Yesterday I talked about how Punkin totally put me in my place without even knowing it. She’s good like that. Sometimes the kid leaves me completely floored. And apparently, she’s not the only kid doing that to me these days.
Scenario two: How’s that degree working out for ya?
Goo and I were working on a puzzle together. 100 pieces, no big deal. We had about 1/3 of it done when I grabbed a piece and tried to reorient it to fit in a certain spot. Goo quickly piped up.
Created by me. On someecards.com. Obviously.
Goo: Remember the science, Mommy. See how that piece has white? It doesn’t go there. This one goes there. It’s science, mommy.
Of course it is. I just have a degree in Biology and minor in Chem. I’ve tutored high school and college students in math and science on occasion. But my four-year old schooled me on a freaking princess puzzle. Maybe I can ask Sallie Mae for a refund.
Scenario three: You’re better than that.
Sometimes my kids drive me completely and utterly insane [insert shock here]. Things like taking your milk, turning the cup upside down, watching a white puddle form on my freshly mopped floors, and saying, “Oopsie,” can sometimes put me over the edge. Because oh em gee, that was so not an accident. Anyway.
I have a distinct “Mommy voice.” The one that goes from, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you picked up your Barbies because if I step on their shoes in the middle of the night again I’m going to burn them all?” to “Turn on your listening ears. If these dolls aren’t picked up by the time I count to three, you’re getting a time out. That’s your warning.” It’s my business voice. The one that lets them know that Mommy doesn’t think our tornado of destruction game is cute anymore. Sometimes it’s less business and more “Holy crap? What the heck is wrong with you people? It’s like I’m not even speaking English. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, CLEAN. UP. YOUR. CRAP.”
Lately, when I cross over to the “holy crap” voice, Smush walks up, smiles ear to ear, and says:
Mommy, are you happy?
But what she really means is: Mommy, are you going to lose the joy of the Lord in this moment? Are you going to undo all the patient instruction you’ve instilled in us for the past 3 hours? Huh? Are you?
Sigh. I’m the parent. I’m the teacher. But sometimes these little crazies are the ones teaching me.
Thank God for that.
