The Post Office

I know you guys are already familiar with Popeye (5) and Juju (almost 4).  Moving forward you will probably start hearing a lot of stories about their little sister, Gus (18 months).

We have to go to the post office more often than I would like.  It seems we are always sending something somewhere.  I avoid it when I can.  It is always chaotic.  Somebody tries to escape.  A few end up crying.  Boxes are pulled down.  It is a good day if I can keep Gus from the card rack.  I hate, hate, HATE going to the post office.  Here are two exchanges from today's venture.

Background information for the first tidbit: Gus responds to questions in one of four ways.  Her responses are always, "pizza," "Popeye, Juju," "thank you," or "no."  If she means yes, she still says no.

Me: Okay guys.  Remember what we talked about?  We are going to be patient and well-behaved in the post office. You have notebooks to color in so this should be easy.  Gus, are you going to be good?

Gus: No.

Popeye: Oh my goodness!  She told the truth!  Gus, we are so proud of you for being honest even when it is hard!  Good job!

Juju:  I knew you could do hard things, Gus!

Gus: (Big, confused smile) Thank you!

The kids showered Gus with hugs and kisses.  The baby's honesty did not impress me as much as it impressed the other girls.

****

Juju struggled while I addressed boxes because "the floor is dirty and there is nowhere to sit."

Postmaster: Hello, young lady.  Would you like a sticker?  You are being so good!

Juju: Sure.  You have a very nice beard, but maybe you should get some benches in here for next time.

Postmaster: Haha!  Do you not have a place to sit?

Juju: No, but I still like your beard, though, and I hope you have a nice day.  And I accidentally colored on the counter.

Ninja Dad

Chris and I were able to have a wonderful vacation in Florida (maybe more on that later), followed by a beautiful week with our girls at my in-law's in Utah.  It was perfection.

That isn't really what this post is about, though.  This post is about the girls' adoration of their father and their belief that he is the greatest, strongest, most handsome guy in the entire world.  The girls cannot fathom that there could ever be anybody stronger or more impressive than their dad.  

For example, Chris was carrying a giant container full of water.  His friend was there.  Chris put the water down and bragged to KJ (Chris' friend) that her dad was strong enough to lift the heavy water.  KJ said, "Oh, like this?"  He then proceeded to lift the water, just as Chris had done.  Juj was quick to defend her father's honor and said, "Yeah?  Well, my dad can throw us in the air, so hmph!"

Anyway, like I said, they think he is awesome. And I love it.  They cannot accept that there may be some things that he just can't do.

One morning Popeye woke up early and Grandma was able to show her pictures of Chris from when he was a kid.  Pops saw this picture and was impressed, to say the least.

She said, "That's when my dad was a ninja!  He kicked that whole tree down!"  The girls went on and on about their ninja dad and his superhuman strength. 

Chris woke up later in the morning.  He had been up most of the night with the baby (and I thank him for the extra sleep).  When he came downstairs he made it into the living room, where he promptly collapsed from exhaustion and he laid face down on the carpet, hoping if he could be still enough, he might be able to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep before the troops attacked.  No such luck.  

The girls were quick to climb on him.  In less that a minute, he had been smothered with hugs and kisses and the girls had climbed on his back, ready for their trusty steed to take them for a ride.  Chris just laid there, motionless.

Popeye: Come on, Dad!  Give us a ride!  You can do it!

Chris: Pops, I'm too tired.  I don't have the strength!

Popeye:  Sure, you do!  If you can knock down a tree, then you can lift three men!  Now go!

And he did.  And we all love him for it.

So grateful that the kids think their dad is as great as I do!  We are lucky to have him as part of the ranks.

I spy two kids who should not play this game.

The kids and I like playing games.  My kids especially like to play I Spy; not so much the book version, but the version where you actually look around and find something in the room and get the other people to guess.  My kids adore this game.  

My kids are also very, very bad at this game.  And it is adorable.

Juj is very specific.  She will say, "I spy with my little eye something....that plays DVDs!"  When I guess correctly on my first try that it is the DVD player, Juj is stunned.  She thinks I have magic guessing powers.  She can't figure out how I get it on the first try every time.  She loves that she can't seem to stump me.  She loves that I can read her mind.  Other gems from Juj:

I spy something that...hangs on the wall (in a room that has one picture hanging on the wall).

I spy something on the wall that you can look out of to see outside.

I spy something that makes toast.

I spy something that tastes like a peanut butter sandwich (yeah.  the answer was "the peanut butter sandwich you are eating."  Kid. Was. Amazed.  We sometimes worry about her.)

Popeye is different, though.  Here's how she plays.

Pops: I spy with my little eye something...black!

Me: The picture frame?

Pops: No!

Me: The remote control?

Pops: No!

(Insert 10 more incorrect guesses, followed by a satisfied smile from P.)

Me: Pops, I just listed every black thing in here!  I don't see anything else that is black!

Pops: (Beaming) You give up?

Me: Yes.

Pops: Juju's shoes!

Me: What?  I thought you said black?

Pops: I did!

Me: Pops!  Her shoes are all white!

Pops: (Annoyed that she has to explain herself) Well, I couldn't tell you the right color.  It is too easy of a clue and I didn't want you to be able to guess it too quickly!