No More Naughty Stool

I'm up in the middle of the night with another idea to blog about.  Probably it was just the call of the cookies...

Superboy broke the "naughty stool" today. 

I was trying to be all like Supernanny.  I've been going out of my mind the past week because for some reason the word "butt" is hilariously funny to four-year-olds.  Now, I have no problem with butts, but I'm a bit annoyed having to listen to the word repeatedly every two seconds.  And when I asked him to stop, he started mouthing it to his friend, the Princess. 

That's just cheek.

So, in my best Supernanny fashion, I designated a stool in my bedroom the "naughty stool".  And it worked too.  Each of the ten million times he had to go into my boring bedroom to sit on the stool made him wonder why he said butt once again!  (Okay, now that I think about it, this is a new definition of the word "worked".)

Except today while he and the princesses were running around the house, and I was doing my best to ignore them running around the house since it was raining and they couldn't run outside, he fell against the naughty stool and broke it.  Broke one of the legs completely off.  No more naughty stool.

And I can't really be upset.  Because I was the child who would have, unthinkingly, broken any number of things.  Mom used to complain that anytime she put her soda can on the floor, my feet would magically find it and tip it over.  No matter how many times she warned me it was there.  (Since I moved out she has gotten a coffee table so it's not an issue when I visit and I feel more like a successful walking grownup!)

In fact, a couple months ago at a friend's child's birthday party, I was asked to carry a bunch of utensils and the watermelon slices outside, and of course tried to do this all at one shot, which resulted in half the watermelon on the floor.  And I just sighed and realized that old Angie had struck again, and at least my mom wasn't around to remind me that I need to think before I act.

It also made me realize that Superboy will probably always suffer with this "not thinking" problem that I have as well.  Maybe I should cut him some slack at times so he doesn't picture his mom yelling at him when he's a grownup too. 

"No more naughty stool, Mom!"

Ha ha, Superboy.  There are at least a dozen more chairs in this apartment.  I'm not cutting you THAT much slack. :)

Ideas for getting more movement out of a small space on a rainy day:

ANIMAL MOVEMENT RACE

Start the kids at one end of a long room (living room, hallway, etc) and ask them to move across the space like an animal. 

Brainstorm a few unusual animals beforehand and write them down so you don't end up like me saying, "uh... frog... again."

Do this as a race ("First one to mom picks the next animal!") or take turns.  Join in with the kids and burn some calories!  (I'm trying to "think like someone who likes to move" more since I can't afford a gym membership and stay home with the kiddos at the same time.)

Enjoy!

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat...

Waiting for Christmas has not gotten any easier for me in the past 30 years.  Well, okay, I'm assuming that my first two Christmases I didn't really know what was going on, so that's only 28 years of torturous waiting.  I used to alternate between moping and jumping up and down at my mother-in-law's house on Christmas Eve, but now that we have Superboy and Little Miss, my husband wants to do our own family Christmas around our tree here in our apartment on Christmas Eve morning.  Then we travel, when most other people are moping and jumping, and not on the roads.  I find this fantastic!  One less day of waiting!

But it still doesn't change the fact that I have two more days to go before opening the presents wrapped under the tree.  AND I have to act cool because I'm home all day with Superboy and Little Miss, and I don't want THEM to go all crazy. 

It's hard to act cool when inside I am seven-year-old little Angie, bouncing off the walls with excitement.  It especially didn't help that today I was babysitting the two princesses.  And it was raining.

We managed to have a calm morning building train tracks across the living room floor.  Then for lunch we played "Restaurant" in an attempt to get the kids excited about eating leftovers.  But no one was that excited about quiet time and after that the lack of fresh air and running room really started to get old.

Still, we held out until the princesses were picked up.  Then Superboy and I each grabbed an electronic device to fiddle with separately but together in the living room.  And I nursed Little Miss until she fell asleep and I started worrying that she'd chomp down with those two new teeth. 

"Hey, Superboy," I whispered.  "I'll give you another cookie if you go grab the binkie from the crib".  (Note, that's ANOTHER cookie, as we had cookies instead of dinner.  AGAIN.)

Superboy went running to the bedroom.  Then back again to the kitchen, tossing me the binkie on the way.  Then he emerged with three cookies. 

"One for you and two for me," he said. 

"No, no, no, wait a minute," I said.  "You have to give me half that third cookie." (You expected a mom-response, right?  Wrong!  Angie strikes again!)  "And don't tell your dad I gave you cookies for dinner..."

:)  Yum.

Here's an idea for rainy days:

PARACHUTE SOCKS!

Grab a small bedsheet and all the balled up socks you can find.

Everyone holds an edge of the sheet.  Try to space yourselves evenly.

Toss the socks in the middle then wave your arms up and down until they go flying!

Now make the kiddos gather them back up.  Which they will.  Faster than you've ever seen them clean up before!

Repeat as long as you can hold their interest.  Once that flags, grab a couple extra sheets to toss on top the the kids have them them crawl around on the floor.  Call them turtles. :)