BOOOORING!

The girls are in deep doodoo. Yesterday between stealing cookies and vandalizing the dog's dinner (again), they managed to fight constantly and paint the bathroom (and Genevieve's face) with mascara. (This is but a partial list of crimes.)

So, they're in trouble today. Besides being grounded from sweets and movies and... something else, I forget... they have to sit in their little blue chairs all afternoon. We got home around 12:30 and will not leave here untill around 5. That's four and a half hours. A long time to sit and do nothing, even for an adult. For two squirmy kids, this is torment.

I like it. It's long and painful, but not physically. It's slow and monotinous, it just drags on and on. They aren't allowed to stand up. They cheat and move the chairs around a bit but they know better than the leave my presence. They aren't allowed toys so they have the most inane conversations, like listing all the places they want to sleep some day. "I want to sleep in a tent some day. I want to sleep in a water bottle some day." They play stupid games like blowing in each other's faces, and stomping on each other's feet. They ask constantly what time it is. Genevieve gets excited every time the second hand gets to the five, but Imogen reitterates that that doesn't mean it's 5:00.

Imogen was upset on the way home when she was told how she would spend her afternoon. I reminded her of all the things she was grounded from.

Crying, she said "Just because we're grounded doesn't mean you have to NOT let us!"

I said "Actually, that's exactly what it means."

Still crying, she said "I need lots of hugs."

Watching her, Genevieve tried to muster up some tears.

Pretend bathrooms

The girls recieved a playhouse for Genevieve's birthday this last year. It's very cute and very nice with a little doorway and window and a porch and everything. The girls love to play outside in it. All kinds of pretending happens. Today they decided to pretend they had a bathroom in thier little playhouse. The only thing on hand was a couple of buckets from thier sandbox. No problemo, apparently. They may have been pretending, but we found REAL pee in the buckets. I told Imogen I was baffled. She agreed that it was indeed very baffling.

Cuteness

My daughter belongs in the seventh circle of fashion hell

This is thier idea of feeding the dog

Five

Imogen: "Mommy, when I'm five and I go to school and I'm still five, I will tell Mrs. ------- that I'm five."

Sometimes I really just don't know what to say to my kid.

Tea and whiteness

Genevieve was drinking the very last bit of tea out of the pitcher when I noticed her staring at the bottom of her cup. There were little flecks of black, tea grounds or leaves or whatever mysterious substance it is in tea bags. Then I noticed the look of horrified revulsion on her face, as if it was rabbit turds in her cup.

"It's ok," I said. "It's tea leaves." Relief washed over her face at my calm reaction. I sat there wishing I had screamed and insisted it was baby spiders.
"It's yucky," she said, much reassured.



A couple days ago I was doing Imogen's hair for school. She stood looking at us both in the mirror and said "We're not the same white, Mommy. I'm bright white."

Genevieve's head

Genevieve's head had a hard day yesterday. When we got home from the grocery store I was unloading the bags in the back of the van. My hands were full and I turned to close the back door to the van with my elbow. Just as I pushed it down, hard, she rounded the corner behind me and the door landed on her head.

She crashed into a few walls at home as well. Then the dresser fell on her for the second day in a row. Then Neil was swinging Imogen around and Genevieve wandered too close and thier heads made contact.

So, if she wanders around in a kind of daze or if you see her with a football helmet on, you know why.

Zzzzzz....

The girls looked so cute in thier dresses that I took pictures of them before I went and had pictures made of them. The Sears pictures turned out great for anyone who hasn't seen them yet. (Mom, I'll try to mail your's to you, ASAP!)

Neither girl lays down for naps anymore, but sometimes, Genevieve will still crash. She's still a bit of a baby. :)

Spilled milk

Imogen is getting insanely tall. She wears a size six or 6x, though that shirt is a size seven and since she's so tall, she definitely wears a seven in dresses. Genevieve is still a size 3, though she'll wear fours in t-shirts and dresses which can be long/roomy. I like to buy the biggest size I can so I don't have to replace clothes as often. I'm cheap that way. ;) But Genevieve's little butt still needs a three in shorts and pants.

midterms

I'm busy this week.

Pictures

Got the girls' pictures taken at Sears. They look awesome!

Otherwise, I need to get Imogen to stop being so friendly. I swear, she just runs up to people and starts having all these conversations with them and the person doesn't even know how to react to it.

Good behavior

I've always believed that my children shouldn't be inflicted on other people. So I've always made it a goal that my children be fairly well behaved in public.

Today we went to Fuji for lunch, a Japanese hibachi grill here in town. Eight people to a table. The other four people sitting there were these two elderly couples. We all enjoyed our lunch and the girls sat fairly quietly, eating their food and talking to us. They didn't like the salad and everyone laughed when Genevieve tried a bite of it (priceless expression, but she managed to swallow the bite!) but they ate at least some of everything else. At the end of our meal, when the other people were leaving, the man sitting next to Jeremy leaned over and said "I just have to compliment you on the behavior of your children."

Yay me!! I'm not raising complete monsters!

Really, that kind of thing is always pleasant to hear.

On the other hand, Imogen was on the phone with my mom the other day, asking just how many gifts she would be getting for her birthday and informing my mother that the proposed number was not enough. GRRR. We had a talk that evening about gift etiquette.

My daughter, the hair stylist

Yesterday, while talking to a friend on the phone, I found a chunk of Genevieve's hair. Unmistakably Genevieve's. Very straight, dark brown, cut very neatly at the top and tapering down at the bottom. I held it up "You cut your hair?" I don't know why I phrase these things as a question. Her already large brown eyes widened and she took a step back and said "No." I said "No?? Don't tell me know. It's really quite obvious that you DID. I'll be happy to take you to get a real haircut if you want. Do you want your hair short?" And she said "No." She wants her hair long, supposedly.

Then, today, I'm wetting down her hair to put it up for day care. As I brush the hair back from the forehead an inch long section suddenly springs up saying "Here I am!" I told Genevieve that if she's going to cut her hair in the future can she PLEASE take it off in the BACK rather than front-and-center? I also told her I couldn't put her hair up and she responded (reasonably of course) by throwing herself on the floor and screaming. To which I respoonded by picking her up and dragging her to her room and shutting her door and fervently praying she would be done with this display by the time it was time to leave. Which she was.

In the meantime, I need to figure out how to make that hair grow or something.

Shopping trip

Jeremy's grandmother loves to spoil. She sent Valentine's Day cards for each of the girls with two dollars in them. Jeremy told them they could spend them money on whatever they wanted themselves.

So today we get around to doing that. We walk into Walmart and I ask them what they want to buy.

"Can I buy whatever I want?" Imogen asks.
"Yes," I say.
"Can I buy gum?" she asks. Now, gum has been the ultimate forbidden fruit, ever since I picked some out of Genevieve's hair. If I buy some, I don't share it. If I let them pick something out at the store to get, I veto gum. When they ask when they can get gum, I tell them when they're 18.
"Yes," I say, "You can get gum."

So we pick out gum and more candy and we proceed to tell anyone who has the misfortune of wandering within six feet of us all about this. Long explanations of the choice of gum and candy along with who's paying for it and how they got the money follow. It's cute but embarrassing.

But on the other hand, how sweet that $2 each can totally make their day. Such innocence that buying gum and candy themselves is so very COOL. As Genevieve proclaimed "I can buy whatever I want."

Vague questions

I don't know if kids just think I'm a mind reader or if they honestly think they always communicate the necessary information to me.

Little Miss Questions walked up and asked "What is that red stuff that's not chapstick?"
Without even trying to clarify, I said, "Blood."
She shook her head, "No, it's-"
"Jello," I interupted.
"No! It goes on your lips!" she said.
"Oh... lipstick."

Kids make me laugh with thier statements of absolutes. Today Genevieve said "Animals don't live in houses." I said "Does Zeus live in a house? Is Zeus an animal?" The fact that I had proven the previous statement wrong did not cause her to abandon it, however. Why? Because lions and tigers don't live in houses. Eventually it was suggested that she modify it to "Some animals don't live in houses."

Imogen however is all about questions. She'll ask questions till my EARS BLEED!! It drives me nuts, honestly. If she runs out of questions, she'll start asking questions about things she already knows. She'll sit in front of a movie she's seen about 4.8 million times (like Toy Story 2) and ask me questions about it. "Who are they? Why doesn't he like him? Is that the real Buzz? Why is she sad? Why are they hiding? What was that? Where is Andy?" I think she just hates when I have a moment to focus on homework or something. If I ask her the same questions instead of answering them, she'll say the answer.

"Imogen, you ask a lot of questions," I said.
"Yeah, 'cause I'm just a kid," she said.

That explains it.

Pizza faces

Food is yummier if you wear it, apparently.

Stuff

I got flowers for Valentines Day! I was shocked. I think this is the second time I've gotten flowers since I've been married. :) Except from other people when I had the girls.

The second one is that horrid plaster sculpture I've been complaining about. I actually had to paint it so now it's black. I know what you're thinking: I should change majors. At least, you would be thinking that if you saw other people's sculptures. If I never see plaster again it'll be too soon. I'm not a sculpter type person at all.

SUGAR!!!!

My kids are in various stages of being grounded from various things for various crimes. Genevieve asked when she would be ungrounded from sweets.
"Saturday," I said.
"Nooo," she whined.
"How about Sunday," I said, thinking my voice conveyed an adequate level of warning.
"Sunday! Ok!" she said, giggling excitedly, and secretly congratulating herself on her negotiation skills. (Future politicians of the world, beware.)

Imogen decided to get in on the act.
"When am *I* ungrounded from sweets?"
"Saturday," I said, bored to death of this conversation.
"Saturday is too far away," she said.
"How about Sunday," I said, hoping it would work again. But Imogen's been getting days-of-the-week lessons at school.
"How about tomorrow? Tomorrow would help," she said. Help what? She already got to eat piles of candy for Valentine's Day. I don't feel sorry for her at all.

Then there's the bagel/donut controversy. Imogen, for the life of her, can not, ever, remember that a donut is a donut. I can see the mixup. Both a small round bread with a hole in the center. She sees a Krispy Kreme truck and it's "Look! A bagel truck!"

So, yesterday, I knew Imogen would come home with lots of candy and cookies and I felt bad for Genevieve (Genevieve got grounded from sweets today, while Imogen's been grounded from sweets since Monday). So we went to the DONUT shop and got a couple DONUTS. Genevieve didn't like her's, but it goes against the Code of the Kid to admit that about something that's chocolate with chocolate icing with more sprinkles plastered to it than the average grocery store stocks in the baking aisle. So she puts it in the fridge to "save it for later". It sat in there getting less appetizing by the moment (donuts don't keep very well) and Imogen was positively obsessing about the thing. I had to hear almost constant requests to go to the "place where I bought the bagel" and so that I could "get her a bagel of her own".

So finally Genevieve pulls the stupid thing out of the fridge and earns all kinds of brownie points sharing this day and a half old nasty donut that she didn't like in the first place with her sister, who scarfs it down and then asks me if we can go back to the bagel shop to get more.

*twitch*