Why My Mom Makes Me Cry -- lil' e

Eight reasons my Mom makes me cry (this does not count sporadic things that are done to me, only those things that are a pattern)...

1. She throws away boxes. She will not keep any boxes that my toys come in. Or, when she does keep them, she eventually throws them away. This makes me very sad....I really, really like boxes.

2. She takes away my dessert, regularly. I don't get to eat dessert when I hit, bite, or kick Big E. Not very fair. Big E shouldn't need to be protected, she's much older than I am.

3. She took away my green jacket. I don't want my black jacket. Every time I look in my closet, I get sad. My favorite green jacket is gone.

4. She gets rid of clothes and shoes that I once wore. I don't want any of my clothes or shoes to be given away. They are all my favorites and it makes me very sad when I see them in a box going to someone else. I don't want them to leave. I might become a baby again and they would fit.

5. She throws away pieces of paper that I've cut or drawn on. It's bad enough I don't have any baby pictures but what makes it worse is my mom gets rid of all my little papers that I cut from big papers or that I draw on. She throws them away. In the garbage. I can never get them again. Ever. Luckily, I figured out her ways and check the garbage regularly to make sure she doesn't throw anything away.

6. She doesn't let me make dragon soup. I keep asking my mom to make dragon soup with me but she won't. She says I can help her make soup but she can't help me put cookie dough, pumpkin puree, carrots and water into a soup. This makes me sad. She's stifling my creativity! How will I ever do anything great in this world if she doesn't let me experiment with my creations?

7. She doesn't appreciate my need to build things out of anything I want so she destroys my bridges, my cars, my tractors, my roads, etc. without even asking. She tells me that she needs to sit on the couch so I can't take all the cushions for the whole day or all her pillows because she needs them back but she just doesn't get that I need them to stay built. My building ideas are based off what I just built. I need to look at them, even during the night. Again, stifling me! (You see the pattern.)

8. She doesn't let me stand up while we're driving to look at the cars behind us. How does my Mom expect me to see the cars behind us when I can't turn around and look? It's not fair. I even have my seat belt on my legs so I'm strapped in!!! She can be so rigid at times...

Shout out to all my fans reading this. Let me know why your Mom makes you cry.

Later,

lil' e

Why I Cried on My Birthday -- lil' e

Birthdays are not a happy event for me, especially since I'm four. Five, now that is a cool number. I'd be happy to be five. Three. Three is also cool. But, four. very boring. Besides, since I've been four I hear, "No. I won't pick you up and carry you, you're four now. Use your legs." "Go get dressed. You don't need me to do it, you're four." "You can't use your fingers, eat with your fork. Ffffour, Fooork, see they go together." "You can get your shoes on, you're four." My mom thought herself so clever but I know my letters. I told her, "Listen to me, fork, goes with five. I will use my fork when I'm five. I'll be really big."

Listen, four can be cool sometimes. I'm definitely faster. I can catch a ball better and throw FAR! When my mom isn't looking, I jump for four steps instead of three because you know, I'm now four! But, it wasn't like some magical thing happened on my birthday. In fact, tears, big shoulder shaking tears came down as I was told I had to say good-bye to three since I was turning four. They should know to just ignore the fact I'm turning four. I don't need to know that. I can go right on being three and not know the difference. What were they thinking? They know I'm a person who has trouble letting go. I cry every time I need to put on my new black coat and it's been two months! I want my old, green one back. I don't care the arms were too short. I don't care it was hard to get on. I WANT MY GREEN ONE!

I also don't want to get older for my parent's sake as well. They have been great failures. I have no pictures of me as a baby. They tell me there are some but when I ask where they say in the computer waiting to be put in books. I don't believe them. I look around and there are NONE. Big E has lots of pictures I've seen. Where are mine? Listen, I don't want to grow up, I WANT PICTURES! Then there is the hope that I will be a girl. I don't know how those fish at the aquarium go from being boys to girls and back again but I want to do that and the longer I'm walking, the more complicated it gets.

When you see me, please tell me I'm three.

Later,

lil' e

8 Things to Do with a Pencil -- lil' e

8 Things to Do with a Pencil...

Number One -- Get green playdoh off my shoe sole after stomping killing my "playdoh'ed frog."

Number Two -- Pick my nose and pretend 'it' just went there...(I couldn't control it)

Number Three -- Chase Big E around while yelling, "I'm going to get your eye."

Number Four -- Draw on my Mom's cookbook, "It needed some more dec'ration."

Number Five -- Make new designs on my boring, white door because "It needed some more dec'ration."

Number Six -- Sing into it like a microphone.

Number Seven -- Stick behind your ear because accessories are just cool.

Number Eight -- Make holes in the dirt for a crayon garden 'cause crayons just don't dig very well.

Later,

lil' e