I'm running out of titles for Peytonisms

Peyton: Mom, why does JujuBee have so many clothes and Peyton have no clothes?

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Peyton: I can't cut myself!  I'll be so sad!

Chris: That's right.  Do we play with knives, Peyton?

Peyton: No!

Chris: Good job!  That's absolutely ri-

Peyton: (Interrupting) We play with forks!

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Peyton was talking to her Meemaw on the phone.  She hung up, then quickly remembered she forgot to say something.  Peyton screams into the phone, "Gramma!  I want to watch a movie!  Tell my mom I said it's okay!"

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Peyton drew several circle-ish shapes on our refrigerator with a dry erase marker.  They all looked more or less the same to me.  She was really excited to show me her artwork, which she had spent about 30 minutes on.

Peyton: MOM!  Come see what I did!  Mom!  Mom!  See what I did!

Me: (Scanning the refrigerator) Very nice Peyton!  Did you make circles?

Peyton: (Apalled) No!  

Me: Oh.  (Point to circle) What is that?

Peyton: It's a botato!

Me: A potato!  You're right!  Nice potato!

Peyton: (Points to different circle) See that?  What is it?

Me: A potato!?

Peyton: (Insulted/frustrated) NO!

Me: Oh....I'm sorry.  Will you tell me what it is?

Peyton: A nose!

Me: Oh!

Peyton: (Points to a circle inside of another circle)  What is that?

Me: ....You tell me!

Peyton:  A botato inside a botato.  It's fancy.

Me: I can tell.  Great job!

Peyton: (Points to several circles inside several circles) See this?  What is it?

Me: A lot of potatoes inside of potatoes?

Peyton: (Big sigh.  Irritated to the point that you could tell she just gave up) No, Mom.  They are circles.

Christmas Wish List

Peyton will be my guest blogger today.  Yes it is October and yes I am posting Peyton's Christmas wish list.  Deal with it.

Dearest Santa....and Grandparents,

First, I want to tell you how much I love you.  A lot.

Secondly, I think you should know that I have been impeccably well-behaved this year.  Really.  I mean, sure, there was the time I locked Loralie outside.  And you may have heard exaggerated tales about how I colored on mom's night stand with permanent marker. (Does nobody recognize art anymore?)   And, if you want to be picky, then yes, there was the time that I jumped on my bookshelf and caused it to collapse.

Other than those few instances (and the time I put a hole in my bedroom door-by total accident), I have been really, really good.

Because I am so good and thoughtful of others, I have compiled a list for you of gifts that I would be honored to receive.  The following gifts would not only be treasured by me, but by Juju and Mom, also!

Item #1

                               

My mom reads Where the Wild Things Are to Juju and me and it is one of our favorite  books.  Wouldn't it be nice for us to have shirts that illustrated, not only our love for each other, but also our love of literature?

Item #2

I really like these matching friendship bracelet shirts.  Juju would like them, too.  I sometimes feel like Juju might not understand how much I love her (for the last time, locking her outside was just a joke.  Some people cannot let things go).  Honestly, though.  She is my very best friend and I want everybody to know.  Plus, don't you think this would make for cute pictures, Grandma?  I would absolutely love to send you a picture of us wearing these shirts.

That concludes my list.  I know.  Just two things.  Thank you for reading and I wish you pleasant experiences as you begin your holiday shopping.

Love,

Princess Popeye

More things that I wish I said less.....

Before I had kids, I had hoped that I would be the type of parent who imparted Solomon-like wisdom to my children.  I laugh when I think of how far I am from that ideal.  Here are the nuggets of wisdom I shared with my children today...

"You need to wear pants."

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"Don't shut your sister in a cupboard."

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"Just because your dad isn't here does not mean that you are allowed to lick his things."

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"Peyton, seriously!  You need to wear pants!"

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"Shoes are not for eating."

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"You shouldn't rub your lunch on your bum."

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"Empty shampoo bottles are not cups.  Do not drink out of them."

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"Dang it, Peyton!  You need to wear pants!"

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"Your sister is your friend.  You shouldn't lock her in a room."

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"Peyton, that is not nice to say.  Your sister is not 'the Kraken.'"

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"PEYTON!  Pants are important!  Put your pants on.  NOW!

Porn and Motherhood

Lately my Facebook news feed has been inundated with talk of 50 Shades of Grey (I have a super power that allows me to completely ignore any of the political/election posts that may be flooding your screens.  What can I say?  God has given me a gift).

I am sure that you have all read/heard opinions about this particular piece of literature so I will try not to get into that so much.  What I do want to discuss is the disturbing trend that seems to go hand in hand with talk of this book; the phrase "mommy porn."

The term has bothered me for quite a while.  Does it seem oxymoronic to anyone else?

A mother is somebody who sacrifices.  She uplifts those around her.  She beautifies her home.  She gives up hours of sleep to care for sick children.  She gives of her time to help her children with homework.  She gives  her lap to her children to fall asleep on.  She gives the last bite of her favorite candy bar to her child who is looking at her with longing, hopeful eyes (that's the hardest).  She gives of herself all day.  A mother is a giver.

Pornography is the exact opposite.  It gives nothing.  Really, it takes an awful lot.  It takes time away from our family.  It takes our love for our spouse.  It takes away the purity with which we should see others.  It takes away our focus on important matters worthy of our pursuit.

As I type this I realize that maybe I am wrong.  Pornography does give something.  It can give you an addiction.  It can give you unrealistic expectations of your spouse.  It can give you people outside of your marriage to lust after.  It can replace your love of others with the ability to simply view them as objects.  It takes away a desire to do for others and replaces it with more selfish desires.  It takes your joy and exchanges it for fleeting moments of satisfaction.  Pornography, visual or written, takes things from you, important things, and offers nothing of value.

When I see people flippantly use the term "mommy porn," my heart breaks.  I sincerely believe that  motherhood is a sacred calling.  "Mommy" is something that my tenderhearted children call me.  I hate seeing it coupled with something that I have personally seen destroy families.

Mothers, God blessed you with children.  He entrusted you with his own children and gave you the necessary tools to raise them to be the valiant souls that He needs.  Take this seriously.  It's hard.  Nobody is perfect.  I certainly make dozens of mistakes a day.  Motherhood is hard enough without pouring time and energy into unworthy and draining pursuits like pornography.  If you still  have a burning desire to read your erotic novels, please at least don't degrade the sacred name of motherhood on my Facebook news feed by proclaiming your love of "mommy porn."

Peyton wants a sister. It's not happening.

I am afraid of having spoiled, entitled kids.  For this reason, we make Peyton earn a lot of privileges.  This morning she shared with Loralie and read her a book to earn a snack.  Currently, she is picking up a mess to earn television time.  I am only telling you this you that you can better understand the conversation I am about to share with you.

 Peyton: I want a sister.
Me: What!?  No!
Peyton: (Realizing she forgot her manners) May I please have a new sister?

Me: No.

Peyton: I earn a sister?

Me: No!

Peyton: But I be so good and earn one!

Me: No.  You already have a little sister!

Peyton: No, I want a nice one.

Me: Peyton, no.  I am sorry.  You cannot have a new sister right now.

Peyton:....okay.  I ask my dad.

The Great Tower of Popeye

Today Peyton became irritated with Chris and she ran to her room.  Before slamming the door she screamed, "I NEVER come out AGAIN!"

Shortly after making that declaration she started throwing things at her door.  I knocked on her door and reminded her that that was unacceptable behavior (or maybe I just told her to knock it off....) and she immediately stopped.  I thought, "Heh, maybe I don't need that parenting class."

Chris and I could hear something going on in Peyton's room.  We were not too worried because it wasn't eerily quiet or destructively loud.  After a few minutes, she emerged from her room.  "Mom!  Come see!  Mom!  Look what I bee-yilt!"

I walked down the hallway.  Peyton's door was opened just wide enough for her to squeeze through.  There was no way I would fit.  I tried to push the door open but it was clear that something was blocking it.  I pushed hard and wedged it open enough for me to enter.

Peyton was standing there proudly, gazing upon what she had built.  I was bewildered and impressed.  She had stacked things against the door very neatly.  The tower was impressively well constructed.

Me: Peyton....it's a baricade.  Wow....you must have worked very hard on this.

Peyton: (Beaming, but not in a rat fink way) Mmmhmm!  To keep you out!

Me: You built this to keep me out of your room?

Peyton: (Proud and ecstatic beyond containment)  YES!  Now you can't come in!

Chris heard the exchange from the office.  He started laughing.  Of course Peyton would invite me in her room to show me the tower she had built to keep me out.  I don't blame her.  Like I said, it was impressive.

Tomorrow I will post a picture of the fruits of her labor.

Peyton Post #12387

Peyton.  Loves.  Honey Nut Cheerios.  You know how a box of Honey Nut Cheerios has a picture of a bumble bee on it?  Well, when Peyton wants the cereal she says, "Mom, I want bee cereal, please."

Recently, as Peyton was eating her cereal (which she insisted on eating beside our open door) a fly flew right by her.  She was horrified and said, "Oh no!  Mom!  The bee is supposed to be in my cereal!  Not in my house!"

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Peyton and Juju were in the tub and Peyton was washing Juju's hair.  It was adorable and she was doing such a great job!  I asked, "Peyton, who said you could get so big?"

Peyton replied, "I not want to be three but you always make me be three!"

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Loralie was in her room crying.  Upon entering their room, Peyton said, "Her again? Ugh.  She's always in my house!"