These two are quite the pair and seem to be together a good bit- whether chasing around the house in the cozy coupe or chilling out reading a book- they're buds.
Don't know why, but Miller seems so big in these. She's got on one of Wilson's old t-shirts the easiest thing to get over the cast and long enough to cover your bum when you don't feel like wearing a diaper!
The morning after her first night with the cast, I caught Miller trying to climb out of her bed again. So Daddy went that night and bought her big girl bed. Every single morning she reminds us "I sleep in my gi-girl bed". So peaceful looking isn't she? Don't let it fool you- she's yet to make it through the night without coming downstairs and waking me up in the middle of the night. We have one more week with the cast and them I'm going to have to start laying down the law . . .
But this post is not about our dinner, my quest to cook healthy meals, or random product placements. No, it's about parenting through dinner time and the tactics we use to get our children to eat what we cook. I have never insisted on a clean plate, but I do insist that you try everything and are pleasant about it. No rude comments or faces. No spitting things out onto your plate. What I fix is what we're eating and unless you have an allergic reaction or your gag reflex is tested, no substitutions. For the most part my kids abide by the rules. A little reverse psychology is used on the toddler set to get them to eat enough to constitute a meal ("Don't you dare eat those beans. Those are Daddy's beans. Leave them right there on your plate for him. Whaaat! Miller!! Did you eat dad's beans." You get the idea) Tonight Wilson broke just about all the table rules when presented his plate of gourmet cuisine lovingly prepared by his mother. There was gagging, squinting of the eyes, noises from the throat, "ewww, this is disgusting". He's past the "don't you dare eat that" stage and frequently implements the tactic himself with his little sister to get his way. I'm a single parent tonight because Phil is at church teaching the youth guys so I was on my own to get the food down the hatch. Is it odd that this is the only thing I could think of to get Wilson to eat?
I thought one bling glued to the cast might help Miller's feelings a bit. I was wrong- 6 is the magic number!
Miss Priss decided Saturday that climbing out of her crib would be more fun than taking a nap. Well, it's certainly gotten her more attention than taking a nap. She fell and broke her arm. Fortunately Paw got us fixed up for the weekend and then we went in today to get an x-ray and an official diagnosis (which worked out well for Wilson- now he has something to take to school for the letter "X"). We go back in three weeks for a check up and to hopefully get rid of the "big sticker" as Miller calls is. "Iss kinda hard" she says. And maybe we'll go pick up a big girl mattress for the floor tonight!