Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Why I might seem a little cookoo

I thought that today I would discuss my children. I won’t go into specifics but I will talk about their personalities a bit.

Little Man is my oldest. He is my momma's boy. I call him little man because he worries about the most adult things. He has actually started worrying about our family budget. I find it endearing, but at the same time I tell him to enjoy being a kid and don’t worry about if we can afford this or that, daddy and I will always find a way. The little part is, well, he is pretty darn short. He should be at least half a foot taller for his age but he just isn't growing much. When he talked to the doctor about this, one of the first words to come up was dwarfism. My son’s first worry? “Mom will I have to work in a mine?” I admit, I laughed then I told him that no we would just give him a battle ax and let him grow an awesome beard. He liked that much better.

Smarty pants is our middle child. He has the classic middle child syndrome which is no end of aggravation, but he is also my sweetest child. Just the other day in a store, we were walking by and one of the employees dropped something and he ran over and picked it up for her since her arms were full. He randomly does things like this. It makes my heart swell. So why call him Smarty Pants? This is why; he is helping do laundry one day. He comes up to me with one of my shirts and says “Mom, this shirt is too little for Little Miss.” I reply back that the shirt is indeed not Little Miss’s shirt, but mine. His response, “Well then, this shirt is too little for you.” Then he runs off cackling to his room. His first day of school he walks up to his teacher and informs him that he isn't there to learn, he is there to have fun. Needless to say this teacher has been no end of grief for Mr. Fluffy and I. He does this constantly. Everyday is a battle between being proud of my son for how sweet and considerate he can be and wanting to lock him in his room for his smarty pants ways.

Little Miss is my little princess. She is the epitome of girlishness. Her room is bedecked in pink and glitter from ceiling to floor. Her closet is mounds of pink fluff and glitter and she has nearly everyone she meets wrapped around her finger. Beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed girl with dimples you can drown in and within minutes of walking into a room she can have everyone waiting on her hand and foot. She also is short like her oldest brother but she isn't bothered by this, it adds to her boundless charm. Much to my chagrin, she has been spoiled since birth. You see we tried to have a girl for a long time. When we finally got pregnant with her, it wasn't at the best of times and I told my husband that either way, boy or girl, this was to be our last pregnancy (I hated being pregnant and had been having some bad female issues at the time). So, lo and behold, we had our much anticipated little girl and right off she was very sickly. She got every little illness that a baby wasn't supposed to get. She spent much of her first 3 years in and out of emergency rooms and on breathing treatments. She has since grown out of much of it but we did spoil her rotten during that time. Thank goodness she didn't turn out to be much of a brat. She loves to help do chores and if her brothers do something, she insists that she be allowed also.

My children are my life line. They make me crazy and yet keep me going on. I can’t wait to see how they turn out as they grow older. 

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