Boston Dawn

A couple weekends ago, Ryan and Hunter were in Montana visiting family and Willow was at Grandma’s house in Idaho; so it was just the three of us left at home. It should have been a nice quiet weekend, but Mercedez and Boston are so similar in personality, and Boston has finally hit her breaking point. She is tired of being the littlest and picked on my the other two. She feels ganged up on sometimes and retaliates in devious ways…

Sunday morning was not so bad. There was a little bickering going back and forth, but church was starting soon and we’d all showered and were getting ready. As I was finishing up my makeup, I sent them to get their Sunday shoes on. Not 30 seconds after they leave I hear:

Boston: “Mom,Mercedez called me stupid!”
Mercedez: “I did not!!”
Boston: “Mom,Mercedez said I was ugly!”
Mercedez: “No I didn’t!!”
Boston: “Mom, Mercedez called me a baby!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I hustled over to the stairs where they were putting on their shoes, and determined not to let it continue or ruin the Sunday mood, I lit into them. (*Disclaimer: I’m not much of a yeller, but this was one of those days.)

“Stop! I can’t handle any more fighting!” I yelled.
“But…” Mercedez interrupted.
“Uh, uh. No.” I stopped her. “I don’t want to hear any more! It’s Sunday. I’m going to go back to my bathroom and finish getting ready. I want you two to finish getting your shoes on and we’re going to start over. I don’t want to talk about it or hear any more arguing.”
“But…” Mercedez tried again.
“Nope.” I cut her off. “I’m going to be happy today and when you guys come back in the bathroom, I want your happy faces on and we’ll go to church and we’ll all be happy.”

I left thinking I’d diffused the situation and hopefully the rest of the day (well at least until we got to church) would be *happy* like I said. The girls came back into my bathroom shortly after and as usual, Mercedez wanted to talk about *it*. At first I reminded her that it was over and I didn’t want to hear about it, however, I was prompted to listen. She filled me in on what I didn’t hear:

Boston would whisper: ”Mercedez, you’re stupid.“ Then yell: “Mom,Mercedez called me stupid!”
Mercedez: “I did not!!”
Boston: “Mercedez, you’re ugly. Mom,Mercedez said I was ugly!”
Mercedez: “No I didn’t!!”
Boston: “Mercedez, you’re a baby. Mom, Mercedez called me a baby!”

I was glad that I’d listened to the prompting and gotten the real story, but I wasn’t sure what to believe. Mercedez usually tells the truth, but could my precious little five year old, my darling, pixie, Boston really be so devious?

I asked her straight forth, “Boston, is that true? Did you do that?”

The look on her face, with her crooked smile trying not to give away her, yet somewhat pleased by her craftiness, said it all. But I was shocked when she admitted a sheepish, “Yes.”

Boston in in Idaho this week with Grandma and Grandpa. The kids have a week off for fall break. Since she is five now and can fly unattended, I her to her the airport on Saturday and dropped her off at the gate. She was so excited. The flight attended asked her if she wanted to hug me good-bye. “I did,” she said.

She’d been talking about flying by herself since her birthday. It seems to be a right of passage at our house. My mom called after they picked her up. She said that several people got off the plane before Boston and they all said something like, :Are you the grandparents of that little girl? She was so good.” Or, “We heard that you have a cute baby horse and she gets to name it.” Evidently she did great!

My mom and dad took her down to the barn to sen the baby horse. They called as soon as they got back from the “naming ceremony”. Boston said that she had the prefect name for her and that she thought of it all by herself. She named her Lily. My mom and dad both agreed that it was fitting and that the little paint looked like a lily, so Lily it is.

I miss my little traveler, but it sounds like she is having

a blast. She’ll be back on Friday.

After a squabble over something or other between Boston and Hunter I heard little feet pounding harshly up the stairs. Boston came into the kitchen were I was cleaning and said, “Mom, you should sale Hunter! She is a rude little girl!”

Trying not to laugh, I replied, “Who would I sale her to? Who would want to buy such rude little girl?”

“Maybe someone who doesn’t have any children.” She said, then went back downstairs.

The conversation was brief, but gave me a lot to think about. Could I really sale a rude little girl? Would anyone in their right mind want one?? It’s a good thing they are all cute and I’m in charge!

Our backyard is nicely landscaped with a variety of bushes including hibiscus and honey suckle, large granite rocks, green grass, and palm trees a plenty. Everything is in it’s place and nicely bordered with small gravely rocks- the bane of our existence. Since we moved here, we’ve battled these little rocks which inevitably find their way to the bottom of the swimming pool. As you can imagine, they are not kind to the pool filter and I can’t tell you how many handfuls of these little rocks have been scooped out of the pool and put back in their place…

Last summer, again we fished out rocks by the dozens and finally we threatened the girls with heaps of punishment if we found anymore rocks in the pool. Well, not a week had gone by before we yet again saw several piles of rocks resting in the deep end. Mercedez and Hunter swore up and down that they were innocent, that they were “old enough to know better, and would never do it again,” which left Boston.

We took her into our bathroom so we could have a little chat. The conversation went something like this:

“Boston, did you put rocks in the pool?”
“No, it wasn’t me.”
“I think it was you. You know better than that.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I think you are lying to me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re going to get in more trouble if you’re lying. I’m going to ask you again- Did you put rocks in the pool?”
“No.”
“I think you’re lying, I’m going to have to spank you.”
“Well, I think I didn’t do, it.”
“I think you did. Last chance to tell the truth. Did you put rocks in the pool?”

Pause-

“Well, did you see me?”

At this point, we took a chance…

“Yes. I saw you.”

Tears…

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again….”

This has given us many a laugh and on occasion when accusations fly, someone breaks out the “did you see me?” as a light-hearted attempt to escape the inevitable truth.

Boston and I were at the grocery store yesterday. She was helping me pick out fruit and said that she wanted a “yellow apple”. She kept saying yellow over and over and it sounded so strange. She was drawing out the yellllow. Then I realized that she saying it correctly. Then she said that she thought Willlllow would like a yellllow applllle too. Of course I made a big to do about her L’s and she was very happy.

She picked out a half dozen apples, then we talked about all the L words we could think of. She is such a cool kid. We had a great time hanging out all the time. She lets me sleep in in the mornings while she watches TV. She is a fanstaic helper and she loves to take Willow off my hands so I can get mom-things done.

(August 2005) 

All the girls have called their blanket “B”. Starting with Mercedez, they have all had a favorite. After Hunter’s tragic lost “b”, which I’ll soon document, I tried to introduce several blankets to Boston in hopes that she would have a few favorites. But alas, she found one that spoke to her and it became her one and only “b”.

One of the facts of life is that blankets that get drug around the house, through the dust, in the car, and almost everywhere else, it’s bound to get dirty (often). When this happens, a grievous event ensues; a bath for “b”.

Hence-

She was determined to sit there to whole cycle. I figured that she give up sooner or later. I thought for sure once boredom set in, she up and leave. But-

She waited and watched. Until-

It was just too much. But she was determined to stick it out!!

Talk about tuckered out!

I was in the shower this morning when Boston stumbled in. She was walking lop-sided and bumping into things.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m getting busy,” she replied as if it was obvious.

“What? How are you getting busy?” I asked again.

“Well, first, I spin around and around, and then I get ‘busy’!”

The girls have gotten pretty good at saying prayers by themselves. We try our best to rotate between the who gets to say food prayers and family prayers to make sure that everyone gets a turn often. Whenever it is Boston’s turn we all wait for the end, and without fail, Mercedez laughs every time. Instead of ending with the traditional, “We say these things…,” Boston always finishes her prayer with, “Mercedez things…. amen”. In the beginning, I think it started because she couldn’t enunciate the words properly, but then I think she just thought that  that is what we said. Anyhow, it makes for a happy ending to a sincere prayer.

This is all I’ve got for now (pathetic, I know). Someday I’ll get this updated. Until then, stay tuned.

Boston has a hard time saying “L”. We’ve practiced and practiced, but she still can’t quite do it. She says, “L-L-L wemon. L-L-L wucky.”

So, we don’t have winners and loosers at our house. We have “weiners” and “woosers.”

like = wike
little = widdow
Willow = Wih-woh
lime = wime
play = pway
flip flops = fwip fwops

Incidentally, we have lots of “wizards” in our back yard…