It's got Mary-Beth all over it

I found this little poem while out on the interwebz searching for copywork quotes for Jonah. Who does this bring to mind?

Singing Time
by Rose Fyleman

I wake in the morning early
And always, the very first thing
I poke out my head and I sit up in bed
And I sing and I sing and I sing.

Your honesty is refreshing

Mary-Beth came to me this morning wearing her most innocent look. You know the one: the chin is pressed to the chest, the eyes are looking up at you over the glasses, the bottom lip is sticking out. That look. Knowing her as I do, and having seen that look before, naturally I smelled a rat.

Her: Mommy? Jonah almost throwed that car at me.

Me: Really? He almost threw that car at you?

Her: Yes, he did. He almost throwed that car at me and it keeps making me mad every day.

Me: Hmmm. Did he throw the car at you, or did he almost throw the car at you?

Her: He almost throwed it.

Me: Ah. Well, why would he throw a car at you? Did you throw a car at him?

Her: Yes, but I keeped missing him.

Now we're getting to it.

Who asked you?

Mary-Beth: Mommy? When I'm 7 years old, will my feet touch the floor when I'm on the toileeyet (toilet)?

Me: Yes, I'm almost sure of it.

Mary-Beth (after a pause): Mommy? How old are you?

Me: Thirty-eight.

Mary-Beth: Wow! That's a loooooong time ago!

At least she knows the right answer

Me: Mary-Beth, are we supposed to put the whammy bar up our nose?
Her: Nnnnnnnegative.

That takes care of that

Mary-Beth (in a voice so low it's almost a whisper): Mommy? There was a ear twig crawling by my toes on the ground over outside by the garden.

Me: Oh, you know that ear wigs can't hurt you, right? Did you walk away from him?

Mary-Beth (same low whispery voice): No. I killed him with a shubble.

That'll work.

That might be a problem.

(Jonah, calling from his room to Mary-Beth's room.)
Mary-Beth!..... Will you come help me organize?

(Mary-Beth, calling back in a sing-song'y voice.)
Nooooooo.

(Long pause, then Jonah again.)
Mommy? Will you come help me organize? Because I don't know what "organize" means.

"Mommy? Swinging high on the swings is a weally. impoh-tant. job."

For the record, she should get paid for it. She's weally. weally. good at it.

And the wisdom to know the difference

Mary-Beth has become something of an informer in recent months. Don't tell her any secrets, and don't do something tattle-worthy in her presence.

On Easter she tattled on her cousin Roman. I reminded her that it's not alright to tattle unless someone is getting into something dangerous. Y'know, someone's left the yard, fell off the swings, licking the barbecue, all that normal stuff kids do. What? Your kids don't lick the barbecue? Hm. Maybe mine tastes better. Anyway...

She came back about 20 minutes later and tattled on Roman again. I asked, "Mary-Beth, are you tattling?" She giggled and replied, "Nooooooooo. I'm not tattling. *gigglegiggle* I'm tell-ling."

Pardon me. My mistake. Carry on. ;)

Are those cobwebs?

Jonah flopped on the couch after lunch today. I asked him if he was sleepy, trying to stifle the joy from my voice at the prospect of naps. "No, my tummy just hurts a little bit." I remarked that his tummy has been hurting after every meal lately. He replied with a sigh, "Probably it's because I'm almost 6 and I'm almost an old guy."

I wondered about those wrinkles.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Mary-Beth: "Mommy? I like bananas."

Me: "You do?"

Mary-Beth: "Yeah, but I'm not a monkey."

Heard from the back yard...

Dan: Mary-Beth, you may not throw snow at Jonah's face.

Mary-Beth: Oh.... right...

Jonah's Evil Plan

I was on the phone with Melissa a few days ago when I heard a noise from the boy's room that can only be his dresser hitting the wall. Of course, I go investigate. What I found had nothing to do with the dresser, still not sure what the noise was about.

I did, however, find Jonah standing on his bed's footboard - teetering on one foot, really - with a big long stick in his hand. On the end of the stick was a cup that, when exposed to light, will glow in the dark. The cup on the end of the stick was wavering dangerously close to the lightbulb on the ceiling. The light bulb is exposed because the fixture's shade has given up its ghost to a golf ball. Ahem.

So if you know me at all, you know that my first instinct is to grab the stick ("Gimme that!") and shoo the boy off his bed ("Feet go on the floor!"). For some reason, something in me just had to know what was really going on so instead of my usual growl, because trust me, we've been here before, I simply asked Jonah what was going on.

"Son, what's goin' on?"

"Don't worry, Mom. It's aaaall part of my evil plan."

Cross my heart hope to die, he looked me dead in the eye and, as if he were telling me he'd put his shoes away, he assured me that the scene I'd happened upon was indeed no accident, but it was all part of his evil plan. Relax, Mom. Got it covered. Nothing to see here. Please go back to your dishes or whatever it is you do. Melissa, still on the phone, was shouting, "Oh my heck, did he just say "evil plan?" Find out the plan! What's the evil plan?!"

"Uhhhhmm, er, uhhhh, what's your evil plan, son?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"OK, sooooooo, I put this cup on the end of this big stick, and I knew if I couldn't reach the light from my bed I could get there from the table or maybe my dresser. Sooooooo I stand here and I reeeeeach and try to put this cup on that light bulb. But there's only one problem." (He's got his little finger-gun pointed at me. That's how he points. Finger gun. Cocked a little to the side.)

"There's only one problem? Hm. What's the problem?"

"Yeah. I don't really know how to get the cup back down."

"Son? Would you like me to charge your cup up for you so it will glow?"

Finger gun. "That'd be great."

I took the cup off the stick, charged it, and handed it to the boy who was already under his bed with his sister, waiting for the charged cup. I left the room - with the stick, which is now in Toy Purgatory with the golf ball - and finally let the laughter out.

So what did I learn from this? Well first, I think I'm a little too quick to jump to the "Gimme that stick!" approach. That over-in-an-instant, no-nonsense, how dare you act like a kid approach. How grinchy am I! If I took the time to ask him what's really going on a little more often, instead of just thwarting his evil plans, I might just be shocked and entertained. I don't think I stopped smiling the rest of the day.

And second? Seriously, what is that kid watching on television? Evil plans? Really? Time to unplug.

Watch out, boys.

Jonah: Mary-Beth! We should go to Cameron and Jesse's house to play today!

Mary-Beth: No, I don't want to go to Cameron and Jesse's house because Jesse is always mean to me because he is mean to me.

(pause)

Jonah: I can easily handle Jesse.

Right you are, son.

Jonah, tonight at the dinner table, out of the blue:
"Mommy? A five-year-old is not an old man."

This one's for Jordan

Just so you have an idea of what you're in for in about 3 years.

Mary-Beth, from the bathroom: Mommyyyyyy! I pooooooped!
Me, going in to wipe her: Good job, baby!
Mary-Beth: Yeah! I pooped one BIIIIG one and one yeeeeeeettle one.



Thank you for sharing.

Fascinating.

Jonah (from the back seat of the only other woman in Dan's life, his Monte Carlo): Mommy? Do you like to hot rod this car?

Me: No son, I don't.

Jonah: Oh, because Daddy loves to hot rod this car.

Me: Oh, rrrrrrrreally.

If you're into Chicken Pox parties, gimme a call.

We've got 'em, we're happy to share. Bring lollipops. :-)

Mary-Beth was checking out a mole I have on my cheek.
"Mommy? Do you have chickit pops too?"

Fellow knitters!

My friend Betsy turned me on to this opportunity to knit for a good cause. Knit (or crochet) scarves for the participants of the January 2009 Winter Special Olympics! Here's a link to the 4-1-1 on Coats & Clark's web site (they're the sponsors, I believe) where you can find more information and the free pattern.

Thanks Betsy! :-)

Tomato, tomahto

Mary-Beth: Mommy, I don't like lettuce. I only like salad.

"Pete & Repeat were on the fence..."

Jonah: Mommyyyyy! I hurt my penis on my bike!
Mary-Beth: Mommy, me too. I hurt my penis, too.

Is that right? Fascinating.