I have a four and a half year old daughter. Lately she’s become fascinated with seatbelts and is possessed by the desire to buckle her stuffed animals into the car seat next to her whenever we drive anywhere. This was a little silly but we went along with it. Then she decided that if only one of her parents were in the car that her animals should ride up front (still buckled in of course). So, ok, I went along with it. I don’t mind driving around town with a giant stuffed Shrek doll buckled into the passenger seat. Really, I don’t.
Then a couple of days ago, she got hold of a short length of plywood which was once a part of some project or other that my wife was working on. My daughter painted a face on this piece of wood and named it “Plank.” Now she’s been toting this stupid piece of wood everywhere she goes (naturally ignoring both the Shrek AND the Donkey dolls which she insisted that she needed two weeks ago and which cost daddy 20 bucks each). Since “Plank” is her current toy of choice, it’s the thing that she is now adamant on buckling into the passenger seat while I’m driving her around town. And of course, I cave right in to her demands. I drove across town today with a length of 1’ by '4 plywood strapped into the passenger seat smiling idiotically at the glove compartment.
What ludicrous, absurd, ridiculous whims have you indulged for your own kids?
Not too ridiculous, but I always had to make the stuffed animals “talk”. The kids could see me moving my mouth, but they still believed that the stuffed animals were really talking and insisted on carrying on long conversations with them. This carried over to blankies, as well.
Also, sandwiches cut into 4 triangles apparently taste different from sandwiches cut in 2 rectangles. Sandwiches were just not edible unless they are cut into 4 triangles and arranged as butterflies.
Not my kid, but my neice. She came into our family when she was two and a half (adopted) right around Christmas. The first time she was at a family gathering she was a bit shy and stayed very close to my BIL all evening, not saying much and just watching everything. So, it’s time for everyone to go home and we’re standing around making the last minute shopping plans and I notice my neice looking at me from the behind my BIL’s leg. I don’t know what came over me, a grown woman of 33, but I broke into a rendition of “I’m a little teapot” complete with gestures and she just laughed and laughed. I did it again, and she (and the rest of the family) laughed and laughed. For the next week, I became a teapot on a regular basis.
My daughter has a deep and abiding love for public restrooms. No, seriously, she loves them. We frequent the one at Wal-Mart quite a bit but her all time favorite is Lowe’s.
Does it matter that she just peed at home before we left the house? No. Because Mom knows what will happen if, heaven forbid, the kid is telling the truth and she really DOES have to pee. She knows she’s got Mom by the balls, too, so we go to the big girl potty pretty much every time we’re there. Complete with a trip to the soap dispenser and sink and then the cool blower thingy.
My kids are always begging me to pick them up by their ears.
Now before you call social services, I should explain that it’s a trick - but nonetheless one that surprises and astounds most of their friends.
What you do is, with the child facing you, gently grip their ears between the tips of your fingers and the heels of your palms, thus pressing a loose fist against either side of the child’s head. The child brings up both arms and hooks his/her fingers over the top of your hands (between your thumb and wrist) - you lift the child up - all of the weight is borne by their arms, but it looks like you’re picking them up by their ears and they have just raised their hands in reaction.
I, too, am a sucker of a parent. A year ago, my middle daughter bought my youngest daughter (who was three at the time) a stuffed Tinky Winky doll. It quickly became my little girls’ lovey. She goes nowhere and does nothing without Tinky Winky. This past year, in pre-school, Tinky Winky went to school with her (fine with the teacher, as long as the toy stays in the book bag). About a month before school let out, we got almost all the way to the school when we realized she didn’t have TW. Yes, I actually drove all the way back home, risking that she would be late for school, rather than making her go to school without her precious Tinky Winky. Oh, she also insists that he get buckled in.
I must say, though, that I turn into a hard-ass when she can’t find something and won’t even look for it. Our conversations go like this:
Her: Where’s puppy? (a stuffed animal she likes)
Me: I dunno. Is he in your room?
Her: You go look.
Me: No. Mommy’s busy. If you want puppy, go find him.
Her: It’s tooooo looooong (her way of saying it takes too long for her to do it).
Me: Oh, well, I guess you won’t have puppy, then.
Her: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
But I ignore her, and eventually she goes to look for whatever she wants by herself. If she’s actively looking, and can’t find it, I’ll help her. But if she just wants to lay on the sofa while I do the work? No dice.
When my son was little he was fascinated with trains and train crossings. He loved the warning bells, the flashing lights and the boom gates so whenever I was out on the road I would have to hang around a crossing until a train came along, often several times a day. We would even make special trips out just to see the trains and the “ding dongs”. Sometimes I would have to lift him up so he could touch them on some of the smaller crossings. It was a never ending source of delight to him which lasted for years, progressing to taking him for train rides all over the city.
He’s a teenager now and still loves travelling by train, he goes miles out of his way so he can catch a train to school rather than take the bus.
When my son was 2, we lived in Phoenix. Why is Phoenix relevant? Because they have garbage trucks with loooong metal arms that reach out and snatch your garbage can, lift overhead (to empty) and replace it in your driveway. Naturally, my son thought they were the coolest thing on the planet, and I had to wake him up (at 0700) on garbage day so we could run out and watch it. One day he asked where the garbage went. So we hopped in our truck and FOLLOWED the garbage truck for hours to find out where it took the garbage.
My 19 month old daughter started having us put diapers on her favorite dolls. We also have to change them regularly, though not as often as the real thing.
For car trips, she requires star stickers on ach hand, as if she’s had her hand stamped for an amusement park ride. We also made the mistake of buying a Wiggles CD, which now is a prerequisite for driving anywhere. For weeks now, I wake up with different Wiggles songs in my head. I really need to buy some different CDs for her.
My 3 month old son isn’t old enough for any weird demands yet.
I pick my 4 yr. old daugther up by her ankles and hoist her into the air. We pretend that she is stuck in the mud, and I am extracting her.
I let my 18 mo. old son go in my closet. That in itself is ridiculous. He then proceeds to open and close the closet repeatedly.
Everyday when I come home from work, I have immediately pick up my 18 mo. old son and take him outside so he can see my neighbors cat standing in the doorway. Half the time the cat is not even there, but if I don’t do this my son will point and make “woof-woof” (he doesn’t seem to make the distinction between cats and dogs yet) sounds until I do.
My 18 mo. old son wakes up ~ 6:30AM every day. Why? Because he knows that Bear in the Big Blue House is on at 6:30AM, that’s why! Every morning I watch Bear in the Big Blue House with him. I’m barely awake. I’ve had no coffee. And it always starts out the same.
[que hot jazz beat]
Welcome to the blue house
Hello from the small mouse…
Aaah!!
There’s more, but now I can’t get that song out of my head!
For car trips, she requires star stickers on ach hand, as if she’s had her hand stamped for an amusement park ride. We also made the mistake of buying a Wiggles CD, which now is a prerequisite for driving anywhere. For weeks now, I wake up with different Wiggles songs in my head. I really need to buy some different CDs for her.
[QUOTE]
O yes, it’s the same for us too!
For my daughter, it has to be either The Wiggles CD or the JoJo’s Circus CD. Lord, we have heard all of those songs at least 20 times!
The only rediculous thing I’m doing is cat-sitting my daughter’s two cats while her ship (she’s in the US Navy) is at sea for 6 months. Don’t get me wrong, I like the cats, but I didn’t need the little devils in my life at this time.
Captain Feathersword, he loves to dance,
He will show you how…
hijack: Do any of you find the song that goes:
*...Would you giggle if I tickled you
Between you toes? ...*
to be extremely creepy?
BTW- my parents bought the Jo-Jo CD for their house when she’s visiting. That’s **their/b] personal hell, and I won’t get involved in that!
Sorry bout that to everyone who knows that pain of having kids’ songs stuck in their head.
Welcome, welcome, welcome to the Big Blue House
Sorry.
My child loves to dance. Anytime she hears music, she must dance. No exceptions.
And I have to join her. I have danced in the aisles at Wal-Mart more times than I care to count. I try not to take her out at Christmas for fear that all the caroles will cause the men in white coats to come pick me up as I dance my way through the mall.
My oldest boy just turned three last month. A couple weeks ago, he was kicking a ball around inside and I told him to knock it off before he broke something. Three warnings later, he’s still kicking it ever so lightly while staring me down as if to ask “does this count? does this? what about this?”
With his last kick the ball sailed over and smacked the baby in the face who promptly started screaming. Angry, I swatted kiddo on the butt and swept the baby up for cuddles. Now, I almost never even yell at kiddo, let alone swat him, so this was fairly traumatic for us all. His lip started to quiver, and he looked at me as if I’d grown another head and I felt awful!
I asked him if he was Ok and he broke. Big whooping sobs, he crawled into my lap for a hug next to his brother. Then he stood up, turned around, and shoved his butt in my face.
“Kiss it,” he sobbed. “Kiss my butt.”
Yes, I kissed his ass. Let me hang my head in shame.
