From the Mommy Files…

Archive for September 2010

I turned by back for just a moment, to check the dinner cooking in the oven. I guess that’s all it takes. 😉

The girls were happily playing and coloring together. There were giggles, no screams. I guess I should have been suspicious. I peeked over and they looked fine.

A few minutes later, Bebs came to ask me something, and she was covered with marker.

Yep, tattooed from head to toe.

I didn’t know if I wanted to yell or laugh.

What the heck?

I hadn’t seen anything like it for about 19 years, when I went to a friend’s party and saw his brother passed out on the couch. Some of the partygoers had taken the liberty of drawing on him with magic marker. I’d wondered how long it took marker guy to remove his “tatts”. 😉

I can assure you there was no alcohol involved, and Bebs was wide awake and a willing participant.

I asked what happened.

Boo: I drew on the Bebs.

Mommy: Why? We don’t draw on each other.

Boo: She wrote on me first.

Mommy: What?

Boo: Well, she wanted me to do it.

Mommy: Is that right? We don’t draw on anyone, even if they want you to.

Boo: Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it would be OK.

Mommy: Why would it be OK?

Boo: Cause it’s fun, and she liked it.

Mommy: Never, never, never, draw on your sister! Or anyone else!

So Boo went to time out and I began to feverishly scrub the Bebs.

I prayed they were using the washable markers.

Well, I got half my prayer answered.

The purple came off easily. The green on the other hand…nope.

It was a little green marker, which I’d stashed at the back of the drawer, that came with a craft project we recently did.


Why didn’t I get rid of that?

Bebs laughed as I tried to wash the marker off.

I told Boo that Daddy was going to freak out.

Boo: Mommy, don’t be mad. Don’t cry. We were having fun.

Mommy: There are other ways to have fun.

Boo: I guess so. But keep that in the back of your mind.


Boo came over and I noticed she had quite a bit of marker on herself as well.

Time for baths!

Thankfully, the marker is pretty much gone, except for some faint green on the Bebs’ hands.

Everything came off her face, neck, arms, legs and feet. Now to tackle her clothes.

It is funny, but I couldn’t let them know that I thought it was funny.

I kinda wish I would have taken a photo of my tattooed toddler, so I could show them when they were all grown up, and we could have a good laugh.

But I didn’t want them to think it was funny so they’d do it again.

Although, something tells me there will be more tattooing in the future.

OK, now to get rid of all the markers that aren’t washable.

A tattooed toddler.



Remember that old Warner Brothers cartoon where the man finds a singing frog?

The frog sings to the man: “Hello my baby, hello my honey. Hello my ragtime gal!”

He takes him from agent to agent, hoping to cash in on this amazing find. Everywhere they go, the frog will not sing, but as soon as they are outside the door, the frog bursts into song.

My kids are like Michigan J. Frog!

I don’t expect I’m going to cash in on them or anything, but I do think that people think I’m smokin’ the funny stuff when I tell them that my girls sing and dance. Sometimes we’ve been able to capture it on video, so there is some proof. Other times, as soon as we turn on the camera, the show stops. Uggh!

Boo can sing you any song from Elli Kokkinou’s Sto Kokkino CD, or selections from “The Wizard of Oz “ and “Hello, Dolly!” among others.

Bebs can sing “Hello, Dolly!”, “Twinkle, Twinkle,” even “Over the Rainbow.”

Now of course, if we ask them to sing in front of someone, they get all shy.

These two don’t act remotely shy when it’s just us.

Why is that?

I wonder what’s going through their heads when I ask them to sing…


“Hey, I’m not a trained monkey who’ll perform on demand!”

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t rehearsed today.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You think this is free entertainment to wow your friends? Get over it lady!”

“What do I get for this performance?”

Surely you can think of other things.

Still, I wonder why they get all shy. Hmmm….

Perhaps it’s a phase. Perhaps there’s no hope of a career in show biz. Perhaps they are temperamental artists who only “perform” when the mood strikes.

Who knows.

For now, I will enjoy the times when they do sing.

Like this morning, Bebs gave me a rousing rendition of “Hello, Dolly!”

I did get her to repeat it for her dad. So at least he knows I’m not delusional.

But really, my girls do sing and dance.

I happen to think they are pretty extraordinary. But I’m just the mom.

I want them to share their gifts with the world, and feel good about it.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to become a nutty stage mother. No worries.

But come on, sing baby, sing! LOL

For now, I’m just like the guy in the frog cartoon. What can you do?

Well, I hope I haven’t lost my mind.

I had so much fun making and serving hot lunch for the kids last year that I volunteered to do it again.

It had been a crazy morning, and while I normally arrive at school in plenty of time to prepare lunch, I was in a rush. It was a bit frenzied, but it all came together.

On this first Friday, the Parents’ Club sponsored a pizza lunch.

Bebs and I – unfortunately on our 3rd stop of the morning – which meant this could go downhill at any moment – picked up the pizzas.

We arrived at school, and well, I would have paid money to watch this show. There wasn’t anyone around, so I tried to balance the 5 pizza boxes on top of the stroller, while I pushed it toward the school. This would have been fairly simple if I had the regular stroller. But I only had the umbrella stroller, which is nearly impossible to push and steer with one hand. I found myself laughing at one point. This was comical. Bebs was furious that she was strapped into a stroller. Oh the horror!

Luckily, a helper was at the door. Saved!

I ran into the kitchen to cut up some watermelon. I thought Bebs would lose her mind. She wanted out of that stroller and fast. I cut as fast as I could. I tried to tell her a story, give her a bite of watermelon. Forget it. All she kept saying was, “WALK!” She can walk now and she was not going to be tethered to this contraption any longer.

Once we were out of the kitchen and setting up, I set her free. She ran around, squealing with joy, as if she’d discovered freedom for the first time.

The kids came out for lunch.

Something was different.

These kids barely ate their pizza. Seemed strange to me. Last year, they couldn’t get enough pizza. Frankly, I never met a kid who didn’t like pizza.

So I asked. “Do you like pizza?”

All the kids responded with a resounding, “YES!

Then why weren’t they eating it? No clue.

The kids seemed to be in a big hurry to start recess. Most didn’t finish their lunch.

They ran around, burning off some energy. I wished I could take it and bottle it up for my own future use. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Bebs happily ran with them, singing “Ring Around the Rosie,” and falling at the appropriate time. Of course, everyone got a kick out of her.

Back at the table, several kids were finishing up. I made a point to introduce myself to the new kids and say hi to the other kids.

Just then, last year’s Lunchtime Casanova perked up.

Hi BooBoo’s Mommy,” he said slyly. “Did you make lunch today?

I said yes.

Will you make lunch for us every week, again?” he asked, with a grin.

Again, I said yes.

Good!” he said. “Cause I like you!”

This kid cracks me up! Four years-old and he’s quite the little flirt.

So I’ll see you next time?” he asked.

I responded in the affirmative.

You didn’t tell me your name,” he said.

Kyria Maria,” (Mrs. Maria) I said.

I like Kyria Maria. Do you guys know Kyria Maria?” he asked the kids around him.

Then he gave me his biggest smile and went off to play.

About then, Bebs was starting to lose it. Sensing the impending meltdown, it was time for us to make our exit. It had been a long day and she’d been really good. Time for her to take her nap.

Another hot lunch day, another story.

This is why I like to work the hot lunch. Never a dull moment.

Wonder what’s in store next time…

After much anticipation, Boo finally started school this past week.

If she had her way, she would have returned two months prior.

That morning, everything went fairly smoothly.

We arrived, and the assistant from the 3 year-old class took her by the hand and walked in her into the 3 year-old room to meet the new kids.

Soon, Boo came out. She had this strange look on her face. She said, “didn’t anybody tell her? I’m in the 4 year-old class!” Yes, she is.

She knew her new teacher. They hugged, and Boo went to her new room to have a look around.

It was a short day. The kids did a few projects. They met some new kids.

Then there was a brief church service, to kick off the new year. Shortly thereafter, it was time to go home.

How was your first day?” I asked.

Fine,” Boo responded, with a hint of sarcasm.

Hmm…I expected a bit more than that.

One of the moms mentioned that when she peeked in, Boo seemed a little overwhelmed. It’s the new kids. She’s always like that for a bit when there are people she doesn’t know. Maybe that was it.

She didn’t tell us much about her first day, so we didn’t press her.

The next morning, I went to wake her up.

I’m not going to school!” she protested.

This is from the girl who asked for two months when the first day of school was?

I asked why, and this was the response:

There’s no recess. I’m not going because there’s no recess this year.

I tried to contain the laughter.

She’s got the No Recess Blues!

I explained to Boo, that the previous day was a short day, and they really didn’t get a snack break (after which is the first recess) and there was no lunch since it was a half day (the second recess of the day comes after lunch).

That’s why there was no recess. I don’t think she believed me.

She finally came downstairs, and sat down to breakfast.

Are you excited for school today?” her dad asked.

“I’m not going,” Boo said. “They don’t have recess this year. I think I need a new school!

She’s got the No Recess Blues!

I explained to her dad that it was not a typical schedule, and then reminded Boo that on this day it was a regular schedule, and there would be two recess periods. I promised her, and she reluctantly agreed to go.

When we arrived at school, she asked someone if there would be recess that day. The response – two recesses – was the affirmation she sought and she went happily on her way.

After school, she proudly reported that there was indeed recess – twice – and it was OK to stay there.

She had a small homework project, which she completed with zeal.

The next day, she was happy to go to school, and when I picked her up, she eagerly described the events of the day and announced she had another homework project.

We came home, completed her craft project right away, and went right to playing. Later she said, “Can I do more homework?” I told her she finished her homework already. She said she wanted to do another project that she could keep at home. I didn’t want to mess with her new found passion for homework.

I did my best to cut the shape of a person out of construction paper (poor, distorted thing) and she gleefully decorated it, similar to the one from her homework assignment. When her father came home, she proudly presented her “school homework” and her “home homework.”

Hopefully she will always have enthusiasm for homework.

In the meantime, I have to get creative, so I can give her some similar “home homework” too.

So we’ve cured the No Recess Blues.

Wonder what’s going to be next!

Well, it’s been a little more than a week since Bebs began walking on her own.

It was a very exciting moment – she got up and walked about six feet, then stopped, sat down, got up and walked back. She’s hasn’t stopped since.

Nothing’s more important that walking – and I mean nothing. Walking is more important to her these days than food, sleep, anything.

Now, when we go for walks, Bebs doesn’t want to go in her stroller or her little car. She wants to walk.

“Walk!” she says. “I’m walking!”

So the other night, when we went on our after-dinner stroll, we let her walk.

I tried to take her hand. “No hand!” she said.

I told her she had to hold my hand. “No hand!” she insisted.

We met a bump in the sidewalk. I advised her of the impending obstruction.

“Big bump!” she said. Most times she got over them, at which time she’d yell “All right!” and other times she’d fall, and just say, “big bump!” once again. She’d get up and be on her way.

Then we got to the corner.

“Hold Mommy’s hand so we can cross the street,” I said.

“No hand! Walk!” I told her weren’t going any further unless she took my hand. She refused.

We don’t cross the street without holding an adult’s hand. I’ve explained the rules. Boo knows this and I don’t think I’ve ever had an issue.

After she began screaming at me, I picked her up and carried her across the street. You would have thought I took away her favorite toy. I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t come out to see who was torturing this child!

As soon as we crossed the street I put her down. She walked again and was a happy camper.

The scenario of the big bumps was repeated.

Then we got to the corner. Same story. Just press repeat.

Bebs was so not happy with me. “Big girl!” she said. “I’m walking!”

Sorry, Mommy’s the boss! I picked her up at every corner, and put her down after we crossed the street. She was so angry with me. Too bad.

Miss Independence.

18 months-old, about a week walking on her own. And she doesn’t need me anymore.


This morning she was attached to my leg, so go figure. Guess it had nothing to do with walking outside.

Miss Independence.

Someone once said to me, “See the toddler and see the teenager.”

Oh boy. I’m in serious trouble.

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 51 other followers

BooBoo BeDoux

Bebs LaRoux


Latest Tweets

Content is registered and protected. Registered & Protected