Everyone thinks that their kids are awesome. And they should. Because they ARE awesome. Lots of people in New York have dogs for children and they push them around in strollers (Iamsonotkidding) and talk to them like they're talking to a two year old child and I look away and pretend like I didn't notice because they should be totally embarrassed about that, right? Besides, my kids do the following things that I am almost positive a dog can't do.
One afternoon this past week, Lucy and Lane and I were headed out to pick up the older kids from school. Lucy bolted out of the elevator and across the lobby and left one shoe halfway across the room. She doubled back and met Lane at her shoe and this was their exchange:
Lucy: I just turned into Cinderella.
Lane: (kneeling down and putting the shoe on her sister's foot) I am not a prince now, Lucy. I'm just a girl.
Last week after church, the Primary President came over to me and said, "I don't know what you said to Ethan, but thank you!" I just stared at her blankly and she told me that, according to his teachers, he raised his hand at the beginning of their lesson and said, "I have an announcement to make." He then stood in front of the class and said, "I think we should all be more respectful of our teachers by listening to their lesson." And then he sat down. Amazingly enough, the kids were less disruptive and more reverent.
Finally, Mila brought me the first part of her essay to read, entitled "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover." Here is an excerpt:
"For example, if you see a new kid and she is fat, you do not just say 'She is fat. She must eat, like, McDonald's every night. She is gross and I won't be her friend.' You will eventually tell her she is fat and gross. She probably won't like it and won't react with a big hug and a box of chocolates. . . there may be another side to the whole story. Maybe the girl is just wearing a big puffy coat and she is really exercising and eating brussels sprouts."
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
So, this is weird...
Sunday afternoon, we all piled on to the 1 train as usual, on our way to church. We take up almost an entire center section of a subway car, so it's always nice to get on and find that empty row waiting for us. Such was the case this day, and we all sat there in our Sunday garb.
I looked over at the three men across from me and to my left. They were speaking French and they were large guys, yet they had all squeezed into what looked like two seats. I know from experience that those French types have no issues with not having any personal space on the Metro, so I figured they were quite comfy.
Next to them, directly across from me, was this Asian guy in his 20's. He was just listening to his iPod at first and then, he did something that caught my attention. He looked over at our family, took off his earphones, then pulled out a pen and what looked like a journal. He opened it and I saw short entries scribbled inside. He turned to a fresh page and started writing. I could barely just make out this sentence at the top: "A family of six got on the subway..." and that's all I could see before he looked up at me and I looked away hastily.
He kept writing and writing, and in between writing, he kept looking at me (I have great peripheral vision), then he would look at Ben, then each of the kids in turn. I was dying to see what he was writing about us, and I sort of wanted to yell, "What the heck are you writing about us in your diary?" But I didn't, and we got to 66th St., our stop, and he had written a full page, and we got up and got off. And I will never ever know. And it kills me.
I wonder if he will write a blog about us. Or make a TV show. Or an immersion art piece. Or a book, or comic book! Maybe it will be called, "The day I saw some people on the subway who were so obviously Mormon that I had to write it down," or, as I prefer to think, "The day I saw the most ridiculously good-looking, stylish mom with unfortunate roots that I have ever seen."
Come on, a page?! Maybe we just inspired him to get out of his dead end job, get married, and make babies. And I'm ok with that, too. But so help me, I want some credit.
I looked over at the three men across from me and to my left. They were speaking French and they were large guys, yet they had all squeezed into what looked like two seats. I know from experience that those French types have no issues with not having any personal space on the Metro, so I figured they were quite comfy.
Next to them, directly across from me, was this Asian guy in his 20's. He was just listening to his iPod at first and then, he did something that caught my attention. He looked over at our family, took off his earphones, then pulled out a pen and what looked like a journal. He opened it and I saw short entries scribbled inside. He turned to a fresh page and started writing. I could barely just make out this sentence at the top: "A family of six got on the subway..." and that's all I could see before he looked up at me and I looked away hastily.
He kept writing and writing, and in between writing, he kept looking at me (I have great peripheral vision), then he would look at Ben, then each of the kids in turn. I was dying to see what he was writing about us, and I sort of wanted to yell, "What the heck are you writing about us in your diary?" But I didn't, and we got to 66th St., our stop, and he had written a full page, and we got up and got off. And I will never ever know. And it kills me.
I wonder if he will write a blog about us. Or make a TV show. Or an immersion art piece. Or a book, or comic book! Maybe it will be called, "The day I saw some people on the subway who were so obviously Mormon that I had to write it down," or, as I prefer to think, "The day I saw the most ridiculously good-looking, stylish mom with unfortunate roots that I have ever seen."
Come on, a page?! Maybe we just inspired him to get out of his dead end job, get married, and make babies. And I'm ok with that, too. But so help me, I want some credit.
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