Capitalism and Unclothed Catnaps...

There are a few things on my mind right now, primarily money and nudity. Most of those issues tend to be rather controversial and polarizing, so fair warning :)


The Horrors of (Toddler) Stripping

Picture of innocence, right?

To continue with my day, I arrived home to two out of my three children screaming at the top of their lungs. This is a normal occurrence. First I rescued Kiki from her baby prison and then quickly went to break Maya out of her toddler jail. She had been ominously screaming "Mommy, poo poo, owwie, I wanna get DOWN" repetitively and urgently so I figured that it was time to spring her. When I cautiously opened the door I was greeted by a pathetic scene. Maya was clinging to the bars of her crib, drool running down her face, chin and arms. Tears were pour copiously out of her little red eyes.

And she was stark naked.

Upon further questioning, she explained that she was "all wet mommy" and "diaper 'frew floor". All that came out of my mouth was a semi-hysterical gurgle. I was immediately torn between the desire to either laugh uncontrollably, shout in frustration or run and grab my camera to capture this priceless moment to share with her first boyfriend. Since I still had Kiki squirming and squawking in my arms, I managed to trample all the little bubbles of hysteria that were threatening to escape and gingerly tucked Maya under my free arm and carried both of them downstairs. I quickly threw a fresh diaper on Maya and put Kiki in her chair and ran upstairs to inspect the damage. With her natural propensity for trouble, Maya had not only managed to strip all of her clothes off, but she had thrown everything in arms reach all over the room. And then she wet the bed.

Priorities, priorities...

But I have recently subscribed to the "divide and conquer" method (hey, if it worked for Ancient Rome, then it definitely should work with three little kids right?) My immediate to do list presented itself. Maya was standing in the middle of the living room, hollering that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Kiki was in her chair, also screaming, because she was so hungry that her stomach lining must have been self digesting. And then there was all of the bed linens to change, Maya would need a bath, plus the neglected oldest child was also wasting away with hunger.  I attended to the starving child first, a fact which did nothing more but piss Maya off further. (How dare I leave her naked?) I informed her that she probably should have kept her clothes on in the first place and I would put her shirt on a minute. After the youngest and oldest needs were sufficiently met, I informed Maya that it was bath time. Unfortunately the kid loves bath time, and I feel like I may have positively reinforced the whole bedtime stripping act. (I take off clothes and pee my bed and then get a bath. Yay!) I sincerely hope this doesn't become a repeat performance, because I will not hesitate to pull out the duct tape. By which I mean I will duct tape the diaper, no, I will not duct tape her to the bed, even though that would also solve the clothes problem. Eventually everyone was fed, clothed, cleaned, changed, Lysol-ed and relatively happy. And I have yet another story to add to my arsenal of embarrassing Maya tales. Bring it on First Boyfriend!

Capitalism: they get 'em early

Lately Ellie has shown signs of actually being related to me. I say this with surprise because I apparently have not mastered the art of passing on my genes and my children don't look a thing like me. I'm half Japanese, so I'm of the black hair/dark eyes stock. All three of my children have dirty blond hair and blue eyes. I am routinely asked if I'm their stepmother or if I adopt (No ma'am, I was there. For ALL of it). Although my children look like they belong to someone else, every once in a while, I see a familiar bit of my personality or childhood quirks popping up. (Sleep walking anyone?)

My sisters and cousin's normal lemonade stand.

When I was a child, maybe 6 or 7, I decided that I just didn't have enough money. Now most children sell lemonade or Kool -aid or something a bit more conventional to make a bit of pocket change, but not I. I came up with an ingenious solution. People didn't want boring old Kool-Aid, it didn't last very long anyhow. I would sell... rocks! Rocks last forever! So I spent an afternoon picking up rocks in our backyard and then began my door to door campaign for more money, cup of rocks in hand. I distinctly remember knocking on my neighbor's door. Mrs. O'Brien was really a very lovely old lady who had patiently put up with my "visits" in the past. I explained that I was selling rocks and proudly displayed my stony wares. Believe it or not, the wonderful woman actually bought a rock, never mind the fact that her own yard was filled with the same unremarkable product that I was plying. Perhaps my rock bottom (ha!) price of one penny was just too good to pass up? All in all, I managed to wheedle several soft-hearted old ladies (and my mother) into buying my miraculous rocks. Capitalism at its finest.

Ellie has recently discovered that our backyard is full of acorns that are starting to sprout. They're actually rather cool to look at. After she pulled one or two of them up, I could literally see the little wheels in her little 6 year old mind turning, "Mom, do you want to buy an acorn?" I asked her how much they were and she replied, "Oh Mom, you can buy them for free". Clearly the concept of money, buying and selling hasn't taken root quite yet. We went on a walk in the neighborhood and every single person we met was told they could "buy an acorn for free". I'm hoping that this trend will catch on and Walmart will adopt this pricing policy.

The true selling point is the 6 year old charm

My little entrepreneur took an actual step in the business world today. She acquired a business partner (the little boy up the street), since they already had a compelling product (half sprouted acorns) all they were missing was a slogan and well, money. It turns out her business partner has a much better head for business than Ellie and after they harvested their crops, they began running up and down the street yelling:
Little Boy: ACORNS!
Ellie: FOR SALE!
Little Boy: ACORNS!
Ellie: Hey, you're going too fast!
Little Boy: Ok.. A...C...O...R...N...S.
Ellie: F..O..R  S..A..L..E.
They fixed their price at one for a quarter, or two for two quarters (quite a bargain). And after 30 minutes of pitching their sale, the kids had made $2.00. Color me impressed.

I tried really hard to think of nice tidy conclusion to this rather untidy blog. But try as I might, I can't figure out a single way to tie in confession, my daughter's nap time stripping act and Acorns for Sale. So I give up, draw your own conclusions :)