Oh, the innocence of youth...

Tonight we were driving downtown and were slowly, with a jerk or two here and there, navigating through a tight spot, wraught with cabs, a stretch Hummer (taking up three and a half lanes as it tried to turn and found there was not enough room--weird...), and pedestrians.  Cadence observed this and commented, "Dad, I want those people to die.  I want you to crash into them and kill them."  Bummed that they passed unharmed, she looked on to the next corner and suggested we head for the guy standing there.  Then she talked about how she wants to kill somebody.  Maybe not a certain friend [name withheld], but maybe. 

Cadence at "The Big Game", as she calls it--White Sox vs. Twins

Feeling ill, Spencer and I tried to explain to her that that was the worst thing you could ever do and the saddest thing possible.  She mulled over this for a moment.
We've been having talks about life and death lately, what with all the dandelions she brings home and the "pet ladybugs" we've gone through. 
She finishes mulling and comes up with this:  "But mom, if somebody is mean to me, I want to kill them."
I clumsily launch into a lecture about how we should respond if somebody is mean, trying to figure out how to teach her how wrong what she is saying is.
    "But Mom--Prince Feel-Up (oh yes, that absolutely is what she calls him) killed Maleficent because she was being mean." Okay, Sleeping Beauty is out the door.  Goodbye, Prince Feel-Up.
We ended the conversation with me telling her that we don't talk about killing and dying and stuff.  With a kid like Cadence, that kind of finish is never enough.  Hmmm...any suggestions?

And speaking of violence, might I share a moment with you? 

As I mentioned, tonight we went downtown to share a special joy with the kids:  chocolate cake shakes from Portillos.  Oh, Mama.  After ordering, Spencer and Cadence waited at the front for our order to come up and I had Cam and Layla in our sit and stand stroller and went to find a table.  I picked a spot and tried to entertain Cam until Spencer came back. She does this thing in that stroller that scare the guts outta me.  She arches her back as far as she can, her head pops out the other side and aims down toward the ground.  She's so arched that I'm afraid that one of these days she is going to somehow slip out and land on her head, or break something and get trapped, or somehow strangle herself or something.  It just seems so dangerous.  Plus, the strap that keeps the carseat in it's place is cracked, and so not very trustworthy, and when Cam does this move, her feet push up against the seat where the carseat is and I get so scared that she is going to snap that puppy backwards.  Anyway, it's scary.  And when she does it, she's in crazy mode, so there's no way of stopping her except A) removing her, which is rewarding that dangerous behavior, or B) physically pushing her back down until her head is back where it should be and then getting in her face and saying very firmly, "NO!  NO!".   And I want her to be afraid.  So I say it really firmly.  Anyway, story's getting too long.  While this is going on I notice that the lady at the table next to me is watching, disapprovingly. 

I don't normally get embarrassed about my kids in public.  Almost never.  If people are going to judge me because my three-year-old is picking her nose or my 1-year-old is throwing a tantrum, or whatever, they can go ahead and keep their little idle minds busy by guessing what they would do.  It's so much easier to parent in your mind anyway.  I just do the best job I can being a parent and if that means that some lame-O is annoyed with the fact that I'm letting my child throw a fit as we leave the store, whatever, I'm stickin to my guns.  So it never bugs me.  And it didn't bug me this time, either.
Then Spencer got back to the table and I went to get a highchair for Campbell.  I got back and heard the lady trying to quickly and quietly tell Spencer that I was "rough" with the child.  I was angry.  Very very very.  This is not the same as being told by a stranger that you aren't changing their diaper right or that you really should back yourself and stroller onto an elevator so that you can get off easier or to "put a hat on that child!"  This was a stranger claiming that I was abusing my child.  I said nothing but she knew I had heard her and I think she saw my face as I realized what she was saying. I thought about starting a fight but she was much bigger than me.  I had to talk myself down from throwing french fries in her hair. She quickly moved to another part of the restaurant. 

Here's the thing:  it didn't bother Spencer.  Augh!  I never get offended by strangers, but seriously--just the fact that somebody was watching that scene and decided that I was hurting my child... ooooh.  I don't know.  Spencer can't understand why it bothers me so.  But I'm bothered.  The rest of the time, whenever Spencer took an initiative with the kids, like picking up Campbell to walk to the car, or wiping Cadence's hands clean, in my mind it was because in a little way he suspected me of being too "rough".  That's ridiculous, but this is how much it got to me.  I mean, you can go ahead and say that she was just looking out for the welfare of the child.  I know that's true.  But seriously.  I was not hurting that kid, I was protecting her.   rrrrrrg.   Okay, you get a prize if you read this whole long aside.  Here's a cute picture of Layla to make up for it.

In her Easter Dress.  I have a picture of me holding each girl in this dress.  But not all on this computer so you don't get to see them today.  Too bad.