My children are at a very funny age. They are hilarious when they aren’t making me crazy. I thought I would tell a few stories about them and their recent commentary and personality.
The triplets are learning all about the human body in school right now. Violet is particularly interested in this topic. Her most favorite part of the human body are the bones. She likes to talk about bones. Yesterday she said out of the blue “daddy, did you know that if we didn’t have any bones we would be flat?” Pretty clever. She must’ve really thought this one through. She also happens to be fascinated with blood and death. She is not morbid, just very curious.
Ava likes to really rub it in my face that I don’t work. I don’t have a job like daddy does. Basically, I am a bonafide loser. I try to tell her that I am basically sacrificing any career or money making ventures that I could have right now to be home to raise my children. To this I get a big fat no comment. When Ava grows up she wants to be the following things, all at once, in particular order:
5. Volunteer at the zoo
Nowhere on that list is housewife. Humph.
I don’t know the context, but yesterday Chris told Ava, “with age comes responsibility.” Ava said, “what do you mean?” Chris replied, “as you get older you have things you have to do. Look at mommy and I, we have a house, kids, jobs. “ Ava said, “mommy doesn’t have a job. She’s just a housewife.” Chris said, “no, mommy works really hard around here running the house and feeding you kids and getting you to school. “ Ava said “you do that too daddy.” Chris said “before we had kids mommy had a job where she made money.” Ava said, “like where? Mountain Mikes Pizza?”
Hey Ava, if you wanna know just how cool it is to be a housewife, check this out: Housewifery.
It looks like I am going to have to get an article published in the New Yorker or Time Magazine so maybe I can earn some respect from my 7-year-old. Not that there is anything wrong with being a housewife or working at Mountain Mike’s Pizza.
My only son, the Senator, Mr. Preston James, is on his own developmental path. He is funny and smart and sweet but he will not learn his letters or write his name in the proper letter order until he is damn well ready! I am quite sure if he was my first child I would be completely freaking out that he may not be keeping up with his peers. But being older and wiser, and Preston being my fourth child by one minute, I know better. This kid aint dumb, he is uninterested. One night Chris and I tried to teach Preston the letter A for about an hour straight. We would show him the flashcard of a big fat letter A and then take it away and ask him what letter it was. He would play dumb. He did this fun game just long enough for Chris to start looking up Dyslexia on the computer, and then he mastered that letter A.
When Preston’s brain is developmentally ready to learn something, he rocks it. Last year he scored pretty average on the fine motor skills section of his preschool assessments. This is common for boys who tend to be more advanced in gross motor skills such as jumping off things, running into things, climbing over things, and smashing bugs with their hands and feet. The triplets have been back to preschool for two weeks and this is the self-portrait that Preston drew. I love it. He has a mushroom for a nose, scary teeth badly in need of orthodontic work and the green line signifies his chin. I think it is pretty great for a 4-year-old. His teachers are also impressed.
Lastly but certainly not least I must mention my sweet social little child named Elsa. Elsa does not have red hair and therefore she does not have any outlandish stories I can tell. She is the normal child I always wanted with her normal behavior and normal problems. She is socially advanced, making friends with children and adults alike. I can take her anywhere and she will blend in and act 10 years older than her real age. She will compliment you on your shoes and jewelry and hair. She will not be afraid to administer constructive criticism if she sees something that you should improve upon. She is friendly, like when we were in Starbucks the other day and she saw a man covered in tattoos and she walked up to him and said, as if he wasn’t aware, “you have tattoos ALL OVER YOUR BODY” pointing at his arms with her little pointer finger. Unlike the wild spastic red heads in my house, Elsa would be content sitting for hours on my lap cuddling. It is a special treat.
We recently took a trip South of Half Moon Bay to a little cozy beach town called Pescadero for a family friends’ wedding. We brought the kids and our babysitter with us. It was a really nice time having the kids there with us because we got to romp around the beach with them, which is what we all like to do the best. My babysitter took some fantastic pictures with her iPhone that should inspire anyone who doesn’t have an iPhone, to get one. To be able to take great pictures with your cell phone is a 21st century blessing.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.