Saturday, 27 June 2009
English Life Lesson #8,623
When you buy a flavored anything - for example, lollipops, gummy vitamins, Starbursts, or ice lollies (popsicles) - and you see one with a purple wrapper, be certain that it's not grape flavored. It is black-currant flavored, and rather disgusting.
Friday, 26 June 2009
The Third Child
It's official. Well, it's actually been official for about four years now, but I have a "third child." And many stories to back it up.
But first let me say, I love my baby-who-is-no-longer-a-baby-but-a-big-four-year-old. What joy I get from this little guy - not only is he cute as can be, but he is the best free entertainment a family could ask for.
Aidan comes up with stories and thoughts that I never could have imagined a 4-year old could think of. Certainly my first two children (who are much more 'Boline' than they are 'Owen') never said/did such things.
And seriously, how cute is this kid? He dressed himself and wanted to play "Flutterby" with Gillian's fairy wings:
Aidan often reminds me of my own little sister, Blythe, who is also a third child. He has the same tendencies for face-making and free-thinking that Blythe frequently displayed.
Yesterday, Aidan was sad (crying sad) that I didn't make him a cheesy egg for breakfast rather than the porridge that was already made and sitting in front of him. There he sat in his chair, crying sadly into his arms telling me how sad he was. So I told him that he should perhaps not be sad anymore and eat his porridge or we wouldn't be able to go to the zoo with Aunt Caitlin and Lael. At which point he burst into a fresh frenzy of tears and informed me that if we couldn't go to the zoo he would be "sad forEVER." It was pathetic. And funny. I laughed. How could I not?
Aidan is the kid I have to tell not to throw rocks at the ducks in the pond.
Or at the car.
Or at the people.
And please do not rub the cat's tail like that - she WILL bite you. Or scratch you. Aidan, please do not stand or sit on your window sill. I know it's fun to look out and your bottom fits there perfectly, but it's not safe.
You are not nearly nineteen.
You have not yet been seven, either. .... "When I was seven, I used to play war with Joshua."
What took the cake, though, when I REALLY and TRULY knew that Aidan had blossomed into his third-childedness, was when we were having our morning prayer time one morning last week.
This will probably mean nothing to anyone but Megan and Blythe. But they will truly understand and I must blog about it.
Every morning I read to the children from a children's Bible and then we have prayer time together. During the reading time one morning last week Aidan decided that he needed to go to the bathroom. So he went. And I continued reading. And then it was time to pray.
Everyone gets a turn to pray - we pray for whoever is on our hearts and also for our day together. Aidan usually wants to pray for Mommy, Daddy, Gillian, Joshua, Aidan, and Jed. And often the baby in Jed's mommy's tummy. And sometimes his friend Winston. This morning was no different. Except he was in the bathroom. On the toilet.
And as we prayed around our little table, it came to be Aidan's turn. And so he prayed. Calling out to us. From the toilet. Oh how I smiled as I remembered Blythe doing the EXACT same thing during prayer circle when we were little and living in Springfield. And as soon as prayer circle was over, Blythe finished up in the bathroom and came out. No different for Aidan last week.
And by the way, since he's four now, he can do so many more things - I mean, he is SO BIG now. Which is why, apparently, it's okay to ask Mommy if we're there yet about a million times in the half hour it takes to get to Aunt Caitlin's house. When I finally said, Aidan, why are you asking me over and over again if we're there, yet?
Because I'm four now, Mommy.
But first let me say, I love my baby-who-is-no-longer-a-baby-but-a-big-four-year-old. What joy I get from this little guy - not only is he cute as can be, but he is the best free entertainment a family could ask for.
Aidan comes up with stories and thoughts that I never could have imagined a 4-year old could think of. Certainly my first two children (who are much more 'Boline' than they are 'Owen') never said/did such things.
And seriously, how cute is this kid? He dressed himself and wanted to play "Flutterby" with Gillian's fairy wings:
Aidan often reminds me of my own little sister, Blythe, who is also a third child. He has the same tendencies for face-making and free-thinking that Blythe frequently displayed.
Yesterday, Aidan was sad (crying sad) that I didn't make him a cheesy egg for breakfast rather than the porridge that was already made and sitting in front of him. There he sat in his chair, crying sadly into his arms telling me how sad he was. So I told him that he should perhaps not be sad anymore and eat his porridge or we wouldn't be able to go to the zoo with Aunt Caitlin and Lael. At which point he burst into a fresh frenzy of tears and informed me that if we couldn't go to the zoo he would be "sad forEVER." It was pathetic. And funny. I laughed. How could I not?
Aidan is the kid I have to tell not to throw rocks at the ducks in the pond.
Or at the car.
Or at the people.
And please do not rub the cat's tail like that - she WILL bite you. Or scratch you. Aidan, please do not stand or sit on your window sill. I know it's fun to look out and your bottom fits there perfectly, but it's not safe.
You are not nearly nineteen.
You have not yet been seven, either. .... "When I was seven, I used to play war with Joshua."
What took the cake, though, when I REALLY and TRULY knew that Aidan had blossomed into his third-childedness, was when we were having our morning prayer time one morning last week.
This will probably mean nothing to anyone but Megan and Blythe. But they will truly understand and I must blog about it.
Every morning I read to the children from a children's Bible and then we have prayer time together. During the reading time one morning last week Aidan decided that he needed to go to the bathroom. So he went. And I continued reading. And then it was time to pray.
Everyone gets a turn to pray - we pray for whoever is on our hearts and also for our day together. Aidan usually wants to pray for Mommy, Daddy, Gillian, Joshua, Aidan, and Jed. And often the baby in Jed's mommy's tummy. And sometimes his friend Winston. This morning was no different. Except he was in the bathroom. On the toilet.
And as we prayed around our little table, it came to be Aidan's turn. And so he prayed. Calling out to us. From the toilet. Oh how I smiled as I remembered Blythe doing the EXACT same thing during prayer circle when we were little and living in Springfield. And as soon as prayer circle was over, Blythe finished up in the bathroom and came out. No different for Aidan last week.
And by the way, since he's four now, he can do so many more things - I mean, he is SO BIG now. Which is why, apparently, it's okay to ask Mommy if we're there yet about a million times in the half hour it takes to get to Aunt Caitlin's house. When I finally said, Aidan, why are you asking me over and over again if we're there, yet?
Because I'm four now, Mommy.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I've been getting a lot of flak for not updating lately. Part of it is that I've been EXTREMELY busy. Home schooling, parties the last four weekends, kids' activities, babies to be born soon - oh wait, that's Caitlin! But we are all on edge just waiting for the phone call!
I have been busy - and knackered. I'm diligently rising at about 6 AM to run - 5 days a week, usually. Also, this time of year the sun is fully risen at about 4:15 AM. And doesn't set until about 10:30. That is exhausting.
The other part of it is there is nothing terribly interesting to blog about. I feel like it's all old news now. We've lived here nearly TWO YEARS, and my observations are not really relevant any more. They're not even truly observations, actually, more like irritations.
Also, it could be that I'm becoming more English myself. I took the Facebook Euro-personality test and my score proved that I was British. I nearly gagged. Or was I chuffed? But it may be true. I do appreciate certain things about the English. I love the queuing. I love the organized nature of it.
I also love the hardiness of the English. How no matter what the weather, you will see the English out walking or playing in the park. That is totally brill.
I love some of the humor. The dry, non-dirty kind. Because lots of English humor is very dirty. It's very difficult finding a humorous greeting card that is not filthy. That is why you all have received very bland "Happy Birthday" cards from us the past two years.
I DID save the instructions from our new coffee grinder. I was going to throw them away, but I glanced through them, and this caught my eye:
'GRIND SIZE:
1. You need a fine grind for espresso coffee, medium grind for filter
coffee, and coarse grind for percolators and cafetieres.
2. Grind in 5 second bursts, watch the grind through the lid, stop when
it looks about right.
3. Saying "one hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three,
one hundred and four, one hundred and five" takes roughly 5 seconds.
4. This is best said in a firm, clear voice. Anyone watching will probably
realise you're timing something. If you say it to yourself, they'll
just see your lips moving and jump to conclusions. You could lose
friends that way.
5. Don't grind for more than a minute. It won't do the coffee or the
grinder any good.'
So you see, some amusing humor, good for a chuckle. And a blog post.
I have been busy - and knackered. I'm diligently rising at about 6 AM to run - 5 days a week, usually. Also, this time of year the sun is fully risen at about 4:15 AM. And doesn't set until about 10:30. That is exhausting.
The other part of it is there is nothing terribly interesting to blog about. I feel like it's all old news now. We've lived here nearly TWO YEARS, and my observations are not really relevant any more. They're not even truly observations, actually, more like irritations.
Also, it could be that I'm becoming more English myself. I took the Facebook Euro-personality test and my score proved that I was British. I nearly gagged. Or was I chuffed? But it may be true. I do appreciate certain things about the English. I love the queuing. I love the organized nature of it.
I also love the hardiness of the English. How no matter what the weather, you will see the English out walking or playing in the park. That is totally brill.
I love some of the humor. The dry, non-dirty kind. Because lots of English humor is very dirty. It's very difficult finding a humorous greeting card that is not filthy. That is why you all have received very bland "Happy Birthday" cards from us the past two years.
I DID save the instructions from our new coffee grinder. I was going to throw them away, but I glanced through them, and this caught my eye:
'GRIND SIZE:
1. You need a fine grind for espresso coffee, medium grind for filter
coffee, and coarse grind for percolators and cafetieres.
2. Grind in 5 second bursts, watch the grind through the lid, stop when
it looks about right.
3. Saying "one hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three,
one hundred and four, one hundred and five" takes roughly 5 seconds.
4. This is best said in a firm, clear voice. Anyone watching will probably
realise you're timing something. If you say it to yourself, they'll
just see your lips moving and jump to conclusions. You could lose
friends that way.
5. Don't grind for more than a minute. It won't do the coffee or the
grinder any good.'
So you see, some amusing humor, good for a chuckle. And a blog post.
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