Abby Jo, to me, on the kids’ first day of school: “We’re going to miss our children, Mommy.”

Yes, indeed.

I asked Abby, “Do you know you’re pretty?”
Abby: “Yeah.”
Me: “How do you know?”
Abby: “I just jumped…and then I was pretty.”

Leaving Kroger, I opened a soda that I had just purchased, took a drink, and then passed it back to Kyra. She said, “Ugh. I don’t want this chewing gum anymore.”
“Well, I don’t want it.” I told her. “Find something to do with it.”

In a moment, I heard, “Thanks, Abby. I can always count on you. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve chewed it!”

Last night, we were eating at Red Robin, and I decided to have some meaningful conversation about church with our children.

I asked Elijah, “Lige, what is your favorite thing about church?”

Elijah thought for a minute and with an (almost) straight face, he said, “The part where they say ‘you are now dismissed’.”

A little snapshot from a day in the Harmon house:

Kids are eating snacks at the kitchen table, and I hear a scuffle, a yelp, and then Elijah quickly saying, “I’m sorry, Owen! Thank you for forgiving me!”

Owen quickly yelled back, “I DON’T FORGIVE YOU!”

I just laughed, and no one tattled. I guess they worked it out.

Warning: Gross content ahead.

Abby was having some, ahem, intestinal issues today while we were out and about, and I had to change her messy diapers twice just while we were eating lunch. We went to the library, and I was reading her a book. I heard and then smelled her latest attack of gastrointestinal distress, and she quickly confirmed it by saying, “Mommy, I pooped!”

I said, “I guess we’ll have to go out to the van and get a diaper so I can change you.”

Abby said, “No, Mama. I’ll just sit on my knees.”

When you’re reading a good book, it’s just so hard to stop!

Please to notice how my daughter just turned two the end of March. Also, can I call your attention to the full sentence that I quoted verbatim? In addition, I hope you are impressed that she not only can identify her knees, but she can refer to them appropriately and use the word in a sentence. She’s a genius child. That’s all I’m saying.

We have been going to my baby brother, Seth’s, highschool football games on Friday nights, and, this past Friday night, it was getting rather cold. To keep warm in the bleachers, I had Elijah sit in my lap. He was keeping me pretty toasty, so when Abby Jo wanted in my lap, too, I put her in Elijah’s lap. She was facing Elijah, with her legs around him. If you know Abby Jo at all, you know that her favorite person in the world is Elijah. Sitting in his lap this way, to her, meant she was in perfect hugging position. She was hugging and kissing her big brother, and quite enjoying it. He was putting up a bit of a resistance for appearance’s sake, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

My babies were just so completely precious that I wanted to get in on the affection. I laid the side of my face against Elijah’s head, and gave a little, “mmm, mmm, mmm!” while giving him a squeeze. Abby Jo looked at me with one of her classic dirty looks, and looked deep into my eyes. Perfectly expressing her displeasure with her scrunched up face, she very deliberately said, “Mine!”

I tried to argue. I told her that he was my baby, too. That I made him. That I GREW him in my body. But she did not care.

Flashing another dirty look, she reiterated, “Mine!” and gave her brother a kiss.

You gotta love an eighteen-month-old already firmly entrenched in the terrible twos.

After picking my friend, Cassi, up the other day, Kyra asked her why she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. She was trying to buckle it, but was having a hard time.

“That seatbelt is really jacked up.” I told her, as Chris ran a stop sign. “You just ran a stop sign!” I told him.

Chris said, “I always blow past it. I don’t see it, and forget it’s there.”

Cassi was still struggling with her seatbelt, and Chris said, “Don’t worry about it. I usually only blow through two or three stop signs, and we already passed one of them.”

To which Owen piped up and said, “It’s because we’re ninjas!”

“Cleaning is nothing but losing energy.” – Elijah

I let Elijah have the last bit of (flat) Diet Dr Pepper in the two liter bottle in the fridge…because I’m nice like that…and Kyra asked him for a sip of it. To which he responded by chugging the DDP with no intent of sharing.

Kyra: “Jesus doesn’t like what you’re doing, Elijah. You’re supposed to share.”

Elijah: <chug, chug, chug>

Kyra: “Elijah! Jesus really wants you to share with me.”

Elijah: <takes a deep breath to get a little oxygen after all the smug chugging> “Well, God doesn’t like you because you’re not doing your schoolwork!”

Kyra: “That doesn’t mean God doesn’t like me! He just doesn’t like that I’m not doing my schoolwork. He still wants me to have a drink of your diet dr pepper.”