I feel like a major slacker blogger this week. It's been crazy. Since Saturday, after Tim got home, if I haven't been at work, I've been at rehearsal, sometimes both. Other things I've been slacking on: running and getting in shape. I've been doing these exercises meant to strengthen your core, and all I've learned so far is that after three kids in four years, I have no core. I have weak abs that look at my situps/pushups/pilates regimen and go "you're kidding, right? We will never knit together again. Have another baby. That's pretty much all we're good for anymore."
(Sidenote: Abs, that is never going to happen, so shape up or I'll buy some mom jeans to hide you, and no one wants that.)
Anyway. Today was a nice respite because my mother in law was able to visit us, which thrilled the girls and made me pretty happy as well. Hello, conversations with the over-four-feet-tall set! And speaking of conversations, it's getting harder and harder to talk around Miss Mary. To wit:
Me: Since you're here, Sue, I'm going to run to the store real quick. I just realized we're out of bread for sandwiches.
Sue: Well, I was thinking if you wanted we could go O-U-T. But only if it's okay with you.
Me: That's up to Y-O-U, it's fine with me. (Random spelling? I can play that game!)
Mary: I want to go out to lunch!
Sue and I exchanged a look. Mary knows all her letters by sight, and can spell her name and a few select other words without help from us, but as far as I knew, I was still safe with the spell-it-and-she-can't-interject game. She's known for some time that an adult spelling means we're probably talking about something she wants ("I do! Me! That thing you just spelled, I want to do it! Or have it! Is it something to eat?") but this was a new development.
"Mary," I said, "what does O-U-T spell?"
"I don't know," she said, matter of factly. "TARGET?!"
"No," I said. "Not Target."
"I want to go to Target!" This from Anna, joining the peanut gallery.
"We're going out to lunch," I said.
"I want Wendy's," pronounced my blonde walking Zagat guide to preschool fare. I vetoed that because I don't much like their chicken nuggets (what?) and we further negotiated. Lily woke up mad at the world and it started snowing at that point, so we compromised on a drive thru and a "car picnic." Yes, that's as classy as it sounds and no, I don't care.
It doesn't take much to make my kids happy. I kind of like it that way. And as long as Mary things everything spells Target, my little game is safe too.