How Meet The Robinsons Got My Kids Asking Questions

Well, last night we sat down after Judo to each dinner and the kids wanted to watch SpongeBob.  I did not (yes sometimes we eat dinner around the TV–not always but sometimes–done judging?).  So I was looking for something entertaining and I noticed that Meet the Robinsons was on.  So I flipped to that and Noah was immediately interested and asked “Where is the guy we are looking for–the main character?”

We watched the movie until the neighbors got home and then the kids went and jumped on the trampoline together (I know what you are thinking–“don’t you know how dangerous trampolines are?”  Well I do, and I also know they are fun).  Then we finished watching the movie.  At the end, we had a long discussion about the premise of the movie and the idea of time travel and how cool that would be–and it took Noah a bit to understand the whole idea of being able to go into the future, etc.  But in the end put it together.

Then we talked about the adoption part.  Then he asked about his own adoption story–he wanted to know what I knew.  This is the first time he has really asked for me to tell him what I know–he was never interested before.  So we talked a long time (I will not tell the story here–as it belongs to my son).  We talked about how he was in the hospital and Bill and I were so scared that he wasn’t going to live and then we talked about how babies sometimes die all over the world from things that seem not to bad to those of us fortunate enough to have money and regular access to doctors and healthy food and environments.  Then Zoë wanted to know her story and hers is more cloudy than Noah’s story and a bit more sad).  It was a hard conversation, as you want to be honest but these kids are only 4 1/2 and 6 and adoption, while happy for us, is also very sad and confusing for kids–especially for kids who are adopted internationally.

After our talk, they were both visibly sad.  They didn’t know how to feel.   They were sad that there was their birthmoms who they wouldn’t ever know.  Noah really wanted to know if his was alive and I had to say that I didn’t know.  He said “I think maybe she died.”  I had to say I didn’t know, but I can see how for a child it might be an easier way to understand and/or cope.  We then talked about Ethiopia and the nannies who took such good care of them when they were babies waiting for us.  They talked about being excited to travel to Ethiopia and play with the babies and kids who are waiting for families.  They want to thank the nannies who took care of them.

It was such a great conversation, but it was so hard.  I am glad we had it, but I know it isn’t the last time we will talk about it.  These are conversations I always knew we would have and have had some version of over the last almost 6 years, but when we got that phone call 6 years ago today about a 1+ month old baby boy, I had no idea how complex this parenting thing would be.

I wouldn’t change a minute of it or a single choice we made.

Gender Specific Play Time

UGH! Even the title of this post makes me cringe–just not feeling creative in the title creation.

Bill is leaving for a business trip today for the rest of the week.  The kids are used to me traveling for work, but Bill doesn’t travel for work much.  So, we originally planned to go to a movie and dinner as a family.  But Noah wants to see the Avengers (as does Bill) and it is almost 2 1/2 hours long and there IS NO WAY IN HELL OR ANYWHERE ELSE that Zoë could sit that long or even really be interested in the movie.  So we decided that Bill and Noah would see the movie another time.

Noah was crushed, but much to my surprise he didn’t throw a full-on tantrum.  He cried a bit, but then said he wanted to do something special with just his dad.  That then started that Zoë wanted to something special with me.  I suggested making dinner.

“That isn’t special or very fun!” pouty face.

So, I asked her what she wanted to do.

“Put on make-up.  That is what girls do.”

UGH!  I don’t own any “real” make-up.  I don’t wear make-up.  As I get older, I probably should, but I am too old to learn how to correctly apply make-up.  I think Zoë knows more about make-up application than I do.

So, I pulled out my make-up kit–which is really a Victoria’s Secret give-away that my mom got.  But for as often as I wear make-up (maybe some eye-liner or mascara 2x per year) it works just fine.  And Zoë is convinced it is just the right size for her.

So, I begrudgingly put some make up on her.  She was in girly girly heaven.

“Don’t I look pretty now mom.”

“You look just perfect and beautiful without it.”

“But I feel really pretty with it on.”–Oh brother.  But how can I not understand.  I always feel pretty after a pedicure.

Then she insisted on putting make up on me.  I limited what she put on me and we talked about how I don’t like stuff on my lips or face. So she did just a little blush and eye shadow.

“You look more beautiful mommy.”

How on this earth did I get cursed blessed with such a girly girl?  I am rapidly being pushed beyond my knowledge of all things girlie.

Then I had to get my toes painted.  She threw a fit when I told her should couldn’t paint all my nails a different color and that she couldn’t paint my fingernails.  I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t professional for me to have my toe nails painted a bunch of different colors.  So we compromised with one foot one color and one foot another color.  I have to admit she did a good job of painting for a 4 year old–she even wiped up where she painted my actual foot.  And I do feel pretty with my toes painted.  Damn.

Since we have apparently traveled back to the 50’s for one night, Zoë and I went to cook dinner.  She made tartar sauce for the fish and after she ate at least 3 forkfuls of relish, I put in the salt and pepper.

“Why do you use salt and pepper in lots of things?”

“They are considered spices and they add flavor.  There are lots of spices.”

“Oh so things taste good on our flavor dots.”

“Flavor what?”

“Our flavor dots.  On our tongue.”

“Oh…you mean taste buds.”

“No flavor dots.”

Okay, so flavor dots it is.  I for one am happy to have my Flavor Dots.

No Longer Wondering Where She Gets It From

Zoë is a talker.  And by talker I mean she NEVER STOPS TALKING.  Seriously.

Often times I feel really bad, because I am asking her to be quiet for 5 minutes here and there.  But then I talk while she is quiet.  Yes.  I too am a talker.  This really just hit me last night.   I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was just a little.

So, we were driving home from gymnastics and Zoë was talking and talking and I just couldn’t think.  So I asked her to be quiet for the ride home and we would just listen to music.  Just sit and the peace and quiet and listen.

Well, before I knew it we were talking again.  WHAT!?!  We were supposed to be quiet. I am pretty sure that I asked her a question to start the whole thing.  To ruin my 5 minutes of silence until the kids are in bed.  What was I thinking?

I said “We aren’t so good at this being quiet thing are we?”

Zoë: “Nope.  We like to talk.   WE SHOULD PLAY THE QUIET CAME.”

“yes please” (so I don’t have to listen to the excited yelling anymore)

“Mom if my beads make noise does that count?”

“No–only if you talk.”

“READY, SET, Go” she yelled and was then quiet for the entire 5 minutes it took us to get home.

It was pure bliss.

Then I pulled up to the curb and it stopped.

She Still Eats Random Food She Finds

So, the Mecca of all girlishness, consumerism and future bankruptcy–American Girl–just opened a store up in my fair city.  I never paid much attention to this store before, even as I read/heard countless tales of moms and daughters trekking to the Chicago store for a special shopping trip.

We just started getting the American Girl catalog not too long ago.  Zoë loves looking at the catalog.  I tell her it’s a book so she hasn’t quite thought about it enough to realize that it is a propaganda tool to get girls indoctrinated into over the top consumerism.

I will admit right now that I had no clear idea of just how pricey these dolls are.  One Hundred Fucking Dollars.  For a doll?  Are you kidding me?  My daughter–bless her little heart–still eats random food she finds on the floor (after she blows on it).  I am so not buying her a doll that costs $100 plus dollars.  Then you have to buy the clothes.  The outfits are $28.  These are doll clothes.  Clothes. For. Dolls.

I am not cheap.  I don’t mind spending money–but this seems like such a ridiculous amount of money for a doll.  Am I just wrong?

What do you think?  Would you spend that kind of money on a doll?  Have you?

 

Recipe For Wasting a Whole Day At Work

Zoë complained of a sore throat on Tuesday night.  Strep was making its way through her class again (only time nuber 312).  I was lucky enough to have Noah’s well-child check scheduled for first thing the next morning–getting a twofer at the pediatrician is awesome.

So, it was confirmed that my little girl has strep.  We got antibiotics right away–so she could go to school the next day (they can return 24-hours after first dose of antibiotics).  I am not one to send my kids to school if they are sick.  But, I couldn’t have Zoë with me for another day.  She is so high energy and full of fun that it is impossible to get any work done when she is around.  She talks non-stop and wants needs to be the center of attention.  She talked to my boss for 10 minutes in the am and utter the sentence “I like to talk a lot.  My brother doesn’t.  But I love to talk.”  I don’t think that it is that Noah doesn’t like to talk, it is just that there is never a moment to actually get a word in with Zoë around.

I brought Zoë back to work with me after we took Noah back to school (this boy is impervious to all germs–Zoë has had strep 2x and tonsillitis 1x–and Noah nothing.  NOTHING.  Bill had a busy day at work and since he works at home he does most of the taking care of sick kids.  So, it was my turn to watch the sick kid.  Although, there is no part of her that acted sick.

My office is small–we work in an old row house and my office is on the 3rd floor with one other office and then there are three offices on the 2nd floor.  My boss and one of my other co-worker were out of the office so that left 3 of us in the office to actually get no work done.  If you have met Zoë you can understand why no one got any work done.

There was the 25 minutes where she played with legos and asked me every 2 seconds to help her take a piece of to to “look what I made” after every piece she added.  Then there were the dozen or so trips down stairs to yell “Boo” at my co-workers who found her amusing and entertaining.  Zoë is a talker and she has a lot to say.  She can carry on a conversation about anything.  One of my co-workers is also a talker.

Then there was the note communication–

(wanting a unicorn pillow pet)

I then had to respond because “I have to tell Brian what you say.”

“If you want a unicorn, you have to save your money,” I reply.  (I had to repeat it twice because her attention span is that of a flea)

She returned with a big smile and this note demanding “read it”

I then had to respond again.  So I gave her $1.  She wanted a one with more numbers on it.  I don’t think so kid.

She scampered off with her loot and then returns with this.

She ran up the steps so excited.  “Look what Brian gave me.”  She proudly shows me her loot “On really big one (a quarter), a thick one (a nickel), a tiny one (a dime) and a gold one (a penny).  I have four mom.”

I laughed so hard.  She was so proud until I explained to her that what she had 41 cents and that her dollar bill had been worth 100 cents.  The look on her face was one of determination. She stomped off down stairs and I hear her say.  I want my dollar back.

She then returned with her dollar and the coins and was so very impressed that she got to keep the coins.  By this time of the day it was clear that no one was going to get any work done with my little socialite at work.

One co-worker left because he couldn’t stop playing with her.

Bring  your kid two work day should be title “National Do No Work Day.”  I am paying the price today, but it was fun having her at work.