My Beamish Brood

My Beamish Brood

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Chef Louie


 For Christmas, Lucian received a set of cooking utensils, an apron and two cook books. He had been showing some interest in cooking and we thought he would love to have some of his own tools. He loved them. He cooked with Grandma while we were in Rapid, and he used his tools to make granola with Daddy at home. But I was disappointed because I never seemed to be able to make room in my schedule to let him help me cook. He started out asking all the time, but I said no so many times that he stopped trying. Having to time dinner prep between baby naps and feedings while fending off a toddler kept me near enough the end of my rope that I couldn't handle a child sous-chef.

On Saturday I had just entered the kitchen to make dinner. Paul and the kids were reading in the living room and Edith was napping. Soon, Lucian peeked in. "Mom? Can I help you make dinner?" Fighting off the urge to send him away, I realized that I had no good reason not to let him help today. "Sure, hun, let's get your apron." He broke out in a grin and requested his own cooking tools.

As we prepared the meal, we chatted. He told me all about the restaurant he was going to open someday, "Chef Louie's", and I listened with both ears, undistracted by other kids or other thoughts. He did as much of the meal on his own as he possibly could, and I simply stepped in to do things like turn on the burner, pour from a heavy bowl, and place the finished casserole in the oven. It was a wonderful half hour with a wonderful chef. 

By the end of the dinner prep, I had officially become Lucian's sous-chef, and he had renamed his future restaurant "Chef Louie and Mom's". I think the evening was a success.

Sneaky Sneaky

I've never had a two-year-old quite like my current two-year-old. Max was a little spacey, but he never deliberately disobeyed me... he mostly just forgot what he was supposed to be doing. Lucian had a little sly streak in him, but he quickly decided that getting in trouble was too stressful. But Audrey...

Oh Audrey.

Around age 2, we always make a rule that pacifiers need to stay in beds, with the intention of weaning our kids from their paci's by age 3. It worked like a charm for the other two, but as soon as we instituted this rule for Audrey we began to see her true colors shine through. Multiple times a day, she sneaks up to her room to lay on her bed with paci and blankie, then when the spirit moves her she heads downstairs incognito.


In the above photo, everything seems just fine, right? Well underneath that unassuming blankie is a stowaway! Audrey has taken to walking down the stairs with her head covered in order to hide the fact that she has not left her paci in her room like she knows full well she is supposed to do. No accidental mistakes here, this is 100% intentional. Paul even caught her once coming downstairs wearing a Darth Vader mask to hide her guilt.

Yesterday she came downstairs with her blankie bundled into a ball. When she saw me, she jumped. "Turn around, Mommy!" she said. I obliged, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched her sneak under the boys' Lego table, behind a bin of railroad tracks, and bury her head in her blankie so I couldn't see her put her paci in her mouth. Oh my, oh my.

It would actually be a little bit cute and endearing if my attempts to remove said paci didn't end in bloodcurdling screams and full-blown on-the-floor tantrums. It's like she knows my noise tolerance is at an all-time low right now, and she thinks that if she just keeps it up long enough I'll give in to preserve my sanity. Sadly for her, the tantrums actually land her in her room without her paci, which continues to shock her no matter how many times it happens!

My mother-in-law likes to remind me that often the kids that are hardest to deal with end up doing the biggest things someday. If that is truly the case, I have very high expectations for Audrey someday. We shall see...

Sunday, March 15, 2015

A Day In The Life

Hey guys, Audrey here! You know, there are a lot of downsides to being two... uncontrollable emotions, big siblings who get to do things I can't do, a little sibling who gets held in MY mommy's arms all the time... it's tough to be me. 

But there is one thing I can do, and nobody can stop me, because half the time they don't even notice! I can steal my mom's phone and take hundreds of pictures right under her nose. I pride myself on filling her phone's memory almost every day so she has to go through and delete multiple photos of the floor or the ceiling fan. It's a blast.

For your enjoyment, I have compiled a group of some of my favorites to give you a taste of what my days look like. Won't Mommy be surprised when she finds all of these! 

7am: Breakfast with Mommy
8am: Take a selfie
9am: hang out in our tiny bathroom while Mommy gets ready. Insist that Mommy is in my way.
10am: School time with my brothers
11am: Press lots of buttons on Mommy's phone. Why isn't it working anymore??? Screenshot the problem so Mommy can fix it later 

12pm: Eat lunch

1pm: Watch my brothers dance at Homeschool Co-op. Insist I could do it better.
2pm: Selfie time!
3pm: Sneak downstairs while I should be napping
3:15pm: Sneak downstairs while I should be napping
3:30pm: Play in the bathroom sink while I should be napping
4pm: Storytime with my siblings
5pm: Help feed dinner to my baby sister. I am indispensable around here.
6pm: Take tons of photos of my baby sister
7pm: One last selfie before bedtime
 And that concludes another productive day in my life! Gee, I guess being two isn't so bad after all.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Spelled Out

"I love to spell.... S-P-E-L-L!" Max has taken a renewed interest in spelling, and it's as if he realized that there were still a few quiet moments in our day... so he decided to make everything take three times longer to say! For such a super chatty kid, spelling everything he wants to say is quite a feat. Actually, the real feat is listening to him spell everything he wants to say.

Ok, honestly I don't usually mind too much. It's great practice for him, and I can see that he's starting to understand more of the intricacies of spelling rules. It's kind of exciting! But he has taken to using spelling when he wants to tell or ask me something that he knows I won't like.

"M-o-m-y? C-a-n  I  p-l-a-y  M-i-n-e-c-r-a-f-t?" .... it's like he thinks that I might just say yes because I'm too lazy to figure out what he spelled. He doesn't know that I can sense Minecraft from a mile away.

Or if I ask him to do some work, he often says, "N-o, M-o-m." This one has turned into a bit of a game. I will spell back "O-k, G-o  t-o  y-o-u-r  r-o-o-m," but before I finish, he's off to do what was asked of him. We have an unspoken understanding that things that are spelled are not to be taken seriously. He hasn't pushed it too far (and I definitely wouldn't accept spelled insults) so as it stands, spelling is a safe way to say the things he sometimes thinks but knows he shouldn't say to me.

But the other day he decided to walk the line. I think I had just reminded him to clear his dishes from the table, an expected job that the kids usually have no problem with. Being seven has apparently given him a somewhat inflated sense of self, because before he completed the task, he took the time to spell out "Y-o-u-r  n-o-t  t-h-e  b-o-s  o-f  m-e." Where he heard that phrase, I'll never know. I immediately spelled back, "Y-e-s  I  a-m", and he smiled and obeyed.

I might have to remember this when he's a teenager and decides to really talk back to me. Maybe if I spell at him he'll remember that I am the B-O-S.