Litany

I've always thought a lot about my future children.

What are they going to be like?

What are they going to enjoy?

I want to instill in them a love of the beautiful things.

Poetry. Art. Music. Literature.

You know, the important stuff that makes us humans.

The beautiful creations that make life worth living.

Anyways, here is a little boy that is super cute.

Poetry was always meant to be recited by little mouths.

I should like to have little ones like this one day.

Litany

You are the bread and knife,

the crystal goblet and the wine.

You are the dew on the morning grass

and the burning wheel of the sun.

You are the white apron of the baker,

and the marsh bird suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,

the plums on the counter,

or the house of cards.

And you are certainly not the pine scented air.

There is just no way that you are the pine scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,

maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,

but you are not even close

to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show

that you are neither the boots in the corner

nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,

speaking of the plentiful imagery in the world,

that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,

the evening paper blowing down the alley

and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees

and the blind woman's tea cup.

But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.

You are still the bread and the knife.

You will always be the bread and the knife,

not to mention the crystal goblet and -somehow- the wine.

~Billy Collins

Conversations with Macy

Miss Macy {age 5}

Macy: There's this boy in my preschool class named Dallin. I like him a lot. So I kiss him all the time. Do you have a boy in your class that you like?
Me: {blushing} yes, yes I do have a cute boy in my class that I like.
Macy: Well, do you kiss him?
Me: No, I've never kissed him.
Macy: Well how is he going to know you like him?
Me: ...

Macy: Are you in singing school?
Me: No
Macy: Then you need to stop singing all the time!
{I Love My Lips from Veggie Tales Silly Songs usually stops the negativity about singing}

Too Early for This

After catching Squirt getting into the cabinet (which means breaking the locks) this is what I looked like. Did I mention that it was 6:45 am and that is why I look crazy? Did you know the sun was up at this time? I certainly didn't.

Overheard

During the dinner prayer:

"And dear Heavenly Father, please bless Reyna that she will let us have oreos."

~said by Macy, age 4, when I told her that we couldn't have oreos because we already had ice cream earlier.

Babies and Taco Bell

No...time...to...blog...

Ugh, children. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but I love being single more. I am so exhausted at the end of each day that I fall into bed at nine. But while my body is tired, my mind has no clue what an early bedtime is. So I lie there. And then the alarm rings at six ("alarm" is code name for "baby" and "ring" is code for "hollering"). Let it be known: I am suddenly happy to be single. Men, stay away! You only get girls pregnant and that is unacceptable. I am happy to be able to lay in bed till 9:00 am if I want. I am happy going to bed at 2:00 am, watching X-Files till late and making midnight Taco Bell runs (because that is what next semester is going to be full of. Woot!) I am happy spending an hour on my hair and makeup each morning. Yes, I know. It will be different when the children are mine. True, but these things won't be differnt: naptimes, bedtimes, mealtimes. These things don't change. Neither do dirty diapers and baths and boo boos and complaining about me not letting them watch TV. So, I am single, and proud. At nineteen, I should be.

Day Two

Today brought many surprises. A few of them were runny noses, millions of baby ducks, paint. Lots and lots of washable paint.

Baby woke up grumpy and sick. He wouldn't eat, but he would yell at me. I can cope with that.

Macy painted every piece of paper in the house, I swear. And the counter. And her clothes. And the floor. Thank goodness it was washable.

We went to the duck pond by campus and there we MILLIONS of baby ducks. There were some ducks that wouldn't move till you got too close and then the babies would just flow out. It was like clowns out of a car. One mama duck had 13 under her, but you couldn't tell when she was sitting. It was great. I forgot my camera (of course) but we are going back Tuesday. I promise pictures.

Day One

I feel like a child who is pretending to play house. Only this is for reals. I am staying with the children I nanny while mom and dad are in Hawaii. Fun?Yes. Intimidating? Yes. I am not sure how I am going to last a week. But I'll keep you informed. Promise.


Here's what went on around here today.

Baby decided to eat crayons. Not one, not two, but more than 5. He has a stash somewhere and I can't find it.

Baby learned how to climb onto the counter. At one years old, I am not impressed. I am trying to train him out of it by picking him up, saying no, and putting him in his room. I don't shut the door or anything, he can some right out, but he still hates it and hollers like none other. Does this sort of thing work? I have no previous experience.

We started the circle chart to get through the week. It goes like this: 10 circles, 5 empty and 5 with privileges written in them. Example: TV, computer time, desserts, etc. Every time someone misbehaves, one gets crossed off. Once you get through the first 5, you start losing privileges for the whole family. These kids are paranoid. We haven't lost one circle yet.

I am so tired from this past week (moving out and stuff, details to come) that I haven't sat down all day. I was nodded off when I sat down to read stories earlier, and that is just unacceptable when you are doing what I'm doing.

I will take some pictures tomorrow and hopefully have some good stories to tell.