And in particular, kids are weird!

Librarian in a Basket.

Ok. So Sissy wanted to vote more than once when I took her to the polls. No big deal. Doesn’t make her a liberal, right? She’s only 3. She did not intend to commit fraud – and intent is a required element of the crime. But one day this week, I turned on PBS at approximately 6:45 p.m. and it was the Jim Lehrer Report. When I turned it off, do you know what Sissy did? She asked for more Lehrer! Coincidence?!? I certainly hope so.

Today, Baby Boy had his 6 months-old picture taken (at 7 months . . . I am always running late). He was such a handsome little man! They even called him Superman! Without any encouragement from me! This made me happy, for reasons previously provided.

He was so handsome! Who made that baby?!? (Okay, God made all things — but who did God make to make that Baby — yeah, that’s right: ME! I was the secondary means! Ain’t bad for a sinner, huh?). I anticipate modeling agencies contacting me shortly wanting to discuss his career. He has such a . . . Euro-nique look — just like his Daddy (who also received certain proposals for the aforesaid vocation). My men are SOOOOO CUTE!!!

In any event, he was precious, and Sissy even jumped in occasionally — but only when she was not expected. As soon as she was invited to get into the pic, she would oh-so politely say “Um . . . no tanks.” She is quite a little lady, but a little reserved, to say the least. I had to use a little trickeration to get her into the pic. For example, I asked her to fix Baby Boy’s hair. She gladly agreed and quickly and cheerfully went to Baby Boy, gently and lovingly stroked his light, fine hair with her petite hand, and then just as quickly, returned to her little seat by me. She has such a demure, solemn look and demeanor . . . it is truly striking. Absolutely beautiful.

Funny enough, they are both afraid of the same woman. She tries to be real friendly to them, to please them, to make them laugh, etc. But Sissy, at this age, recoils in fear as if encountering something evil and runs towards me. And Baby Boy’s little bottom lip just quivers and begins to swell into this huge protruding mass atop his chin, his eyes turn bright pink as the tears well up on the verge of rolling down his plump red cheeks, and he starts turning his head frantically looking for his mama. It’s just so sad! And so precious! And makes me so happy!

I finally understand the meaning of knowing something by heart. It means that this something is an integral part of you — it is dear to you. Seeing my 3-year old daughter sitting on our worn loveseat in her Sunday dress singing Psalm 4b by heart touched me in a way that few things can. Jesus loves her — and this she knows because the bible tells her so. It is as simple as that. And because of this knowledge, she loves to sing God’s praises. I even hear her singing Holy, Holy, Holy by heart to her little family as she puts Baby to bed. This truly is amazing grace.

I recently had the pleasure of attending a most wonderful tea party. The hostess, an exquisite young lady, welcomed me with such warm manners, including a lovely smile and affectionate hug as I arrived. She was dressed in her best – akin to a princess. She had a most magnificent table set. The table was draped with a beautiful hand-crocheted tablecloth, color of pumpkin, in the pattern of pineapple (which I believed to be very witty, in light of her hospitality). There was also a unique centerpiece containing bright orange and gold leaves that danced and sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight spilling through her window. It was a charming touch. And of course, she selected her best china for the occasion.

She served homemade pumpkin cookies (made from fresh pumpkins), which were delightful. She would not take “No, thank you” for an answer when I declined to have more than one. I reluctantly indulged in several. She also did a most unusual thing: instead of serving tea at her tea party (which, in my humble opinion, is so trite), she served the far superior and refined beverage of chocolate milk. That is when I discovered the depth of this young lady’s intellect.

Sissy loves to be a pimpess, a/k/a a princess. She thought every person she saw was a pimpess. So when Baby Boy came, we had to work with her for some time explaining that she is a princess because she is a girl and Baby Boy is a prince because he is a boy. She continued to call Baby Boy a pimpess, and we continued to remind her that he is a boy, so he is a prince.

Then one day she called Baby Boy a pimpess, and I asked her “Is Baby Boy a princess?” She, in a sing song voice, replied “Nooooooooo, Baby Boy’s a pimps!”

That’s better!?!

On Election Day 2004, my 3-year old daughter, Sissy (self-named after the arrival of Baby Boy, whose name she also assigned), and I went on a date: The Library, Chick-fil-A to eat and play, and the Polls. Nice balance of fun and education, don’t ya think?

Because we have electronic voting booths, Sissy made my selections and pushed the big button to submit my vote. She did such a good job - she was attentive, interested, and listening to and following my instructions very well. My civics lesson was succeeding! I was so proud of her being so responsible!

Then she asked to vote again.

I love Williams-Sonoma. I love anything from Williams-Sonoma — even spatulas. Consequently, you can imagine how delighted I was to receive their recent Holiday Catalog. I was browsing through the catalog, making a mental list of all the things I certainly needed, when I came to the holiday foods. I was admiring a big bowl filled with delicious chocolate treats, when I heard, “Ew, Mama! Poo-Poo!” I looked up to see my three-year old daughter’s brow furrowed as she looked at the previously enticing picture, apparently wondering why there were Poo-Poo’s in a big bowl.