@ the shoe store

The girl has 2 weeks left of school.  She outgrew her uniform shoes.  I don't want to invest $50 in good shoes she will outgrow or wear out playing dress-up over the summer.  So I scoped out the local payless before picking her up from school.  I put the acceptable shoes in her size all in a row (with the clerk's permission) with the least expensive ones in the middle.  As soon as we walked into the store, I told her she couldn't have those shoes.  I didn't even let her try them on until she'd tried on all of the other acceptable ones, and found them wanting.  A pair of glitter shoes had caught her eye.  I said, "NO, but I GUESS you can try on the other ones I said you couldn't have."  She was instantly in love with them and wanted no other shoes in the store.

Sometimes I think I may have a handle on this parenthood stuff, then reality comes along and knocks me on my bottom.

Mr. Coffee

I drink coffee.  I like drinking coffee.  It makes me feel somewhat human and makes me a nicer person.  This is why, although he hates the smell of it, my husband even procures coffee for me.

My 4-year-old son is hyper.  He is making noise, running, or climbing, constantly, sometimes all at the same time.  Yesterday, he asked for a little bit of my coffee.  I figured, "Oh, what the heck, he's going to preschool soon anyway."  He consumed it quickly and happily, and a few minutes later, he kind of calmed down a bit.  We actually got to the school a few minutes early because I anticipate a battle every day, and there wasn't one.

This morning, he asked for a CUP of coffee of his own.  So I said, OK.  I made him his own cup of coffee.  He was an unusually compliant, sweet boy almost all day (by about 6:30, he was crashing).

As he was getting ready for bed, I told him I really liked how well he behaved all day.  He said, "Was I good all day, because I listened, and was a much nicer boy?"  I said "Yeah."  And he said, "You're much nicer when you drink coffee too."

Potty Training update...

After less than a week, we were brave enough to go out without diapers.  She "gets" it, we've had no preventable accidents (meaning, when people hog the bathroom, sometimes babies can't hold it) in almost a week.  Now her favorite game is to say, "Mommy, I want potty" and watch me rush her in there, only to have her grunt a little and say, "All done," then repeat the process two minutes later.  

Definition of Irony:

The man and I went to a parenting seminar the night before last.  Yesterday my children were the worst behaved they have ever been in their entire lives.  We weren't even out, so it's not like I just expected them to be perfect.  I wonder if they were trying to help us use our new skills?