annie blog

Thoughts of a Four Year Old
Earlier today, my youngest came up to me and asked me,”Mom, are you a damsel?” I wonder why he wanted to know? Perhaps he thought I was in distress?

Later, we were leaving and he noticed some workmen were down in the manhole by our house. He turned excitedly to me and earnestly said, “Ooooo, I hope that they can pull a crocodile out of there!!”

I suppose that everything is possible in his world. Though, I know that it is more likely for a crocodile to be in the manhole than it is for me to be a damsel. My damsel days are over, unfortunately, my days of distress are not.

Such is life.

Thoughts of a Four Year Old
Earlier today, my youngest came up to me and asked me,”Mom, are you a damsel?” I wonder why he wanted to know? Perhaps he thought I was in distress?

Later, we were leaving and he noticed some workmen were down in the manhole by our house. He turned excitedly to me and earnestly said, “Ooooo, I hope that they can pull a crocodile out of there!!”

I suppose that everything is possible in his world. Though, I know that it is more likely for a crocodile to be in the manhole than it is for me to be a damsel. My damsel days are over, unfortunately, my days of distress are not.

Such is life.

Thoughts of a Four Year Old
Earlier today, my youngest came up to me and asked me,”Mom, are you a damsel?” I wonder why he wanted to know? Perhaps he thought I was in distress?

Later, we were leaving and he noticed some workmen were down in the manhole by our house. He turned excitedly to me and earnestly said, “Ooooo, I hope that they can pull a crocodile out of there!!”

I suppose that everything is possible in his world. Though, I know that it is more likely for a crocodile to be in the manhole than it is for me to be a damsel. My damsel days are over, unfortunately, my days of distress are not.

Such is life.

Exclamations
My four year old was frustrated today. He exclaimed, “That’s the LAST STRAW!!” And then he added, “And the LAST CUP!!!”

I guess that the last straw by itself just wasn’t enough.

Exclamations
My four year old was frustrated today. He exclaimed, “That’s the LAST STRAW!!” And then he added, “And the LAST CUP!!!”

I guess that the last straw by itself just wasn’t enough.

Exclamations
My four year old was frustrated today. He exclaimed, “That’s the LAST STRAW!!” And then he added, “And the LAST CUP!!!”

I guess that the last straw by itself just wasn’t enough.

Caves……Legs…..Soul Trains
On school days, the first boy that I get from school is my oldest son. We have between 10 and 15 minutes to talk and for him to eat a snack in the van while we wait to pick up my youngest from preschool. Those minutes are falling into a pattern of sorts, conversation-wise.

First off, he asks about his drink. Then he asks about his snack and, just to check, finds out what we’re having for dinner. Food is his favorite thing, right now. After that, he usually talks about today’s weather and then quizzes me about the weather that we’ll be having later in the evening and perhaps on the following day. I keep telling him that I don’t check the weather but he asks me anyway. And, of course, I try to get him to tell me about his school day.

Now, just because these conversations follow a pattern doesn’t mean that they are in any way boring to me. Yesterday, I laughed all the way from his school to his brother’s school. I should write all of it down, but I usually don’t. This little nugget is one of our exchanges that I actually remembered to record.

(Background information: J had somehow gotten his legs dirty at school. Not smudgy dirty but sort of streaky dirty — sort of like writing, almost.)

J: Mom, I got these marks on my legs today at school.
Me: Well, don’t worry about them. We’ll just get them clean in your shower tonight.
J: Mom!! (he continued in a very excited half whisper like an archeologist making an incredible discovery) These markings look just like the ones on the CAVE WALLS!!

I didn’t ask which cave or what the markings said. Now I’m wishing that I had.

Just minutes after this, we passed an old train station.

J: Mom, is that a train station?
Me: Yes, but they don’t use it anymore. People used to ride from here to downtown to work. Now they just drive their cars or use Metrolink.
J: So, it’s a train station…but is it a Soul Train station?

Caves……Legs…..Soul Trains
On school days, the first boy that I get from school is my oldest son. We have between 10 and 15 minutes to talk and for him to eat a snack in the van while we wait to pick up my youngest from preschool. Those minutes are falling into a pattern of sorts, conversation-wise.

First off, he asks about his drink. Then he asks about his snack and, just to check, finds out what we’re having for dinner. Food is his favorite thing, right now. After that, he usually talks about today’s weather and then quizzes me about the weather that we’ll be having later in the evening and perhaps on the following day. I keep telling him that I don’t check the weather but he asks me anyway. And, of course, I try to get him to tell me about his school day.

Now, just because these conversations follow a pattern doesn’t mean that they are in any way boring to me. Yesterday, I laughed all the way from his school to his brother’s school. I should write all of it down, but I usually don’t. This little nugget is one of our exchanges that I actually remembered to record.

(Background information: J had somehow gotten his legs dirty at school. Not smudgy dirty but sort of streaky dirty — sort of like writing, almost.)

J: Mom, I got these marks on my legs today at school.
Me: Well, don’t worry about them. We’ll just get them clean in your shower tonight.
J: Mom!! (he continued in a very excited half whisper like an archeologist making an incredible discovery) These markings look just like the ones on the CAVE WALLS!!

I didn’t ask which cave or what the markings said. Now I’m wishing that I had.

Just minutes after this, we passed an old train station.

J: Mom, is that a train station?
Me: Yes, but they don’t use it anymore. People used to ride from here to downtown to work. Now they just drive their cars or use Metrolink.
J: So, it’s a train station…but is it a Soul Train station?

Caves……Legs…..Soul Trains
On school days, the first boy that I get from school is my oldest son. We have between 10 and 15 minutes to talk and for him to eat a snack in the van while we wait to pick up my youngest from preschool. Those minutes are falling into a pattern of sorts, conversation-wise.

First off, he asks about his drink. Then he asks about his snack and, just to check, finds out what we’re having for dinner. Food is his favorite thing, right now. After that, he usually talks about today’s weather and then quizzes me about the weather that we’ll be having later in the evening and perhaps on the following day. I keep telling him that I don’t check the weather but he asks me anyway. And, of course, I try to get him to tell me about his school day.

Now, just because these conversations follow a pattern doesn’t mean that they are in any way boring to me. Yesterday, I laughed all the way from his school to his brother’s school. I should write all of it down, but I usually don’t. This little nugget is one of our exchanges that I actually remembered to record.

(Background information: J had somehow gotten his legs dirty at school. Not smudgy dirty but sort of streaky dirty — sort of like writing, almost.)

J: Mom, I got these marks on my legs today at school.
Me: Well, don’t worry about them. We’ll just get them clean in your shower tonight.
J: Mom!! (he continued in a very excited half whisper like an archeologist making an incredible discovery) These markings look just like the ones on the CAVE WALLS!!

I didn’t ask which cave or what the markings said. Now I’m wishing that I had.

Just minutes after this, we passed an old train station.

J: Mom, is that a train station?
Me: Yes, but they don’t use it anymore. People used to ride from here to downtown to work. Now they just drive their cars or use Metrolink.
J: So, it’s a train station…but is it a Soul Train station?

The Cookie Bandit
In the mornings, when I’m busy getting the other boys ready for school, I sometimes lose track of my youngest. Then I remember that he’s a cookie bandit. I look in my pantry and I see this

or this.

BUSTED!!
Look at him sitting pretty as you please on my flour canister. He has no guilty feelings about the whole business, either. The little buster helps himself.