The Power Within

My children love each other. I know they do. However, to the untrained eye it might not appear this way. They can fight at the drop of the hat. Ren gets very easily perturbed by John-Heath (who can be quite the annoyance to a big sister who is a teenager) and sometimes will say things for which she later apologizes. Of course, John-Heath rarely needs one to step in to defend him. He manages quite nicely on his own - verbally or physically. Sometimes a little too physically. At any rate I doubt he will get bullied at school. Which is a good thing.

This weekend, Ren was trying to tell us all the details of seeing the new Nightmare on Elm Street movie with some friends. John-Heath was trying, at the same time, to tell us something, anything. He just likes to talk. I can't hold that against him though, as I have a whole list of former teachers who would back me up when I say he gets it genetically. Anyway, at some point Ren says to him, "Sometimes I wish you'd just stop breathing." (This would be a case of her saying something without thinking it through and then later feeling bad that it came out that way). John-Heath's reply was "Uh, Ren! I can't help it. God made me and He put that power in me." I thought that was pretty cute. It's nice to know that even children as young as four know their very breath is a precious gift from God.


A mini-moment...John, John-Heath, and I went out to eat this weekend. While John was paying John-Heath and I excused ourselves and went and waited in the little breezeway between the sets of doors. It was pouring down rain and I told John-Heath that it was raining cats and dogs. After explaining to him what that meant he thought he would announce it to everyone entering or exiting the restaurant, "Sure is raining cats and dogs, huh?".

Let's Play a Game, Shall We?

It's called "How many questions can be asked between Rock Bridge Road and Henry Harris Road?". Let me warn you first that you must play with my son present. He will be a passenger in your car. Let me further warn you that, should you decide to compete with him head-to-head, you will lose. And I'm not talking about losing by only a little so that you still feel pretty good about your performance. I'm talking annihilation.

You see, my son is the prince of questions. I would say king but he's only 4, so he can't be a king until he's at least in his twenties, or longer if he's like the Prince Charles of question asking.

On a recent drive home from visiting my parents he managed to fill, pretty much, all 13.8 miles with questions. This was after losing the privilege to eat a candy bar bought just an hour earlier at Wal-mart because of his inability to not talk.

Wal-mart parking lot...
"John-Heath, if you say one more word you will NOT get to eat your candy bar and we won't stop to see Ma-Ma and Pa Gene. I mean it!!! NOT ONE MORE WORD!!! Nod if you understand mommy."

1.5 miles up the road...
"Look! A train."

Adios, Hershey's. I did give in on the not stopping to see Ma-Ma and Pa Gene thing though. He loves them like crazy. Besides, we had to stop and pick up Ren.

After a visit with the grands we headed home. This time with Ren in tow, as well. Thus it began...

John-Heath:
Why do these people have houses beside Pa Gene's?
Why is there a gas station here?
Will we come back tomorrow?
Is tomorrow a church day, school day, soccer day or stay-at-home day?
Why is there a bus parked in that yard?
Do you drive a bus?
Why don't you drive a bus?
If you had a special license would you drive a bus?
Do those people at your school have a special license?
Why do they park those buses at your school?

Ren:
John-Heath, shhuut uup!

John-Heath:
Ren told me to shut-up.
Are you going to spank her when we get home?
Can I watch Alvin and the Chipmunks when we get home?
Mommy, do you want to watch it with me?
Ren, do you want to watch it with me?
Who let the dogs out? Who? Who-who?
Ren, say "who let the dogs out."

Ren:
No.

John-Heath:
Why not?

Ren:
Because I'm not an idiot.

John-Heath:
Ren called me an idiot.

Ren:

You're a psycho, John-Heath.

John-Heath:
I not psycho.
What's a psycho?


According to Rand McNally's website it should take approximately 23 minutes to drive the distance between my parent's home and mine. I feel certain that Mr. Rand and Mr. McNally were both childless.