Small Scribbles

Charlie snuck out to the forbidden boxes in the garage, the ones holding the off-season clothes, the shoes, and his favorite, the boot box. "Charlie, put those back! You don't need them!" He lifted his serious chocolate eyes to my stern face, "But I do need them, Mom." And I gave in until he peeled them off his feet and slam dunked them down in the back hall. Then I pounced and returned them righteously to their allotted storage box. We played this sneaking/pouncing game for weeks. Charlie won. The garage is a long way from the shoe shelf in the back hall. Plus, Charlie was right; he did need those boots. Turns out they are an integral part of his vivid imagination. Charlie as Boromir . Charlie as Paddington Bear. Charlie as The Knight Whose Boots Always Squeak Yellow boots are for bunnies too. This is Charlie's newest stuffed animal, Peter. No, not Peter Rabbit. Peter Jackson . So how 'bout you? Do you have a kid with a vivid imagination and a great pr...

Stuart rang this morning, "Have you seen the Google homepage yet?" We had. John did a little Gollum dance in front of the computer to let us know. "Come quick! Hurry!" Morse code. The kids all joined John in his little Gollum dance to celebrate their new favorite form of communication. We read Cheaper by the Dozen a few years ago when the little ones were too little so, my chore time pep talks, "Frank Gilbreth would roll over in his grave if he saw you clearing that table one plate at a time," only generated blank stares. Finally, after Mr. Gilbreth came up for the twentieth time Faith got curious. "WHO is Frank Gilbreth and WHY do you keep talking about him?" Out came Cheaper by the Dozen . We rolled our way through the chapters, holding our sides. A story of a motion study pioneer who practiced his techniques on himself and his supersized family with hilarious results. A born teacher, a man who made the most of his time. We were spellbound. ...

When we replaced our fridge this summer we deliberately opted out of the water on the door option. The children slop and drop and we end up with our own personal swamp oozing down the door and into a puddle on the floor. We thought we'd forgo that this time around. Stuart has an affinity for cold water so he set up a two container system in the fridge. For some reason this works. The children can use these without spilling but they still haven't quite got the system down. This bothers John to no end. I'll let the sign he duct taped to the containers explain how it works: ATTENTION Lackwits and Laggards! THIS and only THIS water container shall be used until empty. Whoever empties it or notices that it is empty shall move this sign to the other container and then refill the empty container and return it to the refrigerator. ~The Water Nazi

"John! Quick! Get out of your sweats and put on jeans! We're going to be late for bell practice." whine. mumble. moan. "I know you don't like jeans. Too bad. You are old enough to start thinking about proper public attire and sweats don't cut it! whine. mumble. moan. Lauren comes in fresh from the shower with dripping wet hair. "Come here. Your hair is stringy. It will just take a minute to trim off the ends... Charlie! Get your shoes on!... John! Jeans! Jeans!... No, Charlie, take the yellow boots off. Get your sneakers!" "I can't find my sneakers." "What do you mean you can't find them? They should be on the shoe shelf." "I looked. They aren't there." "Look again! Be quick! Don't step in the pile of hair. " "I know where they are, Mom." "Faith, you haven't brushed your hair yet! Come on !" "I will, Mom, but I know where Charlie's shoes are. Superman is wearin...

"Have you taken a picture yet?" Stuart asked me this when he walked in the door around dinner time. I had the counter covered with baking sheets and fajitas. Chicken Fajita Pizzas were on the dinner menu. I'm a one-thing-at-a-time girl and putting pizzas together was my one thing. "Take a picture of what?" "Of the kids. Have you seen the kids?" "Oh. That." I had seen them but it hadn't occured to me that it was a moment. The pizzas, you know. Stuart put down his computer case and, still in his jacket, he grabbed the camera to record the children (re) blackening their faces. Then he pulled brooms from the pantry and equipped each of his chimney sweeps with one. And he didn't even mind that dinner wasn't quite ready or that some of the black came off on the wall around the mirror.

One dollar! Who will buy us for just one dollar? Down here! One shelf below Timmy the Tooth on VHS. Down. Behind the green press-on nails. Yes! Us! The Goon Shoes! We'll fit all of your children with these handy straps! We're bouncy! We're fun! No! No, lady! Don't make your boy put us back. We're not junk! You don't know! You, you middle-aged woman with big feet! Please! Pleeease take us home! Don't leave us here under these big bikini bottoms! Put down that sweater! Put it down and look at your son sproinging down the aisle of Second Hand Sams in our green and purple majesty. We're made for each other! Yes? You said yes?! Oh, you won't regret this! I promise! Watch that first step out of the store, son. We've got bounce but no traction. Don't fight! You can't all wear us at once. Two shoes. Two feet. That's how it goes. Set the timer. Wait your turn! Wait! Yes, big brother, we do turn vacuuming into a circus perform...

We have boxes full of Stuart's childhood toys. Matchbox cars and antique trains with hardly a scratch on them. He was such a gentle child. Not me. All my stuff ended up in the trash. When I was a child, I played with my toys like Toy Story Sid. I gave my dolls haircuts (crew cuts, really) and pierced their ears with straight pins. Poor little darlings. I drew on their vinyl faces with pen . Once I put a plastic handpuppet on a lightbulb, just because. It gave off a lovely smoldering smokey smell as he met his doom. My children have inherited my destructive gene. They build Barbie catapults out of K'nex and fling Island Barbie off the island. There are dents up near the ceiling of the little girls room that attest to this creativity. We have had Barbie crewcuts and amputations at the knee. You might think there is only one way to play with a puzzle. Put it together. Take it apart. Put it in the box. Nope. Not if it is a puzzle of the map of the earth. There's the problem of ...

Stuart brought home an electronic mouse repeller that emits a high pitched noise. Apparently mice do not find this sound pleasant and will not take up residence anywhere near the device. Our cat is a mouse-hunting sissy and so we resort to mouse deterrents of the manmade kind. Naturally, the children were curious and we explained how it worked. They let this bit of information sink into their brains and take root. At this very moment, four of them are rolling around with their hands over their ears in front of the little electronic speaker squealing in agony over this deadly painful sound that their human ears cannot hear. However, their squealing is deadly painful to my ears. And it makes me wonder. Is this the kind of creativity that Mary Grace refers to when she worries about the future employability of our children? (In case any of you are wondering if my spell checker is AWOL...The child who took these photos loaded them onto the computer under the heading Screeming Mice. This s...

Faith is in love. I discovered this a few nights ago on my late night rounds. The light in the girls' room was blazing. It was nearly midnight so I reached in and snapped the switch off. "Don't turn it off, Mama! I'm reading." Seeing the position she was in ... ...I made a wild guess. (Well, it wasn't an incredibly wild guess because I am a connoisseur of fine children's literature.) "Are you reading Pippi Longstocking, perchance? "Yes. And I need the light to see." Look at her. How could I turn the light off? I'm so excited. It's the first chapter book that she's picked up all by herself and is reading cover to cover. Pippi is the first character she has bonded with all on her own. It's my book. Finally, a child who likes to read what I liked to read in days gone by. In spite of the late night, she greeted me early the next morning with bits of grass clinging to her hair and back. "Pippi starts her day with forty-thr...

I wore the covers off the Little House on the Prairie books when I was a kid. Much of my pretend was informed by the trek that Ma and Pa made across the prairie with Laura and Mary and Carrie in tow. My sister and I turned the picnic table into a makeshift covered wagon complete with Pet and Patty, our trusty saw horses. I loved the way Ma could turn a grassy campsite into a home complete with a vase of flowers and freshly ironed linens. The reason for this trip down memory lane? Our kitchen sink has been removed to make room for... ...this new and improved model. I'm thankful for the years spent at Grandpa's summer bootcamp where I learned that dishwashers are for sissies. Grandpa's dishwashing rules: Fill the tub with scalding water. Hotter! Hotter! Glassware first, silverware next, plates and finally the pots and pans. Lauren and John dry. They've never been to Grandpa's Bootcamp. Grandpa would roll over in his grave if he knew that these two whippersnappers a...

Drat-tic-us - interj [LL drat Used primarily by Charlie. Invented by Claire as she reminds us every time Charlie says it.] (2008) 1: darn 2: shoot 3: Curses, foiled again! Example: “No, Charlie, you don’t have enough money to buy a robot.” “Oh, dratticus.” “No, Charlie, you can’t have a cheesestick. It’s almost dinner time. “Oh, dratticus.” Sounds best delivered with a pouty lip and a little stamp of the foot. Used for expressing minor disappointment. For major setbacks see: FLING, ROLL as in fling yourself to the floor and roll about vigorously. Planting a kick on your mother is a bonus. As in you get bonus time out minutes. DRATTICUS is never used in these instances. ito - suffix [SJJ discovered by Charlie in Skippy John Jones : A lengthy picture book. It’s funny but only once if you’re over ten. There’s no limit to funny if you are younger.] (2008) 1: Add to any English word to create an authentic Spanish word 2: Used most frequently when Charlie is in a cheerful or h...

The little girls and I spent a few hours bringing order to their jumbly bedroom. I patiently helped them sort because all the while this post was taking shape. TO KEEP... ...a hollow, bottomless, ten inch bamboo stalk known affectionately as The Bottomless Cup of Yang Tsu Tse. A frequently used prop for pretending. ...a rock from Lily. ...a frog bobblehead "for playing with my Barbies or my Littlest Pet Shop or for just making his head bobble all around." ...a vanilla extract bottle, "just because." ...a wire heart-shaped basket "for picking blackberries" ...a pencil wound with a yard of thread with a paper clip attached to the end because, "we use it to pick stuff up with." TO GIVE AWAY... ...a tangle of bead necklaces ...two Christmas lanterns ...one sparkly purple spandex dress TO EXCLAIM OVER... ..."It's my bear! My little purple bear that goes with this little shirt! I thought I lost him!" TO RESCUE AND DISPLAY... ...this ...

The library basket is restocked with freshly picked stories and last night John and Lauren and I curled up on the sofas and transported ourselves to bookish places. It was peaceful. The three little ones were off in another part of the house. I didn’t question this because they often disappear to their rooms in the evening for a round of pretend. The keyboard sounded softly in the distance. The little ones can only play a few bars of music but it was really playing because somebody had flipped the demo switch. I pushed the music to the back of my mind and continued to thumb through the pages of my book. Gradually, the music began to get louder. And louder. What I didn’t know was that the threesome was acting out scenes from Zelda and that they were using the piano as background music. Background music that was most definitely in the foreground. The notes reached a deafening crescendo and then the children joined in with some shouting of their own. “Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy! Ship...

The kids have been spending the late afternoons in the pool. Last summer, Stuart and I swam with them quite a bit but I guess their closeness overwhelmed us so we don’t swim so much this summer. When I watch my swimmers from the deck, they occupy every corner of the pool but as soon as I tiptoe my way into the shallow end they clump up around me like curdled milk. For a few minutes I tolerate this kicking, splashing mob but after a while I shake them off and seek solace in the deep end. They follow me. “Back off you guys! Why do you insist on sticking to me?!” “We have to stick to you, Mom. You’re a dead elephant and we’re the flies.” Faith giggles and gets as close as she dares. I turn around and pretend to ignore their jabbing knees and elbows. John scooches up right behind me just shy of touching. I turn around quick to give him what for. As soon as we’re face to face, John shoots backward across the pool. Ah, blessed space. But not for long. A second later, I can feel him breathing...

Charlie woke up the other day with an upset stomach and as he stumbled pale-faced and gagging into the playroom, four little mothers sprang into action. John helped him to the bathroom, Lauren brought him a cool wash cloth and Claire grabbed a bowl in case of further emergencies. Somehow Faith knew the best thing to bring comfort to a sick boy. She laid a pillow in a laundry basket and covered it with a towel. Charlie curled right up and spent a very comfortable morning laying in his nest on the living room floor surrounded by doting siblings who periodically dropped what they were doing to bring him an ice cube to suck on. They were not at all deterred by this little sign that Faith attached to the end of the basket. Six hours later Charlie was much better and begging for pancakes and cheesesticks and the laundry basket bed was dismantled for more mundane tasks.

A cat climbed over the fence and settled in our backyard. A kittenish cat. Orange. Orange fur and orange eyes. We let the dog out to shoo her along. Henrie skipped out into the yard; the cat arched her spine and ruffled her thin fur. Henrie backed up and then lay down in a Hey, everything's cool. This yard is big enough for the both of us position . The cat maintained her offensive stance for a few more minutes and then she, too, relaxed. Henrie is fired. The Big Guns stepped in, "Go, cat! Shoo!" "No, Papa! Don't send her away. We like her. We named her!" "I'm sorry! We don't need one more animal. Shoo! Shoo!" The cat sauntered away...around to the front of the house. "Grout's back! She doesn't want to leave. Please can we keep her?" She slept on the front porch all night and I was awakened in the pitch black by horrific hissing and barking. Our cat had discovered the marmalade intruder and her hissing scared the dog who...

Stuart and I were getting ready to go for a walk after dinner. "Listen, guys," I said. "I want you to be sure to clear the table, sweep the floor and do the dishes before you play." I looked sternly at the three children dressed in Stuart's button-down shirts and baseball caps. "Do you understand? You may not play spies until after your chores are done. And one more thing. No mustaches! Do you hear me? You may not draw mustaches on your faces! "Why not, Mama? Is it dangerous?" "No, Faith, it's not dangerous but this morning when you were spies somebody rubbed their mustache off on the wall in Charlie's room." "Oh. How 'bout crayon? Can we use crayon to make mustaches?" "Nope. Nooo mustaches." And out the door we went, stepping around Charlie who had fallen flat on his face while trying to walk in a pair of Stuart's shoes. When we got home, the chores were done and all of the children had added sungla...

Faith organized this game. She made the crowns and drew the checker board with huge pieces of chalk. Stuart and I marveled at her creativity and took pictures and joined her for a game. A mind-numbingly boring event. Not much action comes with being a checker game piece. Even after one has "been kinged."

Faith sculpted this little lady... ...and John staged the holdup. Barbie goes green. Fairy costumes by Lauren, Faith and Claire. Update: Today for a school assignment, Claire supplied directions on how to make your own Barbie fairy clothes. "First you have to get chives. If you don't have chives you can use grass. Get seven leaves, two big leaves and five little leaves. Get a couple of flowers if you want. You have to get the tape and the scissors and a Barbie. Then you tape the little leaves around Barbie for a skirt, a shirt and sleeves. Tape the two big leaves on Barbie's back for wings. You tie the flowers to the chives and you tie the chives around Barbie's head to make a crown. Don't forget, Barbie needs a fairy house made from leaves and chives and twigs."

This is John. A boy who is lives outside the box. Return on Thursday to read his story. ************ Wordless Wednesday