Mommiest Moments: March, 2009

“If necessary, I will draft an official letter to the tooth fairy, explaining the circumstances and showing a picture of the gap in your mouth. Perhaps she would accept your appeal.”

--Mommy, to Eric. I am so impressed that Eric managed to lose his first tooth twice! (Fortunately, we found it before bedtime.)

----Okay, in fairness, the tooth came out and he immediately handed it to me. I put it in a ziploc bag and then my purse ate it. The first version sounds better, though.

Eric: George Washington had slaves?

Mommy: Yes.

Eric: Then how did he get elected President?

Mommy: Back then most voters didn't think it was a big deal. That doesn't make it right, of course, since slavery interferes with another person's agency and Heavenly Father--

Eric: [interrupting] So I think that if George Washington had run in the election we just had, he would not have been elected because he owned slaves.

Mommy: That's true. And if Mr. Obama had run back in the first presidential election, he wouldn't have been elected, either.

Eric: Why not?

--I love the innocence of youth. :)

Aunt Cheryl: We are moving the train table downstairs so your Mommy can build some train tracks for the party.

Danny: But the table will not be big enough!

--I appreciated his faith in me. I did, indeed, jump the confines of the table and take up half the living room.

The train set for P.'s birthday party. Danny and his cousin helped and added on to it.

“I was too busy interpreting to listen.”

--Gail. I visited my sister in South Bend and was drafted as an emergency interpreter. I didn't do all that well, but I did better than I expected! Two major hang-ups, though. First, the lesson was about pride. In ASL, “pride,” “courage,” and “strength” are the same sign. Arrrgh. Second, a standard hymn isn't bad, but “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” would be hard in any language. (How the heck do you sign “Teach me some melodious sonnet/Sung by flaming tongues above”? Maybe make a picture of “Heaven—angels—glory—song—teach me?”) That's my new ASL goal.

Eric: Does .999 equal 1?

Mommy: No.

Eric: But does .33 repeating equal 1/3

Mommy: [Absently] Yes.

Eric: So then .99 repeating should equal 1! I think that is a paradox.

Mommy: Clever. Very clever. And yes, that's a paradox. :)

“Shoo! Shoe! Sock! Boot! Oooh, I bet I could even say, “flat” or “heel.” But imagine saying “shoe” and then, “heel”

--I was hypocritically trying to hurry the children along whilst allowing myself to get distracted.

“I have determined that 5^10 times 2 = 19531250. Is that right?

--Eric. Of course, I had to use pencil and paper to replicate what he did in his head.

“And here are the pieces disassembled...”

--Danny

Mommy: Patience and...? [suggestive silence]

Danny: [sighing] long-suffering...

[Droning monotone]

“Stay on target...stay on target...”

--Danny to Eric, who was distracted. It sounded exactly like that line from Star Wars.

“I love spring! It makes my allergies start!”

--Danny, cheerfully, while running around the park. He sounded exactly like Carolyn.

“I ambushed you!”

--Danny

[Playing “black box analysis” game with Eric]

Eric: Oh no! I programmed my black box to add 1 to any input, but instead it's giving an output of zero no matter what! There is a bug in my program! And I hear strange noises! Quick, run away!

--He then clarified that his black box wasn't making the strange noises, it was the scary monsters attacking.

[A few minutes later]

Mommy: I grab the black box and hit the monsters over the head with it.

Eric: And suddenly it starts to work again! Except it is giving very random answers.

--Apparently, the “bang on the machine” principle works even for imaginary devices.

“And this mouth of the cup is the stargate and my tongue is the wormhole and my mouth is the other planet...”

--Danny

Mommy: Tomorrow is pi day!

Eric: Why?

Mommy: Because it is March 14th! 3/14!

Eric: Oh! It is also Pi's birthday!

Mommy: We should celebrate! We should eat a pie at the birthday party.

Eric: And Euclid's birthday is the same--[pause as Eric reconsiders]...it is three-point-one-four days later!

Gail: ...I couldn't think of a way to depict “2585” in candles.

Jon: That's simple! Just code it in binary, with lit and unlit candles.

Gail: ...That's...brilliant.

--Unfortunately, it was already too late. 2,585 is as approximation of Pythagorus' age, anyway.

The Pi family, consisting of tiger cub Euclid [right], his father Pythagorus ("Pi") [middle], and step-mother Nannerl (a tabby cat) [left]. They celebrate both Pi day and Pi's birthday. March 14, 2009.

Mommy: ...so I've always wondered what the allegory was for The Horse and His Boy. Moses leading the children of Israel out of Egypt? The personal search for Christ?

Eric: What is it?

Mommy: I don't know. It's open to interpretation.

Eric: But why didn't the writer just say?

Mommy: Because, my own, if writers explained everything, there would be thousands of unemployed literature professors the world over.

E. P.: Your kids are so smart! So gifted! And so patient! And well-behaved! And sweet and cute...

--I flatter myself she was sincere. They really were good that evening. And she was amazing and helpful! Thanks!

[Ronald and Eric were playing “black box.”]

Eric: I input 5

Ronald: 25

Eric: 4

Ronald: 16

Eric: squares!

Ronald: Uh, right!

[Next round]

Eric: 3

Ronald: 27

Eric: 4

Ronald: 64

Eric: cubes!

Ronald: [looks surprised]

[Next round]

Eric: 3,164!

Ronald: [pause]

Gail: Would you like paper and a pencil?

Ronald: Yes.

Eric: Why is it taking so long?

Ronald: Because I have to do a lot of steps. Look, can you give me a smaller number?

Eric: 2,005

Ronald: [takes awhile] Still too large.

Eric: 1024

Ronald: [pause] 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2.

Eric: ...Oh! I think it is the prime factors!

Ronald: [gapes]

“I have discovered there are multiple bridges!”

--Danny

“Torture the kitty-cat...torture the kitty-cat...”

--Danny, singing. He was taking Nannerl (stuffed cat) and tying her to doorknobs by her tail. This is perfectly normal behavior for little boys, right? Please? I started to intervene, but Danny assured me that she liked it. I think Nannerl suffered enough in her prior incarnation as the daughter of Leopold Mozart, but I figured she would scratch or bite if she really objected.

“For my bedtime story, I want it to be about Pinky and the Brain trying to take over the world by driving everyone over with Bertie the Bus. And Bob the Builder and Handy Manny try to stop them, but they get run over, too...”

--It got even more creative, and violent, but I forget the details. I'm, um, happy that my boys are so masculine. Just in case anyone thought that because they were sweet they were somehow less interested in high-velocity impacts, explosions, violence, and gore.

"Ask an Engineer..." I asked Grandpa Homer for help with some tent poles. I had envisioned some kind of wooden dowel and a base. Grandpa whisked out this
solution, with materials on hand, in less than an hour [left]. The kids enjoyed the final product [right].

[Daniel screams. And screams. And SCREAMS. Piercingly. Gail whips out her phone and dials. After about ten seconds, she assumes Jon has picked up and heard the shrill shrieks.]

Gail: I know how much you miss us and want us to be together again. I just wanted to help you not miss us quite so much. Still in a hurry to to reunite?

Jon: You know, I could wait another week. Or two...

Gail: And once we do arrive, I will be happy to let you re-bond with the kids, without interference, while I take some Gail Time.

[Playing chess with Ronald whilst on sentry duty]

Ronald: Ahem. [Points to Danny lurking suspiciously]

Mommy: Daniel. Leave the lights off and the door open.

Danny: But I want the lights on and the door closed.

Mommy: No.

Danny: But I WANT the lights on and the door closed!

Mommy: I understand what you want, but my answer is still 'no.'

Danny: [crescendoing] No, I NEED the lights on and the door closed!

Mommy: 'And yet, I am unmoved.'

Danny: Mommy! If you don't let me, I will...I will take your book away!

--Fortunately, I had already finished the one he tackled.

Gail: ...And you'll never guess what amazing exhibit is at the childrens' museum right now!

Jon: Um...well, you like castles. And this is for kids, so it probably involves toys...legos? Castles made of legos?

Gail: I..but..How did you know?

Jon: I guessed.

Gail: Am I that predictable?

At the Childrens' Museum: Danny fires a catapult as part of a computer simulation. He designed a lego wall (on a computer) that was thick, curved, and inter-locked. He then pulled back on the catapult, aimed, and fired. His wall held successfully in the simulation. I congratulated his superior engineering skills!

“There is no Bishop in this version of Church.”

--Danny the Apostate, playing “church” by re-enacting Sacrament Meeting.

“This is like the miracle of the loaves and fishes, only reversed. The Lord has miraculously supplied extra mouths.”

--I complained about preparing too much food, and then the missionaries appeared on our doorstep.

I wasn't trying to hurt you; I was only trying to eat you.”

--Mommy, to Danny.

“And it is against the law for missionaries to be impolite!”

--Danny, interrupting a lecture about how he shouldn't complain about dinner, because once he's in the field...

“I don't like working with irrational numbers.”

--Eric, complaining about a math problem. Here he liked numbers because they, unlike people, are so orderly and predictable. I hope he survives this disillusionment.

Danny: [asks a question]

Mommy: Well, one example is...

Danny: Yes, Mommy, but what is the classic example?

Jon: I'm glad we're a family again.

Gail: We were always a family. But I'm glad we're in geographic proximity.

[They hug.]

--My thanks to Grandpa and Grandma Homer for housing us and then helping us reunite with Jon.

“My favorite part was the first few minutes exploring!”

--Eric, answering my question, “What's your favorite part of the new house?”

Above: Carrie's minaret, made at the Lego Castles exhibit.

Below:

[Left] Danny stares at a Lego castle with labels. I helped to point out salient features like the trap door and dungeon.

[Right] Eric and Danny pose next to the dragon. Yes, it is made entirely of legos. As I was holding the camera, there is no documentary evidence of my drool.

Mommiest Moments: February, 2009

Eric [left] and Danny [right] scale Uncle Ronald's Family Home Evening Staircase Challenge. Almost every pillow, sheet, and blanket in the house were sacrificed to the cause.

Danny: Will you play with me?

Mommy: No. Remember how you got out of bed five times last night and exceeded your “Mommy...” quota? I thought you wanted excessive attention, and the best cure for that is less attention. So I said I would not play with you today.

Danny: I do not need any “Mommies” at bedtime, only I actually want to speak freely.

--Can you believe he just barely turned five?

“Mommy, what is one divided by infinity?”

--Eric.

“When I was seventeen, I decided to take calculus primarily so I could help my children with their math homework. I hadn't expected to need it for another decade, though...and now I don't remember any of it!”

--I ended up just teaching Eric about asymptotic functions and avoiding limits. (Whew!) If I don't remember calculus now, what will I do after another ten years?

“How old are they???”

--The staff at the Homer family's dental office. They overheard my math homeschool lesson in the waiting room. I sat and graphed the function y=1/x to answer Eric's question about dividing by infinity.

“I blame their Daddy. His idea of a bedtime story involves circuit diagrams.”

--Grandma Homer, to the aforementioned amazed dental staff. That's not entirely fair. Jon's bedtime stories also include humorous chronicles of a mad-scientist, excited electrons, and, as of April, checking off cub scout requirements. Who says my Aspie-esque engineer lacks imagination?

Worksheet: Put an x over the picture that doesn't belong. [It displays three hats and one boot.]

Danny: And I think these three are all winter things and this one [a baseball hat] is summer so I am crossing it out.

--Not the answer the author was intending, but well-defended. I took it.

Left: Bear prepares for homeschool hopscotch. We color-coded his feet to match the Ls and Rs on the floor.

“...and a circle is a ball! And a square is a box! And a triangle is a pyramid! And a trapezoid is half a pyramid!

--Danny. Wow. Brilliant boy. Awesome spatial sense!

Grandma Homer: Perhaps Heavenly Father gave Danny amazing spatial sense to help compensate for his sensory integration issues.

Gail: ...[gapes]...That's...maybe...I hadn't thought of it like that!

[I told an amusing three-part bedtime story about a language acquisition spell gone awry.]

“Maybe the spell works better for different languages because the interpreter speaks some better than others...Maybe the interpreter could program the spell to have a delayed start...”

--Eric. Aww! He was debugging a spell instead of a program! His imagination is coming right along...(It turned out the spell worked, but only after three days of immersion in the target language.)

“...Thank you, thank you, Sam-I-am.”

--Danny reading Green Eggs and Ham, out loud, in its entirety, with Jon listening on the phone. That was a spectacular parenting moment. He earned his milkshake!

“And this is a bacteria and these are white blood cells and the trampoline is the body and it is sick...”

--Danny, playing with different colored marbles, after a lesson on germs.

“There is a high likelihood that I will go to bed on time if you do not buy me a cookie.”

--Eric, to Grandpa

Danny: Why did Grandpa buy us cookies?

Mommy: Because he's a grandpa. He likes to spoil his grandkids.

Danny: You mean he wants me to be naughty?

--Spoil, not spoil rotten.

“At least I'm allowed to read on Sentry Duty. And I won't hang for sleeping on watch.”

--Gail. I've spent much of the last two weeks parked outside the boys' room to enforce Bedtime Curfew.

“Toilet? Yes. Follow...”

--Danny, the signing star, to A-, a cute Deaf boy, during a play date. In ASL, his grammar was fine.

“Some things are so universal...”

--Gail, watching end-of-visit negotiations between mother and child in ASL. I didn't catch every sign, but I got the gist.

“What's really messed up is having a kid who can read before he's potty trained.”

--Gail, sharing maternal reminiscences with another woman.

“Today is our nonaxdodecatrothalunaversary!”

--Which, being interpreted, meaneth, “the ninth anniversary of the day we got engaged.” Jon sent me a dozen roses to celebrate. What a sweet man.

Jon's roses. February 12, 2009.

[Watching The Pirates of Penzance]

Mommy: [snorts and chokes with laughter]

Eric: Why is that funny?

Mommy: Because he doesn't know how to talk to girls. It is not a good idea to propose by saying, “Are any of you girls so ugly that you're desperate enough to marry me?”

Eric: Why?

Mommy: It is never a good idea to say, hint, imply, or even ask if a girl is ugly.

Eric: Why not?

Mommy: ...Just trust me on this one.

--I neglected to point out the other flaws with Frederick's proposals, like offering to sisters en masse.

[At the statistical psychology lab at Notre Dame]

Eric: Why can't you just use the actual number? [Note: What he meant was the absolute value, or distance from a line, whether that distance is positive or negative]

Steve: Well, we could, but the math would be much more complicated that way.

Eric: Why would the math be more complicated??

Steve: Because it would make a V instead of a line

Eric: But why would that make the math more complicated?

Steve: [Pauses, groping for an answer] Does he know any calculus...?

--I'm flattered he even considered it a possibility! But I expect it will be another year or two.

Mommy: Why are all the lights off in the basement?

Danny: Because there are blind scary monsters down there!

Mommy: But if they're blind, why does it matter if it's dark?

[Watching Seven brides for seven brothers:]

Mommy: ...so Milly yelled at her husband for acting stupid--

Eric: Actually, he wasn't being stupid, just uncivilized

Mommy: [pause] Okay, she yelled at him for leading his brothers into acting like animals

Eric: How...?

Danny: Oh! I know! One brother pretended to be a cat to trick the girl and then he kidnapped her and I think that's how he acted like an animal!

Mommy: [laughing helplessly] Um, that logic is irrefutable. I think additionally, though, that they acted uncivilized because they didn't respect the girls' agency.

Eric: How does kidnapping a girl not respect her agency?

Mommy: Eric. Think about it.

Eric: [stares owlishly for a minute, then shakes his head in defeat]

Eric: [gets frustrated]

Grandpa: Eric, do you want this instead?

Mommy: Eric. We're trying to understand--

Eric: [crying] But first I need to CALM DOWN!

Mommy: [stunned] Okay.

--We gave him some time and space, and he calmed himself down, and then he explained. I felt like singing Hallelujah!

“It wasn't a Mommy moment, exactly, but A- giving me a spontaneous hug was very rewarding.”

“I have no idea how to sign 'He went as a diplomatic envoy to liase with another clan...''”

--Gail, in an email. We were coordinating the cover story as to why Richard the dog wouldn't be around during a play date.

“He thinks that because I can't see him, I can't hear him.”

--Sister G-, about A-. It was cute.

Below: Two of the more intricate train tracks we designed. Remember, it was winter, and the trains were the only big toy we brought to Grandma's house.

Mommiest Moments: January, 2009

Danny, Bear, and some polar bear cousins play in Uncle Ronald's snow cave.

“That wasn't nearly as boring as I thought it would be.”

--Eric, following the first day of home school, which included reading a book and running an obstacle course, all of which he seemed to enjoy very much.

“Eric, I--[pause]...I seem to have lost my audience. Eric! COME HERE!”

--Danny

“You mean they defused her?”

--Danny, after watching part of a Stargate episode where a character was in danger. He used the term correctly, of course.

Mommy: Come for scriptures.

Danny: [plunking down cheerfully] This is like the gathering of Israel! Because we are gathering!

“Sadly and alas...”

--Danny, sighing resignedly. You had to be there.

Danny: [pointing at screen] Look, the computer doesn't recognize that word.

Mommy: You're right. “Papizan” must not be in its dictionary.

Grandpa: [amazed] Did he just recognize that on the computer?

Mommy: Yes. You'll note, however, that he didn't say “Mommy, you misspelled that word.”

Grandpa: No doubt the result of training.

Mommy: I do occasionally mutter, “I hate it when the computer thinks its smarter than me,” yes.

“But Mommy, we never did an obstacle course!”

--Danny, protesting that home school was obviously still incomplete for the day.

Left: Danny runs a hop-scotch obstacle course after answering a grammar question correctly. All messes are our own, and do not reflect upon Grandma Homer's high house-keeping standards.

“It was a real challenge to manufacture a story that involved spying, adventure, cats, Bob the Builder, dueling with swords, princesses, wicked witches, and trains. But somehow I managed...”

--Gail, after telling a mass-market bedtime story to all six cousins, where each kid got to pick one major thematic element. They even liked it and asked for an encore the next night.

“But when will the roundhouse be outpounded?”

--Danny. His toy had been impounded as a consequence.

“I want to read Bear's biography!”

--My birthday present was a hit!

Danny's Birthday Cake. He chose a house to show we were moving.

“LET ME DRIVE THE BUS!”

--Eric and Danny both quoted, loudly, from a great picture book, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. It was a birthday present from Danny's cousins.

[I was getting ready to drop the kids off at my sister's house for a week while I went house-hunting in Austin.]

“Danny pounced me at 7 a.m. Saying “It's time to go to Aunt Cheryl's house!” I drowsily reminded him that we hadn't even packed yet. He disappeared and returned a bit later announcing that he was all packed. And, indeed, when I inspected, he had gotten his pajamas, books, stuffed animals, church clothes, socks, and some shirts and pants stuffed into his suitcase, which was parked next to the front door. I think he only forgot his underwear...”

--Gail. This reminded me of how, when Eric was two, he'd ask to go for a walk and when I'd say “Okay, go get your shoes and socks,” he'd scream at me. Whereas when Danny was two, he'd ask to go on a walk, and then he'd run and get his shoes and socks, Eric's shoes and socks, my shoes, Bear, jackets for everyone, and then stand by the front door gesturing impatiently....

Mommy: Now, remember, Aunt Cheryl might do things a little differently at her house, but you need to be flexible and obey her promptly.

Eric: But what if she tells me to do something wrong?

--I told him that if she actually issued an order which violated his conscience, he should have her call me and I would intercede, if necessary.

“Aunt Gail, will you tell us another funny story?”

--My niece, R-. I'm glad that some people (i.e., nieces and nephews) appreciate my stories. As opposed to others (i.e., my own children) who take them for granted.

[The following series of quotes were related to me by Cheryl. They happened while I was in Austin.]

Aunt Cheryl: Eric, help with the clean-up.

Eric: What will happen if I don't?

Aunt Cheryl: You will not...[names a consequence, like missing dessert]

Eric: [musingly] That is not an effective consequence. I need a different one.

Aunt Cheryl: [looks taken aback]

D-: Eric, if you don't help with the clean-up, you can't play with Dad's dice.

Eric: [meditatively] Okay. That is a good consequence. I will help now.

“Aunt Cheryl, what are three numbers where their squares equal 200?”

--Eric, randomly. Cheryl figured out that the the sum of the squares of 6, 8, and 10 equals 200.

Eric: [casually] Aunt Cheryl? Is this...breakable? Even if dropped from a very high distance?

Aunt Cheryl: Well, no, Eric, that isn't breakable, but I don't think it would fit down the laundry chute.

Eric: [feigns innocence with a look of “Laundry chute? Who said anything about a laundry chute?”]

“I am starting to think that you and my Mom do not just have similar dinner rules, but that you are exactly the same!”

--Eric.

[Gail, house-hunting in Austin]

“That's a closet? I could fit a baby in there!””

[next house]

“That's a closet? I could fit two babies in there!”

[Next house]

“Dude! I could fit triplets in here!”

--We offered on the “triplets” closet. I probably could fit three bassinets in the deep-but-narrow space, though it would be hard to navigate with clothes hanging.

Our current and prospective house. Please pray we can close without incident!

[Driving back from Cheryl's house to Grandma Homer's]

Gail: Awww...Danny and Bear are both asleep.

Ronald: How can you tell that Bear's asleep?

Gail: I'm the Mama. I know these things.

Ronald: [looks dubious]

Gail: I'm the one who changed Bear's diapers!

Ronald: Did you really ever...?

Gail: Oh, yes. I have pictures! [pause] And besides, Bear isn't wiggling. When he's awake, he's ADHD.

Danny: Mommy, how do you make potion of healing?

Mommy: You sub-contract with a wizard.

“Weigt x time = distance”

--A pun Eric made all by himself! He should have been doing a different math assignment, true, but still! It is especially cute because he still doesn't have the /r/ phoneme down and pronounces “weight” and “rate” the same.

“Also, 'Wait times time equals distance....or, in other words, are we there yet?'”

--Grandma Homer, displaying her wit.

Gail: I'm impressed! I gave Danny the problem “four times two” and he did two bunny hops down the number line to arrive at eight! He learned the concept so quickly!

Grandma Homer: [deadpan] Bunnies do multiply rapidly.

[Drooling over an amazing castle-builder's website. http://www.castlemagic.com/color.html]

Gail: Oh, this plan is perfect! It's amazing! If only I had $10 million dollars...

Grandma Homer: [looking at the floor plan] I don't see a special guest bedroom for your mother.

Gail: Well, the servant's quarter's are right here...

--Mom actually hit me! Ow!

Mommiest Moments: December, 2008

[Reading Spot Bakes a Cake]

“But Spot is baking a chocolate cake! I guess Eric Hill [the author] doesn't know that dogs shouldn't eat chocolate.”

--Danny

Mommy: Danny, pick up your blanket.

Danny: I am pretending to be a shepherd. [Drapes the blanket over his head in Nativity pageant style.]

Mommy: Fine. Go herd your blanket upstairs.

“I think we should not buy this movie because it is Sponge Bob and has bad grammar.”

--Danny. Apparently my ranting from some months back actually did sink in!

Eric: You mean the boxed stuffed animals will be jealous of the ones who stayed out? You mean this might make them mad at each other?

Mommy: It will likely create a rift in the community, yes.

[Telling the boys an Orex story]

Eric: But how did that work?

Mommy: Magic.

Eric: Because it is fiction!

Danny: No, because it is fantasy.

Eric: [argues]

Mommy: Both terms are accurate, but Danny's is more precise.

Danny: [smirks]

“You're laminating him!”

--Danny, to a friend. I wish I knew the context.

“It took me over an hour to write the clues and he solved the first two in seconds! I had no idea he knew what an exoskeleton was...”

--Gail, after designing a treasure hunt for Eric.

Mommy: [laughing] Luthien, you are not a cat. You are a unicorn.

Luthien: Meow. [giggles]

“Mommy, look! I am still going, even though you stopped pushing me. I am pumping with great skill! And without getting tired.”

--Danny, swinging

“Oh. I guess we will need a Grandpa to build us a new playset at our new house.”

--Danny, very calmly taking the news that we had to leave the playset behind.

[Eric runs into Danny, who falls down and starts crying.]

Jon: What happened?

Eric: [wanders casually downstairs] I accidentally bumped into Danny but then I said 'sorry.'

Jon: I'm sure your saying 'sorry' made him feel much better. Why don't you also try giving him a hug?

Eric: [goes upstairs] Danny...[Danny continues wailing melodramatically] Danny, get up! [In the tone of a drill sergeant shouting at “you lazy whiners”] Danny! GET UP! I am trying to give you a hug! [Pause] [Danny keeps crying]

Eric: [frustrated] Daddy, Danny is not following [Danny stops crying] my instructions!

Danny: Mommy, Eric hurted me! [Describes altercation over the only remaining unpacked toy, the train set]

Jon: Hmm. Perhaps we should pack up the train track.

Danny: But then we wouldn't have any toys!

Mommy: Yes, but then you wouldn't be fighting over toys.

Eric: [Comes downstairs]

Jon: You two need to work it out.

Danny: Come on, Eric. Let's go work it out.

Eric: [shrugs] Okay. Sorry... [Tries to give him a hug]

Danny: But, Eric! We need to go work it out!!

Jon: Are we going to run out of boxes?

Gail: Probably. But I'll run out of synonyms for "Books: Mixed Genres" long before that.

--My labeling efforts also included "Variegated," "Diverse," "Conglomerate," "Disparate," "Integrated," "Mongrels" (Jon's suggestion), and "Warring Factions" before I was forced to recycle.

“Oh, look! It's a ramshackle sleigh!”

--Danny. I was stunned, until I realized he was quoting from The Grinch Stole Christmas.

“Arrgh! Here I have a broken wrist, but no music calling to get out of. What a waste!”

--Gail, after falling on the ice.

[Orexes, bright-orange half-elephant, half-dinosaur bandits from the Monster World, figure frequently in my stories as villains. This Christmas, I ran a multi-chapter story about the Orexes racing westward, hopping time zones to stay ahead of Santa. They had a Cunning Plan to heist his sleigh, loot his bag of infinite holding for expensive electronics, and re-sell them on the black market.]

“...so the Orexes were unable to leave the Bangkok airport because political protesters had blocked all the roads...”

“So, chagrined by their discovery that the embassies in New Delhi had security, they abandoned the plan to burgle the children of Western diplomatic staff...”

“...the Orexes were surprised to discover a list of problems in Moscow: poverty, low birth rate, and low church attendance. Not to mention the trouble of scaling the fire escapes of ill-constructed Communist-era tenement housing. (To ambush Santa on the roof.) All in a bitter blizzard...“

--My sister Cheryl later pointed out that Russia celebrates Christmas a different week. Ooops.

“So, furious that no one in Charles de Gaulle airport would give them directions in English...”

“So members of the local Brazilian Mafia surrounded the band of bandits and said, 'Nobody loots in this neighborhood except us! Get your own territory!'”

Mommy: ...so the Orexes rushed toward the target-rich United States, coveting the expensive presents for rich American children...

Eric: But why would Santa only give presents to the rich kids?

Mommy: Um...he wouldn't. But the Orexes had a rudimentary conscience and decided that rich kids would also get presents from their parents and so could better afford to lose out on Santa's stuff.

--Whew. He almost had me there.

“So the vengeful Orexes arrived at Eric and Danny's house only to discover that the house was completely empty—except for the booby traps the boys had left behind...”

“The Orexes were crushed—not only that Santa had beaten them there, but also by the ton of coal bestrewn about the Illinois Governor's mansion...”

“In every case, the Orexes were thwarted by lack of research and planning. The moral of the story is that you should always do your homework before embarking on a life of crime...”

Christmas morning, 2008: Ursa Major admires the pillow and blanket Danny made for her. Now she can hibernate comfortably through the Indiana winter, knowing that the Orexes have returned to the monster world and are unlikely to filch her bedding.

Mommiest Moments: November, 2008

Danny: [Getting into the car after preschool.]...and today I made an excursion!

Mommy: You made an excursion? Do you mean you drew a picture...?

Danny: [Condescendingly] No, Mommy, an excursion means going out and doing something.

[Eric was assigned to write a one-paragraph true story about a parent or grandparent.]

“When my Mom was a little girl, she would do an Indian Snow Dance. Her family went outside. They danced. They hoped that if they did it right (the Indian Snow Dance) (even though they were just pretending), that there would be a blizzard and school would be canceled.”

--I told him the story, but I did not assist with the writing at all. I loved the two consecutive parentheses. They blew me away!

Mommy: Do you want me to stand up there in case you need help?

Danny: [Serenely] No thank you. I will do it myself.

“Heavenly Father loves all his children. It doesn't matter what they look like. Even if I do something bad, he still loves me. I love Heavenly Father, too. I will make good choices. This will make him happy. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

--Danny, reading —reading!!!— a talk in Primary.

---Jon and I sat in the audience, grinning proudly. This makes two Sunbeams in a row who read their own primary talks.

“He was reading that! Wow!”

Sister C--, who was conducting Primary opening exercises.

[At the dinner table]

Jon: So when did you do that?

Gail: [mouth full, signs something]

Jon: Now? But we're eating dinner right now.

Gail: [after swallowing] That sign can also mean 'today.'

Danny: [tactfully] Actually, Mommy, this [makes the sign with one hand] means 'now.' This [makes the sign doubled, with both hands] means 'today.'

Gail: Oh. Thank you.

Jon: [smirks slightly]

Eric: Danny, pretend to be a doctor who eats me.

Danny: Eric, no thank you.

Eric: Okay. I will go find a tiger!

“Mommy, be a silly friendly snuggle monster only who lets people go.”

--Danny

“Mommy, be a wicked scary monster who tries to catch me and not let me go.”

--Eric

“It finally seemed 'real' once I started putting books and stuffed animals into boxes. The stuffed animals went spitting and clawing into that dark night. 'Nooo!' they shouted, 'This is worse than the cattle cars to Auschwitz!' I persevered, despite numerous scratches, leaving out only the elite stuffed animals whose proximity is vital to the emotional well-being of my children. I'm afraid that my long-dreaded stuffed animal revolution may finally transpire once I open the lids to eight boxes of rabid beasts. (Even if they bite me, they can't actually transmit rabies since they don't have blood or saliva, right...?)”

--Gail, describing the packing process.

Danny: Mommy, when is it winter?

Mommy: Winter officially starts a few days before Christmas.

Danny: Mommy, I think all the bears will hibernate this year—but, wait. We are planning to make a pillow and blanket for Ursa Major's Christmas present, so she cannot hibernate.

Mommy: I have a suggestion. Most bears eat a lot before they hibernate. I suggest that all the bears eat a good Thanksgiving dinner and then participate in Christmas and eat a huge Christmas dinner, and then start hibernating only a few days late. And Bear and Ursa Major can hibernate with the pillows and blankets you've made for them. Does that sound like a good idea?

Danny: Yes!

Eric: Will you buy me this sudoku book?

Mommy: No, you already have one at home. In German.

Eric: How can I can sudoku in German?

Mommy: The same way I play the organ in Spanish.

(I cannot, sadly, play the organ in sign language. Nor can I speak Spanish. )

“Mommy, I think you forgot to give me a goodnight kiss.”

--Eric. (Awww!) He has been much more snuggly lately. I am enjoying it while I can!

“Danny will be late to school today because there is a worm on the sidewalk. Once he decides to deal with this crisis, I will drive him over.”

--Gail, leaving a message on the pre-school answering machine.

Mommy: [dropping Danny off twenty minutes late] Daniel, you should tell Miss P-- about the worm that made you late.

Miss P--[assuming the tardy was due to scientific inquiry] Oh, how exciting! Tell me all about it!

Mommy: [cackling, rubs her hands in vengeful glee.] [aside] I am going to let him explain this. Wahaha.

--I'd love to give more details. But I have sworn not to humiliate my kids. Hold embarrassing material as levers in blackmail, maybe, but not humiliate. I will thus leave you to imagine the circumstances, and remind you that he was only 4.

Mommy: Eric, it's time to go.

Eric: [keeps reading]

Mommy: Eric. Three, two, one...

Eric: Mommy, I think you should count by prime numbers.

Mommy: [takes a deep breath] One, two three. [You'll note those were all prime numbers.]

Eric: I mean, I think you should count to fifty by prime numbers.

Mommy: Fine. I will count to fifty by prime numbers, provided you start walking now.

Eric: [nods agreement]

Mommy: One, two three, five, seven, eleven...[they reach the doors of Barnes and Noble]...thirteen, seventeen, nineteen...[They start walking along the sidewalk]...um...[mutters to herself] twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, ah! [louder] twenty-three!...

Eric: But, Mommy, those were not all prime numbers.

Mommy: Eric. I am thinking out loud.

[They cross the street]

Mommy: [still muttering] twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven? no, divisible by three... Twenty-eight, twenty-nine? [Rapidly tries to divide twenty-nine by lesser digits] Twenty-nine!...[mutters] thirone, thir-two-three-fourfivesi'seven Thirty-seven!...

--I did manage to get to forty-seven before we reached the van.

[Ranting] Why on earth would someone pay extra money for a vaulted ceiling? It's so energy-inefficient, heating and cooling that much empty space. And I'd rather have a fifth bedroom anyway! And what benefit is there to crown moulding? I don't want a pretentious home; I want a spacious home!

--Gail, house-hunting online

“This can be the easiest commission you'll ever earn. Or it can be the hardest commission you ever earn. It's up to you. But we know exactly what we want.”

--Gail, in an email to her realtor, appending a detailed spreadsheet about houses, locations, features, and prices per square foot.