We just welcomed baby number four to our household, and in a break from tradition, this one is a boy (on a side note, I’m now 4-4 for guessing gender).
When he’s not sleeping or pooping, he spends most of his time trying to control his hands. To watch him swing them in front of his face, you would think that trying to use his hands was sort of like taking a parakeet for a walk with a leash. You might be able to drag it down around for a second, but then it’s right back up there again.
His sisters, on the other hand, spend their time trying to keep the attention on themselves. They have found that the most effective means to gain attention is to give little brother attention, which means kissing him incessantly until he cries and then trying to pick him up. Let me tell you now, trying to pick him up gets our attention really fast.
Their second method of getting attention is to come up with outrageous demands. Meal times are the worst. One child needs a smaller fork or a bigger cup or a different dinner, another one needs held while she eats, and the third is trying to figure out how to turn our house into a restaurant. That would be cute, except she’s serious. This is not a game. She carefully made a sign for our window that says r-e-s-t-a-u-r-a-n-t, and she can’t figure out why no one has shown up yet. This morning she made an “open/close” sign, figuring the customers may have been scared away by our irregular hours. In an effort to curb this behavior, I tried to explain zoning laws, and how you can’t legally open a restaurant in our house, but it had no effect.
She also wants me to film her while she cooks, so she can have her own cooking show. However, since she can’t cook, I have to give her the camera so she can film me while I do the actual cooking. Then she hands the camera back to me so she can mix it up. Whoever is watching this cooking show is going to be exceptionally dizzy.
Of course, maybe they can cook better than we give them credit for. The other day, we didn’t get them a snack as fast as they wanted. However, the kitchen was unsupervised, and so they decided to help themselves. Four slices of bread, a can of whipped topping and some cold cereal later, they had made “cake.” Nobody ate it, but with that much whipped topping it probably tasted good. It just didn’t look very appetizing is all.
So we have a restaurant, thanks to my oldest. We serve cake, though I’m not sure I can recommend it. And now her little sister is packing for a camping trip, which would be fine, if we were planning on going camping… Oh well, guess I better pull out the pup tent.
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