(Madeline) "Ready Mommy? I'm ready to write my song, how do you spell crack-a-lackin?"
(Amy to Noah Baker) "SIGH...stop licking your sister's hair/shoe/plate/ear/hat/spoon/book!"
(Sam to Madeline) "That was so inappropriate Madeline, I'm totally telling Mommy & she is going to tell you that was not a good choice!"
*After Madeline said in the van recently, "Holy shit!" and the van nearly drove off the rode and angry eyes & serious words were exchanged between mother & daughter (meanwhile Sam is having a near anxiety attack at the thought that she ACTUALLY said it out loud!) this is what she had to say: Mommy, I did not mean to say shit. I won't say shit ever again. Shit is a really bad word. Shit is not something that I should say. If anyone says shit they should probably go in time-out. Shit is a really naughty word." Now readers you have to understand the girl did not seem sorry at all, and was very aware that I was buckled up & in traffic while she was calming explaining to me her reasoning. Sigh. So I finally say, "That's right Madeline, we DO NOT say shit. Ever." Sam says, "Now Mommy I'm about to say some bad words, because they really go with this conversation, okay? Okay? (Amy is busy praying Noah some how fell asleep) Madeline, you also can't say, "Shit, Hell, Damn, or really really really not (in a whispered voice) God Damnit." SIGH. I say, "Yes Sam that is absolutley right, we do not say any of those words...ever (the ever was hissed)." Luckily this conversation does not happen daily. So I focus on the funny ones.
When Sam was 3 & I was very pregnant with Madeline Sam/I were on an elevator (of course we were) with a pretty, young, black woman. This young woman happened to have a very tall crazy wild hair-do. I notice the hair & Sam's reaction to her right-away. Sam pulls on my maternity shirt & whispers in the loudest whisper voice that sounds like a small roar bouncing off the elevator walls, "Mommy-why does that lady have scary-bad-guy-hair?" I say something like, "She must like it that way, let's say hi instead?" Sam is glued to my leg with wide eyes, the elevator took about 587 minutes to go down 2 floors that afternoon. Finally, Sam says as we are leaving (luckily this gal is smiling at the power of his cuteness) "Well, WHY does she like scary-bad-guy hair?" That was the beginning of "Let's talk about this when we get back to the van". Has been great for all three kids; and they do remember to mention it once we get back out of ear-shot. It has saved many an uncomfortable situation. Although there is an occasional, "Mommy (loud whisper with wide eyed stare/glare at subject) when we get back to the van, I want to talk to you about something!"(finger pointing @ subject).
Smiling? Me too!
