After much deliberation here in the Schenanigans household, Captain Schenanigans and I agreed that it was finally time to take 6yr old Girlchild out of the 5-point harness car seat, and convert it to booster seat tonight. It was a natural progression, and within advised guidelines, but each step away from a rear facing car seat was less safe than the last. Not the type of milestone I relish.
Apparently the only thing less safe than transitioning car seats, is eating whatever food scraps fall out of the car seat during the transition. Tonight at dinner Manchild, my adventuresome eater, chewed up a piece of stir fried beef and made the horrific face of a man being poisoned. It was a no go. Yet not an hour later, while his father flipped over his sister’s car seat in the foyer, Manchild scavenged like a starving child and, apparently (I was not there to witness this), snarfed up a piece of ancient string cheese that tumbled to the ground. Clearly, it was more appealing than the dinners we serve ’round here.
“Manchild, did that taste good?” Girlchild asked in horror, ten minutes later.
“No,” stated Manchild matter of factly. “It made me throw up!”
Checking the top of the trash can, Girlchild verified his facts like an astute journalist. It was true. The boy would not eat all of his dinner, but failed to even hesitate to gobble down car seat food. That’s just disgusting.
Fast forward 15 minutes of observing the miraculous chair transition, and it was now time to snuggle with a complaining Manchild in his bed. While I attempted to draw him close, he let me know “it’s NOT FAIR” that his sister got to stay up another 10 minutes more (ignoring the fact that he was in bed 20 minutes late) than he did. I tried to explain that he was smaller and needed more rest, but he countered my argument with “little kids grow hard!” Implying that his sister needed more rest than we were giving her by not putting her to bed at 7:50pm, but letting her stay up to greet the dawn at 8pm instead. Nice try small boy, still not working.
Despite a full morning of Summer Bible Camp at church, an afternoon of GI delight at grandma’s house consuming corn dogs, mac-n-cheese, chocolate, and ice cream, plus an evening of puddle hopping with his sister in the rain, this kid still deemed himself not tired. For nights like this, Benadryl’s makers put warning labels on their bottles, cautioning parents against this option. It’s well played, McNeil Consumer Healthcare, well played.
Ten minutes ago she had both her brother’s light-up camo boots on, then things must have gone horribly, horribly awry.
Finally, both kids are in bed and discussing the finer points of The Princess Bride. Last week-end at a friend’s Movie Birthday Party they watched this flic for the first time. It’s taken a looooot of explaining to make them believe that no one got hurt in real life, and acting is a blood-free game. They weren’t emotional about it, just surprised that they could be fooled so easily. Their confidence in their intelligence is rock solid.
So that catches us all up here in Schenanigansland, and concludes this batch of Schenanigans news. After being away last week, I had blogger’s constipation and felt the lack of story telling like a stuffy nose. No one would know that our bunnies still can’t master procreation if I don’t blog it, right? Or that I finally drug home an animal that Captain Schenanigans has fallen for, and I got more text pictures about Jax-the-Barn-Cat than my children while I was in Colorado. How did I ever survive before blogging? It’s mind clearing and personally entertaining. I rarely know what I am going to write about before I set my computer on my lap and type away. That’s all part of the thrill (in this gal’s world, anyway).
I must have been over-posting on Facebook like a spot-light snatching champion. That’s all I can figure. Anyway, from our beautiful mess to yours, thank you for reading, my faithful followers (you both know who you are). Good-bye and good night!
No one can cold stare like an attack chicken can cold stare!