This morning over coffee I asked my husband who his favorite kid was.  He looked at me all disgusted. “C’mon we all have one.” I coaxed. He paused. 

Pointing my finger in the air, “Ha! I knew it!”, I smiled and took a long sip of my 2 hour old cold coffee.  

“Well, I don’t have a favorite. They all have their moments.” he retorted. 

“Way to play it safe.” I smiled and winked at his uncomfortable handsome face.  

“Okay, who is your favorite?”, he asked, trying to be sly.  

“Excuse me, I’m not a monster that’s just mean.  Anyway they all cause me about the same amount of grief.”  I said. 

All joking aside, I agree with him.  I don’t have a favorite, but they each have their own moments that are super fun.  It’s an understatement when I say it’s been an adventure watching them grow.  Seeing how each of their extremely different personalities are developing and witnessing which fighting style they prefer right before bed is humorous.  Or as my husband and I lovingly refer to bedtime as the longest, most insane, worst 4 weeks of our day.  

Speaking on how they each have their moments, this is all about our 4 year old M. She is straight up hilarious.  Like seriously one of the funniest and happiest people I know.  I want to be like her when I grow up.  She is also very intelligent, but she does have more than a few “bless your heart” moments in a day.  Hey I’m not being mean, I have those a lot too… bless my heart.

The other night at dinner, surprise surprise, it was spaghetti.  Okay, it was really just egg noodles with butter and cheese, because my children are weird and only eat like three things. My husband and I were discussing the next school year and weighing the pros and cons of sending M to Kindergarten.  Out of the blue M says in her sweet little voice, “The seven continents of the world are: North America, South America, Europe, Australia, Asia, Africa and Antarctica.” Rick and I just sat there with our mouths agape. I’m pretty sure a noodle slide out. Stunned, words finally found their way to my lips, “Yes. Yes, those are the seven continents M. Great job!”

She giggled and slurped up some more noodles.  As she was basking in the admiration of good job cheers from her sisters, Rick and I looked at each other in shock. 

“Wow, I mean I’ve always known she is really smart, but..” I said. 

“I know, wow that is a good preschool.  Maybe she really is ready for kindergarten. This is great!” my husband said. 

“I know, it is a great preschool. I think that..” and before I could finish my thought or statement M interjects, “There’s a noodle in my nose!” 

“Excuse me, a what?” I said. 

“A noodle mommy!” M said excitedly. 

I go over and look at her nose and I see literally nothing. Her nostril is as plain as this dinner. She keeps insisting there is a noodle up there. I keep insisting there isn’t. Trying to distract her from this noodle thing, I tell her to finish eating so we can go clean the bathroom, or I guess other people might call it bath time.  My children splash around in the tub like deranged sea lions, so my bathroom floors are like, seriously immaculate.  

Also I am comparing this noodle in the nose moment to this past Super Bowl Sunday.  What happened on that day? Oh let me share.  We made lots of yummy appetizers, because that’s what you do on that particular Sunday in the States. There is also a football game on tv I think. Anyway back on point, my husband gave M a little smokie on a toothpick.  M ate the smokie, but magically didn’t have the toothpick.  My husband then asks her where it is and she said she didn’t know. The next thing I know, I’m being dragged into the kitchen by my panicked 6 year old because M ate the toothpick and we have to go to the hospital now! M also provided theatrics by holding her throat sobbing, swaying and saying, “It hurts! It hurts!”, I still picture the Wicked Witch of the West melting and collapsing to the ground. Long story short, she didn’t eat the toothpick… it was on the table.  

So now you can see why I am a little skeptical that she shoved a noodle up there.  

All through dinner she keeps fiddling with her nose.  I ignore it, because gross and I’m hungry.  I give in and after dinner I take her to my room where I find one of those blue baby nose sucker things, that magically made it through my great baby items purge. I had her lay down and I used that sucker. I really did give it some effort and sure enough out came.. nothing. Nothing comes out!   She is still upset, but I calm her down by promising her a bath with all 18 of her Barbie’s. As I’m drawing the water I hear M give the biggest sneeze.  Like Texas big. Startled birds flew off the house and everything big.  And sure enough this egg noodle about two inches long shoots out of her nose and lands on my super clean bathroom floor, all gooey and slimy.  M with the biggest smile, squats down and holds it up to my mortified and shocked face.  “See Mama! I told you there was a noodle in my nose!” she says proudly.  

Well shit, there sure was. 

After some debate, we have decided that we are still sending our little “Noodle Nose” to Kindergarten this fall. I’m just going to pack her lunch.

Oh and what is our bedtime fighting style you ask?  Mostly Passive aggressive comments and empty threats of desperation. Then hugs and kisses of course.