Tuesday, August 30, 2011

No Babysitter's Club For Her

Last Friday was Sonya's Family Picnic at school.  This is something we always look forward to every year, and this year even more, because the In-N-Out truck was going to be there.  Then the heat wave came and it was 100 million degrees on Friday.  I was not about to miss that Family Picnic, because dammit we had pre-paid tickets for burgers at the In-N-Out truck.  It was later in the day, and we didn't get there until almost 5:30 and I would like to say that meant it started cooling off, but it did not.  According to the temperature gauge in my car it was 105.  At 5 PM.  PM meaning evening.  That was sooo NOT okay.  Still...In-N-Out.  For those of you who don't know about or haven't had In-N-Out, I'm sorry.  (This blog is not being sponsored by them, I swear.  Well, at least I don't think so.  Maybe check the ads.  It's purely coincidence if they have an ad there.)

Back to the picnic!  So we get there and the line of the truck is, of course, forever long in the 100 degree heat and sun.  I immediately go stand in it, because we were all hungry and I knew it would better to just get it over with.  I didn't, however, feel like listening to three kids whine and complain about how hot it was, or when we were going to be done standing in line.  You have to keep in mind that I don't have a husband with a 9-5 job, so he tends to miss these kinds of things.  He has actually made the picnic the past two years, but this year he works for a new company, that is actually busy.  Good and bad.  Good because he will have a job for a while, but bad, because I have to go to things like this solo now.  Oh well!  I like to eat, wear clothes and have a roof over my head, so I accept it. 

 Anyway, I gave each of the girls a dollar and told them to go get something from the bake sale table.  I could see it from where I was standing.  I made sure to let everyone know that Sonya was in charge and they should stay with her.  In turn, I reminded her to keep an eye on them.  I wasn't really concerned because, after two years, I know or recognize the other parents and kids at the school.  Plus we were on the playground of the school, which is completely enclosed and they knew where to find me.  I was going to be in that line for a while.  So they went to get their treats, but came back pretty quickly.  Since I knew I had at least another 15 minutes to go and that their little patience wouldn't last that long, I gave Sonya the pink bedsheet I had brought for us to sit and eat on.  I told her to go lay it out on the grassy area.  There were cheerleaders from the middle school entertaining the people sitting on the grass, and I thought they would like that.  Again, I reminded everyone to stay with Sonya and for Sonya to watch them.  I figured, she's six, almost seven.  That's babysitting age in some parts of the country, right?  I'm pretty sure in West Virginia the babysitting age is at least 6, maybe even 5.  I could see the grassy area from where I was too, so don't get all worried.  But like I said I know the school, and the people, so I wasn't too concerned.  Not as concerned as I was when this happened two years ago.

I finally made it to the front of the line and placed my order.  As I was standing there with the stroller, waiting for my number to be called, I thought I heard I heard them say something familiar on the microphone at the front of the playground.  They were playing music and making announcements, and then I heard this,

"We have Georgia up here."

Wait-did I just hear them say Georgia?

"Georgia is looking for her mother.  Could Georgia's mother please come up here."

Yup, they said Georgia.  But there could be another Georgia looking for her mom right?  Yeah, not likely.  One of the reasons we gave my girls their names, is because they're not popular overused names.  It's not like they were looking for the mom of Emma or Lilly.  I looked up to where the announcement was being made and sure enough there is Georgia being held by one of the moms I recognize from PTA.  Then I look over at my pink sheet in the grass and see Sonya and Lana sitting there unfazed.  I walk to the front and take Georgia, who is not crying or upset mind you, just looking for me.

"Why aren't you with sissy?  You were supposed to stay with her,"  I said.

"I was yooking for you," she explained.

I carry her back over to the In-N-Out truck to wait for our food and I give her a drink.  Then Lana came over to me standing in line, wondering what was taking so long.  I give her a drink too, and send them back over to the pink sheet, where Sonya was paying no attention to the fact that now BOTH of her sisters were gone.

I finally got my food and headed over to the grassy area.  I handed out burgers and chips to everyone, and we all started enjoying our meal.  About halfway through, Sonya said to me,

"It was so funny, because when you were waiting for the food before, I heard them saying that a girl named Georgia was looking for her mom!  Just like my sister's name is Georgia!  Isn't that funny?"

"Sonya," I calmly said to her, "that WAS your sister."

"It was?" She asked.

"Yes," I said.  "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her, remember?"

"Oh, I thought she was with you," was the only response she gave me.

Sooooo, I guess she's not quite ready for the babysitting responsibilities yet. Well, it's a good thing I found out now, because Andy and I were all set to leave them alone next Saturday night.   

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Proving She May Become A Doctor, Midwife, or Doula

A few months back the little girls' gymnastics teacher, Teacher Danielle, had to stop teaching gymnastics.  She had found out she was pregnant with her second babies.  Yes, babies.  She was having twins, which came as a complete shock to everyone, especially her, because unlike most twins born these days, hers were not due to fertility drugs.  No, she got twins the old fashion way!  Purely by chance. The first thing the Doctor told her to do was stop teaching gymnastics.  My girls were disappointed when they were assigned new teachers, because they have been taking gymnastics from Danielle since they were babies.  When I told them the reason for it, they were excited at the prospect of not one but two babies.  Of course they wanted to see them right now, so we had to have that conversation.  They kinda got it after a while, when Danielle's belly started to take on a life of it's own.  

Every week we would see her at gymnastics, sitting behind the desk, bigger than the week before.  The girls would question when they were going to get to see the babies. Could we see them now?  Were they going to be out soon?  When would they be out so they could see them?  I kept telling them, not for a while. 

I felt bad for poor Danielle.  She looked so uncomfortable.  She was past that point every woman gets to those last couple weeks of their pregnancy.  The point where you feel like if you sit down, you might not be able to get up again.  Where you feel like you are waddling around, rather than walking.  She was about five times that, and she wasn't due for another two months.  I couldn't imagine carrying that much baby around in my belly at one time.  

The babies weren't due until the end of September, but as with most twins, they came a little early.  Last Monday when I took Sony to gymnastics Teacher Danielle wasn't there, but the other instructors informed me that she was still pregnant, just had to stop working altogether.  By the time I went in on Friday morning, however, Teacher Alex(Sonya's teacher since she was 2) told me she had them that Tuesday.  She had delivered two little girls via C-Section  and they were healthy at about four pounds (!) each and doing well.  I was so happy for her, and couldn't wait until the girls were done with their lesson for the day so I could give them the good news.  

Lana was the first to finish and come over to me.  

"Guess what Lana!?" I said excitedly to her.

"What?" She asked, mimicking my excitement.

"Teacher Danielle had her babies!" 

Her face fell, she furrowed her brow, frowned, looked up at me and said, 

"AWWWWWW!!!!  I wanted to see them come OUT!"

Ummm...Yes...well.  Sorry about that Lana.  Maybe next time.

Congratulations to Teacher Danielle on her TWO new bundles of joy.  Get ready for everyone to make this statement to you:

"Oh my!  You have YOUR hands full!"  

It will get annoying by the fourth time you hear it.  Good luck!  

Monday, August 22, 2011

The Art Of Makeup

On Sonya's first day back to school last week, I was feeling a bit relaxed in the morning.  She was starting to become a little crazy toward the end of the summer and needed to get back to her routine. Honestly, I was happy to only have the two younger girls to take care of for a few hours. Plus, with Sonya gone there was less fighting.  So, I was feeling pretty generous when Lana came to me with the bag of play makeup and asked if they could put it on.  

Now, my first thought when the girls ask this is always, "Oh God!  Not the makeup!" But then I said-"Eh-why the hell not?"  We weren't going anywhere for a while, so I let them have at it.  After putting it on, Lana showed me her handiwork and I have to say, I think she may have inherited my mother-in-law's makeup gene.  My mother-in-law, Julia, is rarely without her "face" on. Once she even put on lipstick to go for a walk around my block.  In Burbank.   However, she does an impeccable job with her makeup and always looks flawless.  Perhaps when she was four if she would have played with makeup, this is how it would have turned out.   

Subtle, yet still noticeable.  Not bad, huh? Not to mention she colored in the lines, so to speak.

Georgia on the other hand....Well, Georgia looked like I used to in college after a night of heavy drinking. You know what I mean- the times when you pass out before you have a chance to wash off all your party makeup?  Yeah, I think my mother-in-law's makeup gene may have skipped her. 

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Sister Mom

One day last week, I was in my bathroom doing what my girls will never let me do in peace.  The girls were in the living room playing... then fighting... then screaming...then crying.  I couldn't really do anything, so I ignored it, which is kinda good sometimes.  It lets them work things out on their own.  As long as they aren't on fire.  Well even then- learn how to operate the fire extinguisher girls!  What?  It's a good lesson!  

Anyway-Georgia was the one screaming and crying, which is not unusual.  She is the drama queen among the drama queens in this family.  If someone gives her a slight tap on the shoulder and she sees it as an assault, she will throw herself into a fit of tearless crying for at least four minutes.  Or until I put The Backyardigans on TV. 

So first I hear a scuffle, Lana's saying something her mad voice, then Georgia crying.  After this I heard Sonya take over the mom role and try to talk to her and calm her down.   Which she did.  One less problem I have to deal with!  The next thing I see is Georgia walk into my room, past my bathroom, and into my closet.  A minute later she walks by the bathroom again, carrying the bucket o'change Andy and I have on our dresser.  I think everyone has one of those.  It's the place you throw all of your loose change.  After a while you count it and roll it and have a nice meal out.  Sometimes, the girls will take it off our dresser and play with the change inside.  I'm not so fond of them doing this, because it makes a mess that I don't feel like dealing with.  Secondly, change tends to be really dirty, so it kinda grosses me out when I see them playing with it then sucking their thumb right after ward.  It's not like "wash hands after playing with loose change" is on the top for their list of things to do.  

So as she's walking by with the change bucket I say,

"Hey! Hey!  Wait Georgia!"

She stopped and looked at me, change bucket in her hands, "What mommy?"

"What are you doing with that?" I asked.

"Sissy gonna give me a qwa-twa (quarter) because Lana hit me," she explained.

"Wait.. what?" I asked.

"Sissy give me a qwa-twa cause Lana hit me," she told me again.

"SOOONNYYYAAA!" I yelled.  Then I instructed Georgia to hand over the change, and told her she didn't get money just because Lana hit her.  Maybe if she wants to be a boxer someday, she can be paid to be hit, but not today and not in our house.  

Sonya came running back to my room. 

"Yes, mommy?" She said.

"You're giving Georgia a quarter because Lana hit her?" I questioned.  

Then she proceeded to tell me that she was giving Georgia a quarter, because she and Lana were fighting and then G started to cry.  Sonya was trying to figure out what happened between the two, and Lana wouldn't tell her.   This usually a sign of guilt when Lana won't speak.  If Georgia is crying and she didn't do it, she is the first to inform you that she didn't.  Otherwise she ignores you.  So Sonya told them that whoever told her the truth would get a quarter.  No need for me to discipline them anymore, I have Sonya!  While I've never paid them to tell me things, I have rewarded them with hugs and praise for telling me the truth when I've asked, even if they did something bad.  Quarters I save for chores.  Sonya just combined the two.  Not a bad idea, but I'd rather she not take over for me.  Well, sometimes I would but then I'd REALLY have a hard time getting anyone to listen and take me seriously.  

She and I had a short conversation then about how, as much as I appreciated her trying to help, she wasn't allowed to give out money, or punishments.  That is my and Daddy's job.  She understood.  For now.  It's not the first time we've had this similar conversation and I know it won't be the last.  She loves being in charge of them, and having some kind of power when I'm not around.  I can't say I don't relate.  After all, I am the oldest of three girls as well.  I remember many times trying to take on my mom's role with my sisters when she wasn't around.  I'm pretty sure I got a similar lecture. 

Ah history!  How you do love to repeat yourself!  Thanks for showing me the other side. Sorry Mom...  And Beth...  And Megan.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Rain, Rain Go Away, I Have To Go To School Today

Over the weekend I was filling out paperwork for Sonya to go back to school.  I was also reading some of the handbook and other  information that came with everything I had to fill out.  While I was reading through it I came across this little tidbit of information.

Did you all know THIS!?  They are supposed to go to school on RAINY DAYS?! 

OK.  Look.  Here's the thing.  I know we live in "sunny" Southern California, and no we don't get a lot of rain, but we do have a season where it does gets rainy here.  It's also known as our winter.  I grew up mostly on the East Coast and not once would I have ever thought I wasn't going to school because of a few raindrops.  Unless, they turned into freezing raindrops or came with high winds, and had a name to them, like Irene or Andrew.  No, I had many a rainy school day and it was just a school day.  We might not have had recess, but we still had to go to class. 

I guess what bothers me most about this little of blurb of information, is that they felt they HAD to inform parents about this policy.  Which means at some point in time, there were parents who thought their kids didn't have school because it was RAINING.  Come on parents!  Can you at least pretend that you're smarter than your first grader.  I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised though.  We are talking about a part of the country where, when it does rain more than an inch, the news people start talking about "Storm Watch 20__(fill in the year here)."  I'm not kidding.  They do this for a simple rain storm.  

Sometimes I do miss the slightly less crazy people on the east coast.  

Monday, August 15, 2011

Fixing a Hole Where the Sugar Gets In

Sonya is an unusual child because she loves going to the dentist.  I mean LOVES going to the dentist, since the first time she went.  Whenever I make an appointment for a checkup and I tell her about it, her reaction is almost the same as when I tell her we are going to Disneyland.  She even decided a couple of years ago that being a "kid" dentist is what she wants to be when she grows up.  Along with being an artist and a mom.  It's quite the balance of both sides of her brain. Then on our last trip to visit Dr.  Willens, we received bad news.  I feared Sonya's dental dreams would die right there in the dentist's chair.  She had two cavities.

Now, let me first start by saying how shocked I was by this news.  I never had cavities myself until my late teens, and even then they weren't big ones.  The girls brush twice a day, and yes they all have a sweet tooth, but I'm not feeding them straight sugar for every meal.  I just didn't get it.  I even make them brush their teeth before we leave to go home from Disneyland!  How did this happen?

I actually didn't find out about the cavities until after we left the checkup.  He called me later on in the day, because he hadn't checked her x-rays while we were there. After we left, he looked and them and found the decay.  They were in between the back molars.  Flossing is what would keep those cavities from forming, and as good as I am about them brushing, I am horrible about them flossing.  Partly because their teeth were far apart for so long and they didn't need it.  I guess Sonya does now.  Well, the good news is, it wasn't bad enough to see during a checkup.  The bad news was they still needed filled.  And she needed Novocaine. That they give with a needle.  Into the mouth.  Have I mentioned how much my daughter hates shots?

I was upset at this news, because I was so worried that now not only would Sonya not want to be a dentist anymore, but she would hate going to the dentist.  I myself didn't have Novocaine for the first time until this past October.  That needle in the gum thing hurts like a bitch!  I'm pretty sure I would opt for an epidural again instead of needle in the gum, so yeah I was worried about Sonya.  However, Dr. Willens assured me that they do everything they can to make it a least painful process as possible.

Last Thursday morning, our awesome neighbor Victor, came over to watch the other two girls while Andy and I took Sonya to the dentist.  The last thing I needed were the Wonder Twins running around, or seeing what was going on with Sonya.  Then I wouldn't get anyone to the dentist ever again.

When we arrived at the appointment, they gave Sonya a liquid antihistamine to drink.  It tasted like bubble gum and she got to pick a prize afterward.  So far, not so bad.  The point of this was to dry out her mouth and make her a bit sleepy.  We waited a half hour for this to take effect. Then we were led back to the "cavity room" in the office.  She lied on the chair and they put a nose mask on her that she was to breathe in and out of.  First she was breathing oxygen and then nitrous oxide.  This helped to numb and relax her further.  I held her hand as she sat in the chair waiting for the dentist to come in.  Even though it was just having a cavity filled I was scared for her, knowing how scared she was.  She looked so little sitting there, and I started to have flashbacks of her as a baby and a toddler.  Now here she was almost seven years old, looking so big and so little to me at the same time.  Half of me wanted to scoop her up and take her out of there so the dentist couldn't harm her, but I knew it was all for good.  So I stayed brave and she was amazing.

He came in and numbed her gums with some topical cream.  After that took effect, out came the needle.  She never even saw it, and I don't think she felt it even a tiny bit.  More waiting for the numbing to occur, then ten minutes later he went to work.   They opened her mouth and filled it with more things that I thought could fit in there. This contraption to isolate the tooth, that contraption to keep her mouth open, something else to keep the filling from sticking to the other tooth.  He drilled and cleaned out the "sugar bugs", then filled the hole back up.  It was actually quite fascinating.  Andy and I got to watch the whole thing.  After fifteen minutes he was done, and she was ready to go.  The left side of her mouth was numb and swollen, but the hygienist gave her the good news that she couldn't really chew for the rest of the day so she would have to have milkshakes or smoothies.  Yay!  Nothing like leaving the dentist after having a cavity filled only to create more with milkshakes!  I think this may be a conspiracy.

"So, do you still want to be a dentist?" I asked on the way home.

"Oh yeah!" She told me.

Whew!  So we hadn't killed her dream yet.  Then when we got home, I got confirmation that she had no idea about the Novocaine and needle to the gum.  We walked in the door and her sisters were excited to see her and started asking questions.

"Sissy!  Did you have to get a shot?" This was the first thing Lana asked.

"Nope," was Sonya's reply.

"Well, actually you did," I told her.

"I did??" She asked surprised.

"Yup," I answered.  "Didn't even feel it, did you?'

"Huh, guess not," she said.

This is great because she has to go back in two weeks and get the other one filled.  Thank goodness this experience went well.  So, I'm thinking maybe next time I have to get a cavity filled I will request the kid friendly version of taking care of them, complete with nitrous oxide.  It sounds better than feeling a shot to the gum.  Or getting an epidural.  

Back to School

Hi!  Did you miss me?  Sorry.  I know, I know, but last week was the last week of summer vacation, with Sonya, and I was trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible. That left very little time for my writing.  But we are back to a schedule, which I so desperately need, and I'm ready to regale you with new tales of the girls.  Let's start with the fact though that my daughter started second grade today.  SECOND GRADE!!  What the hell happened to Kindergarten and First??

At this point I would like to take the opportunity to ask Time to please stop speeding.  I'm having a hard time watching the scenery go by and I think I'm starting to feel nauseated.  

Monday, August 8, 2011

The Preferred Babysitter

Saturday evening I was helping the little girls clean up their room, when this conversation took place:

Me-"Mommy is going to be gone most of the day tomorrow, to go get her hair done with the girls."

Georgia- "Who's gonna babysit us?"

Me- "It's Sunday, silly!  Daddy will be here."

Georgia- "Oh good!  I like Daddy cuz he's a good babsittaw."

Me- Laugh out loud.  "Really?  Why is Daddy such a good babysitter?"

Georgia- "Because he's Daddy and he's a Daddy."

I couldn't really dispute that.  

It's good to know their one of their favorite babysitters is their father. You know, so I don't have to feel guilty about leaving them with him.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Proving A Theory

There is a theory I came up with recently that, so far, seems to be true.  It's one I arrived at after talking to my sister earlier this week when she tried to give away her oldest son to me.  Then I solidified my thinking when we had an oh so fun trip to Target a few days ago.  The theory is this:

The kids you see screaming and crying at the grocery store, Target, the mall, etc.  THEIR parents are the ones doing it right.  

Now, I'm sure most of you are continuing to read this to try and figure out how the hell I arrived at this ridiculous conclusion.  Well, let me tell you by giving you the full stories.  

Monday morning my sister, Beth, called to ask if I wanted a fourth child.  "Didn't I want a boy?" was her question.  Nope! All good!  Especially since if she was trying to give him away, it wasn't because he was on his way to winning a Nobel Peace Prize.  No, in fact, Zach had been quite the pain in the ass when she had taken all three of the kids shopping at the farmer's market.  I don't remember exactly what he did to get himself into trouble, but he was misbehaving the entire trip.  My sister had bribed all of the kids at the beginning of shopping (who doesn't), promising honey sticks at the end if they were good.  He was not.  So, guess what?  No honey stick.  He then proceeded to have a 5 1/2 year old sized meltdown right there in the market, while she was checking out.  He screamed and cried for a "HOOOONNNEEYY STIICCKK!!"  But no dice. She stuck to it.  Although, my sister really wanted to give in and stop every eye in the place from giving her the evil you're a terrible mother glare.  Instead she ignored him, paid for her food and left, with a very angry Zach in tow.  She did the right thing.  If she would have given in, he would have known that all he had to do in the future was throw a tantrum and get what he wanted.  Especially if they were out in public.  This is when my theory was born.  

Then, just for fun, I decided to prove it myself on a midweek trip to Target.  I took all three girls, because it's still summer and I have to. We went to get back to school (yay school!) stuff for everyone-new lunch boxes, backpacks, folders, etc.  The trip started okay.  Then.  Then Lana spotted it.  Hello Kitty make-up.  She wanted it, she NEEDED it!  I said no, scooped her up and walked away from Hello Kitty and her make-up, while Lana screamed and cried.  

We walked to the back to school area and I encouraged her to pick out a new lunchbox, but no.  She "wanted something cute!"  

"There are cute lunchboxes here," I told her, picking some out to show her.

"Noooo!  I wan somting else!" She insisted.

She and Sonya needed new shoes, so I told her we would look for some cute shoes.  That would be good, right?  

"Cute shoes and somting else," was her response.  

Fine, whatever.  I left it there for the time being, because I had more shopping to do and wasn't ready to tell her she wasn't getting "somting else".  We found her and Sonya some new shoes.  Then did the rest of our shopping.  Every few minutes she would tell me she still wanted "another cute thing."  I didn't really respond to her.  It wasn't until we headed to the front of the store and stood in line that she realized she wasn't getting "anyting else."   That's when it started.  Hurricane Lana blew into line 17 at Target.  She started crying and screaming and stomping around.  

"I want somting cuuuuuttee!!!" She yelled, thrashing her body about against the impulse buys.   

I felt the stares and heard the "terrible mother" thoughts from people, but I did not waiver.  She certainly wasn't getting anything with the way she acting now, never mind how she was behaving earlier in the trip.  Of course there was a small part of me that wanted to give in, but having been through this more than once, with each of them, I was used to it.  That is when I felt my theory was right.  I was being a good mother, by not giving in to the demands of a four year old.  Sure she was making a lot of noise and acting like a small maniac, but what were my choices?  Give her what she wanted and reward the yelling and screaming, or ignore her and wait until we got to the car where I would give her an earful, and try to restrain myself from leaving her in the parking lot.  Mad Mommy got in the van and yelled at her half the way home.  Didn't help much, since she screamed the whole way home herself.  

I managed to calm myself and her down when we got into the house. Then I reminded her of why she didn't get what she wanted.  I told her she was a good girl, who was having bad behavior and bad behavior doesn't get you "cute things".  Only really good behavior does that, and sometimes not even then.  I mean if I got my kids something every time they asked for it, we would have to rent out a couple of storage units.  

She understood.  She must have been tired from the tantrum, because she asked to go take a nap.  Sure, fine with me!  Then she slept for two hours.  Something she doesn't do in the middle of the day anymore.  I think the summer fun is getting to everyone.  

Anyway, the next time you are out and come across that screaming child, think twice about judging the parent harshly.  Chances are they are sticking to their guns and not giving in to the tiny tyrant demands.  Instead congratulate them for a job well done.  It will balance out the nasty stares they're getting from everyone else around them.  

Monday, August 1, 2011

Spirit in the Sky

There is a question that my girls ask me on a regular basis.  It's a question that I'm not crazy about and I become uneasy about it when they ask.  And no, it's not a question about sex or anything related to it.  That, I could handle.  No, for some reason the question they ask almost weekly is:

"Mommy, when are you going to die?"

I'm not even sure when exactly this started.  I do remember Sonya asking me about death and dying one evening, when we in the shower of all places.  It was at least six months ago.  At the end of her quiz to me she asked me when I was going to die. 

"Why, do you know something?" I asked.

She looked at me blankly, not quite getting my joke, so then I told her,

"I don't know when I'm going to die, nobody does, but hopefully not for a long, long time."

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being.  Then every once in a while she would ask me the question again.  I would give her the same answer, but I did start to get a bit irrited with it.  I mean let's be honest, none of us want to think along those lines.  Then Lana and Georgia got in on the action.  I guess they saw it as a good way to fluster mommy.  They don't really get what they are asking me, and I always give them the same answer.  None the less, at least once a week we will be in the car going to gymnastics/swim lessons/school/the library, and Lana or Georgia out of the blue will say,



"When are you going to die?"  Usually, they ask with a smile and a slight giggle, waiting for my same reaction and response.  Sonya, who now understands the question a little better since she's gotten older, will say,

"You guys!! Stop asking THAT! Hopefully not for a long time!"

I know the little girls don't understand what they are asking, but it still makes me squimish.  I don't think any of us want to think about when we will  buy a ticket for the big party in the sky, but I especially don't want to think about it anytime soon.  I've got three little girls to raise, and I want to be around to see them grow up for a long, long time.  So my hope is that the answer to their question is the right one.  I'm willing to endure their line of questioning as long as it means I'm here to answer them.