ANY NEWS FROM LIFE WITH TWO CHILDREN?

“Children are like ice cream. They’re messy, melty, brain-freezing, but you can’t get enough of them.”

DINNER

Dinners are still not good. Throughout the year, I once heard from the children that I had finally managed to make a good dish, it was pasta in mushroom sauce. This year, I didn’t make this dish for the first time, but I think my son was in a good mood, and that’s why I accepted the praise. Generally speaking, for my children, the best dish is the pasta itself – without the sauce, which they usually call “awful slime”.

The tomato soup they ate at Grandma’s over the weekend was amazing and magically good for my kids. I made the same soup a week later, and it was also red. My kids decided they didn’t like the colour anymore. And since they didn’t like the colour, hypothetically, they didn’t like the taste either.

In Dora’s world, cutlery is still different for everything. There has to be a smaller spoon for oatmeal, a larger one for soup, a plastic one for yogurt, and a one for stirring tea labeled “Mickey Mouse.” It’s best to take it away from Patrick if he can’t see it, because today, that spoon is Dora’s favorite.

I’ve already written that Patrick has incredible patience. https://littlepuzzlesandme.com/the-specialist-in-childrens-morning-dramas-wanted-immediately/

For him, any spoon or fork is no problem. Neither is sharing. But as they say, so many children, so many personalities, and it’s true.

SPEAKING OUT

My older son is much better at being polite. My younger daughter also knows which words are forbidden, rude, and considered vulgar, like “shit.” However, in an elevator with two other people, my daughter tells me this story:

“Mom, I told Simon today not to say “shit”, but “poop”, and he doesn’t wanna tto listen.
My son interrupts the conversation:
“You have to tell the teacher that Simon says “shit,” because that’s not how we say it, right, Mom?”
And I try not to look at the people’s reactions. We get off the elevator, sweating, and I reply in a calm voice:
“Mommy told you so many times not to use that word, and yet you talk about it in front of other people.”

My daughter firmly replies:
“Mom, we don’t say the word ‘shit’, Simon only says that.”

JEALOUSY

“Patrick, will you go to Grandma’s after school on Friday night?”
“Why? Are you going out without us again? You go to parties all the time, and we don’t go anywhere?!”

All told, Patrick has been to six birthday parties this year, 12 trips to the movies with friends, and 20 trips to restaurants, the playground, and the pool with his grandparents. We went to one birthday dinner and once to the movies with my husband. Oh no, my bad, this year we only went to the movies with the kids to watch cartoons.

Dorotka, on the other hand, wants to be only with me, preferably without her brother, because why do he and Dad even exist?
I explain to her:
“Dora, Patrick was the first in Mom’s belly. He took care of you when you came from the hospital. He gave you toys, fed you, and watched over you. This is your little brother, and I am also his Mommy.”
“He is not my little brother, and you are not his Mommy. I was first in Mommy’s tummy.”

The end of the conversation.

But she’s really good at complaining about her dad and brother, and she comes out on top.

• “Mom, Patrick took your chocolate and ate it.”
• “Mommy, I put the plate in the dishwasher, and Patrick and Daddy didn’t.”
• “Mom, I heard Dad talking on the phone and making an appointment with Daniel for a beer on Friday evening.”
• “Dad didn’t want to pick me up when we were coming back from the store.”

And I know he had shopping bags and his hands were full, but I always laugh a lot at these stories of “poor Dora”. How does my daughter know how to protect herself and always present herself in the best light?

So not much has changed for me. We are still in the same precious family bubble. My children are still in charge at home. Every day, I pick them up from school and wait for another amazing story, sometimes less real, sometimes less cultural, but they share it with me. They greet me with a hug and a smile.

It doesn’t matter if I hear a compliment about a good dinner; what matters is their feelings and the time spent with them. They are my children.