On Dragons...

The kids in our neighborhood band together and play outside some days. They do lots of cool stuff together like having very detailed wedding reenactments, magic shows, etc. She lives for playing with her friends. No, seriously, she's borderline obsessive about it. But she's never afraid to come inside and tell me if something offended her. This was our conversation one day:

Seven: "Mom, I don't like Jack and Jackson anymore."
Me: "What?? Why?"
Seven: "Because they were being dragons and they chased me and scared me."
Me: "Oh... Okay."
Seven: "They fired me."
Me: "Fired you?"
Seven: "Yeah, they were playing dragons and they fired me. I don't like it when they fire me."

On Long Naps...

The other morning, as I do every morning, I got Seven's breakfast ready, plopped it on the table, and suited up to take the dogs outside to pee. Atticus was asleep in his crib. The dining room is just across the hall from the baby's room, so Sev is easily able to hear him.
As I got my shoes on and a leash on Pants, I told Sev, "Come downstairs and holler at me if Atticus wakes up, okay?"
"Okay, mom."

I took the boys out. Pants likes to take six years to find a spot to pee, so maybe five or six minutes passed. I came back upstairs. Seven was happily eating her cereal at the table as Atticus cried in his nursery.

"Sev! I thought I told you to come get me if you heard the baby! How long has he been crying?"

She thought about it for a second, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "I don't know. Two years?"

Thoughts About Ivan

This is Ivan.

Ivan is not a cat. Ivan is half dog, half gremlin, wrapped into a (GIANT) cat's body. The thing is the friendliest, creepiest, most whore-ish creature in the world.

Ivan also likes it rough. The harder you pet/pat/slap him, the harder he purrs and comes back for more. It's weird, I know.

We've had him since he was a kitten, and Sev has grown up with him. To most people, Ivan is a little too nice to the point of being obnoxiously invasive, but Seven has trained him to wrestle her. He will literally walk up to her and pick a fight. Generally speaking, they both love this. But since he is so used to Seven=wrestling, he doesn't know when to just be plain ol' sweet to her. So things like this result:

Ivan was cuddled up with me in bed yesterday morning. Seven jumped up in bed with us to snuggle. She bent to hug me, therefore close to Ivan, and Ivan bit her. He never bites in seriousness, always a "play bite," but still. So she started whining, and then the tears came. I had to explain to her that when she tackles the cat repeatedly, that's what he's used to, so he always thinks she's going to mess with him.

She understood.

Through tears and with a bit too much conviction in her voice, she furrowed her eyebrows and said quietly, "...I hate Ivan." and walked off.

On Being Intolerant...

While I was making breakfast this morning, Sev sat at the dining room table and started musing over life.

Seven: "Mom, when I cried one time, I just wanted everyone to leave me alone."
Me: "Oh?"
Seven: "Yeah, I cried because I was sick of your crap and I didn't want you to talk to me. I wanted to be left alone."
Me: "Oh. Okay."