Skip to main content

Not Myspace

Once, when the boys were like two and four, I let them put a couple of dozen stickers all over my face and hair.  They liked that I was playing with them, and aside from having to peel stickers off my eyelids and hair later, it was ten minutes of bliss.  My job: sit down and have some of my own thoughts while they happily practice peeling and sticking - no fighting, no one asking for food, no bottoms needing to be wiped.  I'm in.  

Yesterday, with four kids all piled on my lap at the same time, I considered using Amazon Prime to get a quick sticker delivery.  I needed a minute.  

You don't realize before having kids, how much they own your body.  I mean, there is the whole pregnancy thing, obviously.  And nursing.  I'm talking in addition to and after all that.  I always have a kid or more trying to climb up my legs to be held.  If I sit down, sitting next to me isn't close enough.  If they can reach my hair...it's good I have a tough scalp.  It's both endearing and annoying.  I love them, I love that they want to be near me.  I'm also a frequent victim of claustrophobia.  

Sometimes I hide from them.  Just for a minute.  Unfortunately, they know my hiding spot is the bathroom.  Their move: bang against the door until I come out.  I need to talk to a contractor about a secret room...  

I'll also be needing a secret drawer to hide all the good snacks.  

The girls discovered where the snacks are kept.  They are all of seventeen months.  The boys were at least three years in before they started recognizing the crinkle sound from a bag of crackers...chocolate chips.  Who am I trying to kid?  I'm not wasting calories on crackers.  I go straight for the chocolate.  The girls would like to be on the same program.  They pulled a bag of cookies off the counter last week when Ross wasn't watching them and dug in like they knew they were going to get caught.  Prior to that, they snatched graham crackers from the cupboard and tried to make a getaway with the whole package.  We let them keep one.  They don't appear guilty at all.    
                    

If the boys are active, these girls are trouble.  Ross has his work cut out for him.  I signed up for two boys.       


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Advanced Placement

 Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children.  At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection.  It's the antithesis of endearing.   They went missing the other day - the girls did.  That's never a good situation.  They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them.  Silence is the loudest alarm system.  Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom.   "MOM!" I met them in the hall.  Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response.   "No," I told her.  "I think you  did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream .  It was in my drawer where I always keep it.  The lid was screwed on.  And it was empty, wiped clean.  "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty.  They were both ...

Sheltering in Place

In the past three months Corona Virus has more or less turned the world on its head.  I feel almost guilty for not being more stressed or put out by the whole thing.  We have been extremely fortunate. What we thought was a most impractical move on our part, wound up being a huge blessing.  With our two boys and our two newborns, we moved out of our house with no yard in the city limits and into my parents' house in the country while waiting for our new house to be completed.  The weekend we moved "quarantine," "social distancing," and "shelter in place" became the new mantra of our state.   Moving in with my parents meant ten plus acres of play space and two extra able bodied adults to help even out the score with the four kids.  Win for the St. Clair's!  Unfortunately, my parents are beginning to realize they may have made an error in judgement.   Yesterday, Sawyer gave their cat swimming lessons.   Last week th...

Little Bit Dicey

 This might be a little controversial.  I try to steer clear of such topics in this space, but it needs to be said.  Take it as you will, but know that it comes from a place of love, concern, and respect.  Here it is: there is a right  way to cut an onion. Now, I'm not saying this to try and get anyone's dander up.  I'm just saying it's a subject that needs to be addressed in kitchens across America.  There may be more than one right way to skin a cat (I can't say I've tested that), but the same does not hold true for onions.  Please, you can teach an old dog new tricks - learn how to properly cut an onion.  It will save you time, frustration, onion tears, and possibly a finger.     Now, since I'm still sitting here on blogspot like it's 2003, I'm not going to post any how-to videos, but I'll do the next best thing.  I'll paste a link right here .    Check it out.  Practice it.  Make it a habit.  T...