Kids

My kids were being just terrible last weekend. They would not obey, they were disrepectful, they were just down right buttheads.

Sunday morning, as I was about to get into the shower, I asked them to please get ready quickly, because I had to speak first thing at church, and I could NOT be late. I suggested what they might wear and said I would do something with their hair.

They seemed to hear me. They are intelligent children.

Well, sure enough, 30 minutes later, as I came out into the living room dressed and ready to go -- expecting everyone else to be ready to go as well -- there they were.

In their pajamas.
On the sofa.
Watching SpongeBob.

I went directly to the kitchen counter where I grabbed a wooden spoon, turned on my heel, came right back to the sofa and spatted them quickly telling them as calmly as I could that it was time they learned to obey and think of others.

Then I said to my husband, "You deal with the little turds. I'm going to church!"

Then I left.

I prayed all the way to church that God would help me calm down and be in the right frame of mind to worship.

Just as I was finishing up my part in the beginning of the church service, I saw the three of them slinking into the back of the room. The girls looked like ragamuffins, with ratty hair and mismatched clothes. Jamie looked exhausted.

I grabbed my stuff and headed to sit with them in the back row as another song started. Caroline (9) came up to me and said, "Mom, I'm really sorry about how I acted last night and I'm sorry I didn't mind you this morning. I will be better."

Aw, my sweet little girl.

I hugged her and said that I appreciated that and that I accepted her apology. We were smiling and happy.

Then Eliza, my 5-year-old, said, "Mom, pretend like I said that."

Caroline

This is Caroline Grace Carey, 8 years old.

The Memoirs of an 8-year-old

Here is what it says:

The Things That I Like

My name is Caroline Carey and this story is about me! The color of my eyes are hazel and my hair is blondish brown. The color of my eyes are the color of my dads and the color of my hair is the color of my moms. I love bright green because I love to be bright and fun! My favorite sport is football because I like to tackle my dad and throw the ball to my dad. Wrighting is my favorite subject because I just love to wright storys and my mom says I wright really good storys. I am going to be a auther when I grow up. I was very proud of myself when I threw a ball so hard that my dad could not catch the ball. I was born in Helena Montana, but my dad was born in Chicago and my mom was born in Mississippi. My mom and dad met in Missoula. Know what makes me laugh? Jello. Jello is the funnyist thing on earth! It makes me laugh so hard! I eat it all the time. Pigs are my favorite animal. I love there oinks and I love there cute little curly tails. They are so cute. I like the song Bubbley Toes by Jack Jonson because it is modern and has a very nice tune. I like the show Scooby Doo because the gang always has mysteries to solve and it is very funny. I hope you learned alot about Caroline Carey.
The End




Isn't she awesome?

But, for the record: We NEVER eat Jello. I mean never.

Our Tuesday Morning Debacle

This is J.E.B.

"Do I have thumthing in my teeth?"

Mother-Daughter Book Club

My 8-year-old daughter Caroline and I decided to start a book group. I came up with the idea after giving up on forcing her to read her required five hours a month for her third grade class. She's a hopeless extrovert, so sitting alone quietly reading is the last thing she ever wants to do, no matter how good the book is.

We kicked off the book club with a "Mother-Daughter Get-Together" at our house Friday night. We sent invitations to 12 mothers and their daughters; and six showed up. That added up to 14 people in our small house, half of whom are 8 years old and were running and screaming with zero interest in discussing our ideas for the book group.

Finally, I rounded up the girls and told everyone about what I envisioned we could do with and for our daughters. How I hoped that looking forward to the group meeting each month would inspire Caroline, as well as their daughters, to stick with a book to its conclusion. How I hoped that with all her friends reading the same book, maybe they would talk about it together during lunch or something. Jenn mentioned how she liked the idea because she wanted the accountability to spend that time with her daughter, which I was also thinking. This would give us a reason to read together and take advantage of opportunities to discuss issues the book brings up between the two of us.

The mothers listened. The girls grabbed some snacks and towels and ran outside with shrieks and shrills headed straight for the horse trough we use as a pool.

A few of the moms got sidetracked and paired off to have their own conversations, so the rest of us made some executive decisions. Those were: 1.) The idea is a good one, and it is worth a try. 2.) We won't expect too much from our children. Fifteen minutes may be all they can stand for book discussions. 3.) We would meet next month at Jennifer and Jaci's house. 4.) We would read Because of Winn Dixie.

I sent around a sign-up sheet to get everyone's phone numbers and e-mail addresses; and before the sheet was completed, two girls came into the house sobbing huge, dramatic, heaving kinds of bawling sobs. One was feeling left out, and she needed her mom to come outside to comfort her. Caroline was being accused of "being mean," and that just broke her heart. All of them were soaked to the bones and shivering in the nippy fall weather, dripping on my floor. None of them had permission to get wet, so I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable, myself, since my assistant hostess, Caroline, was the ring leader of the rebellious uprising.

It was truly a disaster.

Perhaps the idea of a mother-daughter book group was a few years premature?


I'll keep you posted.