Photographic Proof that I am The Most Awesome Mama Ever:
I let the kids take a bath in the sink
It's been said that I am a little bit weird. My house is messy and colorful and I'm known to follow some ridiculous whims, because, why not? Why say no when you can say yes?
This has resulted in wearing costumes to the grocery store, taking the guinea pig to the playground and "letting" him go down the slide, and having an ongoing serious discussion about the best way to dye the dog green. Or performing an experiment to see if a seven year old and a four year old are too big to bathe in the kitchen sink.
I'm not just wacky, though. I'm smart, too. I have taught the children that scientists are cool because they get to blow things up in the lab. (Don't try and say that's not their intention. Intentions are irrelevant. There have been more than one explosion in a Chemistry lab as a result of the actions of various members of my immediate family.) We own four chemistry sets and use them regularly. We have memberships to the zoo and several museums.
One of my great parental accomplishments is regarding football. I loathe football, but the kids love it. It is a major component of life at Daddy's. they have football-themed curtains, throw rugs, bedding, bathroom accessories, cups, plates, and, of course, outfits. They even have life-sized cut-out picture-things called "Fat Heads" on their walls at Daddy's house.
By the age of six Big Pants could explain every position in football to me, and throw a decent spiral. Sadly for him, my TV does not nor will not ever be able to tune in a football game. It's some sort of flaw peculiar to my neighborhood. *wink* But, I do throw the ball with him for hours on end in the front yard.
Big Pants has trouble with handwriting. He goes to occupational therapy at school, and because he really struggles, he really hates it. Being sneaky, I got him to spend hours crafting a poster of all the teams in the playoffs to "teach me" about football. Once he was done, I got him to add in team records and asked him which player on each team I should look for. You know, like the star player.
He wasn't sure about this one. He spent hours googling records and stats, and willingly did math to answer my question. I taught him to divide pass completions by attempts, and he spent hours willingly practicing division. Most Awesome Mama Ever.
Tiny Pants is not so obsessed with football, which is good in my opinion. I really like the shape of both of their heads the way they are. Tiny Pants loves to tell stories. I love to provoke his story telling towards unexpected conclusions.
Here's an example:
Tiny Pants: It's good to know a magician. If my house ever falls down, I'm going to find a magician to magic it back up.
Big Pants: Houses don't just fall down!
Mama: Sure they do!
Tiny Pants: They could fall down in a big storm. Or a tornado.
Mama: Or a big, bad wolf.
Big Pants: Wolves are NOT bad! They are animals.
Tiny Pants: Well, I ran into a Big Bad Wolf once, and I'm telling you, I am NEVER leaving Ohio again!
Mama: Tiny, maybe you'll be a writer someday, and write down the story of what happened.
Tiny Pants: No, Mama, I'm going to be a scientist, because I want to blow stuff up all day.