Atoning.

Bennett just got caught indoor bowling with a coconut he found in the kitchen. Not a big deal, but on the eve of Yom Kippur I'm wondering: Do kids have to atone for sins of stupidity?

I have been discussing forgiveness with kids and we'll be asking each other for forgiveness .. it's a good exercise in humanity, not to mention humility, if nothing else. But stupidity -- is it a sin, or just a normal part of growing up? At what point do we expect them not to do things, like wipe up a mess of paint with a pretty handtowel, but to use a rag instead? When is it alright to expect them not to fill their water cups to the brim and then act shocked when they spill and drip on the kitchen floor? Will they ever know that at this point wiping up the water is a good idea because in a matter of seconds a sibling is about to slip in it?

Some things to think about... when I take a break from atoning for my own many missteps of the year.

Good moods.

I obviously shudder when I hear Bennett call from another room, "Hey Mummy -- are you in a good mood?" Tonight this was followed by, "Will you still be in a good mood if I tell you that I got in the bath wearing dirty socks.. on purpose...?"

At some point Fi got in the bath and everyone tried to convince her to poo while she was in there. She certainly gave it a try.

And the end of all the evening's bath and shower shenanigans (and there were many more.. at some point an apple got involved, and when Fiona went missing we found she'd climbed, once again, into the shower with Efram), Bennett commented on my zen state and said, "Wow you ARE in a good mood. You must have had a lot of coffee today."

I'm zen because I got through today. Fiona started "school" today -- and although she was teary when I picked her up, it went relatively well. So, when I had to fish a half-eaten apple out of a tub of filthy bath water, I was zen. For me, anyway.

The new four?

I'm about 7 weeks away from, all being well, adding a fifth to the brood. I told the kids that number five will be of the She variety, and within seconds the boys figured out that they'd soon be outnumbered. They conferred for a few moments, and then Efram said, "That's fine. The next one will be a boy." I told him that this will most likely be our last baby, to which he replied, "What do you mean? In two more years we get another one, right?"

I soon set him straight. No Efram, I said. I think this is it for us. Five seems like a lot -- an actual handful, in fact.

Bennett thought he had a plan: How about a boy dog, he said. That way things would be even again. He looked rather proud with himself for having figured out a way to work the dog in to yet another one of his proposals.

At this point Francie, who'd been quiet up until now, jumped in. She informed the boys that, "Daddy told me we can either have a dog or a dad. And I think we should keep the Dad, because I don't think dogs can fix things around the house."

The boys agreed. One of them said, "Yeah, and Mummy can't even use a screwdriver to change batteries, so we'd be in real trouble without him."

(The last point, is no longer true. I've conquered my fear of tools and can now use a screwdriver. Not well, but I'm working on it.)