Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Spelling Southern

We live in Raleigh, but we don't have strong southern accents. At least I don't think so. We have friends that speak all out Southern, y'all reckon, but we really don't. So why. Why does my brilliant daughter who is reading above grade level want to spell southern?

Spelling Word: Doing
Her Spelling: Doin

Spelling Word: Again
Her Spelling: Igin

Spelling Word: Done
Her Spelling: Dun

Over and over she'll use an "u" instead of an "o." You know. Luv you. Sung a song.

Do other kids run into dialect problems in their spelling? What words or patterns do you see and where do you live?

Monday, May 21, 2012

Friday, May 11, 2012

Early Mother's Day

There are lots of ways to celebrate being a mother. Many kids help their mom's celebrate by giving them a little something special.

A heart sharped rock.

A play dough Valentine creation.

A fingerprint flower card at Mother's Day.

On my desk, on my dresser, hanging in the kitchen. There are all fantastic gifts that I have near me each day.From my sweet, artistic daughter.

My son. My son has his own ways to make me feel special. So far, none of them have been art projects. (I confess I haven't done as many projects with him as I did with her at 17 months, but he has zero interest.)

This week he shared a smorgasbord of bodily fluids with me. In one morning. One morning.

It started with a soaking wet bed and a bath. Not fun, but routine enough.

Not even 10 minutes later when he was dry and dressed we headed downstairs for breakfast. I mixed up some orange juice water mix and he walked around sipping his "uice" while I started making eggs. Started.

Then I heard a spill. It sounded like a cup getting dumped out on the floor. Followed by "up-oh." I though for sure my clever child had figured out how to get the lid off his sippy cup. I looked for the cup. It was on the counter and still had juice in it. I checked the fridge. Nothing missing.

Then I looked again. There was juice on his shirt and shorts.

It wasn't a cup getting dumped out. It was his stomach. Dumping out the juice. On the highchair. On the floor. On the table.

Change clothes. More cleanup. Highchair outside and hose it off. Mopping. Make eggs. Make toast.

For some reason the kid still wanted to eat.

Fast forward another 10 minutes. Cue the bloody lip. Wipe with a tissue. Say a thank you prayer that the second shirt of day is navy so the blood doesn't show.

I don't even know where ti came from. Boys seem to attract them. He is 17 months and it was his fourth one. Fourth.

He had been out of bed for 45 minutes. Three bodily fluids and it wasn't even 8 a.m.

What a treat.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Don't Eat Out of the Trash and Other Recent Lessons

We've reached the stage of life where every day is a new lesson to teach Little Man. More than the how to hold a toy or sit up - not that those aren't important - but some of the really important life lessons. The things that make you a polite suburb kid. The types of lessons that would make my grandma proud.

Lesson 1: Don't eat out of the trash can.

Simple enough. Everyone over the age of three understands about germs and other cooties that are on trash that we don't need in our bodies. Toddlers. Well, they are different. LM is so proud to help clean his plate off into the trash can after dinner, and to toss his wet diaper into the diaper pail. But sometimes when he spots something tasty (think fruit snack that he just dropped on the floor by accident and was then tossed out by a grown up) he just has to reach for it. Past the egg shells from breakfast and the foam tray that the chicken was on a few minutes earlier. Yuck.

The problem is worse when the trash is close to being full and its easy to spot things on the top. Lesson for parents - take the trash out when its about two-thirds of the way full.

The lesson was de-railed slightly when Big Girl asked about the guy that was pulling food out of the trash last time she visited my office. "How observant of you," I say. And refocus on the trashcan in our kitchen and the manners that I expect her to use.

Lesson 2: The couch is for sitting. The chair too.

Last week my ambitious toddler learned how to lift one knee up high enough to pull himself onto the couch. Getting to the couch was immediately followed by jumping. Hands on the back and bouncing as high as possible.

He got two warnings. The standard, "No. No. We don't jump on the couch. You can get hurt." Plopped back on the ground to jump up again. Then it was to think about it (a.k.a. timeout). One minute for 1 year-old.

As soon as he was free he tried the chair. The process repeated for various pieces of furniture. He had to check that the rules were the same for each piece of furniture. They are.

Two hours later I told BG that her best friend was going to spend the night. Cue jumping on the couch by her. Cue me being frustrated. "Why did you jump on the couch?"

"Well he did and he didn't get in trouble till the second time. So, I thought I could get a free pass too." Nice try. I really admire the cunning thought process.

What lessons have you been teaching recently. Do older siblings at other houses get in the way of teaching the younger ones something, or am I just super lucky? I'd like to hear how you handle it.