Fun with Hay Bales
So.
Brooklyn.
She's four - actually, she's almost five. I can hardly believe that. She talks pretty much constantly. She loves her little sister (and sometimes Maddie isn't in the mood for that love). She's smart (well, of course, I think so) and she's quick-witted and sometimes she's downright hilarious. This kid has a sense of humor and she knows how to use it.
But the really funny stuff happens when she doesn't think she's being funny.
Like the other day when she was in big trouble with her Daddy. She was sent upstairs to her room where she proceeded to wail and cry at her terrible misfortune. We could hear every word she was saying - even with the door closed, even though we were downstairs and her room is upstairs. There were cries of, "Can I come out now?" and hollers of, "It's not fair!" But the real kicker was, "Mommy! Daddy's breaking my heart!"
Yes, she keeps us chuckling. Most of the time we have to cover our mouths, though, so she doesn't see that we think she's cute or funny. She can be so dern ornery sometimes that we have to be careful not to encourage her more disrespectful, just-plain-naughty side - even if it is downright funny sometimes.
Of course, not everything is funny.
Discipline has been an issue lately. They seem to come in spurts, these days of constant discipline and correction. Guess this is one of those "spurts." The worst thing that could happen in Brooklyn's world is for me to utter those dreaded four words, "Go clean your room." The kid hardly has anything in her bedroom at the moment, so it can't be that hard, right? Wrong! I've been trying to teach her to take it in steps - first the clothes, then the toys, then the trash. But she cries and wails every time, and then she'll maybe pick up one toy which she is then suddenly very interested in playing with instead of putting it away. (The scary thing is, I remember doing the exact same thing. I doubt there is a kid out there who hasn't done this.)
The other day, cleaning the room reached a whole new level of awful. Brooklyn was in her room, drawing the process out even longer than usual. Every time I poked my head into her room, I saw that nothing was happening. I tried all manner of threats to no avail, and I'm quite sure my eyes were bulging and my hair was falling out by the handful by the end of the first hour. Finally, I went in to sit on the bed and direct the whole affair, which I hate to do, but is sometimes the only way to just get it done. But as I stepped into her room I noticed two things. First, Brooklyn was crying. That didn't really mean much to me since she'd basically been crying the whole time. But second, her nose was bleeding and that one got me worried.
I quickly began asking her questions. I could barely understand what she was saying through all the crying but I was finally able to hear, "get it out, Mommy!" Get WHAT out? After a while, Brooklyn finally calmed down enough to tell me that she had stuck the "pony food" up her nose. She has this little Barbie horse that came with its own hay bale which comes apart into convenient cubes that the horse actually eats and swallows. (The cubes may later be retrieved out of the stirrup. It's like magic. And very realistic.) I have to say, I'm amazed we still have any of those tiny pieces. There must have been one on the floor and my child, in some strange trance, decided to see how it fit up her nose.
We tried blowing it out a few times but it didn't budge. Finally, Daddy came to the rescue and the whole deal was done very quickly. Apparently, Sean has the ability to make her blow her nose with more of the "umph" necessary to dislodge a hay bale.
And no, she did not get to keep the tiny hay bale cube. Miraculously, though, she went on to clean her room quickly and with no complaint.
Oh, Brooklyn. You are such a mess. But you are a treasure and a joy to your parents. Please don't stick any more foreign objects up your nose.
Brooklyn.
She's four - actually, she's almost five. I can hardly believe that. She talks pretty much constantly. She loves her little sister (and sometimes Maddie isn't in the mood for that love). She's smart (well, of course, I think so) and she's quick-witted and sometimes she's downright hilarious. This kid has a sense of humor and she knows how to use it.
But the really funny stuff happens when she doesn't think she's being funny.
Like the other day when she was in big trouble with her Daddy. She was sent upstairs to her room where she proceeded to wail and cry at her terrible misfortune. We could hear every word she was saying - even with the door closed, even though we were downstairs and her room is upstairs. There were cries of, "Can I come out now?" and hollers of, "It's not fair!" But the real kicker was, "Mommy! Daddy's breaking my heart!"
Yes, she keeps us chuckling. Most of the time we have to cover our mouths, though, so she doesn't see that we think she's cute or funny. She can be so dern ornery sometimes that we have to be careful not to encourage her more disrespectful, just-plain-naughty side - even if it is downright funny sometimes.
Of course, not everything is funny.
Discipline has been an issue lately. They seem to come in spurts, these days of constant discipline and correction. Guess this is one of those "spurts." The worst thing that could happen in Brooklyn's world is for me to utter those dreaded four words, "Go clean your room." The kid hardly has anything in her bedroom at the moment, so it can't be that hard, right? Wrong! I've been trying to teach her to take it in steps - first the clothes, then the toys, then the trash. But she cries and wails every time, and then she'll maybe pick up one toy which she is then suddenly very interested in playing with instead of putting it away. (The scary thing is, I remember doing the exact same thing. I doubt there is a kid out there who hasn't done this.)
The other day, cleaning the room reached a whole new level of awful. Brooklyn was in her room, drawing the process out even longer than usual. Every time I poked my head into her room, I saw that nothing was happening. I tried all manner of threats to no avail, and I'm quite sure my eyes were bulging and my hair was falling out by the handful by the end of the first hour. Finally, I went in to sit on the bed and direct the whole affair, which I hate to do, but is sometimes the only way to just get it done. But as I stepped into her room I noticed two things. First, Brooklyn was crying. That didn't really mean much to me since she'd basically been crying the whole time. But second, her nose was bleeding and that one got me worried.
I quickly began asking her questions. I could barely understand what she was saying through all the crying but I was finally able to hear, "get it out, Mommy!" Get WHAT out? After a while, Brooklyn finally calmed down enough to tell me that she had stuck the "pony food" up her nose. She has this little Barbie horse that came with its own hay bale which comes apart into convenient cubes that the horse actually eats and swallows. (The cubes may later be retrieved out of the stirrup. It's like magic. And very realistic.) I have to say, I'm amazed we still have any of those tiny pieces. There must have been one on the floor and my child, in some strange trance, decided to see how it fit up her nose.
We tried blowing it out a few times but it didn't budge. Finally, Daddy came to the rescue and the whole deal was done very quickly. Apparently, Sean has the ability to make her blow her nose with more of the "umph" necessary to dislodge a hay bale.
And no, she did not get to keep the tiny hay bale cube. Miraculously, though, she went on to clean her room quickly and with no complaint.
Oh, Brooklyn. You are such a mess. But you are a treasure and a joy to your parents. Please don't stick any more foreign objects up your nose.
Oh, that made me laugh! She IS your daughter. Plastic hay bale cubes?! What in the world?!
ReplyDeleteBrooklyn, I'll show you real hay when you come to Colorado. :-)