Friday, September 16, 2011

No justice no peace

Violet started preschool this week and I discovered what I've been missing all summer  - some kid-free moments during daylight hours when I still have enough energy to function.   Monday was a shortened day and involved me staying there the whole time for orientation, but Wednesday she started in earnest.  Granted the "full" day is only 2.5 hours, but Zoey naps and I have the WHOLE time to myself.

I feel like a new person, I feel like I am probably not going to drown.  I feel like my house might be semi-clean again someday soon.  And I might be able to blog a bit more often. 

If you are my Facebook friend you may have seen my post about Violet's library book, "How to Get Married by Me, the Bride."  The first few lines in the book go like this:
When you want to get married, first you have to find someone you can marry.  You can marry your best friend or your teacher or your pet or your daddy.
Children's books are so weird sometimes - another book she picked out on the same trip was "The Wicked Big Toddlah."  It's about a giant baby born in Maine.  But I digress - back to the marriage stuff.  Violet is obsessed with getting married and being a mommy.

Earlier this week, she asked me when she was going to get married.  I told her it would probably be best if she went to elementary school first - and then middle school, high school and college - but after that she could get married.  She shouted "Hooray!" then asked why she had to go to so much school.  I explained that there was a lot of stuff to learn and when she went to college she could learn about the kind of job she wanted to do - whether that was being a doctor or working at the aquarium or whatever.

She added, "Or being a Mommy?"  Hmmm, sure, honey.  "I'm going to go to college to have a baby!"  Oh, great.  When I told Greg about this conversation he said, "Well, I guess we're off the hook for 3 years of college tuition."

This morning she asked me if her kids will like pasta (something she has arbitrarily decided she now intensely likes, even though it used to be her favorite).  I told her that if there is any justice in the world, then no, they would not like pasta.  Greg said that means they definitely would like pasta.  Her response, "Mama, is there no justice?"

Thursday, September 1, 2011

A punch to the cups

While checking out at Target recently Violet was chatting with the grandmotherly clerk, going on and on about how her friend, Daniel, was five and he was going to start kindergarten, but she was going to go to four-year-old preschool - all very compelling stuff.  Then she switched to, "And my sister hits me."

The clerk glanced over at Lorelei, the bigger kid, and said, "Well, someday you'll be big and you'll be able to get her back."  I chuckled, pointed to little Zoey and said, "Oh no, she's talking about this one." The poor lady looked a little appalled and really had nothing to say about that.

Our Zoey's got a mean streak.  There doesn't even need to be any specific provocation.  You'd understand, if not condone it, if the littlest was fighting sibling injustice with her fists but she's more of a random acts of violence kind of girl.  The other day she threw her sippy cup on the dining room like she was spiking a football.  I told her "we don't throw our cups on the floor, please go pick it up."  With balled fists she said, "No!" then marched over and kicked the cup.

"Zoey, pick up the cup."

She shouted, "No!" and followed up with a punch to the cup.

"Zoey Alexandra, pick up the cup right now."

"No! I hit you!" And she did.

I'd like to say I handled it firmly, but gently and set Zoey on a course toward a peaceful, non-violent protest kind of future, but instead I giggled. She's probably gonna start punching more than cups.