Emma got a new book from my mom. At bedtime, I asked her if she wanted me to read the new book from Grannie.

“No,” she said. “I want a different book.”

So we read a different book.

The next day, the same discussion.

“Do you want to read the new book from Grannie?” I asked.

“No, I don’t like it,” she said. “I want a different book.”

So we read a different book.

The next day came and I asked her again which book she wanted to read.

“I don’t know,” she said. “You choose.”

“Okay, let’s read the new book from Grannie,” I said.

“No, I don’t like it,” she replied. “Choose a different book.”

“Why don’t you like it?” I asked. “You’ve never read it.”

“I just don’t like the look of it,” she said.

So I asked her if she had ever heard the expression “Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover.” She hadn’t. I tried to explain it as best as I could to a four year old. Eventually, she seemed to get it and agreed to read the book with me.

“What did you think of the book?” I asked her when we had finished reading.

“It wasn’t very good.” she replied.

She was right. It wasn’t a very good book (sorry mom!). So much for teaching a lesson.

Photo credit: ~Brenda Starr~ on flickr

“Nobody played with me all day,” he says as I’m lying with him at bedtime. Sometimes he may be right, because of the nature of what was on our agenda that day or simply because he opted for solo activities instead. Sometimes, however, it sounds like an exaggeration at best and a slap in the face at worst on those days when I played game after game or planned a series of fun activities.

“No one ever plays with me,” he says. Not true, I think.“Don’t you remember when we played this or when you and Daddy played that.” Those, in his mind, were exceptions, of course and not the rule.

I like fostering some independence in our kids and having them able to entertain themselves. I don’t see it as my responsibility to be their personal entertainment director all day long. But I also want the time we spend together to be memorable. I would like us to have joint memories of the good times and the bad, things that we can share, cherish, and look back on together.

I’m sure my childhood memories do not match those of my parents exactly (except where they have told the same story so many times that it is etched that way in my memory) and I want my children to develop their own memories and perceptions. I just hope, selfishly perhaps, that I’ll be part of them.

Do your children sometimes perceive things differently from you?

Emma: Mama!

Me: What?

Julian: What Mama?

Emma: [something incomprehensible, at the same time Julian was speaking]

Me: What is it Emma? [attempt to clarify who I am talking to and get her to repeat herself]

Julian: It’s not Emma, it’s me Julian.

Me [to Julian]: I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to your sister.

Emma: I don’t have a sister.

You may recognize those blue eyes from the blog header. She’s grown a bit since then, but the blue eyes and the messy face remain. Pass the facecloth please.

This year’s cake “masterpiece” for the Lego birthday party. I don’t claim to be a skilled cake artist, but I do have fun with it.  Want to see past cakes? Pink Panther and Scooby Doo.

Dora PJ shirt backwards and inside out.

Brother’s underwear over hot pink shorts.