Cutest Kid Contest

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep is a network of professional photographers who help families when they suffer the loss of an infant. They volunteer their time and materials to take pictures of the family so that they can remember the life that was lost. It is a compassionate program and I am going to enter my kids in The Cutest Kid Model Search contest -- a benefit for this organization. Please join me in supporting it. To enter, follow the link above. You'll be asked to donate $1 per vote.

Don't keep your kids out of the competition just because you know that in a throw down, my kids are cuter...

Lil'T and the alphabet

Lately Lil'T has been asking for the "a-b-c song." Very cute. But my favorite is when she sings it. Sure there are the omissions and the repeating of sections:

"A-B-C-D-A-F-G..."

But my favorite is Lil'T's take on the notorious "elemeno," letter. I remember thinking that it was just one letter. It isn't very clear by the song. But here is Lil'T's rendition.

"J-K-Emily-P."

Cool.

Been there

Shopping with kids guarantees that you will visit every bathroom of every store at least twice for any child who needs your assistance. Those that don't need your help will wait until everybody else has gone and then just as you are to leave a store, suddenly announce that he too needs to visit the restroom. This makes a shopping trip that should last only 30 minutes last about 2 hours. At least it feels like 2 hours.

Today we went to Costco and had lunch. I told the family that I was going to the bathroom and asked if anybody wanted to go with me. Nobody did. As is typical, upon my return, Lil'T and Princess both announced that they had to go.

I know this detailed account of our bathroom visits really isn't that interesting to read, but this post is not about us. It is about a mother with 2 kids, likely twins: a boy and girl around 4 years old. I put Teira on the potty when I heard this monologue from outside our stall.

"Libby, I'll just hold the door closed for you. Don't lock it. Your brother and I are waiting. Don't lock the door. I said no. (exasperated sigh after she discovered that Libby had indeed locked the door.) Okay, well hurry up, we're all waiting for you to be finished... Are you done? Libby, I asked if you're done. Well, if you're done, wipe yourself and pull up your pants. I said, pull up your pants. Okay, your brother has to go to the bathroom too. John, don't lock the door. Libby, what are you doing? OH GOD! GET UP OFF THE FLOOR! LIBBY! OH GROSS! GET UP OFF THAT FLOOR THIS INSTANT!!! JOHN, GET UP OFF THE FLOOR. OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

At this point she started panicking because she couldn't get the door open. Then kids' grandmother asked from outside the bathroom if everything was alright.

"MY KIDS ARE GOING PSYCHO! LIBBY! OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT!"

This mom totally lost it as both her kids were lying on the bathroom floor of the Costco. (You may have the impulse to rub yourself all over with hand sanitizer. Go with that.) She started pounding on the bathroom stall door.

"LIBBY! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!!!" *pound, pound pound* "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN IT!" Repeat.

Lil'T and I had finished washing our hands so we waited for Princess outside. I didn't want that poor mom to be too embarrassed with us watching. You could tell she had tried to hold it together as much as possible but just couldn't handle both kids peeking out from under the bathroom stall doors. I know that I'd have gone over the edge if I found my kids lying down on the floor of the Costco bathroom. At least it was the ladies room. I've heard horror stories about mens rooms. Hubby says that the bathrooms on the WS Ferries are so filthy that he'd rather hang his butt over the side of the boat than go to the mens rooms. Then again, he may just be telling tales because he hates having to take Lil'T to the bathroom.

The kids must have opened the door because while we were waiting both kids bounced out of the bathroom and that poor mom had returned to normal. She even offered to help them get a drink of water from the fountain.

I'm sure she felt embarrassed, but she's got to know. We've all been there. Every mom of every little kid has been there. At least I have. She doesn't need to feel embarrassed.

In the car, my son was cracking up at the recounting of this mother's harrowing visit to the bathroom. He thought it was so disgusting for those kids to be lying on the floor of the bathroom. This from the same kid who when he was about 4 years old picked up the urinal cake out of the urinal and asked, "What's this?"

Yeah, that urinal cake. The one that everybody pees on. The one that my husband says every guy aims for. That urinal cake.

I didn't burn the boy or douse him in bleach. But I think I used up my entire bottle of hand sanitizer.

I had to rub it all over him and myself just to feel clean again.

Contributing to the delinquency of a minor

Yesterday evening was Princess's Ice Cream Social and Open House at school. I have been attending these events since 2002. Every year I say to myself, "Next year, I will not come at 6:30pm. I will not endure the craziness of the gymnasium with kids hepped up on ice cream and the noise levels nearing the sound of a jet planes." But every year, I forget. Every year, I get begged and cajoled into getting in the car at 6:15pm so we can be there just as they start. Every year, my kids are near the first in line. I'm there so early that there are still parking spaces in the lot. It's not right.

Hubby was late in Seattle so it was just me and the kids. After our cups of ice cream, we eagerly waited to check out all there was to see in Princess's classroom. She proudly showed me her papier-mache model of the island. She had watercolored an adorable sunshine-in-a-box project. I thought that was very clever. She also showed me her biography report that she made into a cube. I actually had seen that one before, but we got to take it home. And she also made a book about the world. Up on the bulletin boards were her letters to her penpal from across the island at another elementary school. Her letters from her Lola and her Grandpa were also posted. I had to adjust the growing-up and sent-from pins on the map. Lola's letter was erroneously placed on Lanai. Wrong island. I also put Grandpa's pin a little more south in California. They had him in the middle of the state. I don't even know what is there.

On the dry erase board, Miss B. wrote a list of things to remember to take home. It looked like this:

Things to take home:
*Map of the island
*Biography cube
*Sunshine-in-a-box
*Book of the world

My son and I read off the list and noted a missing item. You really should take home your child. We kind of giggled about that and then I said, "I dare you to write it." He hesitated a little, scanned the room quickly to see where the teacher was. I said, "I'll even keep lookout." He said, "Okay, where's the pen?"

So I stood between him and Miss B who was talking to another parent. Scrawled in kid writing instead of super precise teacher writing was one more starred item: *Your kid.

We sauntered away from it and waited for people to notice. It took a little while, but then somebody did notice and there were a couple of laughs and it was pointed out to other people who got a kick out of it. It would have been fun to see Miss B's reaction but she was too busy. I'm hoping that Princess will see it in the morning and come home with a story about it.

For those of you who knew me growing up, you know that I was so straight laced that my laces were practically sticks. So this little act was really no big deal. But I found this benign act of graffiti with my son to be so fun.

See, I know that my kids know that I love them. That much is evident. But stuff like this shared tiny joke does something more. It lets my son know that I like him.

I really do.