Daddy / Daughter (and Son) Weekend

Lauralee traveled to St. George today to say hello to new nephew Owen....Quinn stayed home to watch the Utes bowl game.

And watch the kids, of course. I can't believe it took me a new paragraph to remember that. Take care of the kids, yes.

It's been an eventful day already. I've been keeping a video journal like in Man vs. Wild. It's kind of felt like it too, except I haven't had to eat any insects yet.

Highlights of the day (besides the thrilling Utah overtime Sun Bowl victory):

Emma has had a problem lately with taking any piece of furniture that she can handle, toppling it over and using it for whatever non-intended (often dangerous) use she can. For example, leaning a banana chair upside down against the couch and sliding down it like a slide, or turning the glider rocker footstool upside down and trying to balance on it -- because balancing on it right side up is not dangerous enough. Anyway, today I took a stand and told her that any furniture she knocks over will result in a fine, payable by her piggy bank, for me to turn the furniture rightside up again. Today I collected 3 times.

Emma decided to "wash the TV" and poured a large amount of water on the TV screen, which dripped down into the TV's rusty innards and fried it. Technically the screen still works, but it mashes the entire picture into a 1 centimeter tall rectangle stretching across the screen. Several ants have pulled up in little tiny ant cars; they mistook the TV for a drive-in theater.

(Editor's note: Thankfully the ruined TV was a clunker used only for Playstation games and kiddie videos. Also, we do not actually have an ant problem.)

After a lengthy discussion on electrocution, Emma apologized for ruining the TV. She said "I hope the TV workers have more TVs so we can get a new one." Still not impressed that she was appropriately racked with guilt, I said, "Do you have enough money to buy a new TV since you poured water on the old one?" Without missing a beat she said, "I don't have enough, Dad, because you took money out of my piggy bank three times today. That's why I don't have enough."

Later in the day, we were all playing in James' room. Emma looked out the window and noticed some trash in our backyard.

(Editor's note: No matter which direction the wind is blowing, we always end up with garbage from our neighbors in our yard.)

Emma: "Dad, there's a piece of garbage in our yard!"
Me: "I know sweetie, I wish our neighbors' garbage would stop blowing into our yard."
Emma: "Well maybe that's something I can pray about."
Me: "Well, okay, if you want to bu..."
Emma (already kneeling with arms folded): "Dear Heavenly Father, please bless that our neighbors' garbage will stop blowing into our yard .... (peaking up to see if I am listening) ... in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

I took both kids to McDonald's for dinner. James refused to drink his chocolate milk if I was touching the carton in any way. However, if I let go of the carton, he would tilt it back -- despite the fact that it had a straw -- until it would spill out the top. After Emma kept trying to run off to the Playland, I told them we weren't going to play in Playland, we were going straight home. Emma immediately grabbed the closest food she could find -- it happened to be a handful of french fries -- and said, "Dad you can't take us home yet I'm still eating!" When I gave her a skeptical look, she grabbed some more food and, even though she was CLEARLY not enjoying it, put it in her mouth and robotically chewed. Who would budge first? Would I rescind my Playland ban? Or would she finally admit that she was only eating to prevent us from going home? I stared at her, she stared at me, methodically chewing. And you know what? I did let them play at Playland, because 1) Emma, for the first time in her life, finished all her chicken nuggets, 2) I just had to reward a performance like that and 3) I didn't have anything more fun for them to do at home.

There was another little girl at the Playland -- Emma attached herself to her immediately and I overheard this conversation as they were climbing together:
Little Girl: "What's your name?"
Emma: "Emma Mary Lavender"
(Editor's note: Emma's pronunciation is not yet stellar. Also we have been practicing her full name and home town in case she ever gets lost. I was not until this evening aware that she might be sharing this information with perfect strangers.)
Little Girl: "What?"



Emma: "Emma Mary Lavender"
Little Girl: "What?"
Emma: "Emma Mary Lavender"
Little Girl: "Baby Wawawa?
Me (yelling): "Just tell her it's EMMA!!!"

Finally, as I read books to the kids tonight, James kept reaching over and bugging Emma while they sat on my lap. I realized that James was pulling Emma's thumb out of her mouth every time she'd stick it in. Yep, he can't say more than 5 words, but he's taken it upon himself to enforce our "no thumbs" policy on his sister. I can't wait to see how this turns out...

Happy New Year,
Emma "TV Killer" Lavender
James "No Thumbs on My Watch" Lavender
Quinn "Wait Until Your Mother Gets Home" Lavender