Today I had to kneel down on the floor to do something. I don't remember exactly what, but I think it involved convincing someone to put underwear back on.
Anyway, since I was down there, naturally a child decided to launch themselves on me, and then another decided that looked fun and joined in, until I had finally said "ow" the magic number of times and they released me.
Then they had to ask the question that I've answered many, many times, but which they still can't get their heads around: how can it be that Mommy is older than Daddy (by a whole year!) but that Daddy is stronger than Mommy?
(Daddy doesn't get all whiny just because he suddenly has 40 pounds of kid on his back. Daddy can carry two girls at once or sometimes even three girls at once. Daddy can even carry girls on the stairs. Not like Mommy, who says things like "my arms are tired" when she's only been carrying you for not even two minutes.)
Whenever they ask this question, I like to bring up the story of Aunt Snan. It is one of N and D's favorite stories. It goes like this: when Mommy and Aunt Snan were little, Mommy was bigger and faster than Aunt Snan because Mommy was older and taller. But then when they got older, Aunt Snan got taller than Mommy and practiced running a lot, and now Aunt Snan is much much faster and stronger than Mommy.
N interjected at this point and said, "Right, like how D is stronger than me!" But I don't think D is really stronger than her just yet - D just knows how to fight. And with very rare exceptions, N does not fight at all.
(I have not yet told the kids the story about how Aunt Snan used to be afraid to hit Mommy, but then when they got older, Aunt Snan realized that now she can beat Mommy up with both hands tied behind her back (an ability she fortunately never had cause to use, as clever Mommy had come to the same realization years earlier...). Maybe I should tell that story, to Adi if to nobody else. Forewarned is forearmed).
****
N is also too honest for her own good. Today Viggy had to tell off N, D, and two of their friends who were walking home from school with us for running too far ahead.
Viggy: It's not OK to run so far ahead that we can't see you. You were so far that you couldn't even hear me telling you to stop!
N: No, we did hear you tell us to stop! But when we heard we just ran faster! *swings her arms happily to pantomime fast running*
(N's friend pulls N in for a huddle)
N: Oh. I mean that we only heard, like, a little of sound. But we didn't know.
****
I had to go to Adi's school today for a meeting with the school counselor over why Adi was missing notebooks from her bookbag earlier in the year. Fortunately, I've learned something since encountering the same problem last year, so instead of saying, "She's usually missing 20% of her school stuff? That's amazing! Man, I'm almost 30 and I'm still usually missing about half my school stuff," I said, "Oh, you're right, yes, of course, I'll be checking her backpack every night."
And when the counselor expressed surprise that Adi sometimes uses a notebook meant for one subject to take notes for a different subject, because "that is not normal for children. Children don't usually do that," I managed not to laugh, or to show her the paper I'd been working on while waiting outside her office - which was covered with a mix of attempts at proofs for math class, the grocery list, and random notes to myself.
(Poor Adi is actually not really like me at all in this regard. It's just that they have about 25 different notebooks, folders and workbooks to keep track of, with different combinations required on different days. I think she's doing very well, considering. Certainly the progress "we've" been making on the issue is more down to her abilities than my own.
OK, she's maybe inherited a teeny tiny bit of myairheadedness tendency to be distracted by more important things. Because when the counselor called her in so that she could see her bookbag, some of the notebooks in it weren't even hers.)
Anyway. Between that and work, my "smile and nod" muscles have been getting quite a workout. Which, I'll admit, they could definitely use. My overdeveloped "open your big mouth and say something 'clever' that will just get you into way more trouble than you're currently in" muscles are usually so quick to respond to any new challenge that the others have been rather neglected.
Anyway, since I was down there, naturally a child decided to launch themselves on me, and then another decided that looked fun and joined in, until I had finally said "ow" the magic number of times and they released me.
Then they had to ask the question that I've answered many, many times, but which they still can't get their heads around: how can it be that Mommy is older than Daddy (by a whole year!) but that Daddy is stronger than Mommy?
(Daddy doesn't get all whiny just because he suddenly has 40 pounds of kid on his back. Daddy can carry two girls at once or sometimes even three girls at once. Daddy can even carry girls on the stairs. Not like Mommy, who says things like "my arms are tired" when she's only been carrying you for not even two minutes.)
Whenever they ask this question, I like to bring up the story of Aunt Snan. It is one of N and D's favorite stories. It goes like this: when Mommy and Aunt Snan were little, Mommy was bigger and faster than Aunt Snan because Mommy was older and taller. But then when they got older, Aunt Snan got taller than Mommy and practiced running a lot, and now Aunt Snan is much much faster and stronger than Mommy.
N interjected at this point and said, "Right, like how D is stronger than me!" But I don't think D is really stronger than her just yet - D just knows how to fight. And with very rare exceptions, N does not fight at all.
(I have not yet told the kids the story about how Aunt Snan used to be afraid to hit Mommy, but then when they got older, Aunt Snan realized that now she can beat Mommy up with both hands tied behind her back (an ability she fortunately never had cause to use, as clever Mommy had come to the same realization years earlier...). Maybe I should tell that story, to Adi if to nobody else. Forewarned is forearmed).
****
N is also too honest for her own good. Today Viggy had to tell off N, D, and two of their friends who were walking home from school with us for running too far ahead.
Viggy: It's not OK to run so far ahead that we can't see you. You were so far that you couldn't even hear me telling you to stop!
N: No, we did hear you tell us to stop! But when we heard we just ran faster! *swings her arms happily to pantomime fast running*
(N's friend pulls N in for a huddle)
N: Oh. I mean that we only heard, like, a little of sound. But we didn't know.
****
I had to go to Adi's school today for a meeting with the school counselor over why Adi was missing notebooks from her bookbag earlier in the year. Fortunately, I've learned something since encountering the same problem last year, so instead of saying, "She's usually missing 20% of her school stuff? That's amazing! Man, I'm almost 30 and I'm still usually missing about half my school stuff," I said, "Oh, you're right, yes, of course, I'll be checking her backpack every night."
And when the counselor expressed surprise that Adi sometimes uses a notebook meant for one subject to take notes for a different subject, because "that is not normal for children. Children don't usually do that," I managed not to laugh, or to show her the paper I'd been working on while waiting outside her office - which was covered with a mix of attempts at proofs for math class, the grocery list, and random notes to myself.
(Poor Adi is actually not really like me at all in this regard. It's just that they have about 25 different notebooks, folders and workbooks to keep track of, with different combinations required on different days. I think she's doing very well, considering. Certainly the progress "we've" been making on the issue is more down to her abilities than my own.
OK, she's maybe inherited a teeny tiny bit of my
Anyway. Between that and work, my "smile and nod" muscles have been getting quite a workout. Which, I'll admit, they could definitely use. My overdeveloped "open your big mouth and say something 'clever' that will just get you into way more trouble than you're currently in" muscles are usually so quick to respond to any new challenge that the others have been rather neglected.
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