Is it Christmas yet? Plus: Deep Thoughts on God by Anika, aged nearly 5

The kids are just full of gems lately. When they aren't dancing or building legos or running like banshees or building a car out of the couch pillows or playing super heroes, they are playing school.

Anika usually wants to be the student, and "Mama, you be Mrs. M. and Reni can be Duke." Reni usually loses interest rather quickly, but the other day they were coloring and writing and chatting about letters and numbers. Reni observed that "M looks just like a W when you turn it upside down!" and Anika did some counting on her fingers and then announced, "Mama, three plus five is eight!" Seeing as how my pregnancy brain condition is at the point now where I have to Google "upside down" just to make sure it's not spelled "upsidown" (yes, I did just do that, OMG), the intellectual capacity of little munchkin brains just astounds me. I have a feeling that if I were a kindergarten teacher, I would vacillate between moments of *facepalm* and moments of absolute awe and admiration.

One of the more interesting things about her school is what she's learning vis-a-vis Catholicism. Last night, I overheard this conversation between Anika and Mando:

"Anika, you need to be a better listener. Mom and dad are the boss and we say it's time for bed."

"No, daddy, GOD is the boss because he knows EVERYTHING."

Mando, amused smile: "Really? Where does God live?"

"Ummm, California!"

"And what else do you know about God?"

"He doesn't speak English. Well, just one word - hello. The rest of the time he speaks Spanish. Or … French. Also, he is Jesus too. And he is always watching."

"Oh, kind of like your Christmas Elf?"

"No, the Christmas Elf is magic and I LOVE HIM." Then -- a flit of feet, a flash of pink, and she disappeared upstairs to gather up her beloved Elf and scoop him underneath her left arm while Rosita was tucked under her right.

Speaking of God and elves, the kids are just a *teensy* bit excited for December 25th. Mama, WHY is it not Christmas yet? Reni asks about five kazillion times a day. Anika is also inquiring "how many days until my birthday?" and they both want to know how much longer until Grandma and Grandpa will visit. We heard distant airplane noise today and Reni announced, "I think that's Grandma and Grandpa's plane! Yes, it is. It is their airplane. They will be here soon."

Then there is the impending arrival of the baby, which is taking just about as long as Christmas and birthdays and grandparent's visits to get here, already, jeez. I couldn't feel any more like Donald Duck waddling around after over-indulging in whatever it is that Donald Duck eats (in my case, lately, about a dozen sugar cookies) and right around 10 p.m. the little guy starts his all-night dance party, making it nearly impossible to sleep. I wish I were exaggerating when I say that it's impossible to sleep, but it really is. His head bobs up and down right over my bladder and he seems to have more limbs than an octopus. He will have no problems keeping up with his older siblings, this much we know. I toured the birthing wing of the itsy bitsy Pullman area hospital last week, and I have to say that I may not want to come home. Between the snack-stocked mini fridge, the flat screen TV, the jacuzzi tub and the nurses that know how to swaddle and calm a newborn, they may have to kick me out of there.