Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a house filled with knee-high crazy people.
My sister is doing internship right now in Belview. I spoke to her the other day. "D, you would not believe the people that are here."
"Why, because they're crazy?" I asked as I grabbed a pair of scissors out of Turtle's hands before he inserted the pointy end in his ear.
"No, because they seem so normal. You talk to them, and they are all regular, good, and then suddenly they are all like, yesterday I spoke to George Washington."
"That's crazy," I said. "Princess, stop hitting your sister! WE DO NOT--"
"But she does't want to play with me!"
"She doesn't have to play--"
"Yes, she does, because I'm the queen!"
"M, can you hold on for a minute?" I said. I kissed a howling Coco-pop, informed Princess that she was not going to be queen ever ever again if she hit her sister again, pulled Turtle out of the toilet, and picked up the phone. "You were saying?"
"That it's frightening how quickly they go from regular, normal, then suddenly out comes the crazy."
Yeah, I hear that.
Knee-high crazy people in my house. The answer to "come for dinner girls!" Can sometimes be responded to with "coming Ima!" and then "I'm starving!" And then, you know, them eating it, or alternatively, with "soon!" and then with, "I hate that," and then with them not eating it and waking up at two in the morning crying for dinner.
We have princesses and kallahs, we have queens and an obsession for the two of them dressing their little brother up as a girl and calling him Sarah.
Little tiny lunatics.
And the baby. Are they born with absolutely no sense of self-preservation at all? First they smile and worm their way into your hearts. Then starts the fun. The toilet is for diving into, the door is to slam fingers on, the steps are for hurling yourself down face-first. And the garbage. Turtle will not eat tuna, but the can? Delectable. The sharper the top the better.
No, you cannot punch your sister. No, you do not need a warning. No sweetie, Hashem will not cut a hole is the sky, so you do not have to worry about neshamos raining down. Yes, sweet girl, I love you up to the sky and back. But no, we cannot fly there even if we flap our arms very very fast. No, not even if we flap them that fast. No, the table does not look better with blue painted spots all over it. GET THE WIPES! Why are you crying? I should be---
Oh...you made it for me?
Crazy babies.
I sometimes feel like Big Nurse, except my little inmates are so cute, we think their behavior is normal. I am here to tell you that it is not. Because that level of cute is not normal.
It's crazy.
8 comments:
Children are, simply, small bundles of yetzer hara. They do what they like when like how they like, and they gradually learn self-control.
Crazy people, often, do not have self-control either.
It's a rather apt comparison.
Lol, i think this is my favorite post. I love how that description of little kids- right on! Whats even more delicious though is when crazy lunatics act like little men (or women). That you can just eat with a spoon :)
princess--I think so, too!
Can'tstop--thanks! I know, like today when I bought band-aids in a really cheap store and they didn't actually stick, Princess shook her head gravely and say, "They were a good price, but not good quality." With a spoon!
Well said! You sound like a super patient momma!
Oh, I am far from that. I thought I was super patient. Then I had kids. :)
I think this was my favorite post so far. It had me laughing and nodding in agreement. You mean girls also punch their sisters? I thought only boys do that ;). So much for the hope that beH when my girls come along my house will have that calm, princessy, (and kvetchy) feel to it... ;)
I'm not into the whole dividing my gender thing. I've seen sensitive boys and tough girls, boys who love dress up and girls with scabby knees. Each kid is unique, and in my case, it means that Princess can punch with the best of 'em!
I know. I even have a very sweet gentle boy who can sock his brothers well and fine
have a great shabbos!
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