I made the mistake of taking our two little ones in with me to try on some clothes. The youngest one is very silly. Before I took my shirt over my head, the smart part of my brain told me not to do it, but I didn't listen. I thought they were distracted enough by their own little age-appropriate conversation, not to worry about me.
The snickering started quickly.
"Wook Rissa, look at mommy's big ole belly," Myles laughed.
I put my quiet sign up (finger over the lips), but they just couldn't seem to contain their little selves.
I was hot because there were plenty of other people in the fitting rooms.
I turned my back to them and tried to hurry and try on my clothes.
Made it worse.
"Ewww! Wook at mommy's big ole butt," he said loudly to his sister.
"Rest yo' mouth!" I told him.
I had to keep my eyes sternly on them while I got my clothes back on them.
Myles put his hands over his mouth to keep himself from laughing, while his sister pretended to say something.
I was so embarrassed.
"Okay fine! That art kit I told yall I would THINK about gettin'- well I ain't gettin' it now!"
I was one up on 'em now.
As I tied my shoes and prepared to go out, my little five-year-old had the nerve to say,
"If you don't buy us that thang, then I'm gone put a wast in yo' pocketbook."
I heard someone in a fitting room say, "Uh-oh."
I thumped him in his head. (no one could hear that)
"And it's wasP, anyway," I told him.
I peeked to see if anyone else was coming out of their rooms before I finally left out of the fitting room.
While we waited in line to pay for the shirt I got, Maurissa sees one of her friends from school.
"Is that your little brother?" her friend asked.
"Oh yes, he goes to the school now. And this is my daddy's wife," she said.
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Saturday, August 30, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Little Brother's Keeper
The world has got to meet our seven-year-old. I neglected to mention that she began second grade on Monday. She had a good day- has a great teacher who is already privy to the Oscar worthy performances our daughter could put on. A nice, new teacher wouldn't stand a chance with her. Her teacher tells me today that she was crying when they went out for recess yesterday. With Maurissa, the great, I never know if it is something serious or not.
"What was she crying for?" I asked.
"Well, she saw her little brother on the playground- his first day as a kindergartner and began crying," she answered.
"Just look at him. He is just gettin' so big and just gettin' so grown," our SEVEN-year-old cried.
"It almost tore me to pieces," the teacher added. "Then she ran over to him and pushed him on the swing. When he went forward, she wiped tears," she shook her head.
I didn't know what to say.
"What did he do?" I asked.
"Oh, well she tried giving him a kiss once he was off the swing, and he tried to punch her," she answered.
Yep those are my little babies. They just love each other.
"What was she crying for?" I asked.
"Well, she saw her little brother on the playground- his first day as a kindergartner and began crying," she answered.
"Just look at him. He is just gettin' so big and just gettin' so grown," our SEVEN-year-old cried.
"It almost tore me to pieces," the teacher added. "Then she ran over to him and pushed him on the swing. When he went forward, she wiped tears," she shook her head.
I didn't know what to say.
"What did he do?" I asked.
"Oh, well she tried giving him a kiss once he was off the swing, and he tried to punch her," she answered.
Yep those are my little babies. They just love each other.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Today was the first official day of kindergarten for our baby! I didn't cry but as I walked a few steps in front of him, smiling as he struggled to carry his bag full of supplies for his classroom- proving he is a big boy now, I thought, "Where in the world did the time go?"
Seems like last week I was snapping the little onesies on him and blowing kisses on his belly. I remember how cute it was to hear him say his sister's name, "Riffa" because the "S" just didn't come yet... now he says it clearly and can spell it.
He was so proud to come to "big school" with mommy and his big sister. I made sure I stayed busy today so I would not let the moment consume me.
He had a great day- his only complaint was that he didn't get to nap long enough.
"Can you talk to my teacher about letting me take a longer nap next time?"
I just smiled and rubbed the top of his head.
I wanted to pick him up so bad and carry him- reminiscing on the days when he wasn't walking or talking much. He depended on me so much. Back then I wished he were bigger and could be more independent. I would love to go back.
I will just have the memories now. I remember someone telling me that they (kids) grow up quick- the time flies by, but that was when our daughter was just turning two- smearing feces from her pull-up on the wall; her brother was almost one month and I was at home with them EVERYDAY! Feeling like screaming! Now I would love to go back.
"You could have another one- you are still young," a friend suggested.
"And feel like I've lost my mind all over again?" I laughed.
Right... it will all be in my new book: Diary of a Mad, Black, Dysfunctional, Mom.
Seems like last week I was snapping the little onesies on him and blowing kisses on his belly. I remember how cute it was to hear him say his sister's name, "Riffa" because the "S" just didn't come yet... now he says it clearly and can spell it.
He was so proud to come to "big school" with mommy and his big sister. I made sure I stayed busy today so I would not let the moment consume me.
He had a great day- his only complaint was that he didn't get to nap long enough.
"Can you talk to my teacher about letting me take a longer nap next time?"
I just smiled and rubbed the top of his head.
I wanted to pick him up so bad and carry him- reminiscing on the days when he wasn't walking or talking much. He depended on me so much. Back then I wished he were bigger and could be more independent. I would love to go back.
I will just have the memories now. I remember someone telling me that they (kids) grow up quick- the time flies by, but that was when our daughter was just turning two- smearing feces from her pull-up on the wall; her brother was almost one month and I was at home with them EVERYDAY! Feeling like screaming! Now I would love to go back.
"You could have another one- you are still young," a friend suggested.
"And feel like I've lost my mind all over again?" I laughed.
Right... it will all be in my new book: Diary of a Mad, Black, Dysfunctional, Mom.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Make Believe Friends
"At what age do children stop having make believe friends?" my husband whispered.
"Don't even worry about it. There is nothing wrong with our daughter- just don't give it any attention," I told him.
Yes, she is seven and a normal seven-year-old probably wouldn't still have a make believe friend but hey, we've always said she is "cut from a different cloth". She didn't have them when she was younger- when it would be easier to accept I guess.
But there isn't anything wrong with her- I would have tried to get disability. (just kidding)
Her make believe friend's name is Wilbur. She doesn't try to hide him either. Wilbur usually comes out to drive others in the house up a wall. She has talked to him while I was "blessing" her out about something she had done wrong. I popped her and Wilbur. I got him good- darn near abused him.
Wilbur also appears when she wants to make her brother mad but recently he got the upper hand.
I was just finishing up her hair- great time for her brother to come in and mess with her because she has to keep still. She began singing and her brother tried to chime in- singing the wrong words purposely.
"Stop!" she yelled.
He continued and attempted to get louder.
She really wanted to reach out and get him but I wasn't finished.
"I'm just gonna play with Wilbur then- come on Wilbur!" she said.
"I'm gonna play with Wilbur too," he teased.
"Ha! He said he doesn't want to play with you!" she smiled.
Her brother paused for a moment then said, "Take that Wilbur!" While pretending to choke Wilbur.
She let it go on for a minute then folded her arms and said, "Wilbur's not even over there anyway. That's CeeCee!"
"Don't even worry about it. There is nothing wrong with our daughter- just don't give it any attention," I told him.
Yes, she is seven and a normal seven-year-old probably wouldn't still have a make believe friend but hey, we've always said she is "cut from a different cloth". She didn't have them when she was younger- when it would be easier to accept I guess.
But there isn't anything wrong with her- I would have tried to get disability. (just kidding)
Her make believe friend's name is Wilbur. She doesn't try to hide him either. Wilbur usually comes out to drive others in the house up a wall. She has talked to him while I was "blessing" her out about something she had done wrong. I popped her and Wilbur. I got him good- darn near abused him.
Wilbur also appears when she wants to make her brother mad but recently he got the upper hand.
I was just finishing up her hair- great time for her brother to come in and mess with her because she has to keep still. She began singing and her brother tried to chime in- singing the wrong words purposely.
"Stop!" she yelled.
He continued and attempted to get louder.
She really wanted to reach out and get him but I wasn't finished.
"I'm just gonna play with Wilbur then- come on Wilbur!" she said.
"I'm gonna play with Wilbur too," he teased.
"Ha! He said he doesn't want to play with you!" she smiled.
Her brother paused for a moment then said, "Take that Wilbur!" While pretending to choke Wilbur.
She let it go on for a minute then folded her arms and said, "Wilbur's not even over there anyway. That's CeeCee!"
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