These guys are having fun in New York this week.  Right now, they’re performing live on Good Morning America at Fordham University.  But they’ve been hanging with Dave all week.  This you tube clip is hilarious.

These shoes would make my youngest daughter’s heart dance and leap for joy.  I’m telling you, she would be in paradise.  Found the picture at Fairy Shoe Princess.  Yesterday afternoon, I took my three kids out for a fun jaunt as a treat.  We went to McDonald’s (I didn’t eat), then to the mall to eat a cookie and ride the carousel.  After the fun, I wanted to stop in a favorite store and see what was on the clearance rack.  I found a dress for my 6 year old, a cute pair of pants for the 4 year old, and a fun headband for either, all for $20. 

But my Mollie (4) found something else that stole her heart and wouldn’t let it go.  She found shiny pink slippers with a colossal pink gem on the top.  She needed them.  She craved them.  She carried them around the store and to the counter.  She had to have them.  Problem was, I had just bought her some shiny pink shoes at Target the week before.  I said no.  I put my foot down.  Not buying those shoes.  Well, I paid my $20 for my bargains, and she was still holding onto them.  I had to tell her that the alarm would go off if we left and she was still holding the beloved shoes.  So, out of shear terror, she let go of them.  BUT she was not happy with me!

In the car, she let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t like me right then.  I clearly explained that we can’t get everything we want, and it can be hard at times.  Her response (with an attitude): ”You just need to go to Dumb School to get even dumber.”

Somehow, miraculously, I didn’t laugh at the time.  I made it home and gave her a stellar time out and talking to.  But, I can’t quit thinking about that comeback.  Not an attitude I want to see in her, but you’ve got to admit it is comical.  I mean, where did she come up with that?  She is four, not fourteen.  When I told my husband the story this morning, we both had to turn away and die laughing.  What ever am I in for in the teen years?!

Sometimes I ask myself this question about my parenting.  The answer is usually much less than desirable in several random areas.  For example, last night, when my mother called to ask me a question, my 8 year old son picked up the other phone and began talking loudly into it while I was trying to answer her.  Not to be outdone, my 6 year old daughter interrupted him to scream a loud hello into the phone.  His choice words to her were a bit lacking in kindness, “Put down the phone, you rat.”  Or what about last night’s sit down dinner?  One after the other three kids did something vexing.  Jonathan prayed a silly prayer.  Anna kept on burping out loud.  Mollie informed me that kids don’t put their napkins in their laps - they keep them by their plate so they can reach them better.  Note to self: no formal dinners with children for another decade.

Okay, okay.  “Uncle” already!  I give.  I can’t be a perfect parent.  I can’t raise my kids faultlessly, on their sweet days, nor on their beastly ones.

However, I can continue to attempt to emphasize the right things.  By the way, I take a rather laid back approach to this parenting thing.  Don’t get me wrong - it is dreadfully important to me.  I just almost went insane trying to do it “right” my first year or two at the profession.  I’ve learned to enjoy it a bit more, and I take a kid-friendly approach.  We paint on our windows.  We jump on our couches.  (Sometimes.)  We  build forts with blankets that take up the entire den.  We watch t.v. and take naps snuggling together.  You get the idea.

I’m just hoping to continue emphasizing the important things, and eventually the other stuff will either be forgotten or hopefully we’ll all laugh about it.  (Definitely not winning any parenting awards here.)  So, what is the important stuff?  I don’t know - kindness (not ours to each other, but God’s toward us), the grace and love and power of God, things like that.  I overheard a conversation yesterday that put a little swing in my step.  In the car, my 8 year old and 4 year old were talking.  It went something like this: 

Mollie (4):  Once there was this really good angel.  But he wanted to be God.  He is a meanie head, and I hate Satan.  I had a dream that he was trying to get me. (I know, I know this is heavy stuff for a 4 year old.  It gets better.)

Jonathan (8):  Don’t worry, Mollie.  God will put his mighty angels around you at night, and Satan can’t bother you. 

Mollie:  I used to dream about baby angels after mommy would pray that for me.  I thought the angels were snuggling with me and they had pacies too.

Let me tell you, we all had a hearty laugh about that one.  Angels with pacies.  Definitely some theological issues there.  But the love of God had translated.  She was a baby, and even then God was meeting her.

How am I doing?  Some days I have no idea.  Others I feel okay about it.  Still different days, it is so hard and I’m failing so much I want to quit.  Maybe a better question is, “What is God doing in spite of me?”  Now that one I can see plainly.  And it is good, good news.

This is what my four year old Mollie said to me this morning on the way to her school.  I laughed, ”You’re right, Mollie.  I do not look beautiful.”   Gotta love the honesty of kids.  No make up and not enough sleep, I guess. Hmmm, maybe I need a spa day.  (Yeah, like that’s going to happen anytime in the next 15 years.)  Oh well, beauty is just black-eye deep, right?

I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy Groundhog Day! 

We had fun this year making our predictions.  Anna colored two pictures, one of a groundhog with his shadow and one without.  Then she asked everyone, family, friends, and neighbors, which they thought it would be!  We posted our forecasts on the fridge and waited.

The funny thing is we had our story wrong.  Everyone was thinking that if the groundhog (Punxta-whatever-his-name-is) saw his shadow today, a sunny day, that would mean an early spring.  The opposite was true.  If he sees his shadow it’s 6 more weeks of winter.  Guess the shadow scares him and he goes back in to hide for 6 more weeks!

You can read about the real thing here.  And he says 6 more weeks of winter!

The other night on the way home, we drove by a local assisted living apartment building for the elderly.  My daughter Anna looked over and said dreamily, “I just luuuv those hoomans.  I love those hooman beans.”  

A few weeks earlier she had participated in a caroling outing to those apartments, and she fell in love with the kind residents who so appreciated the young voices and hands to hold.  Guess we’ll have to go back!

Okay, you’ve got to know my youngest daughter to understand what I’m about to share.  Mollie is a four year old “fancy girl”, dramatic to the core, and nothing is frilly or girly enough for her.  Just the other night, she was modeling every pair of shoes I have in my closet, and you guessed it - the higher the heal, the more wrap-around ribbon and sequins, the less practical, the better.  The next day, when she was spending time at “Grandmom’s”, my mother went to put on her trusty old brown birks, comfy and practical.  Mollie looked at them with disdain and stated matter-of-factly, “Those shoes are not very princess-y.”  To which my mother replied, holding a grin from becoming a belly laugh,  “Well, I’m not a princess.”  Mollie, dead serious, countered, “No, you’re a queen.”  My mother could no longer contain herself and howled in amusement.  I guess a queen should not be seen in a pair of these.  Then again,  a queen should be able to wear whatever she wants.  hmmmm.

There is a whole bucket load of Junie B. Jones’ books by Barbara Park, and they are hilarious. I can’t believe I never knew about them. My nextdoor neighbor changed that the other day by giving us some old paperback copies. We’ve been addicted ever since. Junie B. Jones is, well let’s say, a spunky, precocious, curious, honest kindergartner. She is always getting herself into every possible sort of pickle.

Even more entertaining are the audio books read by Lana Quintal. She does an amazing job of making these stories even funnier. You can order them here, or just do like I did and check some out from your library. The stories are so delightful to listen to, and the car rides are much more bearable. (i.e. less hair-pulling and scream-fighting on the way home from places when the you-know-who’s are tired and grumpy.) The books are great fun to read aloud as well. My kids are even quoting some of the quirky sayings and using some of Junie B’s mannerisms.

Here is a sample from Junie B. Jones and some Sneaky Peeky Spying:

Spying is when you be very quiet. And you look at people through a peeky hole or a crack or something.

I am a very good spier.

That’s because I have sneaky feet. And my nose doesn’t whistle when I breath.

Last Friday morning at Grampa Miller’s house, I hided in the dirty clothes hamper. Then my grampa came in the bathroom. And I lifted up the lid a teeny bit. And I peeked my eyes at him.

And guess what?

Grampa Miller took his whole teeth right out of his head! That’s what!

I popped right out of the hamper!

“HEY! GRAMPA! HOW DID YOU DO THAT CRAZY THING!” I hollered.

Then my grampa screamed very loud. And he runned out of the bathroom speedy quick.

Grampa Miller has high blood pressure, I think.

I you, like me, didn’t know about these gifts of laughter, or you just haven’t read them to your kids, go. Now! Get some! Hurry!

Okay, this is just one of those stories I have to tell. It had been a long day, a long week, a looooong summer. I had plans Saturday evening to go to a hotel for the night with some girlfriends to restore some of my sanity and have some good hang time. My dear hubby was out and about before his “evening on.”

For whatever reason, I had HAD it. It might have been that the kids wanted to jump on the trampoline with the sprinkler on, and after a huge ordeal of setting it up for them they did it for five minutes, then came in soaking wet needing to be dried and clothed. It might have been that I had been with them nonstop for days, no - weeks on end. It might have been that I had about 30 minutes left before I was going out, and I wanted to freshen up a bit and get packed without three small people climbing all over me.

Whatever the reason was, I lost it. Lost it completely and lost it bigtime. I yelled at those sweet little guys. Yelled for them to “just leave me alone for 5 minutes, yada, yada, yada.” The three year old was crying. The five year old was hiding (smart girl!). The recently turned eight year old, took off for a bit. Then he returned, bold guy that he is. And he looked at me from inside my closet, half-hiding behind the door. He then took on the counselor role:

“Mom, are you sure you need to go spend the night with your friends? I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to act like this with them.”