This is just a short post to please my husband:
Martin: Come on you two! You better hurry up and finish packing so we can get on the road. Do you like sitting in traffic?
Ambriel: (thoughtful pause) Well, no not really. I mean, it's okay if I'm inside a car, but it wouldn't be safe otherwise.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Ambriel on Love and Marriage
Many of you are already aware of Ambriel's recent preoccupation with her matrimonial future. It began, I believe, when I asked her who she would like to be the father of the many children she is continually planning to have. Her initial response, after some thought, was that she wants him to not have a wife.
Me: "Don't you think you'll be his wife?"
Ambriel: "Yeah, maybe. I just don't want him to have somebody else who is his wife."
I thought that was at least a good place to start as far as qualifications for a mate go, but she later seemed to abandon this particular criterion as she announced that she was going to marry Daddy when she grows up. Daddy seemed fine with this plan, but I did not approve. I realize I may just be a little overly sensitive on this topic, having already lost one husband to a younger woman, but I was adamant that I would not approve of being supplanted by my daughter. Ambriel tried to appease me by assuring that I would be allowed to continue living in the house with her and Daddy, as long as I traded rooms with her, but I would not negotiate.
Finally, she decided it wasn't worth upsetting me, so she started thinking about who else to marry. She considered the boys that she knows, rejecting some because she deemed them too lazy, too immature, or too argumentative (again, excellent criteria) and finally honed in on one boy: Ian.
Ambriel: "Ian is so manageable. He always plays whatever I want to play. And he's so little and cute! You should pat him on his head next time you see him."
Ian is only about 7 months younger than Ambriel, but he is rather diminutive in size, which has given her some pause for thought. I'm told she commented to one of my friends on the subject.
Ambriel: "I'm going to marry him someday, but he's smaller than me so I might die before he ever gets bigger than me. He's a small four; I'm a big four."
I can understand her concern, but I think she's wise to focus on compatibility of personality rather than physical traits. I'm also pretty sure it's serious because she told me she's planning to introduce Ian to Bean at her upcoming 5th birthday party. If he can still love her after that, I think they're in good shape.
Oh, and if you're wondering whether or not Ian knows he is the lucky man, Ambriel will be happy to discuss it with you.
Ambriel: "Oh, yes. He knows because I told him. We've already practiced our wedding."
Me: "Don't you think you'll be his wife?"
Ambriel: "Yeah, maybe. I just don't want him to have somebody else who is his wife."
I thought that was at least a good place to start as far as qualifications for a mate go, but she later seemed to abandon this particular criterion as she announced that she was going to marry Daddy when she grows up. Daddy seemed fine with this plan, but I did not approve. I realize I may just be a little overly sensitive on this topic, having already lost one husband to a younger woman, but I was adamant that I would not approve of being supplanted by my daughter. Ambriel tried to appease me by assuring that I would be allowed to continue living in the house with her and Daddy, as long as I traded rooms with her, but I would not negotiate.
Finally, she decided it wasn't worth upsetting me, so she started thinking about who else to marry. She considered the boys that she knows, rejecting some because she deemed them too lazy, too immature, or too argumentative (again, excellent criteria) and finally honed in on one boy: Ian.
Ambriel: "Ian is so manageable. He always plays whatever I want to play. And he's so little and cute! You should pat him on his head next time you see him."
Ian is only about 7 months younger than Ambriel, but he is rather diminutive in size, which has given her some pause for thought. I'm told she commented to one of my friends on the subject.
Ambriel: "I'm going to marry him someday, but he's smaller than me so I might die before he ever gets bigger than me. He's a small four; I'm a big four."
I can understand her concern, but I think she's wise to focus on compatibility of personality rather than physical traits. I'm also pretty sure it's serious because she told me she's planning to introduce Ian to Bean at her upcoming 5th birthday party. If he can still love her after that, I think they're in good shape.
Oh, and if you're wondering whether or not Ian knows he is the lucky man, Ambriel will be happy to discuss it with you.
Ambriel: "Oh, yes. He knows because I told him. We've already practiced our wedding."
Friday, February 4, 2011
Classic Ambrielisms
In order to prove to my husband that the title of my blog is, in fact, justified, here are some of my favorite classic Ambrielisms. Some of them have been on facebook, but some of them are brand new :)
On theology (and Kenneth Burke):
"God made the world to be a happy place, but then some bad guys, who NEVER say PLEASE, showed up."
"God's words can do anything, but Burke's can't! He's just a man (sneeringly)."
On illness:
"It's all my sickness's fault! I wish I could punch my sickness in the face!"
On bad behavior:
"I always do bad things, and when I do, I'm no better than an icky box of honey!"
"I don't like myself when I do bad things. I'm not good enough to be Ambriel Joy anymore. Just call me Icky Coconut."
(PS I always combat such statements with professions of love and reminders of her far more frequent good behavior. I don't want any of you thinking I'm actively working to destroy my child's self image.)
On naming invisible twins:
"Her name is Elizabeth" [Me: What about her sister?] "She's named after her sister. Well, they're named after each other. That way, no one has to worry about keeping straight which one is which."
On happiness:
"I'm as happy as a bee!"
"I feel so joyful and not cooped up!" (said while spinning in circles in the swimming pool.)
I'll report more later :)
On theology (and Kenneth Burke):
"God made the world to be a happy place, but then some bad guys, who NEVER say PLEASE, showed up."
"God's words can do anything, but Burke's can't! He's just a man (sneeringly)."
On illness:
"It's all my sickness's fault! I wish I could punch my sickness in the face!"
On bad behavior:
"I always do bad things, and when I do, I'm no better than an icky box of honey!"
"I don't like myself when I do bad things. I'm not good enough to be Ambriel Joy anymore. Just call me Icky Coconut."
(PS I always combat such statements with professions of love and reminders of her far more frequent good behavior. I don't want any of you thinking I'm actively working to destroy my child's self image.)
On naming invisible twins:
"Her name is Elizabeth" [Me: What about her sister?] "She's named after her sister. Well, they're named after each other. That way, no one has to worry about keeping straight which one is which."
On happiness:
"I'm as happy as a bee!"
"I feel so joyful and not cooped up!" (said while spinning in circles in the swimming pool.)
I'll report more later :)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
How to tell if your child's perfectionism is likely to lead to a career in the arts
To really get this post, you must first understand how our little set-up works. Due to the expense of daycare and the state's refusal to let four-year-olds into kindergarten, Ambriel and I only spend about 15 hours a week apart. While this arrangement is great for alleviating my feelings of guilt over failing to be a stay at home mom, it means that all of my homework has to be completed with my little sidekick present.
Luckily for me, I am the Supreme Queen of Oblivion and can tune out just about anything when I'm really concentrating. Now before you go thinking that I'm bragging about some sort of superior discipline or focus, I should tell you that I inherited this trait directly from my father . You should never try to impart or gather essential information from either of us if we are watching television, reading, looking at something, completing a task, or even thinking intently unless you have first gotten us to make and hold eye contact and answer an initial question in a coherent manner. Just ask my mom how difficult it is to talk to us.
So when I'm sitting on my couch working on my laptop, I hardly hear the adventures of Dora, Angelina, Brother and Sister Bear, or Caillou in the background and I'm generally unaware of what exactly Ambriel is playing with her toys, even when some part of me is co-opted into the playing field. Ambriel has learned to put her hands on my cheeks to turn my head to look at her in order to bring me back into her world. She has also learned, however, that there are chinks in my armor of oblivion, like my ability to always hear if she is doing anything that is likely to end in broken bones, toys, or furniture.
Because of this oblivion, when I do emerge from an academic fog, from the need to eat or go somewhere, I have a tendency to just start talking without any regard for what Ambriel is doing at the moment. As an obedient child, she usually jumps up and does whatever I ask her to do, but occasionally she gets really frustrated.
Ambriel: Fishsticks, Momma! You made me forget what I was saying!
Me: What do you mean?
Ambriel: I was about to make my doll say something, but now I can't remember what it was! (glaring)
Me: Well I'm sure you can think of something else for her to say.
Ambriel: No! I can't. That was the perfectest thing she was going to say and nothing else will ever be as good. Ever! You've ruined my life!
Me: Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?
Ambriel: (crossed arms and sulkiness)
Now I know she says she's going to be a veterinarian, a doctor, and a super hero, but I think her overreactions to anyone interrupting her creative process point to something just a bit more artsy and temperamental, probably in Hollywood :)
Luckily for me, I am the Supreme Queen of Oblivion and can tune out just about anything when I'm really concentrating. Now before you go thinking that I'm bragging about some sort of superior discipline or focus, I should tell you that I inherited this trait directly from my father . You should never try to impart or gather essential information from either of us if we are watching television, reading, looking at something, completing a task, or even thinking intently unless you have first gotten us to make and hold eye contact and answer an initial question in a coherent manner. Just ask my mom how difficult it is to talk to us.
So when I'm sitting on my couch working on my laptop, I hardly hear the adventures of Dora, Angelina, Brother and Sister Bear, or Caillou in the background and I'm generally unaware of what exactly Ambriel is playing with her toys, even when some part of me is co-opted into the playing field. Ambriel has learned to put her hands on my cheeks to turn my head to look at her in order to bring me back into her world. She has also learned, however, that there are chinks in my armor of oblivion, like my ability to always hear if she is doing anything that is likely to end in broken bones, toys, or furniture.
Because of this oblivion, when I do emerge from an academic fog, from the need to eat or go somewhere, I have a tendency to just start talking without any regard for what Ambriel is doing at the moment. As an obedient child, she usually jumps up and does whatever I ask her to do, but occasionally she gets really frustrated.
Ambriel: Fishsticks, Momma! You made me forget what I was saying!
Me: What do you mean?
Ambriel: I was about to make my doll say something, but now I can't remember what it was! (glaring)
Me: Well I'm sure you can think of something else for her to say.
Ambriel: No! I can't. That was the perfectest thing she was going to say and nothing else will ever be as good. Ever! You've ruined my life!
Me: Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?
Ambriel: (crossed arms and sulkiness)
Now I know she says she's going to be a veterinarian, a doctor, and a super hero, but I think her overreactions to anyone interrupting her creative process point to something just a bit more artsy and temperamental, probably in Hollywood :)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Survival Guide for Children with "Invisibles"
As Ambriel and I headed into Target yesterday, she informed me that several of her "kids" had come with us to take care of their errands. I smiled and murmured, "That's nice" as I tried to remember what all was on the list I didn't bring. When I pulled out a cart, I noticed Ambriel lifting her arms over the cart in what I assumed was a nonverbal request to be lifted in. I offered to do so, but she laughed and told me she was just putting her "kids" in the cart.
Well that makes perfect sense. We proceeded through the store, but soon one of the "kids" who hadn't gotten in at first decided to ride as well. I obligingly stopped the cart to let her lift him in, and smiled at the confused look on a fellow customer's face as he watched us. By the time we made it into housewares, Ambriel was regaling me with the life story of the new "kids" she had found in the parking lot who were very poor and had no "owner." I nodded along with an occasional "Oh really?" or "That's interesting," even agreeing to be their new mother, as I searched for an inexpensive set of hand mixers.
Once again, I noticed that other customers seemed to be puzzled by what they were overhearing. While I didn't take the time to explain the situation to them, I thought perhaps I could help others in the future by creating a survival guide for dealing with children with "invisibles" and sharing it with all of you.
Here goes:
DO -- Call them "invisible" not "imaginary." Ambriel has always been adamant about using "the word that means they're real but you just can't see them." It's impossible to convince them otherwise, so save your strength for arguments you can win. They'll eventually figure it out on their own. Probably.
DO -- Go with the flow. Ask questions about the invisibles until they get bored with the game and move on. You don't want to fight it and end up looking like the mother from "Drop Dead Fred."
DON'T -- Slam doors too quickly or flop down on chairs while the invisibles are present. Taking an extra moment to check on their whereabouts can save you the embarrassment of a public apology for sitting on or crushing the fingers of an invisible. Trust me on this one.
DON'T -- Obsess over the mental health of the child. While occasionally laying awake at night calculating the future expense of therapy (or defense attorneys) is normal for parents of such children, it is usually best to just decide to be entertained by this behavior.
DO -- Choose to believe that invisibles are a sign of intelligence and creativity. I have no idea if it's true, but it's a great statement for encouraging parents or covering your butt when your first instinct is to exclaim "What the heck is wrong with that child!?"
DON'T -- Allow children to get away with blaming bad behavior on their invisibles. When they try, inform them that if they want to take their invisibles with them anywhere, they are responsible for their actions. If the invisibles cannot behave, they are no longer welcome in your car/house/store etc. Fantasy is one thing, deviant behavior is quite another.
DO -- Enjoy it while it lasts.
I was surprised to find myself a little devastated this morning when Ambriel confessed to me sheepishly that "Bean (the invisible who's been with us the longest) isn't real. She's in my imagination. I made her up as a story to tell you." I wrestled with what to say, then said, "I know." I guess I've been following my own advice well because she looked up, shocked, and asked "Because Mommas know everything?"
Not exactly, but close. :-)
Well that makes perfect sense. We proceeded through the store, but soon one of the "kids" who hadn't gotten in at first decided to ride as well. I obligingly stopped the cart to let her lift him in, and smiled at the confused look on a fellow customer's face as he watched us. By the time we made it into housewares, Ambriel was regaling me with the life story of the new "kids" she had found in the parking lot who were very poor and had no "owner." I nodded along with an occasional "Oh really?" or "That's interesting," even agreeing to be their new mother, as I searched for an inexpensive set of hand mixers.
Once again, I noticed that other customers seemed to be puzzled by what they were overhearing. While I didn't take the time to explain the situation to them, I thought perhaps I could help others in the future by creating a survival guide for dealing with children with "invisibles" and sharing it with all of you.
Here goes:
DO -- Call them "invisible" not "imaginary." Ambriel has always been adamant about using "the word that means they're real but you just can't see them." It's impossible to convince them otherwise, so save your strength for arguments you can win. They'll eventually figure it out on their own. Probably.
DO -- Go with the flow. Ask questions about the invisibles until they get bored with the game and move on. You don't want to fight it and end up looking like the mother from "Drop Dead Fred."
DON'T -- Slam doors too quickly or flop down on chairs while the invisibles are present. Taking an extra moment to check on their whereabouts can save you the embarrassment of a public apology for sitting on or crushing the fingers of an invisible. Trust me on this one.
DON'T -- Obsess over the mental health of the child. While occasionally laying awake at night calculating the future expense of therapy (or defense attorneys) is normal for parents of such children, it is usually best to just decide to be entertained by this behavior.
DO -- Choose to believe that invisibles are a sign of intelligence and creativity. I have no idea if it's true, but it's a great statement for encouraging parents or covering your butt when your first instinct is to exclaim "What the heck is wrong with that child!?"
DON'T -- Allow children to get away with blaming bad behavior on their invisibles. When they try, inform them that if they want to take their invisibles with them anywhere, they are responsible for their actions. If the invisibles cannot behave, they are no longer welcome in your car/house/store etc. Fantasy is one thing, deviant behavior is quite another.
DO -- Enjoy it while it lasts.
I was surprised to find myself a little devastated this morning when Ambriel confessed to me sheepishly that "Bean (the invisible who's been with us the longest) isn't real. She's in my imagination. I made her up as a story to tell you." I wrestled with what to say, then said, "I know." I guess I've been following my own advice well because she looked up, shocked, and asked "Because Mommas know everything?"
Not exactly, but close. :-)
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