More Lucy Than June

The babies are not THE BABIES anymore.

Since Jack’s entrance onto the stage of Parris Life in January, I have called he and Caia “the babies”.

But over the past few weeks, as Caia has turned into a potty-trainING (notice I did not say TRAINED) and conversational little girl, I have realized that she is not exactly a baby any longer.

She and Kenni are now fully capable of having a lengthy and detailed conversation (or argument) now.

Stephen and I were marveling over this new concept at lunch the other day.

It’s been such a gradual shift from “Caia and Jack” to “Caia and Kenni” that we almost haven’t noticed the progression.

Not that Caia doesn’t still love Jack to pieces (sometimes almost literally). It’s just that she’s less like the baby she was when Jack was born, and is now becoming a little girl.

Sniff, sniff.

Where does the time go?, I thought, as she sat (not so) quietly on the floor building with blocks.

I building a TACO HOUSE!

A what, sweetie?

Is a TACO HOUSE!

Not really sure what a taco house is, but we did eat at Moe’s for dinner, so maybe…

…when my children are left to their own devices.

All three of my children are very independent players. Which is a good thing.

At times.

Aside from my occasional insecurity that screams out at me begging to know if my children love me because surely they’d want me to play with them…yeah, aside from THAT their independent play and creative bungle can cause quite a scene.

Such as this.

I walked in to find this mess lying on the living room floor today.

Yep. You’re looking at mini-cupcake wrappers filled with apple slices that have been cut with an apple slicer BY A PRESCHOOLER. Oh and some sharp wooden skewers thrown in for fun.

Besides the fact that yes, I am aware that the apple slicer is sharp and someone could’ve apple-sliced off a finger, I’m actually pretty impressed that she was able to use the thing.

And then there was the issue of The Missing Wallet.

Caia took Stephen’s wallet about a week ago, and she hid it. We turned the house upside down looking for it.

We asked the perpetrator herself to lead us to it.

The response we were presented with was,

It’s somewhere.

Either she had genuinely forgotten where she put it, or she’s a complete genius and was playing the biggest toddler-based practical joke in history.

Tonight, after I removed two potholders and a pencil from my refrigerator (no, that’s not a typo), our curiosities in the fridge’s contents were piqued.

And guess what we found?

It may be hard to see but there’s The Missing Wallet…shoved behind some mayo and under an old napkin.

I just don’t even have any words.

So after my friend Whitney told me about Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred workouts, I was intrigued.

It took me awhile to get what I needed to start, but now…look out world…I’m taking Jillian Michaels on!

Okay. The truth is…that woman scares the poo out of me.

Continue reading ‘30 Day Shred…Here We Go!’

I present to you what we in this house lovingly call…

The Old Man.

You’ll also get to hear the loving sisters enjoying a nice fall day in South Carolina. Ahem.

The Old Man from Annette Parris on Vimeo.

Well no. I did not jump in and stop the girls from arguing, screaming, or……pulling hair.

Call me mean, but sometimes, I just let ‘em work it out. I seriously can’t referee everything…or I’d never even have time to go to the bathroom.

We have a long-standing relationship, The Timer and I.

When I was teaching Kindergarten, I used The Timer for various things.

Time-out, when to switch center stations, when to come in from recess.

I still have The Timer from the teaching days of old. He has green sharpie on his face and assorted chunks of play-doh on his bottom, but I still have him. He no longer works, but I keep him for sentimental reasons.

I have loved many a Timer in my day. Those that are attached to ovens in houses which I have lived and cooked have been some of my favorites too.

But I have (re)discovered a new use for The Timer.

And it is….

….FOR CLEANING.

Continue reading ‘Ordering My Day’