Saturday, September 8, 2007

Quin, MomAgain

I'm suddenly the mom of toddlers again.

Mr. Neebes and the Sisterwife are out of town for the weekend, and I was elected to watch the Toddlers. True Toddlers, 2 & 4 year olds, who have extensive vocabularies, parents who are both in the arts, therefore giving them rather dramatic personalities, and they have elder siblings (who are farmed out for this weekend, I am beyond handling that many children) who have taught them the ropes.

"I am going to my friends house." T.M. tells me.

"Which friend?"

"If you don't know, I can't see the reason to tell you again. I told you his name once."

A.K. dresses like a princess. Four or five times a day. She sings to me quite a bit, in a clear soprano voice that hints at what it will be in the next few years. I am looking forward to those years. Her ringlets and deep blue eyes betray a razor sharp mind and lead you to think she is nothing but a pretty face in an Ariel dress.

"Miss Quin..." I hear the phrase all day long. We discuss rock people, why the terrier is tired of eating treats and the reason she prefers her pink blanket to her blue one. When you think you simply cannot take another Miss Quin, she smiles, dimples glowing and says, "I love you so much". No one loves like a two year old.

Her brother is a solid block of boy. He saves his hugs and gives them only if you've earned them. He has no idea why his sister is crying. Well, perhaps it's because he slugged her in the back....maybe. He'll have to think on it, and while he's thinking, will you sit next to him and watch TV. He feeds the terrier snacks that come up later on. He races about on his small bike, no shoes, going places in his imagination. He holds doors open and says please and thank you then turns around and can only say one word; no.

They rely on me for everything, food, juice, kisses on owies, being tucked into bed, sitting next to them in the maybe scary part when we watch Harry Potter for the 2,472nd time.

You forget that little boy smell, the way a little girl wraps her arms around your neck as she protests she's not sleepy... the way they stop crying when you pick them up, and listen to whatever it was that upset them, the joy in their voice when you announce pudding for dessert.

I would never do this again full time.....but, for this weekend... we're having a pretty good time. Check with me again on Sunday evening and see how we all survived.


j.elliot said...

one starving musician came by to say: I've seen this anonymous character around on other blogs, too. What an a**hole.
Anyway, little kids are the best...for a weekend.


Quin said...

anon's are like cow flops, wet, stinky and full of shit that's been chewed up over and over then finally even the host body gets tired of it, and removes it...

glad you like the same books i do, and yes, kids are best given back after a weekend.

i enjoyed your blog...

Peter Varvel said...

Dear Bionic Woman (70's version)who can tear a phone book in half:
I'm sorry I've neglected your blog these past few days--so much that I want to comment on!
For now, let's just add me as one of your newest and enthusiastic fans. Maybe I'll get lucky like you and feel the status of being famous, as Prince sez, with a bitter, insulting visit from A.

All I can say about that is, unfortunately, some people are only happy when they are unhappy, because that's all they know.

Your blog keeps MY attention.

ashleywilkinsonneves said...

i love this entry! thanks for loving them.

Miss Sof said...

Is there a marker on little girls DNA that prompts them to dress like a princess---4-5 times a day, different outfits. Never quite satisfied, but they keep trying. The Captain, my youngest, did that. Eddie, the oldest, she never wanted to. However Eddie only wears wetsuits and scuba tanks now.
Thanks for the sweet reminder.

modelbehavior said...

aaaw! sounds so fun!

great descriptions of the kids.

Bud said...

Very pretty thoughts you put down. "I remember how that feels." I even wrote a song by that title. Yeah, I know, what a surprise.

Quin said...

miss sof~the captain only wore dresses that twirled. they had to twirl.

mb~thanks, but, if i never hear 'the doodlebops' again, i'll die happy.

bud~send me a copy

golfwidow said...

Tiny humans are the reason that, to this day, I can't hear This Old Man without picturing a large purple dinosaur mangling the lyrics into a hippy child-anthem.

Quin said...

gw~i told my children our tv didn't get that station. thankfully, they believed me