Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Archives for December 2006

Oral Transmission of Folklore

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This is how wives tales and urban legends get started.

A while ago, Laylee and I were having a conversation and she COULD NOT concentrate on what I was saying because I kept closing my eyes.

Me: No I’m not.
Laylee: Yes you are. Please STOP!
Me: I’m just blinking.
Laylee: Please don’t do it. Look at me.

I then proceeded to give an increasingly dire account of what would happen if people didn’t blink to protect the moisture in their eyes. She still wanted me to stop. I finally ended the conversation by telling her that if people didn’t blink, then their eyes would shrivel up and fall out. Since she likes me to have eyes for things like reading stories and finding princess crowns, she decided I could keep them.

That was a couple of months ago.

Yesterday we were at the chiropractor, when the musculoskeletal diagram caught her attention.

Laylee: Hey mom! See that pirate? He’s got no EYES!
Me: Hmmm…
Laylee [matter-of-factly]: It’s because he never blinked and then they fell out. That’s sad. I try to blink sometimes in front of Magoo to teach him that he needs to moisturize.

Well halle-doodly-lujah! Any day now I expect to find her rubbing Oil of Olay into his sockets.

Free at Last

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This person

nursery man

is finally old enough to attend our church nursery after nearly 18 months of chaos. I want to buy new cars for all of the nursery workers or at the very least wash their current cars’ windshields with my tears of joy.

Seeing Magoo clap his hands and yell “Yay-MEN!” after a prayer in nursery is fun. Not hearing him yell other choice words during the adult meetings anymore is even more funner.

the reasons: spongy bones for children, exterminators

I’ve Been Clean for Over 24 Hours

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Well, I’m usually clean. The good news is, my kitchen has been clean for over 24 hours.

I decided yesterday that since I could not, in fact, keep my house clean as long as Laylee and Magoo were still residing in it, I could pick the one room I can control and set it up as a fortress of clean.

When we use a dish, it goes straight in the dishwasher. When we make a crumb, we wipe it up. When Magoo finishes a meal in a fantastic display of doneness by sweeping the contents of his tray onto the floor, I wipe the floor before declaring breakfast finished.

The strangest thing has happened. When the kitchen and dining room are clean, the rest of the house sort of maintains itself at a low-boil of play-time catastrophe. Dan reminded me that the kids are old enough to help and I’ve brought mean motherhood to a new level by having them clean with me several times a day before they move onto the next activity.

Magoo likes it so much that he’s been dumping out baskets, saying “Uh-Oh” and cleaning them up just for fun.

The freeze has subsided. Dan is back at work. The Christmas decorations are up and I want a dumbwaiter. Seriously. Do you remember the dumbwaiter they had on Webster? I want one in the worst way. I’ve even figured out a place where it would fit. We just need to annex the coat closet downstairs and the linen closet upstairs. They’re directly in line with each other as though the builder was leaving space for an optional pulley system.

I am also looking to hire someone to stand at the top of the stairs, unload the dumbwaiter and put all of the things away. Send references to kathryn@daringyoungmom.com.

This afternoon Dan and I will be taking Laylee to see the Pacific Northwest Ballet production of the Nutcracker. Heads will explode. I won’t be surprised if she shrieks in ecstacy at inappropriate places. I will cry. I always cry. When I hear good live music, I cry. Dave Matthews, Dave Brubeck, the Broadway Beauty and the Beast. They all made me cry. The Backstreet Boys also made me cry but for a different reason.