guest blogger

I've come to notice over the years of blog reading that most blogs worth reading will have guest bloggers. So in order to make my blog worth reading I have my first guest blogger. Tonight's guest is my husband Adam. He is the father of my children and all around great guy. I've asked him to write this tale down because 1. I was at yoga when the events took place and 2. I'm lazy and instead of typing while he narrates what happened I asked if he would just type it for me. Which just goes to show you that he really is a GREAT guy. 

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This evening, our four-year-old Line sat down next to me on our big green chair.  Typically, our small Rat Terrier, Pepito, sees this as an opportunity to jump up and snuggle in between these two Elfstrand males; this night was no different.  As Pepito leapt over the four-year-old and started conducting the dog ritual of dizzying himself (by turning around multiple times in a circular motion), he stopped briefly to sniff our four-year-old's ear.  Line jerked away quickly, responding to Pepito with, "Hey, Peppy...stop saying that!  Stop saying that you are a seven-year-old girl."

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As Adam was typing on the computer Line came out of his room when he was suppose to be sleeping.  He told me he couldn't go to sleep because he was afraid of the dark. I told him that was fine he could stay up all night while it was dark and everyone else was sleeping.  Then when the morning came he could sleep with the light. The rest of the family would be up playing and having fun while he slept because he was too afraid to sleep in the dark. Once I was done telling him my solution to his problem I asked if this was a good plan. He said no and said he would now be going to sleep. 

let's pretend to be dead and other fun stuff my boys like to play

One day while my boys were riding their bikes in the front of our house it became suspiciously quiet. As most of you already know, when kids are quiet if usually means that they are up to no good. For my boys when they are quiet it means that they are pretending to be in a tragic bike crash and are now deceased laying in a gutter. This is a visual representation of a mother's worst, most horrible nightmare.

Thank you boys for just pretending to die. And I'm happy to report that there is a lot less morbid pretend play on our lane these days.

i hate chickens

We put the boys to bed at 8:00 tonight; naturally, my six-year-old comes out of his room to ask us a very important question, one and a half hours later. It should be noted that our dog, Henry, is ten years old, Ollie is six, and Line is four.

Ollie: Dad was Line chasing the chicken when we got Henry at the farm?

Dad: No buddy Line wasn't born yet.

Ollie: But was Line chasing a chicken at the farm?

Line: (yells from bedroom) I HATE CHICKENS!

Dad: No Ollie, Line was not chasing the chicken.

(Ollie exits to bedroom)

Line: (overheard in bedroom) Ollie, I hate chickens.

babies are babies until they are not

My three-year-old had his birthday a week ago Saturday and he is no longer a baby, he hasn't been a baby for a while. In this past year I would ask my three-year-old who is now four if he wouldn't mind staying little forever. Once very seriously he looked into my eyes and promised, "Mama I promise I'm going to stay little forever." I didn't really believe him so just to make sure we started the growing reversal process. Several times a week I would place my hands upon his shoulders and push down. He would then shrink down to the ground, walking away on his knees. It was a fun little game we played throughout the year and even my six-year-old would ask if he could be stay little forever too.

As Line's fourth birthday was approaching we were in discussions of how to spend the day and most importantly what kind of cake to get. In the middle of our birthday plans I stopped abruptly and said, "Wait a second! Line. You can't turn four. You promised you were going to stay little forever." Very seriously he looked into my eyes and said, "But Mama, I changed my mind."