More Zoey-sims

Zoey was walking around the kitchen with a bag of chips. I asked her to sit up to the table or take them outside to keep the crumbs off my floor. She ignored me and got crumbs all over the floor, so I asked her to sweep.

She pulls out the broom and says "Mom, since I'm a princess you are my wicked step mother because you have been mean to me today."

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Mom, you are a bad mom because you need to read your scriptures to make you a good mom.

Mother

The children learned a song in Primary last year (Sunday school for children ages 3-11) called The Family Is of God.

I was playing a CD in the car the other day that included this particular song. One of the verses is all about mothers. The words are:

A mother's purpose is the care, prepare, to nurture and to strengthen all her children.
She teaches children to obey, to pray, to love and serve in the family.

Apparently I'm not living up to the standard because when the song had concluded she said to me, "Mom, when you forget what it is you are supposed to do you can listen to this song because it tells you all the things a mom should be doing."

My husband blames me

We took the kids to the Off Broadway Theater last night to see Robin Hood. My friend Kelly was in the play and so I thought it was a good opportunity to expose my children to the theater.

Zoey, however, was not impressed with merely sitting the audience. At the ripe old age of 4 she felt she deserved to be up on stage. When I told her that that just was not possible she settled for dancing in the aisles. Yes, literally. It started during intermission and lasted clear through the second act. As far as she was concerned the laugh and applause was all for her!

My only regret was that I left my cell phone in the car. Even crappy cell phone video of the rising star would've been better than none, which is what I have.

Pretty

I can't help it. I think my daughter is beautiful. And I try to tell her enough so that she knows she is, but not so much that she thinks that being beautiful is the most important thing.

But one Sunday morning I was just completely overcome by her beauty and couldn't stop myself from blurting out, "Oh Zoey, you really are the most beautiful 4 year old I know!"

She responded, "Well mom, you know, I do have a lot of friends who are awfully pretty, too."

Blame it on the genes

The other morning I decided to make blender pancakes. So I tromped downstairs to find some wheat. Adam, always the inquisitive one, followed me down and asked me what I was doing. So I showed him the wheat I had just retrieved and, figuring this was a prime teaching moment, said "This is called wheat. I grind it up and it turns into flour."

He rolls his eyes a little and says, "Yea mom, I know. That's what Millers do."

Meantime Mania

I HATE mealtime at our house. I mean HATE. I don't know how to convey in the mere written form how much I despise eating time. I detest it with every cell in my body. It brings the whine out in the kids and turns me into the ugly yelling mommy. I HATE mealtime!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My kids are, right now as I type, sitting at the lunch table. Yes, it's after 2:00. No we didn't eat lunch exceptionally late. They have literally been sitting there for an hour and a half. Why you ask? Because, in an effort to bring some sanity to the table I decided that I was going to put the responisibly of eating all their food back on my children. Instead of the begging, pleading, yelling, threatening, crying that usually goes on at mealtime I decided that I would stop trying to make them eat. Instead I explained to them food costs money. That daddy works very hard for the money we use to buy the food. And that when they don't eat I throw food away, which is like throwing money away, and daddy works too hard to simply throw away money. So, whenever they don't finish something on their plate they are required to get money out of their piggy bank and give to me, to pay me for the food that I am now throwing away.

We have a family goal and we are currently saving for a trip to Disneyland. The kids get paid for odd jobs around the house or for toys they don't want anymore (a great way to dejunk I tell you!) and every precious penny goes into their banks so that we can go to Disneyland.

Realizing that if they are forced to pay me it will take us that much longer to get to Disneyland they don't want to give in. But, they don't want to eat, either. So instead they now sit at the table for hours, merely staring at the food on their plate. And teasing each other. And fighting with each other. And whining about their food.

It drives me INSANE!!!!!

Somebody please PLEASE tell me how you manage mealtime at your house. Seriously my next step is going to be a forced month long fast. Maybe if they get hungry enough they will eat anything I put in front of their face.

Some people's children

Adam: Mom, how long does it take to count to infinity?
Me: Forever
Adam: Have you ever counted to infinity before?
Me: No
Adam: Then how do you know?