Catching Up

For about the last year, any time B would draw a picture, we'd get this:

Scribbles. Lots and lots of scribbles. And he always said they were robots. Always.

I didn't worry too much because he's only 4. When we got to school last week and I finally saw the kinds of pictures most of his peers draw when they are given a blank piece of paper and a pen, I'll admit that I started to get a bit concerned. The girls were drawing lots of nature scenes: flowers, trees, butterflies, animals. The boys were drawing cars, people, animals and even robots. (However, I could tell they were robots.) I decided that we'd start talking a little bit more about art. I thought that if I spent a little time that maybe we'd see an improvement. I would be less concerned if he was actually focusing on what he was doing, but mostly, he just puts pen to paper for about 15 seconds then walks away.

Well, my little man CAN draw pictures. Not just scribbles. I told him this morning that after school we'd work on drawing some flowers. What did he do? Brought home a picture with two beautiful flowers on it. Then, this afternoon, we made a birthday card for one of his best friends. He drew 5 beautiful flowers in honor of her 5th birthday. I am so proud!!!

Age of Beauty

The other day, my Mom asked how it felt to look younger than we did when we got married. Now, I agree that we both weigh less, but younger? Personally, I think we look like BABIES here.

I have been reading an article in Allure magazine about the age of beauty. It has some great points, but I felt very old when one group of people declared that 36 is the ideal age for a woman. (I just turned 37, so I guess some folks think I am on the downhill slide.)

I kind of get it - when I was a kid - 11 years old - my Mom turned 36. For some reason, this is the age that stuck in my head. Logically, I knew the years were passing and I could do the math - she had me when she was 25 for if I was getting older, so was she. But I always thought of my Mom as 36. My Dad has perpetually remained 42 - which is pretty funny since he is only 2 1/2 years older than my Mom, but I never said this was a logical thought process.

Another point of the article is that your 30s is when you start to think that you feel younger than your biological age and perceive your look to be younger, too.

Actual age = 25 34 44 54

How old you feel = 26 32 38 43

How old you think you look = 23 30 37 44

Most of this has to do with being comfortable with who you are. Maybe it takes until we are really into our 30s to reach that level of comfort.

"Maybe the ideal age for any woman is ultimately the age at which she can stop thinking about how old she is...and start thinking about everything else she might do with the time allotted her."

I agree that how you look and how you feel are all about attitude.

Channeling my inner third grader

Original label "Apple Butter".
Delicious treat from my sister's kitchen and we were sad when the jar
was empty. I couldn't help laughing when I saw the label after a trip
through the dishwasher.

Compare and Contrast - boys vs. girls

I told my mom this analogy and she thought it was worthy of a blog post.

It is not a true story, but it could happen on any given day in our world.

Four Year Old Boy:

Boy, "Mom. Little sister fell face first in a puddle. Just thought you should know."

Mom, "When did this happen?"

Boy, "About 30 minutes ago."

Mom, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Boy, "But there was this really cool rock, so I picked it up. Then I saw a big stick. Then I remembered that my favorite truck was over there, so I got it. I told you as fast as I could."

Four Year Old Girl:

Girl, "Mom. Little sister fell in a puddle. So, I picked her up. Got a towel and dried her off. I took her into her room and helped her change her clothes. She had a scratch, so I got a band-aid and got her all patched up. I then got her a stuffed animal, a blanket and some milk. I read her a story and she is resting in her room."

Mom, "When did this happen?"

Girl, "Oh, about 5 minutes ago. Just wanted you to know."

Eddie Haskell, Jr.

G has a classmate who is relatively new and likes to pick on the other kids. I was a bit surprised to hear about it, since he is always so sweet and smiley when I walk into her class at both drop off and pick up. When I started to hear from G about this little tyrant's propensity for pushing and hitting, I asked the administrator what is going on. Turns out, this little guy tried to hit and/or push G when he first got to class. What did she do?

"No! Stop! No hit! NO THANK YOU!!!!"

Nope. She wasn't having any of it. He hasn't gone near her since.

He is, however, a fan of picking on those who take it and don't speak up for themselves. Yikes! A bully at the ripe old age of 2. I am happy to hear that our girl spoke up and demanded that he stop, but I am sad that she is being exposed to this disturbing social norm at such a young age, an age when they learn behavior and don't always understand the consequences.

As a result, I have started talking to G about standing up for her friends, too. If she sees someone hit or push one of her classmates, it is OK to say, "No. Stop. NO THANK YOU! Be nice to my friend."

I have a feeling we haven't seen the end of this episode.

And, just for kicks, here's a photo of the fabulous Miss G!

Winter Olympics Here We Come...not so much

For play group last week, our hostess thought it would be fun to try a trip to the ice rink. One of her friends with 2 children younger than all of ours, said her two loved it. We are all pretty much willing to try anything once. So, baby sitters were called for the smallest of the small ones and we headed to a local rink.

No complaints about the boots. No complaints about the helmets. A few complaints about the mittens, but those who wouldn't keep them on soon learned why they were there in the first place.

Then they realized that ice is a bit, well, slippery. G was TERRIFIED. B was fine, but if he moved at all, he typically landed right on his, well, rear end.

Because of our 1 parent to 2 kid ratio, we started taking turns leaving a group on a bench just outside the rink with one mom, while the rest of us took our kids, one at a time, for a spin around the ice.

G, after moving about 20 feet with me, decided she was done. "Too scary, Mom." The promise of Pirate Booty and trail mix and spending some time with her buddies was way more appealing. B was a good sport, for about 10 minutes. His contemporaries who stuck with it really seemed to enjoy themselves. He also chose snacking over skating.

Most exciting TWENTY MINUTES of our week.

Swimming Like a Big Girl at OneTrueMedia.com

Rather than posting all of the cute photos from last night's final swimming lesson, I made a quick photo montage to share all of the adorable moments. Enjoy.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com