Bible Blue

Kullervo has this really nice Bible that I was coveting.  Of course, I could have just read it myself, but it always feels like you should use your own Bible–somehow more personal or something.  His Bible had a soft cover that was just, nice to touch and hold.

So I got a new Bible the other day.

It's pretty!  It's blue!

It’s pretty! It’s blue!

Not only have I been sinfully coveting Kullervo’s Bible, but also, in our small group at church we have been talking about practices that we should be making into habits to be better Christians and bring us closer to God.  I need to read the Bible more often.

Not only have I been considering stealing Kullervo’s Bible and hiding it away for my own use, and condemning myself for my lack of hard core spiritual practices, but Oliver has been reading the Bible.  And he’s read more of the New Testament than I have.  I’ve read more of the Bible overall, but I’ve never read Acts, and he’s almost finished with it.

And he can’t win.

He is a MONSTER!!!!! (-ously fast reader)

He is a MONSTER!!!!!
(-ously fast reader)


So, I got my new Bible, and I’m reading Acts.  And I will stop the evil in my heart towards Kullervo for having such a cool Bible.  And I will stop self-flagellating for being a lazy Christian (in other words, stop scratching my pregnancy rash until I bleed).  And I will BEAT MY SEVEN YEAR OLD IN THE BIBLE READING RACE.  Dammit.




Loss of a Tooth

Oliver is seven and a half.  This sweet child, bless his heart, has had to go this long without losing any teeth.  Other kids start losing their teeth in kindergarten… Hazel has friends who have lost teeth already.  And Oliver’s teeth were stubbornly hanging on for dear life.

I tried explaining to him that it’s a good thing–what with inflation on earnings from the Tooth Fairy, and the fact that the less time you have your grown up teeth, the less time you have to screw them up… but he wasn’t buying it.  He just wanted to lose his danged teeth.

I want to pause for a moment and contemplate with you how weird it is that this happens to us.  If some other body part suddenly became loose and wiggly and fell OFF OF OUR BODY, we would not celebrate.  We would go to the hospital.  I know that there are replacements standing in the wings for our fallen baby teeth, but it’s still so odd to me.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, Oliver’s tooth finally got a little bit loose.  He quickly learned that it isn’t all Tooth Fairies and rainbows, however, because biting into some foods was quite painful for him.  And when we’ve been on the go, having a husband who carries a knife around all the time has been handy when we give the kids apples to munch on… and realize that the poor child can’t eat them whole.  (The difficulty of biting into an apple with loose/lost teeth is a trauma I have not fully gotten over from my kindergarten days when Miss Linda wouldn’t cut my apple, which made me cry, and I hate crying in front of people, so I hated her from them on, and apparently have not gotten over it.)

Then, early Saturday morning, it happened.  Oliver’s tooth fell out.  He proudly pranced into our room at some unholy hour to show us (Kullervo).  When Hazel found out, she cried.  She’s apparently been holding out hope that she would lose her first tooth before Oliver did.

Oliver's first gaping hole in his mouth!

Oliver’s first gaping hole in his mouth!

Well, wouldn’t you know, in the excitement of the day (and of showing the unfortunate soul who came to eat breakfast with us that day), Oliver forgot to put his tooth under his pillow.  Which I realized at an unholy hour on Sunday morning, when I panicked thinking that we had not done our parental duties of lying to our children in order to create a magical world that can collapse on them when they are preteens and realize that we are big, fat liars.

Not only had Oliver forgotten, however… he had also misplaced his lost tooth.

Last night, he put the following note under his pillow:

Kullervo encouraged him to write this, but had no say over content... that was all Oliver.

Kullervo encouraged him to write this, but had no say over content… that was all Oliver.

Dear Tooth Fairy, I lost my tooth on our counter today.  Please still pretend I did have it under my pillow.  love, Oliver

This morning, when Oliver woke up, he found this under his pillow.

The Tooth Fairy, if you're wondering, was born a righty but was forced into using her left hand to write with... hence the handwriting.

The Tooth Fairy, if you’re wondering, was born a righty but was forced into using her left hand to write with… hence the handwriting.

Along with the note, Oliver received two dollar coins and six dollar bills.  It turns out that the Tooth Fairy, when looking for appropriate amounts of change, cannot count and gave an extra dollar bill.  Kullervo pointed out this morning that she’s a Tooth Fairy, not an accountant, so I should stop worrying about it.

Whatever.  I’m an accountant.

My Kids Think I’m Stupid

Oliver's painting

Oliver walked out of school today holding this painting he had done in art class today. Since the fish pictures are textured, I asked him what he had used to paint them (wondering if they had maybe cut designs into potatoes, or used sponges, etc.)…

His response?
“Paint, Mom. I used paint.”

Thanks, kid.


Oliver took it upon himself to teach Hazel how to read today.  He asked me how he had learned, and I told him that we had started with simple letter combinations, like AT, and then built on them, by adding “B” for bat, and “C” for cat, etc.

So, Oliver walked over to his chalkboard and wrote “AT” on it.  His conversation with Hazel proceeded like this:

Oliver:  Hazel, A-T says at.

Hazel:  At.

Oliver:  Good!  Now you can read at!!

(Oliver writes a B in front of at.)

Oliver:  Hazel, what sound does B make?

Hazel:  Buh.

Oliver:  That is correct.  [Note:  He really said that!]  Now, if you put ‘buh’ with ‘at’, what does it say?

Hazel:  Buh-at.

Oliver:  That is incorrect.  It says bat.

Hazel: Bat.

Oliver:  Good!  You can read bat now.

(Oliver writes an S after bat.)

Oliver:  Hazel, what sound does S say?

Hazel:  Ssss.

Oliver:  Right.  Now, if you add S to bat, it says bats.

Hazel:  Bats.

Oliver:  Correct!  You can read bats now.

(Oliver writes a QU after BATS.)

Oliver:  Hazel, what does QU say?

Hazel:  I don’t know.  (walks away.  Oliver grabs her arm and drags her back.)

Oliver:  QU says “kwuh”.

Hazel:  Kwuh.

Oliver:  Good!  Now, what does it say at the end of bats?

Hazel:  Kwuh.

Oliver:  Batsqu.

Oliver then writes a – and underneath it writes the word LINE.  The chalkboard now looks like this:


Oliver:  Hazel, L-I-N-E says line.

Hazel:  Line.

Oliver:  Now it says batsquline.

Hazel:  Batsquline.

Oliver (looking at me):  Mommy, Hazel can read now.  I just taught her.

December 2

Today I am thankful for winter picnics in the living room.

Also, for the massive amount of amusement I got listening to the kids negotiate which of their pretend friends and animals could join them at the table.

Like any big brother, Oliver ended negotiations by eating Hazel’s pretend puppy. His logic?

“What? I said the bunny could sit with us, after all.”

The Kids

Many thanks to an old friend, Kimber (aka One) for letting me know she wanted to see pictures of my kids!

First, there is Oliver.  He’s four and a half now, brilliant (of course), funny (obviously), talented (clearly), and has an unbiased mother (indubitably).  He also totally gets Christmas.  He was telling me today all about all of the presents that he wants for Christmas, and I said, “Now, you know that Christmas is about more than just getting presents right?”

He responded, “Yeah, I know that.  It’s also about snow.  And candy.”

Then there’s Hazel.  Her world is made of magic and you can’t help but fall in love with all of the epic cuteness.  She says such wonderful things that I can’t help but wonder if she’s plotting world destruction through adorability.  She memorizes the lyrics to songs after hearing them twice, and sings along with the radio she insists on leaving on in her room all the time, tuned to the local country station.

So, these are my kids.  I love them.  They drive me crazy, they bring out the best and the very worst in me, and I wouldn’t change them for anything in the world because they are the absolute perfect versions of themselves.