Yes, the fact that I am writing a post is a momentous occasion. It’s so shocking, in fact, that just talking to Booyor about it made him literally run into a wall.
So, I had such an insane day yesterday, we thought it worthy of a blog post. As a point of reference, I stay at home with our two daughters (4 and almost-5-months). Some days we all get up early (6:30am) to take Dad to work. Here is a run-down of my Thursday:
6:00am: Both girls are awake. One is telling me it’s time to get dressed. The other is talking to herself in her crib. I should’ve realized it was going to be an off day…
7:00am: We drop Dad off at work. The 4 year-old asks me, “Mom, what does 3 plus 3 makes?” I show her how to count it on your fingers, and ask her to tell me. She answers, “Three.” Then she asks about 2 plus 2. She figures it out on her own this time. So, then I’m curious and I ask her about 2 plus 3. “Five” comes the answer from the back seat. More computation ensues as we drive down the freeways… Basically, as long as the numbers she’s adding are 5 or less, she’s adding perfectly.
7:30am-1:30pm: Lots of time spent in time out. Mostly, the 4 year-old… a couple of times: me.
8:30am: She asks me to get her scissors so she can cut some paper. I say no.
8:31am: She asks me to get her scissors so she can cut some paper. I say no.
8:32am: She asks me to get her scissors so she can cut some paper. I say no.
8:35am: She has gotten her step stool and has one knee on the stove. (The scissors are kept on the hood above the stove. They earned that spot after a self-inflicted hair style.) I say no, and send her to time-out.
8:40am: She asks me to get her scissors so she can cut some paper. I say no.
10:00am: The baby is asleep. The girl is playing by herself. I decide it’s time for a shower! While showering, the phone rings. I decide to let the answering machine get it.
10:20am: As I am drying off, my 4 year-old comes in and says, “Mom, the phone was ringing while you were in the shower. It was your friend.” I’m floored, “You answered the phone???? Who was it?” Girl: “I don’t know.” Me: “What did you say when you answered it? Girl: “Hello.” Me: “What did they say?” Girl: “Who is this?” Me: “And what did you say?” Girl: “The [last name].” Me: “What did they say?” Girl: “They’ll call you back.” I have decided it’s time to teach her how to answer the phone.
10:45am: “Mom, come see what I wrote on the computer.” Now, my daughter loves words, and she loves typing on the computer. Just last week, she showed me how she could open up Microsoft Word. When I cam out to look, the font was about 28-point and it was turquoise. Yep, she knows how to do that, too!
11:30am: I decide to clean off the table for lunch. Yep, I found the scissors and several pieces of cut paper on the table. At least my daughter owns up to her disobedience, but I still sent her to her room until lunch was ready… or so I had plan.
11:45am: I opened the fridge. I discovered the leftover bacon (uncooked, mind you) sitting on top of its ziploc bag on the floor of the fridge. I called the little girl from her bedroom, “Did you eat this bacon???!!?” “Yes.” I proceeded to tell her that it was not okay to eat bacon that hadn’t been cooked, that next time she wants a snack she should get some string cheese. Then I notice a folded up paper towel on one of the shelves. I opened it up to find a piece of bacon. I asked her if she had done this. She said, “Yes. I was full.” “How many pieces did you eat?” She thought about it… “Three.” MY CHILD ATE 3 PIECES OF UNCOOKED BACON!!!
12:00pm: I called my mom to find out if my child could DIE from eating uncooked bacon. Good news: she should be okay. I’m watching for parasite-like symptoms. Great.
Thankfully, aside from many more disobedient episodes, she was done with the experiments for the day. (Until she went to cooking lessons with Grandma… but that was supervised experimenting.)
Days like that are always good for a story. I’m very glad that they only come rarely. I fully expect her to grow about 3 inches next week, just to throw me for another loop. Finally, at the request of my Japanese poetry-loving husband, Booyor:
The Haiku
Phone calls and bacon
make for an interesting
day with my daughter