Boys are crazy!

We were driving along a residetial street when a huge pick up truck with tires about the size of a compact vehicle revvs past us weaving in and out of traffic. As it is revving it also

Me: (mostly muttering to myself) Why would anyone really need a truck that size??

Emma: (obviously listening in to my private conversation with myself) I tell you what, Mommy, boys are crazy!

Me: Well, at times it seems that way, huh?

Emma: Those boys should just sometimes walk and leave those polluting trucks at home!

There is hope for a cleaner tomorrow yet... :)

Sorry is not going to do it...

As Emma was being dropped off from school ...

Emma: Mommy I have a problem.

Me: What's that?

Emma: I can't do it without my two jackets! (erupting in mournful outright wail)

Earlier in the week I had given some slightly used clothes to her friend who is a size or two smaller.

Me: But love, you didn't want to wear the brown one for last several times when I suggested and both of them are a few years old and will not fit you anymore next winter.

Emma: (in the midst of sobbing) They are my two special favorite coats! I can't have Brianna have them.

Me: I'm sorry, I should have checked with you, but you never wanted to wear either one, so I thought you wouldn't mind. What if it's Brianna's turn to have special coats?

Emma: No, Mommy. She throws them on the ground and it really hurts my feelings. I never wanted to wear them, because I didn't want them to get dirty or rip. They are so special to me. (again NO breaks in the sobbing!)

Me: I am so sorry, Emma. I did not know any of this.

Emma: Sorry is just not going to do it, Mommy...

There was no mention of any of this in the advanced theories of family development!!! All those credit hours gone to waste...

Birthday Girl

Night before Emma's seventh birhtday. We're doing our nightly ritual and get to the goodnight story. I look over at Emma.

Me: It's the last time I get to read a story to my six-year-old... what happened to my little girl? (I'm smiling but tear are welling up in my eyes - I know I can be pretty pathetic at times.)

Emma: I know! ... Mommy are you crying?

Me: A little bit, but mostly happy tears. I'm really excited that you have a birthday and you are growing up, but sometimes I miss my little girl.

Emma: (stroking my hair) It's okay Mommy. I'll always be your little girl, no matter how many birthdays come.

.... I sure hope she remembers that when those evil teenage hormones start taking over. I certainly will.

worldly wisdom

Emma: Mommy, I know the S-word. It's a bad word...

Me: I see. What word is that?

Emma: Shut up. (anticipation of my reaction apparent in her tone...)

Me: You're right. That's not such a nice word to use.

Emma: I also know the F-word!

Me: (oh, no. here we go, all the good innocent days are fading... already??) Right. And which word is that?

Emma: (silence) Phoney!! (big eyes stating 'I can't believe I said that to my mom!') -- Is that a bad word.

Me: (holding back relief and satisfaction) Well,... it can be a not-so-nice thing to say about someone. It would probably hurt someone's feelings if you called them with that name.

Emma: I know.

...

Emma: I also know the other S-word.

Me: (can't this be over already??) Which one is that?

Emma: Stupid!

Me: Yeah, that's an old one we've talked about before. Not a nice thing to say. right?

Emma: Right. I don't like it. Some kids use it all the time. I remember I used it when I was three and my friend got upset. I don't use it.

Me: I remember that. I'm really proud of you that you try to be kind to others. That makes a good friend.

Emma: **shy smile**

i think i helped her a little bit

Emma: Mommy there's something I need to tell you about.

Me: Okay, love. What is it?

Emma: I'm feeling really sad. It's about Bonnie. Her grandpa died when she was one. He was the first one to hold her and he even fed her, but he's died

Me: Oh, that is sad. Sounds like Bonnie had a sweet grandpa.

Emma: Yeah, makes me sad.

Me: I think Bonnie was really loved by her grandpa, huh?

Emma: She said she was sad in class and I told her we need to talk about it on the hill during recess. So we did. She told me and I think I helped her a little bit. But I was sad too.

Me: I know sweetie. You are a good friend and I can see that you helped her by listening and being there.

I am one proud Mommy! My girl has such a

It's not me, it's my tummy.

Emma: Mommy, I've noticed that always when I'm at the apartment, my tummy hurts, but when I leave the apartment, it doesn't. It's kind of mysterious.

Me: Really? Can you think of anything at the apartment that might make your tummy feel that way?

Emma: I've thought about it and I think it's that my tummy thinks that Gracie (0ur sheepdog) might die.

Me: Aah. Emma you know we've talked about this (she has been a bit obsessed about Gracie getting old ...) and Gracie is very healthy and will be with us for many years.

Emma: I know that. I know it but my tummy doesn't seem to. I don't think she's going to die, but I think my tummy thinks that. Not me.

Me: Okay. Well, maybe we need to work on telling the tummy that she can relax, cause Gracie is healthy and as silly as always. No worries.

Emma: I'll work on that.

the budding music critic

Driving in the car seems to elicit the best insights from most of us. On our recent trip to Ft Collins to visit family, we heard Zac Efron (High School Musical 2) song "Bet on it."

Me: I really like this song. What do you think?

Emma: I do too!!

A few moments of singing along....

Emma: I really like the DRAMA of it!

Me: Oh... tell me more about that...

Emma: You know, the drama of it... there's anger. The girl left and he's angry and no one understands.

Me: I see...

I'm waiting for the day that I can come up with something equal in depth to some of these comments... until then I keep learning.