Anyone who knows my baby knows that she loves her mommy! She clings to my arm with tears in her eyes when she senses a pass-off. She brightens up and bounces when I walk into the room. She stops crying every time I pick her up. (Manipulative, much?)
So imagine my surprise yesterday when I left Julia with my mom for a few minutes while I helped the older children prepare for soccer practice. I returned after 15 minutes. When I walked into the room, Julia spied me. She looked at me with growing panic. She glanced at Mimi. She glanced back at me. She glanced at Mimi. Then, she opened up. Wailing and sobbing. I could hardly take it.
But Mimi couldn't take it at all. She swept down and picked up the baby...
Who immediately stopped crying.
(Isn't that my job?!)
When Mimi tried to pass her to her loving mother, the baby tightened her grip on Mimi's arm and just wailed louder. We were baffled.
Then, thankfully, Mimi thought of something. Every time she keeps Julia, she feeds her a banana. I don't know why or how it started, but it's a pattern that apparently Julia now expects, thank you very much.
That child ate her banana, then willingly and happily accompanied me back to our house. Hilarious.
It's like my own little Pavlov's Dogs experiment.
(Manipulative, much? Mwahaha!)
I'm about the business of raising godly children. So far, God has blessed us with six of them! My husband owns his own business, and I'm fortunate enough to stay at home with the kiddos. If you're looking for deep philosophy on this blog, you're out of luck. If you'd prefer random tales of childhood tomfoolery, stick around!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The mind of a poet
Communicating with a three-year-old isn't always a breeze. I understand the twins about 75% of the time--understand the words that are coming out of their mouths, that is! Sometimes, even after deciphering the words, I still don't have a clue what they want.
For example, yesterday, Tyler came up to me crying. "Cut the grass off my strawberries!" he pleaded. I repeated him with a question on my face. Then it came to me. The green grass. The cap of the strawberry. It's like 11th-grade English all over again. Interpreting the metaphors.
Just after that, Tyler buried his head in the fridge again looking for yogurt. I hollered at him from another room, "It's on the door!" He closed the fridge and skipped right on over to the back door. Puzzled, he looked at me and said, "I don't see it here!"
I promise, I have never, not even once, stored yogurt anywhere near the back door. I did leave some in a cooler at Shelby Farms one day, but that's another story all together.
They say that puzzles are good for your brain, to prevent dementia and Alzheimer's issues in old(er) age. I'm claiming Tyler as my daily puzzle. If you've got a kid with the mind of a poet, send him over. We'd have lots of fun.
Almost as much fun as 11th-grade English class.
For example, yesterday, Tyler came up to me crying. "Cut the grass off my strawberries!" he pleaded. I repeated him with a question on my face. Then it came to me. The green grass. The cap of the strawberry. It's like 11th-grade English all over again. Interpreting the metaphors.
Just after that, Tyler buried his head in the fridge again looking for yogurt. I hollered at him from another room, "It's on the door!" He closed the fridge and skipped right on over to the back door. Puzzled, he looked at me and said, "I don't see it here!"
I promise, I have never, not even once, stored yogurt anywhere near the back door. I did leave some in a cooler at Shelby Farms one day, but that's another story all together.
They say that puzzles are good for your brain, to prevent dementia and Alzheimer's issues in old(er) age. I'm claiming Tyler as my daily puzzle. If you've got a kid with the mind of a poet, send him over. We'd have lots of fun.
Almost as much fun as 11th-grade English class.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
background
