Cowgirl and the loose tooth

Ivy had this loose tooth that she had been wiggling for days, much to my dismay. See, I hate loose teeth. I can't stand to watch them being wiggled. I don't like to think about them being pulled.   I never pulled my own teeth ...and I tried to hide them from my dad so he wouldn't pull them. There's NO WAY I would ever be able to pull someones tooth.

But, I have a kid losing teeth at an alarming rate.  A friend of the family pulled her first tooth. Her teachers have pulled many more of them. Her dad pulled one. One just fell out.  I have had nothing to do with any of them.

The tooth in question had been pulled on by many, including Ivy, but of course not me.  She walked through Wal-mart wiggling it. Played on the swing set wiggling it. Laid in bed wiggling it.

Then, as I am making the bed yesterday, I hear a scream, a cry, a thud, and an undecipherable exclamation....something like "Fye Foooo!!! Aye looooffff id!"

I ran out into the hallway and was immediately confronted by Ivy, blood dripping down her chin. "Fye Foof!" she exclaimed. "Fye foof es gone!!!!"  I ushered her into the bathroom, gave her a cup, and told her to start rinsing.

But not all the noise was coming from Ivy. Story stood in the door of the playroom sobbing, large tears falling from her eyes down onto her cheeks. "What's wrong??" I asked. "Ivy is fine! She just lost her tooth!"

"I know!!!!" Story wailed. "I made her tooth fall out!!!!" And with that sentence, she wailed even louder.

"What happened???" I asked, but inconsolable Story couldn't tell me.  A non-bleeding but still-hard-to-understand Ivy filled in the blanks.

Story had decided that she wanted to be a cowgirl.  And that Ivy was going to be her horse. All good horses have reins, though, and this issue was remedied by a jump rope placed in Ivy's teeth. Story mounted, grabbed hold of her reins, and pulled...and suddenly Ivy didn't have a tooth anymore.

Story was still crying, but I managed to calm her down and explain that she kind of did a good thing...of course, jump ropes in mouths were bad, and it could have been a permanent tooth, but all that aside, she didn't need to cry anymore.

Five minutes later, I found the tooth. It had been flung 15 feet into the next room. If I had been a forensic pathologist, I could have determined that something much more dangerous happened with the jump rope to fling the tooth that far, but lucky for Ivy and Story, I'm just a music teacher.

Ivy Teaches Story About Digestion

Often, Ivy feels the need to instruct Story on the ways of the world. While eating pizza in the back seat, Ivy decided to teach Story about a process called "indigeshun."

IVY: Story, did you know that this pizza will turn to poop in your body?

STORY: what??

IVY: it's called indigeshun. You chew the pizza and it is in your mouth.

STORY: I don't have poop in my mouth.

IVY: no! Listen! Then it goes in your throat.

STORY: I have poop in my throat?

IVY: No! Your throat goes to your tummy. And the food goes to your tummy. And then it goes into....mommy?

ME: yes?

IVY: what's that tube after your tummy called?

ME: the intestine?

IVY: yes, Story, the food goes to your small testine.

STORY: I have a test?

IVY: No! TESTINE! Then it goes to your big testine.

STORY: how big is my testine?

IVY: And then it goes to the toilet.

STORY: I don't put food in the toilet. That's where the poop goes.

IVY: No, Story, it's poop then!

STORY: but when is the food poop?

As much as I was enjoying this science lesson, Ivy started to tell her the whole process AGAIN and I changed the subject.

And only Ivy could continue eating her pizza at this point.

Fashionistas!

I know, I've been absent. It's been very busy...research papers due, band concerts, band trips, moving...

But moving to a new house has given my children a new freedom- going outside. It's not that they couldn't play outside before, but I always had to go with them (no fence and a million strange men driving by on golf carts)...and I'm a lazy and bad mom. I'd much rather do laundry than sit outside with my kids, a choice they could never fathom: Why do we need clean clothes??

In our new house, though, we have a totally fenced in yard with many windows overlooking it. They can go outside together without telling me. How exciting is that?? In the few months they've been doing this, I've noticed a rather alarming trend. Instead of wearing shorts and a t-shirt outside (comfortable clothes that they can get dirty), they dress up to play like they're going to the preschool prom!

What are the rules of dress for outside play according to Ivy and Story? Skirts. Always skirts. Or dresses. And it seems as though the less the articles of clothing match, the better.

If I didn't force them to wear tennis shoes or sandals, they'd be riding their bikes in cream colored patent leather heels or 3 inch wedge sandals. In this picture, Story has mixed a selection of Ivy's clothing together with her own flip flops (Mommy's suggestion). And Ivy is bedecked in her former clothes that are now Story's. I guess I should applaud them for sharing??

Bathing suits and printed tights also acceptable. Christmas dresses and snow boots equal outdoor fashion awesomeness.

Princess ball gowns over Spongebob pajamas...look for it in the fall on runways everywhere.

And the number one rule of play fashion?? ANY T-shirt Mommy forces you to wear can be instantly made acceptable by the addition of a too-short gauzy tutu.


I often beg for them to just wear some normal playclothes, and to limit their outfit changing to once a day, requests that are ignored and laughed at. Every day, especially in the summer, is a fight to express themselves through clothing!

For Mother's Day, my present from them was that they "would wear anything that Mommy wanted them to all day, without crying about it." It was a nice gesture.

If I don't post again for a couple of months, you'll know it's because I'm too busy laundering tights and bathing suits and tutus.

The White Pants Dilemma

In my closet, there are lots of pants. Some are too big. Some are too small. Some are just right. (Yes, I have three bears living in my closet.)

And one pair, one very special pair, is white. White. Very white. And they have never ever been worn!!

I'm not sure why I keep them in there. They do fit. And I tell myself all the time that I will wear them...soon! In winter, I say, "Oh, I'll wear them when it gets warm!" In summer, I tell myself, "I'll save them for wearing at school!" For the past two years I've been lying to myself in this manner, because I will never ever ever be able to wear them.

Why, you ask? Because I am clumsy. And staining substances are magnetically attracted to whatever I happen to have on my body. If I wear a white shirt, you can be sure I'll get some permanent black marker on it. A black shirt? Bleach will find me. Colors? Butter, grease, grape juice....you name it, if it's un-removeable, it will appear. My closet is filled with pretty clothes I can't stand to part with, but I can't ever wear in public again.

I'm especially good at sitting on something staining, too, but not realizing it. When I get home at night and find I have a big black mark on the seat of my pants, I marvel at the number of people I'd passed during the day who couldn't pull me aside and say, "Hey, you got a big mark on your butt." (So if you happen to see that I do, please tell me! I promise not to say, "What are you doing looking at my butt????")

I stalk white pants wearers sometimes. Some people wear them effortlessly, going through an entire day in a public school without a single mark or blemish. By 8:07, I probably would have gotten dry erase marker on the left leg and coffee on the right. I should get rid of the pants, right??

Of course, I don't know this for sure, seeing as how I've never worn white pants. So, it's quite possible that I could be one of those white pants wearers, if I was very very careful. And if I carried a Tide-to-go pen with me. And a towel to sit on. And a force field to keep those little kids from hugging me.

Which is why I will probably keep them in my closet...at least until summer. When I wear them. They are definitely summer pants...and it's winter.