Raising Maine

Our Four Year Old rises each morning and asks me the same question: "Mommy am I five yet?" I have to disappoint her each day with, "No, sweet pea, not until next year."

She tells me each morning about her dreams, featuring draggon flies and rainbows which become stories as not unlike a children's book.

Listening to her is one of my favorite morning activities. My child like most kids is a sponge. My husband however learned that lesson quite harshly.

We have a bird feeder in the back where a chipmunk has been feasting with little birds in bright red, cobalt blue, and black, babies and larger birds alike hide appearing frightened of the chipmunk who has taken over our yard and has breakfast, lunch and dinner in the bird feeder evident in his expanding belly.

My husband said frustrated one day, "That GDmn Chipmunk is a pig. Look at his belly! He's eating all the birds' food." I was not present when the statement was made.

A day or two following that, H. was in pigtails and a pretty pink ballet dress when she spit out:

"Mommy, that G--d D--mn Chipmunk is a PIG. JUST LOOK AT HIS BELLY -- he's eating all the birdies food! Right mommy?" I dropped my laundry and said "Honey, don't talk that way." She said "BUT HE'S EATING ALL THE BIRD FOOD. JUST LOOK AT HIS BELLY!!!! Right Mommy?" I text messaged my husband her words and added saying "do you see the effect you have on her. Don't laugh!" He wrote back, "oops." Lesson learned.

Oh my!!!! Our little Sponges.