Make Bed Races

Each morning we help Marin and Emmy to make their beds. As we do, we ask the girls to name each thing we touch "white sheets, green blanket, blue comforter" etc. We do this to help them learn colors and new words.

The problem is that Emmy is quicker on her feet then Marin, which peeves Marin to no end. While Marin pauses for a second to think about which item we are touching, Emmy blurts out "green blanket!" Emmy gets so excited about speaking first that she stutters "gre- gre- gre- green b-b-b-b-lanket" and she still gets the thought out before Marin does.

Marin whirls around and screams "No. Emmy close mouth. My bed!"

Emnet the Devious

One of my vices is reading at the table. I've been doing it since I was a kid - newspapers, magazines, and the mail. It is one way I multi-task.

Colleen grudgingly tolerated this throughout our marriage until the kids came, upon which she laid down the law. NO READING AT THE TABLE.

The kids picked up on this and seldom miss an opportunity to reprimand me if I try to sneak a peak at something while sitting at the table. One time Marin went so far as to hide my mail.

Fast forward to this morning. Just Emmy and I at the table. Emmy eating cereal and me drumming my fingers in boredom. Colleen and Marin were in the next room doing something.

Emmy reaches over, touches my wrist, smiles sweetly and says "Daddy reading? It's OK. No tella Mama. Daddy reading." So I ponder this invitation, decide "what the hay", grab my mag and dig in. I'm not even through the first sentence when Emmy wheels in her chair and yells, at the top of her lungs "Mama Mama, Daddy reading at table."

Then she turns to look at me as if to say "How does it feel to be tricked by a two year old, you dope?"

Holy Wars

This is another post about the mealtime prayer.

Marin and Emmy are really good about including their friends from school in their prayer. Marin's key friends include Kate, Carla, Brady, Tanner, and Coltrane.
Emmy's key friends include Kristin, Megan, Shelby, Holden, and Teegan.

When Emmy wants to push Marin's buttons, she will interrupt the prayer and name some of Marin's friends, which puts Marin directly into meltdown. "No....he's my Coltrane....sob, sob, sob". And Emmy just sits there with this devilish look of satisfaction on her face.

Marin finally learned to turn the tables. Upon completion of her meltdown, she starts saying the prayer and names Emmy's friends, which puts Emmy directly into meltdown. "Don't do dat....my Megan....sob, sob, sob.....my Holden"

Marin the FuzzBuster

I was pulled over by a cop for speeding. You know the routine. Cop raps window. I roll window down. Hand him my paperwork. He scowls and gets on the radio.

Marin was in the backseat, in a great mood, practicing her English. She's saying "Good Job!" "Do it Again!" "Good Job".

The cop shoots me a dirty look because he thinks Marin is wising off at him. I explain the situation to the cop. And now Marin realizes there is somebody standing right outside my door. So she cranes her neck around her sunblocker, sees the cop, and with the cutest expression on her face says to him " Thank you too much! I miss you!"

The cop burst out laughing and gives me a warning to slow down.

I definately owe Marin an ice cream cone for this one.

Sweet Mammaries

Yesterday Emmy woke up a little prematurely, but too close to wake up time for us to try to get her back to sleep. So we let her into our bed for a few minutes and then she lay on the bathroom rug wrapped in her blanket while Colleen showered.

When Colleen finished and opened the shower curtain, Emmy just stared at her bug eyed. She had never seen Colleen naked before. She pointed at Colleen's breasts and asked "What is that?" While Colleen was stalling for time thinking of an answer, Emmy pipes in "Baby crying. Yummy."

A few minutes later, I was in my closet in my underwear looking for pants. Emmy walks in, latches on to my package with both hands, and pinches with all her strength. "Daddy. What is that? What is that?" I saw every star in the galaxy, sucked in my breath, and quickly reached down to pull her wrists away. Emmy asks in her sweet little angelic voice "Hurt Daddy? Bleeding? Band Aid?"

Speak and Spell

The girls are getting good enough at English, and they are so ridiculously attentive, that Colleen and I found we can no longer speak freely and assume we will not be understood. So we resort to spelling key words or parts of key words when we want to discuss something without the girls understanding.

Fast forward to this morning at the breakfast table. Colleen asked Marin what she wants for breakfast. Marin responds with "peanut butter, toast, mqrxy".

I look at Colleen like 'what is she saying?'. And Colleen explains to me that is Marin's new gig. She just spits out letters to pretend she is spelling because she hears us do that and Marin does not want Emmy to know what she is saying.

Policeman Potty

You know those portable toilets you see at constructions sites or big festivals? Well there's a ton of construction in Maine this spring and these potties are everywhere. The girls are curious about everything, so they asked about these. Not knowing how to get into all the details given their limited vocabulary, Colleen and I shorthanded it by explaining they are policemans pottys.

Fast forward to last weekend. We are driving home from a graduation party in Bangor (about 140 miles north of here) and Meron decides she has to go to the bathroom. Those of you familiar with that stretch of road know there's a restroom about every 30 minutes. Luckily we were just coming up on an exit ramp, so I took it, thinking I would find a wooded place to take Meron off road.

At the top of the exit ramp, Meron suddenly exclaims "Policemans Potty!!". and insisted she must use it. I'm thinking this is a real blessing, until I opened the car door and caught a whiff. It was just rank. But the seat was clean and it had paper, so it was go time.

Meron was so proud of herself using a Policemans Potty. She got back into the car and started bragging about it to Emmy. So, of course, Emmy had to go potty. Egad. Pass me some oxygen.

So Emmy gets to the potty, opens the door, catches a whiff, screams 'Yucky!!", and decides she does not have to go potty after all. Amen.