afternoon, because the kids' grandparents offered to watch them, and it meant I could get a little break from them. I love them, with all of my being, but wow. Somedays, slamming my head into the wall would be helpful for stress relief. My headaches, not so much. I actually look forward to going to physical therapy, because it means one hour away from home. Time to decompress... ok, so I'm usually put in excruitating pain from all the muscle manipulation... but still, I get away, and have a moment to myself. (Brandon and I always seem to come back to the same discussion. I always tell him, that even though it's "WORK" that he goes to every day, he still gets a way. He doesn't see it this way, because he's at his place of employment. I've tried explaining that he gets to leave, gets to have adult conversations, and doesn't have to deal with mountains of poop. He's watching the kids while I'm at OotM world finals in a few weeks... maybe then he'll see what I'm saying.)
But it's really mostly good... sweet moments, (as well as frustrating ones) fill each day. Today's started really early, as Maggie and Samantha came in to my room at 5 am. I woke up to a toy dinosaur in my face.
Maggie: "Rawwwr, Mommy!"
Samantha: "Rawr up Mommy dinosaur! (then in a whisper) That means wake up!"
Fortunately, I got them to go back to sleep... and Maggie is still sleeping.
Samantha always has hilarious things to say. For instance, on Friday, she said:
Sam: "Smoosh your boobs! Smoosh your boobs!" (Doing what she's saying)
Me: "Nooooo! Don't smoosh boobs! Why do you do that?"
Sam: "It's how you say 'hi' in alien!"
Me: "Nope! Aliens say 'Greetings Earthling, I come in peace!'"
Sam: "Ohhh. Greeting Earf-wing, I smoosh your boobs! Smoosh your boobs in peace!"
Me: "Not even close. Don't smoosh my boobs, please."
Sam: "I'm not smooshing your boobs. My alien self is smooshing your boobs. (Giggles)"
Me: "Alien Samantha, please stop smooshing the earthling's boobs."
Sam: "Ok, Earf-wing. Since you said please!"
Earlier last week, I was changing the sheets on her bed, and she was helping me. I told her she was being very helpful and responsible. Her response, "Mommy, I'm three, almost four. I don't need big words like responsible. Save that for when I'm four-and-a-half!"
My "responsible" little 3, almost 4 year old, Samantha.
Melissa
No comments:
Post a Comment