Miscellany

For Sale or Trade
*3 pairs of barely worn size 4t Children's Place jeans
Several outfits consisting of perfectly darling long, hot, ugly pants with matching ugly shirts that don't make you a princess.
*2 brand new pairs of tennis shoes, size 8. These also are ugly and do not make you beautiful.

Please do not ask about the size 9 or 10 summer dress shoes with a heel. While they do not fit anyone in this home, they are absolutely not for sale for any price.

Will trade for 6-7 warm-ish princess dresses and matching tights. Tights must come with detailed instructions on how to convince the princess to wear them.

Interested parties should contact the frazzled, exasperated, weary mother ASAP.

I am having a very difficult time with Avee right now. I'm pretty sure it's all normal and whatnot, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to endure. She is a force to be reckoned with.
See these two pictures?

Notice what Avee's wearing in both?

They were taken a week apart.

Wonder what she's worn everyday in between these two photos?

And to bed?

Yeah. The same thing.

It's impossible. I've even let her go out in this dress to sort of let her learn by natural consequences. Today it was 10 degrees, she had this on an some pink polka dot slip-on shoes. She tells me she's cold. I seize the moment and begin teaching her about the importance of warm clothes when there is snow and ice on the ground. She tells me it's not her dress making her cold, it's the car. I have never been able to outwit the way she manages to manipulate reality to suit her.

There have been two times I've started an hour and a half early with the full on war, to get her to wear actual clothes. There are some places I have to go that I can't bear to be frowned at for my bad parenting. Both times, she has had the pants off before the door is closed from coming home. And then she *hides* the "ugly hot clothes" in an attempt to keep me from finding them and making her wear them again.

I love her hiding place. Because 3-year-olds don't think closing a bathroom door is ever necessary, so this is an ideal hiding place.

In the middle of our screaming crying fights (her screaming, me crying) she screams, "Stop calling me Avee! I'm PWINCESS AVEE!!!!"

Here's the interesting thing: She doesn't play with princesses, she doesn't watch princesses, we don't even own any princess books. This isn't a learned behavior y'all. This is a birthright.

In other news:
Last Saturday was the funeral of J's assistant. J thought it would be better if he make a nice, quiet, non three-ring-circus appearance, and was going to go alone. Bo caught wind of his plans and insisted on going. We told him it would be boring. We told him it was a funeral. He was adamant. As he was getting his shoes on he said, "Will I see L___?"

J, without thinking said, "No, he's been cremated it will just be...."

I interrupted loudly with the exaggerated throat stutter. It comes to me quicker than "ACK! BE QUIET! HE'S FIVE!" so I began, "uh-uh-uh-uh-UH!"

Some people may think I'm overly protective of this 5-year-old, and you may be right. But often times my "protecting" is directly related to his tendency to obsess over new information. When we can sit down and have along discussion with him about something, it often helps. But he will go to school and tell all his classmates how they will someday be ashes in an urn. And then he'll ask if we can buy an urn for him to take to show-and-tell and then he'll wonder how ashes go to heaven and how can we tell him smoking is bad for him if they make ashes and we make ashes and then my head will explode and J will come home smiling and say, "How's my beautiful family tonight?" I will be forced to join Avee in kicking his shins and running away.

I just know these things.

So, we said no more about cremation and they went to the funeral. But not before I issued a severe warning in J's ear, "Not a word about cremation."

When they got back I asked them how it went and at the same time J answered, "It was kind of lame", Bo answered, "It was GREAT! But they didn't say anything about Daddy being his boss or working at __________ or anything!"

That night after Bo and Avee had been put to bed and threatened the usual threats of dismemberment if they get out of bed without good reason kissed and and sung to and lovingly cherished, we were downstairs watching a fascinating film. You may have heard of it? A New Hope? Absolutely scintillating dialogue.

And we hear Bo call from his bed, "Mom, Dad? I need to ask you a question."

"What Bo? It better be good, and hurry up!" (If he wakes the other kids, so help me...)

"Uhhhh....If you don't have a favorite fishing spot, where do they put you when you die?"

I can't even remember who answered, or what was said, but we both laughed really hard. And then I turned on J and said, "You told him about cremation, didn't you!?" He promised he didn't, but there WAS an urn there, and they did discuss L____'s wishes for his remains, at the funeral.

Poor poor Bo. He dreamt all night about dying too soon before he could find a suitable fishing spot.