Our children watched "The Sound of Music" for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and it is now clear to me that I have the daughter I dreamed of from the time I was small. Lulu has now watched it three times, each time studying it more and more intently ("Is that man Hitler?"). After each viewing, I have heard her humming the songs (reinforced by our current car playlist of musicals). It is so sweet.
Honestly, I don't think Tommy minds it too much, either ("Mom, if the Von Trapps aren't Nazis, are they democrats?").
Not to toot my own horn, but both my kids are decent singers, thank goodness. I put a solo I sang on the musicals playlist (not me signing it; the original) and now every night while they shower they like me to sing it to them. It's almost like they think I'm a super star, except then I get zingers like, "Mommy, when you 'bun' your hair and put on a nice dress, you look prettier."
***
Today in the grocery store line, a guy asked me if Lizzie is three and when I said she was five, he said, "but she has her finger in her mouth! She must be a baby!" Lizzie started to cry -- she claimed it was because she felt sick -- and he sort of lost interest in the conversation. But as I pushed the cart out, I told her that I sucked my thumb until I was six (or maybe eight??), and I'm not going to force her to stop. But, I told her that when she wants to stop, she can tell me and I will help her do it. With Eli and me as her parents, she was going to need braces anyway, and I don't see any reason to put a bunch of pressure on a five year old.
Many people disagree with me. One of her classmate's mother is a dentist, and she keeps telling me that Lizzie has to stop sucking her thumb. Which I find so odd, as I can imagine myself offering professional advice to an acquaintance one time but not more especially if the acquaintance is clearly ignoring me.
***
Lizzie has begun to pout and otherwise exercise her melodramatic flair in earnest. Not a day passes during which I don't make her mad, she runs into another room and turns her back toward me. Then, she waits for the reconciliation to begin.
Imagine how angry it makes her when I ignore her. After a few minutes, she comes running toward me with her arms out, crying, and when I pick her up she tells me that if I want to make her happy, I'll give her a "loving hug". (Those exact words.) The first time, I was blown away by such a sweet request; now I can barely suppress an eye roll.
Honestly, I don't think Tommy minds it too much, either ("Mom, if the Von Trapps aren't Nazis, are they democrats?").
Not to toot my own horn, but both my kids are decent singers, thank goodness. I put a solo I sang on the musicals playlist (not me signing it; the original) and now every night while they shower they like me to sing it to them. It's almost like they think I'm a super star, except then I get zingers like, "Mommy, when you 'bun' your hair and put on a nice dress, you look prettier."
***
Today in the grocery store line, a guy asked me if Lizzie is three and when I said she was five, he said, "but she has her finger in her mouth! She must be a baby!" Lizzie started to cry -- she claimed it was because she felt sick -- and he sort of lost interest in the conversation. But as I pushed the cart out, I told her that I sucked my thumb until I was six (or maybe eight??), and I'm not going to force her to stop. But, I told her that when she wants to stop, she can tell me and I will help her do it. With Eli and me as her parents, she was going to need braces anyway, and I don't see any reason to put a bunch of pressure on a five year old.
Many people disagree with me. One of her classmate's mother is a dentist, and she keeps telling me that Lizzie has to stop sucking her thumb. Which I find so odd, as I can imagine myself offering professional advice to an acquaintance one time but not more especially if the acquaintance is clearly ignoring me.
***
Lizzie has begun to pout and otherwise exercise her melodramatic flair in earnest. Not a day passes during which I don't make her mad, she runs into another room and turns her back toward me. Then, she waits for the reconciliation to begin.
Imagine how angry it makes her when I ignore her. After a few minutes, she comes running toward me with her arms out, crying, and when I pick her up she tells me that if I want to make her happy, I'll give her a "loving hug". (Those exact words.) The first time, I was blown away by such a sweet request; now I can barely suppress an eye roll.
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