Tag Archives: kids say

Olympic Gender Bender

Lily: Is that a boy or a girl skating?

Me: That’s a boy.

Lily: Are you joking? He looks like a girl!

My husband: A lot of the figure skating costumes look a little girly, but that’s a boy.

Rose: Only girls can black skate.

Us: Black skate? What do you mean?

Rose: What they are doing right now.

Me: That’s ICE skating. Not black skating. And boys can ice skate. Boys can do anything girls can do, just like girls can do anything boys can do.

Rose: No! Boys can’t wear costumes!

Me: Yes, they can actually. And they do.

Lily: What about that one? That’s a girl, right?

Me: Nope. That’s another boy. We’re watching men’s figure skating, so they will all be boys.

Rose: But it looks like they are dancing! Boys don’t dance!

Me: Some boys dance.

Lily: But it looks like girl clothes!

Me: Some boys wear girl clothes. Some girls wear boy clothes. Anyone can wear any clothes they want.

Lily: You’re kidding me, right?

Clearly I haven’t prevented these girls from learning gender bias, but outside of social isolation, who can? Oh well. We’ll keep talking and they’ll get it someday.



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Big Hair

I was singing Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” and Lily asked me if I’d made the song up. She’s recently learned that I am not the musical genius she once thought I was. While I may sometimes alter the words to a preexisting tune, I do not write these Top 40 Radio songs myself.

Whenever she asks me about a song I’m singing, I pull up a youtube video of the song. This time, big-haired Bon Jovi showed up rocking out “Livin’ on a Prayer” for her. Rose and Lily watched him singing together.

“You see how big his hair is?” I said. “In the 1980s, a lot of people in bands made their hair big like that.”

“You mean their hair was all static-y?” Rose asked. “He has a lot of static in his hair just like me!”

Yes. That’s exactly what I meant.


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My Beads

The other day I was wearing the strand of pearls my mother gave me when I gave birth to one of the kids. The horrible thing is I can’t remember which kid I got which piece of jewelry for. It’s all blending together.

Anyway, I was wearing the pearls and Rose comes up to me and starts playing with them.

“Mommy, I like your beads! They are so pretty.”

“My bees? What bees?”

Ah, 3 year old pronunciation.

“No, your beads! They are pretty pretty beads.”

And I laughed, because I’m a horrible mother.

“Oh honey, those are pearls.”

And that is when I realized that these kids need a full tutorial on gemstones and jewelry.

And also that Rose has very expensive tastes, but given her obsession with fashion and the fact that her favorite My Little Pony has diamonds on her butt, I suppose I already knew that.


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Mystery Success

Two weeks ago, Lily brought home a certificate that said “Congratulations”, but she had failed swimming Level 1 for a second time.

Today we returned to the daily grind of swim lessons. Lily has not been back in a real swimming pool since that fateful Swim Fail day. We have not practiced any strokes or talked about swimming much since our first round of lessons ended two weeks ago.

Yet today when we returned to swim lessons, Lily was promoted to Level 2.

I don’t get it.

Neither does Rose, who takes swim lessons at the exact same time as Lily and thinks she was also promoted to Level 2. She wasn’t, and I have very little confidence that she will make it this summer. It’s going to be interesting tomorrow when she sees her big sister abandon her for a different area of the swimming pool.

To quote the fight I keep having with her:

“No! I’m in Level 2!”

“Not yet. You’re still in Level 1. Maybe if you work hard you’ll be in Level 2 soon!”

“NO!!!! I’m in Level 2! I swam in Level 2 today!”

No. I promise you. No.



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What She Heard

Yesterday the big girls were biking around the block when Lily got out of my view. I heard a car honk and the paranoid side of me was filled with dread that Lily had been hit by a car. I raced ahead to see if I could see where Lily was.

Rose was right behind me riding down the sidewalk on her bike.

I saw Lily within 15 seconds. She was absolutely fine. She had just been hidden from view by a car parked in a driveway.

Rose, however, was NOT fine. Apparently she got very scared that she’d lose me forever in that 15 seconds I was running away from her. She was pedaling as fast as she could crying hysterically.

Keep in mind that I was in plain sight the entire time. I was maybe a half a block ahead of her. Not that far. The girl lives in fear that she’s going to get lost. You could see our house from where we were!

I explained to her that I was sorry that I’d raced ahead, but I had been worried about Lily and I had wanted to make sure she hadn’t been hit by a car. I had needed to make sure Lily was safe and in that moment it had been more important than being inches away from Rose. I explained I would never leave her. And that I HADN’T left her since she could SEE me.

Tonight my husband took Rose for a bike ride and she would barely pedal because she was “too scared” because of what happened yesterday. Here’s what she apparently thinks happened on her last bike ride.

1) She fell off her bike onto the grass. (She did, but she got back on right away and wasn’t hurt or scared at the time.)
2) I left her because Lily got hit by a car and died.

Healthy Lily was standing right there when Rose explained what happened! It’s a miracle!

I wonder what else she gets out of the explanations I give her for things.


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“I Don’t Want It”

We recently bought Lily a new bike. It’s one of those fantastic princess numbers with a carriage and streamers in the front. She lucked out and got the bike for no reason at all. We discovered Rose was big enough for Lily’s old bike, which triggered our “should-be-a-birthday-present-but-we-need-it-now” purchase of Lily’s new princess bike so both girls could ride bikes at the same time.

Lily’s old bike is a pink number with ladybugs on it. I bought it at a garage sale and the previous owner had pasted Hello Kitty stickers all over it. It’s a perfectly cute bike, but it truly doesn’t compete with Lily’s new princess bike. Lily’s new bike is especially appealing for Rose, the little girl who is so obsessed with Cinderella that for most of the past 18 months she wouldn’t wear any color but blue. Rose was pretty jealous when we bought home Lily’s new bike. She’s ridden it a few times. Actually, she’s ridden it more than Lily has because Lily is scared of the oh-so-tall height of the new bike. We’re working on it.

I felt bad about Rose not getting her own new bike, but hand-me-downs are an important life lesson. If there’s something perfectly good available for you, you need to use it. Just because your sister gets a new bike doesn’t mean that you also get a new bike. Still, I felt a little guilty that this other bike was so appealing to her. I promised to jazz up her old bike, but then I discovered that this bike existed.

Damn you, Disney. Are you trying to kill me? You just want us to go flat broke, is that it?

When we saw this number, we decided Rose MUST have it. We were worried it was limited edition and ordered it right away. We figured we could give it to her for her birthday, but we didn’t want to wait that long. Her birthday is not until October and my husband and I are SO excited about this bike that we want to give it to her now.

So, we came up with a plan. Rose still uses a portable potty seat in public. It’s driving me crazy, but she refuses to go potty without it. I am still carrying a freaking potty seat bag wherever we go. It’s extremely inconvenient. Any attempt to get her to go potty without it is met with hysteria. She has a real phobia about using the toilet without the potty seat because she once tried to go without it on her own and fell in. No matter how much I promise her that I won’t let her fall in if I’m there to help her, she is still terrified.

I’ve been trying to bribe her with various Cinderella items for months now, but now we have the ultimate bribe. If she stops using the potty seat in public, she gets the Cinderella bike.

We showed her a picture of the Cinderella bike and told her the plan. At first she was very excited, but when it came down to it she was still too scared to use the potty without the seat.

Now she walks around with a printed picture of the bike and shows it to everyone she sees. She goes on and on about how cool the bike is. She asks people if they want the bike. The fact that she loves and wants this bike is undeniable. It was made for her little Cinderella soul.

But here’s what she says “See this bike? Isn’t it beautiful? Look at how it has Cinderella all over it? Do you want this bike? I don’t want this bike because I like my potty seat to keep me safe.”

Come on, Rose! I really really want to give you this bike! It’s sitting at Walmart for Site to Store pick-up RIGHT NOW. Use the potty without a potty seat so we ALL can enjoy it.


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Every single sentence out of Rose’s mouth starts with the word “Mommy”. “Mommy, you forgot to get me some milk!” “Mommy, look at me! I’m standing on the stepstool!” “Mommy, listen to what Pinkie Pie said! *snorts*”

It’s adorable, but it grates on my nerves. It gets to the point where I answer in an annoyed voice by the end of the day because the 10 million insistent “Mommies!” are never followed by anything important. I know I should love hearing her say “Mommy!” so much, but yeesh, kid, you can talk without saying my name!

I just found out from my husband that when she’s so programmed to saying “Mommy!” all day that whenever she talks to him pretty much every sentence out of her mouth starts like this: “Mommy, I mean Daddy”.

I’m a little fuzzy on the details, but I vaguely remember being told I did something similar as a kid. When I talked to my dad, I would either say that or just “Moddy”. It got to the point where my dad’s nickname from me was “Moddy” for a while– a combo of Mommy and Daddy.


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My girls have been obsessed with the 1982 movie musical “Annie” lately. Both girls have been singing “Hard Knock Life” and “Tomorrow” non-stop. Me, I’m partial to “Little Girls”, especially now that I have THREE of them. There’s so much about Miss Hannigan that I respect more now that I’m an adult, even though she is a mean, drunk whore I hope I’ll never be like. Still, sometimes I can relate to having an abundance of girls driving me crazy.

I remember when I was a kid I wanted a locket like Annie more than anything in the world. I’m not sure what’s so appealing about Annie’s broken locket to little girls, but it’s a pretty consistent thing. We ALL want Annie lockets. Why? Do we want to be orphans with long-lost secretly-dead parents? Do we want to live in an orphanage? Why do we want to have a locket that symbolizes so much sadness? There’s a nice bit of hope in Annie’s locket, but it’s a false hope.

Whatever the case, I had an inkling my own little girls might want Annie lockets, so I’ve been on the hunt for some super cheap ones. I found some for $4 each at Walmart and, as I suspected, Lily and Rose were beyond ecstatic about them.

Now that Rose has her Annie locket, she keeps asking me to sing “Tomorrow”. She claims that you can only sing “Tomorrow” when the locket is open because that is when the sun shines out of the locket and you can see a picture of Annie.

I think she’s referring to the opening credits in which headshots of each character are shown through the broken locket.

Side note: Did you know that Edward Herrmann, Richard Gilmore from “Gilmore Girls”, plays President Roosevelt in “Annie”? Every time the girls watch it, I stare at FDR and try to figure out how THAT Edward Herrmann is the SAME Edward Herrmann as Richard Gilmore. I can’t see it. But it’s true somehow! I can hear it a little bit when he obnoxiously orders Daddy Warbucks to sing “Tomorrow” with Annie, but looks-wise it’s baffling.


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According to Rose, she and Violet are the same size.

“Violet is the same size as me! We’re both medium!”

Violet is not quite 1 year old and weighs 17 pounds. Rose is 3 1/2 years old and weighs 35 pounds. She’s been consistently 90th percentile or higher for height her entire life. Violet wears size 9-12 months and Rose wears a girls’ size 5 or 5T (They seem the same to me, but maybe I’ve transitioned wrong twice now?).
To say Rose and Violet are the same size is ludicrous. We’re not sure what she means by this. Does she really think she’s as small as Violet or is it something else?

We keep asking her if she is bigger than Violet and she’ll admit she’s taller or “Tall Medium” while Rose is “Small Medium”, but she still claims they are the same size. Even though Rose is almost the same size as Lily for real, she says she is not the same size as Lily. Lily is “Big” and “Tall”. Lily and Rose weigh the exact same amount and Lily is only a few inches taller than Rose. People think they are twins all the time.
I don’t get it. Violet is clearly little to me. She is smaller than the other two girls were at this age. Every 9 month old we meet is bigger than Violet and Violet is almost 12 months old!

But no. She’s medium and clearly the same size as a 90th percentile 3 1/2 year old! Rose said it so it must be true!


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A Chocolate Story

One of the saddest things about Lily being allergic to cow’s milk is that most candy bars are off limits. You might not think of it, but almost all chocolate contains milk. Lily has never had the joy of biting into a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

A couple of years ago, I found a type of organic chocolate bar that was dairy-free. I believe it was this one. Unfortunately for Lily, it was also extremely dark chocolate. I know it brings into question my status as an adult or at least as a woman, but I hate dark chocolate and I’m pretty sure most little kids do too. I’m a milk chocolate girl. Dark chocolate tastes too bitter to me. This particular brand of chocolate bar was the most bitter chocolate I’ve ever tasted. It was almost on par with the bittersweet chocolate used in baking. Whenever I tasted it, I wanted to spit it out.

Ghirardelli makes a dairy-free semi-sweet chocolate chip that tastes pretty decent, so I would offer the chips to Lily if Rose and I were eating Valentine or Halloween chocolates. But if Rose and I were eating candy bars, Lily wanted the chocolate that looked like what we were eating. It tasted so bitter that I can’t imagine any little kid would like it, but she kept eating it.

Then the other day, I noticed Ghirardelli also makes a dairy-free semi-sweet chocolate bar for baking. We were supposed to toast s’mores at a party later that week. When we got the bar home, we tasted it to make sure it wasn’t secretly bittersweet baking chocolate. It wasn’t! It tasted great!

And Lily had a revelation.

“This is really good! Mommy, I didn’t like that other chocolate, but I love this chocolate! That other chocolate tasted bad, but I ate it anyway.”

Why did she eat it if it tasted so bad?

“I don’t know. Because we were all eating chocolate…”

I wonder if she was pretending she liked the chocolate because the rest of us were drooling over our own chocolate?



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