Lamby and the Heretical Book Collection

Children have always had a special toy or scrap of what used to resemble a blanket that they hold dearest above all other worldly possessions (and usually siblings too).  My children are no exception. I allow them to have one special item that they do not have to share with any other kids. I'm sure if you're a parent you've done a similar thing. What I did not anticipate was that a beloved stuffed animal would challenge my parenting style and lessons taught to my children.

My oldest daughter has had this stuffed lamb since she was born. Cute right? But like a teenage friend that you don't want your own teenager to hang out with anymore, lest they set a bad example for your child, I'm beginning to think I need to call up Lamby's parents and have a chat.

Lamby when she was still an innocent stuffed animal.

Lamby and Child #1 have been inseparable since birth, but I think it might be time for a break.  You see recently I've been hearing about a lot of books that Lamby has been reading to my daughter.  It seems like whenever my daughter and I are having a discussion about something, Lamby has a book on the subject. Here's one that happened today:

Child: "Mommy, do bugs and insects go to heaven?"
Me: "That's a good question. I know more about what happens to people." (Yeah, I'm dodging that bullet for now...)
Child: "Well, Lamby has a book about whether or not bugs and insects go to heaven and she read it to me and it says that bugs and insects do go to heaven."

Great, now if I call Lamby out on her heretical book about bugs and the afterlife, I'm the bad guy.  And this isn't the only book Lamby has.  The lamb has a freaking "Beauty and the Beast" library on everything that a preschooler wants to discuss. And let me tell you, 98% of the time, Lamby's books disagree with Mommy's ideas. I remember a specific time that Lamby had a book on "Where Gasoline for Cars Comes From at the Gas Station" and it was NOT in a tank under the ground. But Lamby's book collection trumps Mother's Explanation. Every. Time. Stupid lamb even made me wikipedia a few things to make sure I wasn't crazy. And now I know I'm crazy for doubting myself based on the imaginary book collection of a stuffed animal.

How would you like your preschooler to have a library of anti-Mommy ideas like this?

I just don't know what to do. If I ban Lamby's book collection, no doubt more books would surface and be read in secret. I'm sure Lamby is just dying to read "Why You Don't Need to Brush Your Teeth Every Day" or "Your Parents Can't Really MAKE You Eat Your Vegetables" or even "You Can Go to Bed, But You Don't Have to Sleep: A Nighttime Activity Book". So I guess for now, I'll play nice with Lamby, and we can just agree to read different books.

Mommy Moo on Moving

Don't worry folks, this blog does still exist. Occasionally. I promise.  Let me tell you about why I haven't written in awhile. Last month we moved.  We moved from the "I can see in your bathroom window from my couch" suburbs to a "Hey I think I heard a car!--nope just an ATV..." rural community. In the coming weeks I vow to bring you lessons and advice from a "country" family's perspective, but for now let's just discuss how we got here.

Maybe you already know what it's like to move with children, if so, stop reading now, go get yourself a glass of wine and pat yourself on the back. Your medal is in the mail.  For those of you who haven't moved with children, buckle up and listen up.

1. Don't do it.
2. If not moving is not an option, you may now go get yourself a glass of wine. You will need it.
3. Put off contemplating how you are going to put all your worldly possessions into a few flimsy cardboard boxes for as long as possible.
4.  Now that it's a week before moving day, you may begin the frantic hunt for those darn boxes.
     a. If you have a favorite liquor store, this is the best place for finding boxes last minute. It's also a great time to replenish your wine supply that is nearly gone. Plus it makes a great impression on your future landlord when you show up with a U-haul full of liquor boxes. Trust me. Nothing says "I'm a responsible renter" like a couple dozen whiskey and vodka boxes.
     b. When you have successfully loaded up all your things that will fit into the liquor boxes and are now left with things like crock-pots and umbrellas, (Seriously, how do you pack a crock-pot??) a new wave of panic sets in, and the time has come for pestering your friends on facebook for "any leads on boxes". (Who knew you'd be ever be a nervous wreck in search of "leads" for cardboard?!) This is a low point, and you may want to pop a few corks from your new supply.
5.  Now that you have packed all your boxes, it's time to recollect all the items from around your house that you *thought* were in boxes but the kids have found and wandered off with. Here's where the fun of moving with kids begins.  See, most adults can count on something being left where they left it.  Once a box is packed, you can bet it will still be packed in the morning.  Movers with kids will frequently battle the overzealous toddler that feels the need to extract every item and present it to you as some sort of gift: "Here, Mommy! I'm helping!"
     a. While you re-pack all of your boxes, this is a prime time for your preschooler to come and ask, "Mommy, why are you packing that box?"  This is not the first time the topic and philosophy of "moving" has come up.  In fact, for the past 3 weeks it is quite likely that this same child has asked, "Are we moving TODAY?". And please be aware that if you answer again what "moving" is, that does not mean they won't feel the need to ask the same question for *every* box that you pack. Nope, not exaggerating.
          i.  In order to get some actual packing done, I recommend loading your children up with crayons and setting them loose on your supply of boxes.  There will be some casualties, but nothing a Magic Eraser can't fix.
6. Go to the store and buy more Magic Erasers. Lots.
7. Time to rent the moving truck.  If at all possible I recommend hiring a babysitter for this time because if you don't you will be chasing your children up and down the loading ramp instead of loading actual, y'know, boxes.
8.  The truck is loaded; it's time to set out.  If you are driving the car with the children to your new house, I'm sorry. We tried to plan our move at about bed time so the kids would pass out as soon as they were buckled, but um, it didn't quite go as planned. Instead the trip consisted of about 50 miles of "I can see the truck!"... "I can't see the truck!"..."Where's the truck?"..."Is that the truck?"...and I didn't realize this actually happened, "Are we there yet?"
9. Once you have had all your sanity can handle, I calculated that at 50 miles, it's time for some drastic measures: Jazz.  I'm pretty sure it's scientifically proven that human beings can not process the cacophony that is jazz and so the body rapidly shuts down into a deep hibernation.  This effect is exponential in young children.  Once your children have slipped into their comas, it's time to focus on *your* antidote to jazz, else you will never make it to your new house.  Just try singing along to the music. Your brain will get an adrenaline boost trying to predict exactly where that jazz music is going to go.
10. On the other end of the move, it's really quite simple.  Get your hands on a large appliance box, throw your kids in with some kibble, cut window if desired.

~Mommy Moo