Fondly Four

If the last few months is any sort of indicator of what age four is like, I'm very much in favor of this age. Age four is undeniably divine.

Conversations can be light, yet meaningful. Or discussions can delve deeper than thought possible with the interminable inquiry of "why"?

"No" is often received as an acceptable answer.

The potty is nearly an entirely independent endeavor.

Amusements become an extended individual activity.

Organizing play-dates with friends becomes an enjoyable experience for the parents, as well as the children. Children can finally understand the concept of "taking turns". (Note this idea does not work as well with siblings.)

Getting dressed no longer requires trying on fifteen outfits prior to finding the "perfect" ensemble.

There is often a meeting of the minds when it comes to behaving badly.

The thought of being mommy or daddy's "little helper" is about as exciting as going to Disneyland.

Don't get me wrong, we still have plenty of trials and tribulations. But, really, age four is fantastic!

Happy Birthday my little VV! We love you!



You're growing up so fast! Hugs and kisses even though you dragged us to Chuck E Cheese for your special birthday dinner. Maybe next year we can partake in the Cinco de Mayo festivities at Chili's or On The Border (Hint Hint).

"Mean to Me"

As with any siblings, my girls squabble over just about anything.

I believe that the more I get involved and the more the girls try to involve me, the worse the squabbling becomes. So, I try hard, to let them work it out.

I will let each of them complain about the other one to me, with only encouragement of how they should fend for themselves. I usually refuse to take sides unless it's obvious that one child clearly behaves poorly or acts too physical. When the complainer approaches me, I often let her sit on my lap so she can tell me her woes.

Most recently, when Dagny becomes upset with Valerie, she will walk toward me, her shoulders slumped forward, lower lip puffed out and say in a soft, sweet voice, "Mommy, Varee mean to me."

She will sit in my lap. I will rub her back. But after a minute or two, she's ready to rejoin the fun.

I turn my attention to some other household task. Within minutes, I often glimpse Valerie darting by in search of refuge. A second later, Dagny usually crosses my path with her arm cocked and ready to strike.

It's Not Your Fault

Valerie's school this week decided to make it "Teacher Appreciation Week." A school flyer outlined that each day the students are expected to bring a specific item for each teacher. Monday, we took flowers. Tuesday, we brought candy. Today, we gave Jamba Juice gift certificates. And tomorrow, we have Bath & Body Works hand soap to offer. You get the sick idea.... Mind you, these are new teachers who have been in the classroom for less than a month.

As we purchased the hand soap today, Valerie asked what we were doing and why. As I explained to her the purpose for our expenditure, she asked if we could also purchase something for her old teachers, Miss Elba and Miss Olivia.

I told Valerie that we could not buy the soaps for her old teachers since they no longer work at the school. Moreover, we do not know how to reach them.

Valerie asked for the old teachers' current whereabouts, to which I expressed my lack of knowledge. Valerie continued to probe whether or not they would return to her school. In my view, that outlook appears quite unlikely.

She asked, "Mommy, do you think the teachers left because we didn't do a good job listening?"

And my heart broke. The poor child thinks she's to blame for their departure!

So, I responded, "Honey, the teachers had a disagreement with Miss Roni [the head of administration]. It's not your fault that your teachers left. Usually, you're a VERY good listener sweetheart!"

And people wonder why adults scar children. These little people often think it's their fault for the turmoil in the world. It really breaks my heart.

Ugly Is As Ugly Does

This afternoon as I was changing the sheets on the bed, the girls decided to make a game of running through the curtains around the sliding glass door. I'm all in favor of the kids having a good time, but not at the expense of spending a grand or more on replacing broken curtains. Unsuccessfully, I requested an end to the curtain game, nicely and succinctly explaining why.

In my short four years of experience as a parent, I have determined at least one fact - any parent or grandparent, who claims that they can calmly ask children to behave and the children actually listen the first time, is a liar. Or, they have selective memories. Or, their kids are developmentally challenged. I regress.

After asking my girls to conclude their curtain game three times to no avail, I caught Valerie's arm, pulled her out of the curtains and firmly asked her if she heard what I said. She angrily stared up at me. So, I repeated my initial request, "Please stop playing in the curtains so that you do not rip them off the wall."

I continued with my task of making the bed. All the while, Valerie stared at me, her face growing red and angrier by the second. With hands on her hips, she shouted, "YOU'RE UGLY!"

I was stunned - not from feeling insulted, but from wondering where she could have come up with such a comment. I responded that such language is not very nice. Further, if such language is repeated in our household, there will be consequences.

Most people, with the exception of a very select few, seem to think Valerie resembles me, while Dagny is a spitting image of her daddy. Unbeknownst to her, Valerie insulted herself just as much as she tried to insult her mean mother. As I shared this story with a good friend yesterday, my friend reminded me of the saying, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I wish I had been witty enough to remember this phrase at the time of the exchange. In the meantime, I will stash this one in the arsenal so that I can be prepared for next time.

Housework Helpers

The day of easing the housework load is near!

On Mondays, the garbage is collected in our neighborhood. This afternoon, after the garbage trucks emptied our trash cans and departed with our disposed assets, the girls played in the front yard. Concurrently, I intended to roll the cans back to their usual spots.

Just as I approached this Monday afternoon chore, Valerie ran toward me proclaiming, "I want to help! I want to do it mommy! I can put the cans away! Please, mommy, can I help?"

In this instance, I happily relinquished the duty to my oldest child.

Dagny observed the situation. Barely a moment passed, then she, too, ran to me, shouting, "I hep too! MOMMY, I HEP TOO!"

My little helpers....

I thought to myself, "The day has come! It's cool in the Haim household to help with the dirty work!"

I offered each child a coin for their piggy banks to show my appreciation for their help. I guess I'm one of those parents who thinks it's important in child development for kids to help around the house - to give them a sense of teamwork and of accomplishment. They really are so proud of themselves when they help!

It may be cool for the moment. The question now becomes how quickly will this "fun-to-do-chores attitude" dissipate?

I'm hoping it remains fun for at least five more years. I mean really, isn't this why we have kids - so they can help around the house? I have a long list of things to do -
garbage
laundry
breakfast
vacuum
garden
clean
put things away
pull things out
lunch
grocery
dry cleaners
bills
dinner
diapers
baths
change light bulbs
schedule appointments
etc.

Really, the list never ends and is quite repetitive. I can see why people used to have more kids... And they didn't even have any of the modern day conveniences like washing machines, garbage disposals or dishwashers which we fully utilize today!

Falling Down

When many kids make a game of falling down, it often seems to relate to the age-old game of "Ring around a rosey, A pocket full of posies, Ashes, ashes, We all fall down."

Dagny has come up with her own falling down game.

As daddy watched an NBA game this afternoon, Dagny opted to dive head-first off the couch onto the floor.

With her arms reaching for the ground and her hips hanging over the arm of the davenport, she shouted, "Hep, hep" until one of us would start pushing her over the side of the couch. As she shrieked in joy, she would roll to the ground. Her head popped up and she exclaimed, "Falling down! Falling down!"

If only her birthday presents were this fun!

On Being Sad

After her nap, Dagny sat on my lap.

Me: Do you miss Grandma and Grandpa?

Dagny: Yeah!

Me: Do you miss Abby?

Dagny: Yeah!

She paused for a moment. Looked at me in her special way and said, "I sad."