An Interview with My Youngest:

I am forever scribbling down on scrap papers things that come out of Rayna's mouth not quite right...determined to blog them so I won't forget them. I found one such scrap paper today as I was going through some old papers on my nightstand. These two jewels fell from her lips last June:

"Don't talk to me...I'm going to have a sneeze!"

And, later that same day, closely examining the skin on the peanut she was about to eat, she asked Darcy, "Is this available?" (It took Darcy a bit to figure out she was asking if peanut skins were EDIBLE!)

Rayna has always been very creative in her usuage of the English language (and often very mistaken!), though that has never detered her from undertaking educating Doug on all the finer points of the English language! No wonder he gets so mixed up!

Yesterday, I read on someone else's blog an interview she had done with her child. I thought it might be fun to see how Rayna would answer those same questions, so, after I dropped her older siblings off at their respective schools this morning, I took a few minutes out to "interview" her before dropping her off at her school. I should have known better than to expect single sentence answers. This child is bound to be a politician...she could talk the hind legs off a hound dog and never get to the point.

Case in point: Another Rayna story I failed to chronicle here...earlier
this summer, when the two younger kids were playing together alone in the back
yard, I heard wailing. Had it been RAYNA, I would have continued what I was
doing without a second thought...she wails at everything and nothing at
all...EVERY event in life is a moment of overwhelming drama in her eyes.
However, this particular day, it was DOUG'S voice that I heard wailing. He NEVER
wails. I flew to our bedroom French doors (which look out into the backyard)
and, through the blinds, caught sight of Rayna running to the Family room door
definitely on a mission. She looked furious and determined to do some SERIOUS
TATTLE-TALEing. Meanwhile, Doug was at the far end of the yard sitting up in the
fort holding his hand up to his face wailing in genuine pain. Rayna was so
furious that she didn't even see me across the way at the bedroom door. She was
struggling to pull the other door open as I called out to her. Boy was she LIVID
and did SHE have a story to tell...it was written all over her indignant little
face. One look at DOUG, told me that our conversation needed to start with a few
simple answers before we moved to the refereeing her fights stage. So, I
interupted her tirade against Doug that had already begun with a simple
question:
"Why is your brother crying?" That was all I was interested in at
that moment.

Rayna, by now, was herself wailing so loud that the words
she was screaming weren't even understandable.

I again interupted her
and said, "Rayna, talk in a NORMAL voice so I can UNDERSTAND you....Why is your
brother crying?"

To which Rayna wailed, "Because I wanted to give him a
PRESENT."

"Rayna, that doesn't make any sense. WHY is your brother
crying?"

Again she wailed, "Because...I...wanted...to give him...a
present!" (insert a heart-rending gasp wherever you read '...'!)
The tears
are now pouring down her face in a torrent. Brother, meanwhile has quietly
calmed himself...though he remains somberly perched in the fort with his hand still up to his face.

"Rayna,
tell me WHY your brother is crying!"

"I told you! BECAUSE I WANTED to
GIVE HIM a PRESENT."

"Rayna, your brother does not cry because someone
wants to give him a present. What did you DO to your brother?"

More
wailing and gnashing of teeth as she struggles through her own personal agony at
this most unfair inquisition...
"(gasp, sob, gasp)Doug is crying BECAUSE I
WANTED TO GIVE HIM A PRESENT. (gasp, sob) I TRIED TO GIVE HIM A PRESENT."

"Rayna, if you don't tell me right now WHY your brother is crying, I am
going to spank you!"

"Mom! I WANTED to give him a present. I tried to
give him a present. I wanted to give him a stick."

"Rayna, your brother
is not crying because you wanted to give him a stick. Why is your brother
crying? Did you HIT him with the stick?"

"He's crying because I wanted
to give him a PRESENT. I wanted to give him a STICK. I tried to give him a
present and the stick hit him."

"Okay, Rayna, the answer is: 'I hit him
with a stick.' Now, I want you to tell me, why is your brother crying?"

"Because I WANTED to give him a PRESENT!" (more sobbing and gasping and
great quavering of the voice and dramatic movements of the hands and arms)

"Rayna, your brother is NOT crying because you wanted to give him a present.
He is crying because you HIT him with a stick. Now I am going to ask you one
more time and I want you to just tell me the truth to BEGIN with. Why is your
brother crying?"

"Because I wanted to give him a present!"

"Rayna, the answer is 'because I hit him with a stick.' Now tell me, WHY
is your brother crying?"

"Because I wanted to give him a present and I ACCIDENTLY
hit him with a stick!"

"You are almost there. I want you just to tell me
why your brother is crying. I don't want to hear all the other stuff. The answer
is, 'because I hit him with a stick.' Now, WHY is your brother crying?"

wailing, sobbing, gasping, shuddering, tears streaming...."Because I
ACCIDENTLY hit him with a stick."

"Rayna, just say, "Because I hit him
with a stick!!!!"

"I ACCIDENTLY hit him with a stick because I wanted to
give him a present!"

....close enough! I will work more on helping her
learn to ANSWER the actual QUESTION the next time...one mother only has so much
stamina....

This child is bound for a successful career in politics. She
can cry on cue, she loves people, she loves the spotlight, and she couldn't give
a straight, succinct answer if her life depended upon it! It frustrates me to
pieces how I have to pry the truth out of her. She gives the most long-winded,
convuluted answers that don't pass anywhere NEAR any actual ANSWER to the
question asked...yup, she has a bright future ahead of her in politics!

All of which SHOULD have left me fully realizing that SHE was not the child to "interview" during the brief window of the drive to school this morning...but, I am a slow learner!

I will boil down her answers to one or two of the key sentences in her long winded replies...

What does Mom do most?: "You go to work all the time and I miss you. Can't you stay home? The most I do is go to school and the most you do is play with the pup!" (ouch!)

What makes Mom happy?: "All of us being good, even Daddy, too!" (that one wasn't an ouch until she added those last three words!)

What makes Mommy sad?: "When we all three went to Mexico." (Huh? I thought maybe she was meaning when I went to El Salvador. Realized that was wrong though as her answer continued...) "When I hid in Darcy's suitcase and went all the way to Mexico!" (Light is finally coming on...she is referring to the time this summer when SHE was traumatized by Darcy going to youth camp in New Mexico for an entire week!)

What makes Mom mad?: "If somebody at school beats me up!" (Since when has six year old RAYNA had brushes with bodily injury at school????!)

What was Mom like when she was little?: "Chocolate pie!" No, Honey, I meant, what was I like when I was a kid, not what DID I like! "short, small, fun-sized..."

How old is Mommy? "Forty-five."

How much does Mom weigh? "One hundred pounds! I can't hardly lift you up!"

What is Mommy's favorite thing to do? "Kissing Daddy!"

What is Mommy's least favorite thing to do?...What does she HATE to do? "Spanking me!"

What does Mommy say most? "Get dressed! Get dressed! Get dressed! One hundred and fifty times you yell, 'Get dressed!'" (Hmmm...maybe THAT explains why this child of mine goes through 150 different outfits every single day...her mother keeps yelling 'Get dressed!' at her! Who knew our laundry issue was MY fault!)