Are You Smarter Than a FifthGrader Dishwasher?

My Littles are weird.

I mean they have quirks.

Don't get me wrong, they're super sweet, but really set in their ways.

Actually, what I'm trying to say is they only have one type of sippy cup that they will drink out of.

Both of them.

It's like they're twins or something.

Weird.

And they will only drink water.

No milk, no juice, no ade of the gator, nothing.

Super weird.

And great. Except when they are puking.

Which happened again.

And I don't want to talk about it.

Except to offer this advice: Ice chips, good. Red popsicles, bad.

Sigh.

Anyhoo, the sippy cups.

Both Anna Grace and Emily will only drink out of a certain brand of straw cups.

Hey, Playtex, want to send me some samples? Hello?

Which is fine, even though they require an engineering degree to take apart, wash and put back together. I hand-washed so many bottles during the first year, I just decided to let the dishwasher do the work once we graduated to big girl tumblers.

And then the darn thing up and turned against me.

Over the course of a few days I noticed that more and more straws were missing. At first it was just a little annoying and I thought they would turn up. Seeing as the current favorite game of two little soon to be two-year-olds (!) is

let's empty the silverware drawer. Again.

When I mentioned how irritating it was to have 6 sippy cups and only three straws Andy said

I think the dishwasher ate them.

Surely not. Right? We've used these for almost a year, why now?

Guess what?

The dishwasher ate them.

So I had six clean cups taunting me from the cupboard, but only three working straws.

Flashbacks from late night bottle washing began to flood my mind.

So I decided to take action. I wasn't gonna let the man get me down. I've not yet begun to fight. Nobody puts baby in the corner.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, Operation Straw Retrieval.

First of all, are they really in there?



Well, crap.

Or yay! depending on how you look at it.

My first tool of choice was tweezers. If you saw my school pictures from junior high you would learn (and be thankful) that I'm quite adept at using them.

Bless my heart.

Time to put that talent to good use.

Unfortunately, I pushed them further into the mouth of the motor.

Tweezers, you are dead to me.

Then I had an epiphany. (Read, the Littles had left some chop sticks on the floor that they had kindly removed from the silverware drawer. Again.)

Looks like our time in Japan was going to come in handy.

And indeed, it did.



Mama - 3
Dishwasher - 0

Thankyouverymuch.

When Words Collide

Lainey Hope has just turned four. FOUR. Oh my word.

You know what her favorite book is right now?

The Jesus Storybook Bible.

This is not your every day children's bible. It's real, honest and sometimes bloody. Every story literally points to Christ.

And she eats it up.

We have read it cover to cover and she has asked so many questions about life, death, sin, Jesus, storms, grace, baptism, shoe sizes (Goliath), forgiveness, heaven, eating bugs (alive or dead?) and the list goes on.

It's been a great tool to help explain the gospel to our girl. I pray daily for the hearts of my girls, that they would love the Lord and walk the road He has for them. Sometimes I wonder if she's really catching what we've been discussing...

Over the past few months my four year old friend has discovered lying. Nothing major, just trying to cover up something she fears she may get punished for or trying to hide something she did. It's totally normal at this age, part of her cognitive development.

But that doesn't mean it should continue.

So we've been working on it. Sometimes there's punishment, sometimes we talk through it.

There's been lots of talking through it.

One morning a few weeks ago, I was upstairs in the playroom, struggling to stay awake. There had been little sleep for me the night before because my friend Emily had an ear infection and could only sleep if I held her at an inclined position. All night. The girls were playing dress up down the hall when all the sudden Em started shrieking.

Andy called up to Lainey from the living room

Lainey, why is she crying?

Well, she scratched me.

She's crying because she scratched you?

No, I scratched her back.

At this point, she should have stopped. Just in innocent fly-by scratching between sisters. But she had to add....

Because she asked me to.

Oh dear. Now it's over. Start warming up the time-out chair and check the wooden spoon for splinters.

Andy very calmly said

Lainey, I know she didn't ask you to scratch her. She doesn't even know those words.

And then the stand-off began.

Lainey upstairs, nervously chewing on her fingers, looking over the balcony at Andy below, probably thinking to herself

Dangit! Why can't you babies speak more clearly! Seriously, I had over 200 words at this age, catch up will ya!

Andy, staring right back at her, trying to impress the importance of telling the truth, even when the news is unfortunate.

And me, lying on couch, thankful that I don't have to handle this one. Hoping they work it out soon, because I could really use a Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper. And it's downstairs. In the kitchen. And I am not.

For the next several hours minutes Andy calmly said

Lainey, tell me the truth.

And then he stared at her.

And she stared at him.

And I still laid on the couch. Thirsty.

She apparently decided to plead the fifth, because she had nothing to say. At all. Maybe she was waiting for her aunt Sarah, attorney-at-law to come her rescue. Maybe she was trying to disappear. Maybe she was hoping that her sisters would simultaneously rip off their diapers and poop on the floor, causing a ruckus that would lead to the greatest distraction ever.

It could happen.

Finally, about the 15th time he spoke, Andy changed his wording

Lainey, what is the the truth?

She calmly replied

Jesus.

By george, I think she's getting it.