Big Boys and Girls

I'm in birthday mode. Tomorrow, my big precious angel turns four. On Saturday, my not-so-big precious angel turns two. And I will be having nine preschoolers and six toddlers over on Sunday. You know, Sunday. The day for which scattered thunderstorms are being predicted. Not Monday, which will be sunny. Or Saturday, which is merely partly cloudy. But Sunday. Thunderstormy Sunday. Forty percent chance of precipiation Sunday (not that I'm compulsively checking weather.com. No, not me! Not at all!). With ten preschoolers (including Doodles) doing movement and seven toddlers doing art. First I angsted over the guest list--I have so many friends whose kids I wanted to invite, yet their kids and my kids really don't play together regularly anymore (mostly because of different preschool schedules), so I decided to cut anyone from the list that my kids don't see and play with on a regular basis. Then, I angsted over the cakes. Am I really making both a train cake and a pyramid cake? (You know the answer: Yes.) And now it's the weather. I don't care if it's cloudy. It can even be cold. It just can't be actually raining or thundering during the actual party. Everyone, please do your anti-rain dances now!

And right now I'm supposed to be wrapping Doodles's gifts (mostly used things, I'm happy to report--kid's still too young to know the difference), but I'm avoiding the issue by figuring out Facebook. I blame my friend Amy for getting me into it, but now I'm obsessed with the fact that I only have 10 friends and Adam has 117 friends. You people like me better, right? RIGHT?

Anyway, as my children grow, so do their conversational skills. Here are the things on the minds of my children now:

Doodles: So we're going to buy Pie a present?
Me: Yes. You need to pick out a gift to give to Pie on her birthday.
Doodles: And she'll give me a present too?
Me: Yes. Pie will give you a birthday present too.
[In store]
Doodles: Oh, I want my present from Pie to be that! And I want that! That looks good! Oh, I found what I want! I want that! And that. [repeat for a solid twenty minutes]
Me: Doodles, you are turning into one Greedy Gus. No more. I don't want to hear a single "I want" from you again!
Doodles: Okay. [three seconds later] Oh, I want that! That! That! Oh, I have to have that!
Me: Enough!!
Doodles: Okay. [pause] If you want, you can tell me what you want to get me for my birthday.


Doodles: When I grow up, can I be a bad guy?
Me: Sure you can be a bad guy. What does a bad guy do?
Doodles: He kicks and pushes.
Me: Oh. Okay.
Doodles: When I grow up, I want to be a bad guy and live in alibbya.
Me: You want to live in Olivia?
Doodles: No! Alibbya.
Me: You mean Libya?
Doodles: Yes! Alibya!
Me: Why do you want to live in Libya?
Doodles: Because that's where the bad guys live!
Me: Who told you that?
Doodles: You did!
Me: I did? When?
Doodles: A long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long time ago.
Me: Oh.
Doodles: So can I be a bad guy and live in alibya?
Me: I don't see why not.
[Note: Adam reminds me that a bunch of months back, Doodles and I were looking at a map to see where Egypt is. He asked if he could go to Egypt and I gave him my pat answer of, "Sure! As soon as you start eating energy food, we can go anywhere you like!" But then he pointed to Libya and said, "Can we go here, too?" to which I responded, "No." When pressed why, I apparently said, "A bad guy lives there."]

Doodles: We need two babies.
Me: We already have two babies.
Doodles: We do?
M: Yes. We have a Doodles Baby and a Pie Baby.
D: No, we need another little baby. We need Pie and one more.
M: Why do we need another baby?
D: So I can take care of her.
M: What will you do to take care of her?
D: I'll sit her in my lap and sing to her.
M: You can do that with Pie.
D: No I can't. She's too big and she won't sit still.
M: That is true.
D: So we need two babies. I'll take care of the new baby and you take care of the old baby.
M: Who's the old baby?
D: [exasperated] Pie!
M: Oh. Is the new baby a boy or a girl.
D: A boy. And we're going to name him Pie, too. He'll be Baby Pie.
M: Sweetie, Mommy's all done having babies. But when you grow up, you can have a baby of your own to take care of.
D: I'll never have a baby of my own.
M: Why not?
D: Because the mommy I marry won't want to have any.

M: Pie, do you think maybe it's time to give up the Ming Ming?
P: Yes.
M: You have a birthday this week!
P: Yes!
M: How old are you going to be?
P: Two and a half!
M: Actually, two. And two is a big girl! Big girls don't need Ming Ming!
P: Don't need it.
M: We could cuddle instead. Or if you're hungry, you could have something to eat. Like a cheese stick.
P: Cheese stick?!
M: Yes! A cheese stick!
P: I want cheese stick.
M: Okay, sweetie, I'll get you one.
P: Cheese stick. After Ming Ming. Cheese stick.
M: Sweetie, let's say, Bye bye Ming Ming!
P: Bye, bye Ming Ming!
M: All done, Ming Ming!
P: All done, Ming Ming!
M: Okay, sweetie, let's get a snack.
P: Momma?
M: Yes, Pie?
P: Momma?
M: Yes?
P: Ming Ming! Peeeeeeeaase! Ming Ming now!

All right, off to wrap presents, pack goody bags, make a shopping list.... So tired. And the party isn't for another four days. Better go check the weather report again....