Saturday, we took the kids to the Arizona Science Center. It was a great time. Lots of fun stuff to see and explore. Think Greg and I may have had more fun exploring. It cost $35 for all of us to get in. Not bad. To see the really cool exhibits costs extra, so it could easily turn into a Disneyland experience with regards to forking money over. There is enough to do without the extra exhibits on your first time going. There were even a few places we could let the Fat Boy down and run around. He was digging all the blocks and open space.
Bad lighting + camera phone = crappy blurred picture.
Penelope tried rock climbing on a rock wall. She did pretty good, but got panicked a bit once she was well above our heads. But, she got down like a champ and we were just proud that she was brave enough to try it.
Getting instructions...
Climbing...
Getting a little scared...Daddy talking her through it.
Sunday was just tinkering around the house and a neighborhood princess party to attend to. Ended our weekend by grocery shopping where the next little tidbit happened. Although it does sound funny, it kinda through Greg and I for a loop we hadn’t anticipated dodging for some time.
In the line at the store:
Greg: (Mouths to me) “Look at your daughter.”
Of course she’s my daughter when she does something bad. It’s okay, I do the same thing to Greg!
I look over and Penelope is face-to-face kissing the US/People/Star whatever smut magazine. Literally mouth puckered on the mag, moving her head back and forth.
I gasp, look at Greg who looks like he might vomit or die of hysterics, or maybe both at the same time.
Me: “Penelope! What are you doing??”
Penelope: “Nothing.” As she shyly twists and turns and turns red from embarrassment.
What the fuck people? Seriously. She is 4 ½.
Me: “You need to stop that. It’s inappropriate for a little girl like you.”
Penelope: “Ok Mama.”
Greg is rubbing his head, shaking it in a “No” fashion, and I can tell his blood pressure is rising. Penelope is his baby girl…no boys allowed ever! Especially not at 4 years old.
We get settled in the truck, and we ask her why she was kissing the magazine. Sheepishly she replies that she doesn’t know. But with gentle prodding we ask her again and her reply is, “Because Mama! I wanted to kiss a handsome boy.”
Oh Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Oh it gets better. The “Handsome Boy” she wanted to kiss, was Cory Fucking Haim!! Rest In Peace, but please!
We both told her it was not appropriate for her to kiss boys at this age. Yadda Yadda Yadda. I know this is part of growing up, but shit…I don’t really want to have to explain the depths of the birds and the bees already. She picks up so much crap at school and it’s disheartening. My only saving grace at this point, is her moral compass is pretty strong and she comes home and tells me things that she doesn’t think are right. She trusts us as her parents…trusts that she can tell us things and she won’t get in trouble. I feel old-fashioned, but I’m just not ready for this. I don’t think it’s right and I don’t think it’s cute, and I think as parents we shouldn’t egg this type of behavior on. I’ll get off my soap box now.
Anybody have a great cocktail recipe?
