Sunday, June 17, 2012

Communication by my 4 year old...

Tonight was going to be adventurous, thus I made it very clear what the children and I were set out to accomplish. Both Dylan and Kaitlyn knew they would be in the double stroller once we arrived in Old Town Pasadena and that Mommy had to pick up some paper from a paper shop. They would not be getting out of the stroller, and if they both cooperated while I got my goods, we would go for ice cream. Exceptional. Truly, both of these little ones were so outstanding. Overjoyed I found myself stopping time to express to them specifically how much I appreciated their cooperation at the store, itemizing out what they did: they were patient, quiet and very courteous.

Well, upon arriving at home I had high hopes both would be passed out from the travel time, however I was unfortunately left with two overly tired but awake children. Dylan couldn't get himself to focus on sleep while his sister was attempting every tactic in the book to delay her restful sleep (jumping on bed, asking for other sleeping arrangements, repetitively saying certain words, stalling with getting dressed, etc...you get the picture). Eventually I grew to a snappy verbal tone and as militant as I could be, I attempted laying down the law. My four year old, again, overly tired, began her rant. This is the second one this week and I must say they are comical now that I know how to handle them! She followed me downstairs to let Cosimo outside and wouldn't follow me back upstairs for a number of reasons she blurted out. I left her there on the last step and walked upstairs to get Dylan back into his bed (probably for the 4th time due to all his sister's disruptions)! She ranted for another ten minutes yelling, with confidence, such statements like:

I don't like this house anymore.
I don't like my Mommy, she's being a bully.
You can have all my Princess dolls and throw them into the trash.
I don't like Princesses anymore.
I don't like my books, I don't like my shoes.
I don't want to sleep. Mommy is mean.
I want to play. I'm not tired.
I don't like my curly hair, I want my hair to be straight.
...
...
I don't like my Mommy....

Mind you, she is hollering these statements out so loud it's hard to not want to stop them. But, silence is golden as she eventually stopped. I went up to her thanked her for quieting down and asked her if she was done with all that she wanted to say. She agreed she was finished but then launched into this finger listing (literally holding up her fingers one at a time) for why she was frustrated and had hurt feelings:

Mommy was Rude. Selfish. Yelling. Mommy was a bully. Didn't get the right bed for me. Mommy was going to leave me alone. Mommy was laughing when it wasn't funny.

She had nine fingers up by the time she finished all her thoughts. I swept her up and placed her back into her bed. Then proceeded to tell her that it was time to apologize-she very cooperatively apologized, as did I (secretly chuckling at the dynamic communication style of this little one) and we ended our night together with a loving embrace.


These shots below are from earlier today-they really capture her personality. Love her outfit? Yes, she picked it out herself and said, 'they match, the dots (on the shirt) are the same color as my pants'. She does this all the time, patterns could be horrifically colliding but she'll have at least one color in her shirt compliment or be the same color as one found on her pants. You can't change her mind on it, either. Once she sorts out her choice, that's it.













She's exhaustingly brilliant.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Glam & Ham.


I couldn't resist. Tomorrow at school the kids have an opportunity to do old fashioned dress-up photos. I see the price of $70 to get the two of them photographed and figured I'd do my own rendition. I'm no pro and quite frankly, there really isn't anything old fashioned about this. Kaitlyn was beside herself with glee. Getting to wear mommy's lipstick and raid the jewelry box. The latter was rather insightful. I have a true fashionista in the makings. She had opinions. Did I mention she had opinions? 

Dylan's curiosity grew the longer he observed Kaitlyn getting dolled up. We grabbed a tie from Steve's rack and a crisp shirt, rolled up the sleeves to make a fit that was nothing shy of 100% adorable. He was ecstatic-and adding the watch to his wrist (it didn't last on his arm long enough for the photos) completed his happiness! I wish I video taped the preparation!

Kaitlyn is no stranger to the camera. She was on stage the minute the sequence top hit her body. She was all poses and glam. My two little hams. I hope they find theater in their future. If I could decide it for them, they'd be cast as leading roles! I won't lie. I did consider the looking into getting professional head shots today. With these two, I am certain any company would want them in front of their camera! Here's to having fun after dinner this evening....being spontaneous and downright silly! Love, Love, Love this kind of play!










Birthday Celebration tidbits...


 The Mermaid Cake.

 Steve's shark....

  
 Sharks & Mermaids welcome.

 The Birthday girl in her birthday dress!

 In Princess attire for cake eating.

 Cousins, just hanging out! Baby Lucas isn't so babyish anymore!




Friday, June 1, 2012

Momma's Boy

It's evident that Dylan is a Momma's Boy. I think any onlooker could pin this title-it's clearly obvious. Just a few notes to capture this momentous label he possesses...for how long, I do not know:

1. When I leave for any given period of time (head upstairs for a quick jaunt to my closet or actually drive away in the car for some afternoon errands) and return, he comes to me with this sad face and says, "Mommy, I can't see you..." "Mommy, I cried."

2. Bedtime routine right now is bit tricky, he truly wants to cling to my neck when I lay down next to him, often nuzzling his head into my shoulder-of course that's after a bundle of goodnight kisses. He's super duper lovable and just wants the comfort of knowing I'm there.

3. He likes to grab my hand and lead the way to where ever it is that he wants to take me or show me while saying, "Mommy, come. Come." It's very matter of fact.

Talk about warm fuzzies. I get them a lot with this little guy.