Confessions

Confession #1: I secretly love when Sophie gets mad at Cameron.

More and more frequently now, I hear "Noooooooo, Cameron!" or "Mommy, Cameron took my ________" or "No! No babies allowed" or "Zero persons are allowed in my room right now" or my favorite "Stop, Cameron, you're distracting me!"

Now that Cameron cruises around our house on a mission and now that he purposely "plays" with toys, sibling arguments are starting, and I love it!  I think it's so stinking cute that my 3 year old gets frustrated that her nearly 8-month old brother is interacting more with her.  In many instances, Sophie claims that Cameron is chewing "my favorite toy" that she is "in love with." In reality, she hasn't played with that toy in months, but seeing her baby bro find enjoyment with it reignites this supposed love affair. And Cameron isn't just a cute, little baby who is teaching his sister valuable lessons about sharing.  He knows what he is doing.  98 toys will be dumped out on the carpet, but that boy crawls over and grabs the 1 toy that Sophie has been coveting all afternoon.

Cleverly, in one instance, Sophie realized she needed to switch up her game to get a different response from me.  In a desperate attempt to take back a horse that Cam commandeered, Sophie rushed downstairs to get her doctor's kit.  She came up with a serious look on her face ("this is my thinking face, mommy").  She then informed us that an ambulance was on its way because the horse had an appointment.  The horse's appointment would take 2 weeks because the drool on him had given him a temperature of 45.  I hesitated while I formulated how I would respond, so Sophie capitalized on my indecision to add "Mommy, if the horse doesn't go to his appointment now, he will die.  Then nobody can play with him." How do you argue with that?  Cam lost the horse on that rationale...

Confession #2: I say I'm sorry too often.

As Doug and I observe our children learning and developing, it is obvious to us what skills, abilities, and habits they form because of what we, their parents, do.  This has become the most clear with Sophie's language acquisition.  Certain sentence patterns, phrases, and reactions that she hysterically and regularly uses can be traced back to things Doug and I say--and most of them are words/phrases that we never knew how often we use.  Case and point: I'm sorry.

I use that sentence a lot, but (as Doug would confirm), I don't often use it in an apology format.  For example, "I"m sorry, Sophie, but you look adorable today." Or "I'm sorry, Cam, but that is the most drool I have ever seen!" Or "I'm sorry, but you are just my favorite boy in the whole world!"

First, that use of "I'm sorry" is ridiculous and nonsensical.  As an English major and English teacher, I'm embarrassed to admit that I say that ALL THE TIME.  I'm sorry.

Second, when a daughter who is experimenting with language imitates her mother's excessive misuse of a sentence, it's funny.   At one point I was gushing compliments, telling Sophie that I was sorry, but I think she is just the most beautiful girl in the world.  She grabbed my hands and said "It's ok, mommy.  You don't have to be sorry." From then on, we have noticed that she uses the same sentence, saying comical things like "I'm sorry but this is the best dinner" or "I'm sorry but I ate all my apple" or "I'm sorry but this marker is green."

Confession #3: Although I think of myself as organized and cleanly, my curious baby boy has proven otherwise.

Cam is a full-on boy.  Once he figured out how to crawl, he didn't just crawl around on a contained carpet like his sister.  He was off.  And crawling wasn't good enough; he now kneels unassisted and pulls himself up to a standing position when holding items. Sophie explored the house when she started crawling, but she was polite and observed things around her.  Cameron finds every last nook and cranny and devours it--dust bunnies under the buffet in the far right corner? Found those, mommy.  Electrical cord from the lamp behind the dresser past the chair? Trying to chew that, mommy.  Plastic wrapping from the stickers in the box in Sophie's art drawer? Somehow pulled those out, mommy.

I wrote out a list, classifying different rooms in my house into different zones. I assigned a cleaning schedule to each zone.  I gave Doug strict instructions about what he needed to do in certain zones. It doesn't matter.  By the time I've cleaned each zone over the course of a week, Cam will have figured out my plan and I'll follow his trail of drool to the spots that are dirty. Forget the zones.  I'm now playing man to man coverage.  I just follow him around nonstop and as he picks up the popcorn kernel from the carpet, I immediately snag it and feel successful at my cleaning routine.


3 major confessions in one blog entry? Fairly scandalous life I lead, eh?