Outgrowing Neverland.

What does one do when Peter Pan outgrows his clothes... and by clothes, I mean his Peter Pan costume. You see, we have little Peter Pans and Tinkerbelles running around this house at least twice a week, usually more. And now, while he can squeeze into the costume, the poor boy just cannot wiggle his way out of it. His arms get all caught up, his face smooshed and and his head somehow stuck between two layers of green and brown cloth. With a cute yet muffled voice I can hear him yelling, "Help me, I need help!"

So, now I have a choice to make.

Do I pack away the costume and say a final good-bye to my little Peter Pan?

or

Do I break down and by him a new costume, one size bigger so I can keep my little Peter Pan for at least one more year?

Yet another option,

I can be selfish and keep my little Peter Pan just the way in his, with his almost too small costume, so that he has no other choice but to keep needing his mommy forever. (Unless, of course, he wants to have his head stuck in his costume for the rest of his life.)

I'm thinking of going with number three.

Honesty is a Good Quality

They other day things were bit hectic, so I thought I would make things easier and grab some Son.ic for dinner. In my rush, I forgot my four year old has decided he no longer likes ketchup. As we sit down to the table, John immediately reminds me of his new hatred of condiments.

I realized my mistake and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry buddy, Mommy has just not done a very good job today." In his most chipper and helpful voice, he answers, " That's okay Mommy, we're use to it!"

Thanks kid. I love you too!

Neverland has been Invaded by Microraptors

We've hit a new stage here in Neverland. My four year old has decided he is a microraptor. (It has occurred to me that he doesn't exactly know what a microraptor is, other than some kind of dinosaur.) But his microraptor is massive and has three claws. So, my son now tries to eat with three fingers, color with three fingers and insists on communicating with a series of grunts and gestures. I have also been forced to hunt every stuffed animal in the house in order to quell the hunger of said microraptor. (Except for Yurtle the Turtle... apparently the shell is too much for my little microraptor.)


I'm constantly reminding myself to cherish these days of make-believe. I'm not sure I am going to like the stage when all the Peter Pans and dinosaurs disappears.


But before I can delve too deep into that scenario, I really need to decide whether I should tell my giant, vicious microraptor of a son that according to Wikipedia the "microraptor was among the smallest known dinosaurs." And looked a little something like this...
...yes, I think I will keep that one to myself, for just a little bit longer.

Is quiet overrated?

Do you ever just yearn for quiet. My house is always loud. The car is always loud. Even the restroom is loud. (Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, why is the door shut? LET ME IN!!!) I find myself turning off the radio, in the rare instance when I am alone in the car, just so I can have complete silence. It is my chance to think and to be selfish... and it is so very fleeting. I often wonder how long I can sit out in the car while parked in the garage. How long will it take my husband to notice that I have not yet made it into the house?


Never fear, soon I am back in my Neverland with flying Peter Pans and Wendys, following the leader at the top of their lungs, with the baby screeching even louder so as not to be forgotten. And every once in awhile there will be a sudden silence and I freeze. Not because I've once again gotten my silence that I s0 crave, but because now it is too quiet. Every mother knows it...What is it that has silenced my brood? The house is too quiet. And so I stop what I am doing to find the reason why the roucus has suspended.

And you know what, since I'm there I might has well join in the fun.... so I scoop up the baby, grab the hand of the two year old and call out to oldest as we skip through the house singing, I won't grow up, I won't grow up.....



(It is in these moments that I remember, one day the house will be nothing but quiet and I will pray for this noise and laughter and joy. But they, the makers of our noisy life, will be gone, living in their own homes, raising their own spririted children, searching for their fleeting moments of silence.)


So since we are singing, I figure we might as well be doing it at the top of our lungs! (while we still have the chance.) ....I DON'T WANT TO WEAR A TIE, I DON'T WANT TO WEAR A TIE...