Molly's kindergarten play date was penciled onto our calendar for yesterday evening. However, after clicking on the weather tab of our local news station's website,I decided we wouldn't be partaking in the fun of meeting Molly's classmates for this coming year. The heat index was 104 degrees people. I might melt.
And then what would you do?
You'd miss me like crazy ... that's what!
Anyway, we did show up at the very end to make an appearance. Ya know, because we're losers like that. And get this ... Molly played the 'shy' card.
I KNOW!
Molly doesn't have a shy bone in her body ... I mean, to say Molly is shy, is like saying that Molly doesn't like to have her picture taken. It just doesn't make any sense.
So, after she performed her little bashful act, she finally hugs her very-soon-to-be teacher, who just happens to be the same teacher that guided my other three children into their school career ...
(Obviously Mrs. B. is a glutton for punishment, but still it's so cool that all four of my kids have had the same kindergarten teacher, huh? I thought so too!)
... and then runs off to play or bully the other children on the playground. I don't know which, because I wasn't watching. And then, her teacher turns to us and says, "She is so cute!"
Now, I'm not a psychic or anything ... but I'm pretty much guaranteeing that 'cute' will not be the word she uses to describe Molly a week from now.
Just sayin'.
Actual conversation that took place in my home this morning:
Molly: MOM! Emily just said she hated me.
Emily: I did NOT. I said I don't like you.
Molly: It's the same thing.
Emily: Get a clue. It's not even close to the same thing.
Molly: Oh yeah? Then what is the difference.
Emily: If I say one I get in a little trouble. If I say the other I get in BIG trouble. Duh.
Molly: MOM! Emily just said I was dumb.
Guest Blogger Today - My Step-Father aka PawPaw.
Why?
Well, he recently copied me on a story he shared with a friend. It was his recollection of a conversation that took place between him and Molly a couple weeks ago.
I asked him if I could share his version with you ... and he quickly granted me permission.
Good grief!
Too bad he couldn't have been so easy to persuade when it came to letting boys with pierced ears in our house. The ones who drove up with Tone Loc's 'Funky Cool Medina' ba-ba-ba-booming, giving reason for our windows to rattle. Ya know, back when I was 15 years old.
Just sayin' ... PAW PAW ...
Ahem.
So, anyway, we're stepping back again ... to early July ...
G-daughter no.4, tender age of five, and I were sitting on the sofa together early in the AM and I was reading to her, as is our habit when I'm visiting. She often rises early to snuggle and read.
As I read, she was feeling my hands, fascinated by the difference between my hand and hers. Arthritis has bent the 1st joint (distal phalanx) of three of my fingers, and she kept running her finger up and down them, feeling them. They don't feel any different, they're just bent.
Finally, she looks up at me and quietly asks, "What happened?" I explained about arthritis. She asked, "Do they hurt?" I told her that happens 'sometimes'.
Then, after a whole minute or so, she looked at me with this serious visage and asked, "Do you use these to pick your nose?"
This is not the kind of thing about which my laughter is able to be constrained, so I woke up the rest of the household that morning, I'm sure. During breaks for breath, I did explain that all fingers do that job equally well.
I do so love Molly.
Yesterday afternoon I glanced over at Molly and noticed her eye was a tiny bit swollen, along with a small welt that resembled a bug bit. I was not concerned, as we spent the entire evening the night before outside in a neighbors backyard ... along with approximately 1,394,502 pesky mosquitoes ... so the chance she was bitten was not a small one.
Complaining that it was a tad bit itchy, I dosed her up with some Benadryl and watched to make sure she kept her hands away from it ... and expected an early bedtime, like I do everytime she chews up one of those little purple tablets. Just sayin'.
Quite honestly, I just kinda blew it off and figured that she'd wake this morning and it would be gone. Ya know? Like any other bug bite. Any other place.
But it looks worse.
Like this:
Oops, I suppose you can't really see much from her self portrait that she drew of her and Emily after she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror.
So, check this out:
* * *
Has that ever happened to you or your kids? I mean, what the heck? Can a doctor do anything? Or does it just take time?
And yes, obviously I'm thinking that my Internet friends are all medical professionals. Why else would I be telling you all of this?
The amount of paper and art work that four children manage to bring home over the last few days of school is impressive. Actually it's BEYOND impressive. They've been out of school for four days now, and I'm still sifting through the pile. I would just dump the whole thing in the recycle bin and call it done, but I learn so much about my children ... that I may not have ever known otherwise.
I mean ... I would have never guessed Molly's dream job:
Who knew?
Why do children insist on saying words that they KNOW are wrong? They are FULLY AWARE the letters aren't supposed to be formed and spewed from their mouths, but act as though they have absolutely no control over the matter.
And then, once the words have indeed escaped from their lips, and soap or tabasco has been generously poured atop their kool-aid stained tongues, they do it all over again.
That brings me to Molly. Good grief, I will honestly be extremely surprised if this little 5 year old of mine isn't the death of me yet ...
Why?
Well, we were at a recent ball tournament. Right there at the playground there was an old time drinking fountain. Ya know, the kind I used to drink out of as a kid and think it was an actual luxury to have it situated right there for me to use ... while I played. Seriously. Children have no clue there was life before bottled water. I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, Molly was curious about the contraption that held an endless supply of H20, and she cautiously leaned over and took a sip. "BLAH! This water SUCKS!" she blurted, using her outside voice to it's fullest potential.
Shocked and praying that no one heard my sweet angel, I reprimanded her immediately, "MOLLY! That is NOT NICE! DO NOT talk like that, do you hear me?"
It's not often that Molly looks remorseful when being held accountable for her actions, but this time she actually did.
Really.
I was pleased that she seemed to realize that "SUCKS" was not a word I wanted coming out her mouth and that what she said was incredibly wrong. Her shoulders slumped and her bottom lip drooped and turned into a frown. She looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes and said, "You're right Mommy! I'm sorry I said that. I'm sure that water was trying to be the best water it could be."
Good thought ... but she totally missed my point.
