Life with Amelia Bedelia

Do you remember Amelia Bedelia? Let me begin with a brief children's literature lesson for those who have not...Amelia Bedelia is the title character of a series of American children's books written by Peggy Parish. The books were a favorite in my house growing up.

Amelia repeatedly misunderstood various commands of her employer by always taking figures of speech and various terminology literally, causing her to perform wrong actions with comical effect. For instance, the employer asks her to dress the chicken and Amelia sews a tiny chicken-sized dress for the bird. In my personal favorite, Amelia Bedelia Goes Camping, Amelia can be seen pitching the tent as though she was Nolan Ryan. (**Note to my fellow bibliophiles: I consulted Wikipedia for the author's name and learned a few interesting facts. First, the author spent time living in Cameroon and based the character after a domestic in her childhood home. Also, Peggy Parish died in 1988 and her nephew took over the series. There have been 3 illustrators for the series.)

Why are we discussing Amelia Bedelia? Because, I truly believe that my sweet son was abducted by aliens last night and replaced by Amelia Bedelia. We were talking in circles around each other creating chaos and mayhem at every turn. Allow me to illustrate. Logan and I were involved in a baking frenzy trying to finish Christmas gifts. The dogs (mainly Banjo) were attempting to assist with dish washing...a bit prematurely. Minus one batch of zucchini bread. I told Logan, who was crying because Banjo ate the bread, that it was time to "kick the dogs out." Oops. Poor Banjo probably has a nice sore spot on her ribs. Certainly an Amelia moment! Later, as we were working on cookies (which did not get finished due to mixer drama) Logan asked "Why are we making cookies?" As I continued to measure and stir, I said "Because it is Christmastime and..." Before I could finish with "we are making presents for people we love," Logan jumped off his stool, screamed "It's Christmastime!?", ran to the tree, and began ripping the wrapping off the first gift he could get his hands on. After tears and several failed explanations we rewrapped Daddy's present. We cleaned up our mess and headed towards the bathroom to try and scrub some of the dough out of Logan's hair (ok, mine too). I said "Hold on, let me pull my hair back." Logan started crying "Don't pull your hair, mommy! That's not nice!"

Add that Trey was out of town, the dogs kept howling some sort of canine chorus, I overfilled the bubble bath, and Logan was trying his best to demonstrated his independence. I was overwhelmed and frustrated last night; questioned my parenting skills. I'm blogging the chaos so I can someday look back and laugh at the experience. But for now, I'd prefer Amelia Bedelia stay on the pages of beloved children's books and my son and I have one evening of harmonious interaction. We'll see...