The Little Brother He's Always Wanted

Quinn often mentions that he'd like a little brother. Not really so little. He'd like about a 4- or 5- year old brother, which in his mind is a way better playmate than a 3-year old sister. See, this boy is wise to adoption and knows that bringing children into your family as an infant isn't the only option. "Next time we adopt, mom," says Quinn, "let's get one that isn't so little....and a boy."

Anyway, we aren't on that path. Not now anyway. But it was Quinn's weekend to have his class' Flat Stanley. We had a laid-back weekend with FS, and "our" homework is to document this in the class notebook. When with other classmates, Stan has been to the Indianapolis Sailing Club and to a football game with a former Colt, among other glorious events. Here, it was pizza and watching The Tigger Movie. Do we go all out for Valentine's Day or what?

FS also went to Quinn's basketball game on Saturday morning (where Quinn finally scored his first basket!). Maybe little Stan is a bit of good luck. I'm sure Q would like to have him along for his next game. I know that from my standpoint, Stan was much easier to entertain in that little gym than K. He also doesn't whine, complain that he's hungry 20 minutes after not eating his lunch, and he never has to use the restroom when you are in the far reaches of the grocery store with a whole cartload of stuff.

Maybe Q is on to something. As far as little brothers go, FS is nearly perfect.

The Winds of Change

The winds of change are blowing here....or, at the least 50-MPH-blow-shingles-off-your-roof winds. But other change is brewing.

Remember the last post? Miss Getting Her Own Breakfast?

Well, she's now Miss Answer the Phone and Keep Track of the Household. In other words, I think she's gunning for my job!

A couple of days ago, I call the house as I'm on my way home (yes, on my cell, while driving, still legal here....oh come on, you know you do it, too!). This is my usual practice. The I'm-on-my-way-What-are-we-having-for-dinner phone call. The difference is that this time, Keira answers. At first I think that her dad must've handed her the phone so she could chat with me (our house phones are set with "special" rings for me, hubby, and grandma, so they know right off who is calling). But, as the conversation continues, I realize that nope - Keira found and answered the phone all on her own. Those of you who know me well (and therefore know my sense that I must control everything) realize the gravity of this: my 3-year old was on her own with a phone! The trouble that could come from this! I shudder at the thought! And, this part goes without saying: where is the supervising adult???

Anyway, not only does she answer, but she proceeds to tell me everything that is going on in the house (hence answering my unspoken question about the whereabouts of her father): Q playing his Nintendo DS, Daddy in the laundry room (he redeems himself!), and kitty downstairs. When I ask what she's doing, she simply replies, "Talkin' to you, momma."

Alrighty. Enough said. Not only are her organization skills impressive, but she answers truthfully and succinctly. Probably overqualified for politics, but some greatness awaits, I'm sure.