Shannie is known as the "gopher" at our house.
Mom: Shannie can you get me a diaper, my water, that toy for Millie, a burp cloth....
Dad: Shannie can you grab me the screwdriver, a napkin, mom's water...
Well, apparently it's rubbed off on the brother.
We have new neighbors...
New neighbors built a tree house...
Tree house is for boys only...
Boys don't ever (and I mean EVER) leave the tree house... except for sustenance
So I often hear from the back yard...
Brother/Neighbor: Shannie can you hand me the baseball bat... Shannie can you hand me my water... Shannie can you hand me the ball....
So it was no great surprise when Shannie ran in the house looking for something for the boys to do in the treehouse.
Shannie: I'll bring them monopoly
Dad: Board games should stay in the house so we don't loose important pieces, but you could bring cards.
Shannie: It's okay, I'll just bring coloring books
Dad: I don't know that the boys will enjoy coloring books as much as you do.
Shannie: Hmmm.... but they DO love concerts.
thump thump stomp stomp pitter pat, she sprints up the stairs and runs outside with her pretend microphone.
Dad: "This aught to be good"
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Partly...
Shannie: What does partly mean?
Mom: it's kind of like halfway.
Shannie: but what does it meeeaaaan. i wish you could hear inflection in script, this attempt was the best I could do
She says that a lot. things like "sounds like, it reminds me of, or kind of like" don't work for her. She likes specifics
Mom: It means a little bit of something and a little bit not I know brilliant right
Shannie: Ohhhh Thinking about it...
Shannie: Like in the morning before you've had your coffee... your eyes are partly awake?
Mom: Ha, exactly.
Shannie: And then in the night after my bath I'm partly naked when I'm just wearing a towel?
Mom: yup, you've got it.
Shannie: And after I've had dinner but before dessert, I'm still partly hungry?
Mom: I think you've figured it out.
Shannie: Or when I've done something bad but it's a little bit funny, you are partly mad and party laughing?
Mom: Yes, like that
Shannie: Can i tell you a joke?
Mom: sure... curious as to how this relates
Shannie: Don't worry, it will be partly funny..
Mom: it's kind of like halfway.
Shannie: but what does it meeeaaaan. i wish you could hear inflection in script, this attempt was the best I could do
She says that a lot. things like "sounds like, it reminds me of, or kind of like" don't work for her. She likes specifics
Mom: It means a little bit of something and a little bit not I know brilliant right
Shannie: Ohhhh Thinking about it...
Shannie: Like in the morning before you've had your coffee... your eyes are partly awake?
Mom: Ha, exactly.
Shannie: And then in the night after my bath I'm partly naked when I'm just wearing a towel?
Mom: yup, you've got it.
Shannie: And after I've had dinner but before dessert, I'm still partly hungry?
Mom: I think you've figured it out.
Shannie: Or when I've done something bad but it's a little bit funny, you are partly mad and party laughing?
Mom: Yes, like that
Shannie: Can i tell you a joke?
Mom: sure... curious as to how this relates
Shannie: Don't worry, it will be partly funny..
Friday, May 17, 2013
The honest Truth
So, the honest truth, is that this blog it's my sanity. There are days, hours, minutes, and moments when my sweet, loving, creative, free-spirited daughter, makes me absolutely crazy for the same reasons I cherish her and love her so very much. It's in those moments, when she is treading on thin ice, when her creativity has destroyed one more "grown-up" thing in our house, when I have put away her shoes for the 24th time that day, when I have impatiently waited for 15 minutes for her to simply get in the car and buckle her seatbelt, when I have asked, begged, pleaded and yes, probably bribed her to pick up her dishes, put away her toys, be nice to her sister, don't pull on the dog, please don't lay on the dog, please stay in the house when you are naked... it's those moments, that I take 20 minutes and I write a blog post.
The Honest Truth is that this blog helps me to remember how beautiful she is, what joy she brings to our lives, and what kind of amazing gifts she has to give the world. I FORCE myself to recognize it, because if I don't, I will lose my mind and you people would have to visit me in that special wing of the loony-bin where they keep road weary moms.
Perhaps I should start one about grumpy dwarf for the same reason.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Is It hair washing day?
I'm certain the original transcript of Genesis read "on the 6th day all 5 year olds washed hair, and it was torture." So on the 7th day, God rested.
"Is it hair washing day?" is the daily question around bath-time. If its not hair washing day, she throws a party. literally there are 8 Barbies, a boat house made from a bucket, old shampoo bottles, 3 different kinds of hairbrushes, watered down conditioner to aid the barbie brush-a-thon, boats, cars... you name it it's in the tub. She could (and has) spent hours in the bath tub. But on hair washing day, the merriment is gone. There is no fun, in fact the anxiety level is so high I even want to cry just thinking about having to wash Shannie's now matted, crusty, paint colored, food caked hair. I know what you are thinking, we should seriously wash her hair more than once a week. Yeah... you'd think so, I challenge you to take on that battle, and see what kind of scars you leave with... then you are allowed to judge. Until then... zip it.
Shannie: Is it hair washing day?
Mom: It's Saturday, it's hairwashing day.
Shannie: just a little whiny "but I don't want to wash my hair"
Mom: Tough, you have to. I know, I know, not at all helping the situation
Shannie: a little more whiny Can I play first?
Mom: Nope, if you wash hair without screaming/yelling/fighting/water squirting... then you can play when we are done.
Shannie: crazy whiny now Please, just for a minute
Mom: standing my ground no, let's get this hair washed
all of a sudden all hell breaks loose, screaming, the kind that make you ears bleed yelling, kicking, more screaming, it was terrible. So mom, in all my shining glory, grabs that squirming, yelling screaming then 4 year old, and steps fully clothed into the shower. She was so shocked, she stopped everything and just stared at me. I was furious, and wet. I wasn't careful of her "ears" I didn't do the special cover her eyes so the soap doesn't run in them, I didn't even give her a towel when she fussed about the water in her face, I just held that girl and gave her the fastest, messiest hair washing of her life, wrapped her in a towel and put her in bed.
I would say it rivals shannie in impulsivity. But to this day, it's a great story, it makes us both laugh, and it's a good "threat" when the whining and fighting begins to escalate. Husband says sometimes it's pays to show off a little crazy, I think in this case... perhaps it did.
"Is it hair washing day?" is the daily question around bath-time. If its not hair washing day, she throws a party. literally there are 8 Barbies, a boat house made from a bucket, old shampoo bottles, 3 different kinds of hairbrushes, watered down conditioner to aid the barbie brush-a-thon, boats, cars... you name it it's in the tub. She could (and has) spent hours in the bath tub. But on hair washing day, the merriment is gone. There is no fun, in fact the anxiety level is so high I even want to cry just thinking about having to wash Shannie's now matted, crusty, paint colored, food caked hair. I know what you are thinking, we should seriously wash her hair more than once a week. Yeah... you'd think so, I challenge you to take on that battle, and see what kind of scars you leave with... then you are allowed to judge. Until then... zip it.
Shannie: Is it hair washing day?
Mom: It's Saturday, it's hairwashing day.
Shannie: just a little whiny "but I don't want to wash my hair"
Mom: Tough, you have to. I know, I know, not at all helping the situation
Shannie: a little more whiny Can I play first?
Mom: Nope, if you wash hair without screaming/yelling/fighting/water squirting... then you can play when we are done.
Shannie: crazy whiny now Please, just for a minute
Mom: standing my ground no, let's get this hair washed
all of a sudden all hell breaks loose, screaming, the kind that make you ears bleed yelling, kicking, more screaming, it was terrible. So mom, in all my shining glory, grabs that squirming, yelling screaming then 4 year old, and steps fully clothed into the shower. She was so shocked, she stopped everything and just stared at me. I was furious, and wet. I wasn't careful of her "ears" I didn't do the special cover her eyes so the soap doesn't run in them, I didn't even give her a towel when she fussed about the water in her face, I just held that girl and gave her the fastest, messiest hair washing of her life, wrapped her in a towel and put her in bed.
I would say it rivals shannie in impulsivity. But to this day, it's a great story, it makes us both laugh, and it's a good "threat" when the whining and fighting begins to escalate. Husband says sometimes it's pays to show off a little crazy, I think in this case... perhaps it did.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Family Game night
Papa Smurf (formerly known as grumpy dwarf) LOVES to play games. Husband says it's my fault. We play cards while waiting at the doctors office, we own 4 different types of monopoly. we have an entire closet dedicated to board games. It's a Lehman family addiction (ok... all of us except Husband, he's not so much a fan) So on this particular night we were playing a random game that we got in a Wendy's happy meal a few years ago. In it, you have to accomplish certain tasks in order to progress to the next stage (think Cranium for kids).
They started off pretty easy, go find 10 items that are blue. So the table in littered with a blue folder, paper clip, bowl, toy dog, hair bow... you get the picture.
 |
| Brother needed to make a cameo |
Next: name 3 things that start with the first letter of your first name, Connor: Christmas, Caterpillars, Canopies. Shannie: Sister, Sugar, Sweat
Then perhaps the most fantastic question ever asked of an 8 and 5 year old in the history of gaming: "Yell out 2 things you are great at."
Connor: "Spelling and Math!" (he's an academic masterpiece, and knows it)
Shannie: at the top of her lungs and dead serious "Squirting Ketchup and putting on panties!"
The boy and I fall into a heap of hysterical laughter, and the game abruptly ends. There is nothing that can even compete with that.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Bedtime with Shannie!
Our normal bedtime ritual begins like everyone else. Bath, teeth, books, prayers, bed... that's where the similarities end. my dear daughter must talk herself to sleep. I know, shocking. So we let her have a few toys in her bed to wind herself down.
S: Can I have my toys?
M: What are you playing with tonight?
S: That doll that's in the basement and the barbie that's in the car.
M: Nope, try again.
S: exasperated Fine, my squinkies and the house.
M: Much better, Good night, Love you.
S: Love you
M: Love you more
S: Love you morest
(That's my favorite part of the ritual, someday she'll learn that morest isn't a word, until then... it's cute!)
Papa Smurf (the artist formerly known as grumpy dwarf) settles in with a book and is silent.
Shannie on the other hand... sings, dances, and generally parties herself to sleep. Often the radio gets cranked up to her favorite song and a dance party ensues. As long as it's kept in her room, and it doesn't disrupt anyone else, it's fair game. It usually ends quickly and she's out in 20 minutes or so. I go up, turn off the overhead lights and turn the radio down a few hundred decibels, pull 18 toys from her bed, and tuck her in "tight" while listening to her snore and talk (yup, she talks even in her sleep)
Last night however, dear Husband and I had long tucked in the little darlings. (like 3 hours before, it was nearing 11) the lights were out the music was quiet... eerily quiet.
Me: "Next commercial break I'd better check on Shannie"
Husband: "She has been awfully quiet tonight"
Me: giving her the benefit of the doubt "She did have a busy day, maybe she was just tired"
Husband: "Snort" (you know that snort that means, I don't want to argue with you, but you just said something really dumb)
**Sometime before the next commercial break**
Creak, pitter pat, pitter pat, slam, thump, crash, pitter pat, pitter pat, creak, thump....
Then... the Radio. It was cranked up (and I mean UP) to the spanish music "mariachi" station.
Me: "I'd better go check that"
Husband: giggle giggle giggle (if he giggled... it was really more like a chuckle)
I open the door to her room, turn the Spanish musical channel down a few hundred decibels, and observe the scenario:
Shannon is standing up in her bed, a nearly empty squirt bottle of lysol bathroom cleaner in her hand, and an entire roll of paper towel strewn about her room. She was dancing, singing to mariachi music, using the lysol bottle as a "ukelele" in between dousing her bed, walls, sheets etc. with lysol spray, and having the very best time of her life.
Me: "Shannie, it's very late my dear, what are you doing?"
Shannie: "I was asleep, and then heard this great song, it made me want to clean my bed and walls."
Me: "Maybe we could do this tomorrow?"
Shannie: "But Mom, then the song will be over!!"
Me: shaking my head "Well then why don't you finish it up real quick and get back to sleep."
Shannie: "Ok, love you."
I have no great moral to this story, no great words of wisdom, except perhaps that we should hide the cleaning supplies, give our daughter sleeping pills, or I need to take a class in strong arming a strong willed preschooler. None of which is really practical or necessary. I suppose we will just continue to smile, giggle, roll our eyes, and remember that this phase will pass all to soon. She will be a cynical teenager someday, she will still crank up the music, though I doubt it will be the spanish music channel. I do hope she continues to find joy in music. I have never met a 5 year old with more love for music than that girl. So for now, we celebrate Shannie, all of Shannie. the fun, the frustrating the bizarre and the crazy. I can't wait to see what kind of grown up she will be...
S: Can I have my toys?
M: What are you playing with tonight?
S: That doll that's in the basement and the barbie that's in the car.
M: Nope, try again.
S: exasperated Fine, my squinkies and the house.
M: Much better, Good night, Love you.
S: Love you
M: Love you more
S: Love you morest
(That's my favorite part of the ritual, someday she'll learn that morest isn't a word, until then... it's cute!)
Papa Smurf (the artist formerly known as grumpy dwarf) settles in with a book and is silent.
Shannie on the other hand... sings, dances, and generally parties herself to sleep. Often the radio gets cranked up to her favorite song and a dance party ensues. As long as it's kept in her room, and it doesn't disrupt anyone else, it's fair game. It usually ends quickly and she's out in 20 minutes or so. I go up, turn off the overhead lights and turn the radio down a few hundred decibels, pull 18 toys from her bed, and tuck her in "tight" while listening to her snore and talk (yup, she talks even in her sleep)
Last night however, dear Husband and I had long tucked in the little darlings. (like 3 hours before, it was nearing 11) the lights were out the music was quiet... eerily quiet.
Me: "Next commercial break I'd better check on Shannie"
Husband: "She has been awfully quiet tonight"
Me: giving her the benefit of the doubt "She did have a busy day, maybe she was just tired"
Husband: "Snort" (you know that snort that means, I don't want to argue with you, but you just said something really dumb)
**Sometime before the next commercial break**
Creak, pitter pat, pitter pat, slam, thump, crash, pitter pat, pitter pat, creak, thump....
Then... the Radio. It was cranked up (and I mean UP) to the spanish music "mariachi" station.
Me: "I'd better go check that"
Husband: giggle giggle giggle (if he giggled... it was really more like a chuckle)
I open the door to her room, turn the Spanish musical channel down a few hundred decibels, and observe the scenario:
Shannon is standing up in her bed, a nearly empty squirt bottle of lysol bathroom cleaner in her hand, and an entire roll of paper towel strewn about her room. She was dancing, singing to mariachi music, using the lysol bottle as a "ukelele" in between dousing her bed, walls, sheets etc. with lysol spray, and having the very best time of her life.
Me: "Shannie, it's very late my dear, what are you doing?"
Shannie: "I was asleep, and then heard this great song, it made me want to clean my bed and walls."
Me: "Maybe we could do this tomorrow?"
Shannie: "But Mom, then the song will be over!!"
Me: shaking my head "Well then why don't you finish it up real quick and get back to sleep."
Shannie: "Ok, love you."
I have no great moral to this story, no great words of wisdom, except perhaps that we should hide the cleaning supplies, give our daughter sleeping pills, or I need to take a class in strong arming a strong willed preschooler. None of which is really practical or necessary. I suppose we will just continue to smile, giggle, roll our eyes, and remember that this phase will pass all to soon. She will be a cynical teenager someday, she will still crank up the music, though I doubt it will be the spanish music channel. I do hope she continues to find joy in music. I have never met a 5 year old with more love for music than that girl. So for now, we celebrate Shannie, all of Shannie. the fun, the frustrating the bizarre and the crazy. I can't wait to see what kind of grown up she will be...
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Things I should record and play on repeat all day long....
Please stop licking the baby
Be careful of her neck
If you kiss the baby one more time you'll have to go to time out
Be careful of her neck
NO MORE KISSES!!
no, Millie can't eat hotdogs yet
Be careful of her neck
NO MORE KISSES!!
How about just 1 stuffed animal at a time?
Be careful of her neck
you may only play with the baby when she is awake
NO MORE KISSES!!
oh, Millie does look beautiful, but perhaps you just keep the lipstick/hair gel/eye makeup/markers to yourself.
NO MORE KISSES!!
oh, Millie does look beautiful, but perhaps you just keep the lipstick/hair gel/eye makeup/markers to yourself.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Do ghosts have armpits... and other one liners...
Below are just a few of the great Shannie one liners that we hear all day long... None of them are long enough to make a full post out of but I hope to grant you a little window into the soul of this precious child of mine.
Shannie: Do Ghosts have armpits?
Mom: What would ghosts do with armpits?
Shannie: Scratch them of course!
Shannie: What's a party pooper?
Mom: What do you think a party pooper is?
Shannie: Someone who poops on the floor at a royal ball.
Mom: Well, there is that.
Shannie: excuse me, I farted
Mom: Shannie we don't say those words, especcially at the dinner table.
Shannie: What! I'm just being a truth teller!
Shannie: What!? no pandora in the car?
Mom: We don't have internet in the car.
Shannie: Man, I wish I would have packed my ukelele.
Shannie: How do you make peace on earth?
Mom: By being nice to everyone you meet
Shannie: no, I mean with my hands.
Mom: Oh you mean like this? (flashes the peace sign)
Shannie: Of course (eye roll)
Shannie: Do Ghosts have armpits?
Mom: What would ghosts do with armpits?
Shannie: Scratch them of course!
Shannie: What's a party pooper?
Mom: What do you think a party pooper is?
Shannie: Someone who poops on the floor at a royal ball.
Mom: Well, there is that.
Shannie: excuse me, I farted
Mom: Shannie we don't say those words, especcially at the dinner table.
Shannie: What! I'm just being a truth teller!
Shannie: What!? no pandora in the car?
Mom: We don't have internet in the car.
Shannie: Man, I wish I would have packed my ukelele.
Shannie: How do you make peace on earth?
Mom: By being nice to everyone you meet
Shannie: no, I mean with my hands.
Mom: Oh you mean like this? (flashes the peace sign)
Shannie: Of course (eye roll)
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