What God Wants

My four year old has had a bout of the runs today. Nothing too serious, but awfully unpleasant for the little sprite. She had to change her underwear once, and was fairly devastated.

Tonight, after sending the three girls off to get ready for bed, to brush teeth and change into pajamas, Little T spent about 5 or 10 minutes in her room howling for me to come. When I finally got to her, she has hiding behind her door, buck naked, and squeezing her little bottom cheeks together so hard her legs were shaking. She was trying to hold back the tide. I felt terrible for not arriving sooner.

Off to the bathroom we went. Without being too graphic, let me just say that the leg-shaking clench did not quite do the trick, so we had some clean-up to do. While I was cleaning her up, we had the following exchange:

Little T: "Can God change me into you?"

Me: "Oh, I think God wants you to be Little T, just the way you are."

Little T: "No. (said emphatically and sternly) God wants me to be you!"

Me: "Why is that, sweetie?"

Little T: "Because you don't poop your pants!"

I assured her that God loves her as is, poopy pants every now and then and all, and that if she were me, then I wouldn't have her, and God definitely wants us to have each other. Then I left the bathroom and had a good laugh.

* * *

Also: you know how people name their ipods, things like "Cindy's Ipod" or "Best Music Ever" or something that actually makes sense? My 10 year old named his: R-dizzle fa shizzle ma nizzil off da hizzle drizzle. He charges his ipod on my laptop, so I have to look at this ridiculous name on my screen, or as much of it as will fit.

Does this mean he is destined to live with us for the rest of his life, work at Best Buy, and never get a driver's license?

I'm worried about that kid.

* * *

Morning Limericks

There was once a mess on the floor

That kept me from opening your door.

The mess is now clean;

It's a quite different scene,

But the stink'll keep it shut evermore.

* * *

As a mother, my duty is dinner.

If I fail, you all will get thinner.

But as sure as you're mine,

I'd rather have wine.

I bet my choice will not be the winner.

* * *

I'm trying to raise you well and right,

I'm trying to guide you day and night,

Do you mind if I just took

A glance at my Facebook

Checked my email, stats and website?

I hear you! Your brother just smacked your face.

And your sister is throwing your stuff every place

But wait a sec, honey,

This blog is so funny!

Can you go see who just broke that vase?

I'm sure I'll come out from behind my screen

In time to save you from your brother the tween.

But until I do,

Jump over that goo,

And step back: don't crowd my scene.

What's that you say? You want to play Wii?

You want as much screen time as me?

I'm sorry you cannot,

I won't let your brain rot.

It's not fair, but who said it would be?

* * *

You are toddler, and cute as a bug.

Upon heartstrings you certainly tug.

But defy me once more

In the midst of a store

And I'll sell you as quick as a hug.

* * *