Ah, tis the season, yet again. And of course, we have our Christmas card rejects piling up like unwanted but hilarious mountains of snow.
Last year's struggle was so bad that I actually didn't send cards at all. The year before, I had adorable cards ordered and purchased but never got my act together to get them out to everyone. This year? This year I'll send a card, come hell, high water, or a booger hanging out a kid's nose. Yes. It will happen.
Here's some samplings of the Christmas cards that weren't meant to be...
Caly looks bored... Sayer's alright... Lex looks completely disgruntled. I'm almost tempted to send this to give a taste of what these kids can be like. But Caly's not smacking anyone, so it's not quite true enough.
Sayer's the only one who looks normal in this picture. Aside from the fact that he's holding a tiny, naked baby doll with an obscenely large head. Oh, and then there's Shaun's reflection in the doorway... maybe's that's the way we'll make it into this year's shot?
And there it is... the money shot. That is, if I were 9 feet tall and shooting from above.
Alas, we'll attempt again tomorrow. If these kids don't cooperate, I'm sending out the one where they all look goofy. Hey, it's payback!
My kids have obviously inherited my sense of humor. Random and completely unintentional with a penchant for the corny. (I tried to deny the last part, but I married Shaun and he makes me laugh. Enough said).
Lex has learned the art of the knock-knock joke. Sort of. To me? This is torture. I hate knock-knock jokes with a fierce passion. But I indulge her and give the required chuckle at each nonsensical (at worst) or cheesy (at best) punch line.
Unlike me, Shaun has welcomed the knock-knock phase with open arms. Those of you who know him, know that his capacity for the cheesy knows no bounds. He's been teaching her new ones whenever he gets a chance. Some go right over her head, but she's wise enough to understand that even when not completely understood, a good joke will endear her to a crowd. So she delivers the jokes with the proper pauses and basks in the giggles.
She decided to test out my parents the other night with a joke that she learned while spending the earlier portion of the day with Shaun.
"Knock-knock!"
My family answered readily, "Who's there?"
"PREGNANT DOG!"
"Pregnant do--" They didn't get a chance to finish before she jumped in,
"WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF!" Then she dissolved into giggles.
Silence. Puzzled silence and then a few polite laughs. I raised my eyebrows at Shaun who was lost in his own round of guffaws. When he paused to breath, he choked out, "Interrupting cow, Lex, interrupting cow!"
She stopped and exclaimed, "Oh YEAH! Knock-knock!"
"Who's there?"
"Interrupting cow!"
"Interrupting co--"
"MOOOOO MOOOOO MOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOO!"
By this point, we were all cracking up, though I suspect most were laughing over the interrupting pregnant dog instead of the 3rd oldest knock-knock joke in history.
Kids are quirky. My oldest has been seen in public with one gigantic, dangly plastic earring in her ear. My nephew used to wear one fingerless glove just about everywhere he went. Caly has to have a babydoll in her hand and some various toy in the other every time we leave the house.
Sayer? Well... he's showing an early propensity for the quirky. I was settling him down for a nap today and having little success. You see, he came into his room wearing a plush block on his head for a hat and carrying a light up magic wand from his sisters' dress-up box. Try settling that down to sleep.
He most certainly thought he was funny stuff, evidenced by him putting his open mouth on my shoulder, gumming it, and pulling back while yelling, "BAP!" And then he'd crack up.
Nap time wasn't exactly forthcoming.
But I needed him to go down at some point. So I gently wrestled the wand from his grasp. Tears. He calmed down after a second and eyed me. I eyed his hat. He grinned and whispered, "bap!"
And then he put his head on my shoulder and patted me.
The hat stayed on his head.
Now sound asleep, that's where the hat remains.
A wise person once advised: Choose your battles. And so? I let this one go. (I also obviously let the battle of getting a good photo go as well... after those bedtime antics, I wasn't about to risk waking the kid up).
Once upon a time, I used to be able to lay on the floor while the kids played with and around me and occasionally, they'd wander behind my back or I'd close my eyes while playing "Baby." No worries.
I realized that changed when, under coercion from the girls, I stretched out on the floor. The girls wanted me to be the baby. And part of being the baby involves me going to sleep. This game is generally AWESOME... a warm blanket? Pillow? Little hands patting me on the head? Sweet! But as I lowered myself to the floor, I warily eyed my son. Then as I closed my eyes, I curled my body into a fetal position and put my arms over my head and face as if I were bracing for an earthquake.
Why? The answer came about 15 seconds later when all 26 pounds of my hilarious little son landed on my head.
He apparently thinks it's funny to dive bomb my face. Over. And over. And over.
So, I've adapted. I now brace for onslaughts of toddler affection.
No one warned me about this. Or about being poked in the face with eating utensils. Or about being used as a human jungle gym. Or about having to catch your toddler as they dive-bomb out of your arms to reach something forbidden. No one mentioned that playing pretend could sometimes be hazardous to your health. Or that most parental injuries are gifts from your children.
These kids and their exuberant affection are dangerous.
I seriously think there's a market for a good protective suit for parents. Heck, it could be made with built in footholds. Because really, they're going to try to climb up your body anyway... might as well make it less painful.
(taken right before he tried to dive down to you know, eat the goat or something).
Apparently, when I go on vacation, I go on vacation from everything, blogging included. Maybe because this last vacation was without the munchkins and well, let's be honest, they do provide the ample fodder that keeps this blog trucking along.
Without kids, you say? Why yes. Shaun was his usual sweet self and schemed a way to get me on a little 4 day getaway BY. MYSELF. And he kept the kidlets for most of the time, which kept me relaxed, (except when I called at 11pm and thought I heard them running around and yelling in the background... that was a bit of a moment). It was awesome.
And I came back and dove right into the motherhood/wifey/me that I had left. And it was just as awesome. (Shaun actually brought the kids into the airport to surprise me when I got off the plane. Hearing them screech "MOOOOOMMMMY!" and run at me was just about the most awesome thing ever. I had told Shaun that my only requirement for the trip was that when I came back, they had to greet me with as much enthusiasm as they greet him EVERY. DAY. (I know, right?) They delivered with great gusto. I was pleased.
Anyway, here we are, getting back into the swing of things just in time for us to get all out of the swing with the holidays. Craziness. But that's how we like it 'round here.
I generally give the kids a rundown of what we're headed off to do for the day. It usually gives them something to look forward to doing or at least helps them know what to expect. However, sometimes that goes hilariously awry.
"Alright everybody, let's get your shoes and sock on your feet so we can go to the doctor's office and then you can come with Mommy to vote."
Lex perked up and exclaimed, "Sissy! We're going on a boat!" I quickly tried to quell that rumor before I found myself dealing with missed expectations, (i.e. temper tantrums and limp limbs),
"No, no, not a boat... we're going to VOTE."
Caly piped in, "A boat! Like da pirate boat? They were scare-wee!"
"No, honey... not a boat. Vote! Can you say V-V-V-VOTE?"
Too late. The girls were off and running with their little boat dreams,
"Ohhh, maybe it'll be a big boat with LOTS of pirates!"
"I don't yike pirates! But I yike boats!"
"Maybe it'll be a boat without pirates! And we'll sail to Hawaii!"
"I want to go there! Momma, where's da boat? I want to get on da boat!"
"Yeah, Momma! Do we need our bathing suits?"
They peered at me expectantly.
"Um... girls? We're not going on a BOAT. We're going to VOTE! Voting is when you tell what you--" One of the girls interrupted,
"Momma? Do you vote on a BOAT? I wanna go on a boat!"
Cue the two of them dancing around and chanting, "A boat! Vote on a boat!"
Imagine their surprise when the voting happened in a high school gymnasium. Yeah, talk about underwhelmed.
(Thankfully, some skillfully produced lollipops assuaged any residual disappointments over the missed boat. But now that I think about it... maybe we should have a family vote about boating to Hawaii. I think that's a cause I could get wholeheartedly behind).
Took the two littlest kids in for very, very overdue well visits. I was interested to see how the kids measured up against each other. My suspicions? I thought Sayer would at least weigh as much as Caly.
Um, he's got a half a pound on her. I have two 26 pound children.
With her 26 pounds and however many inches tall she is, Caly remains firmly snuggled in the 20th percentile. She's her mother's daughter, through and through.
Sayer and his 26 pounds obvious tip the 95th percentile for weight. Daddy's sturdy little man. But... his height? He's just over the 18th percentile. Kid is a fire hydrant.
Before we had kids, I joked about how Shaun and I were destined to have short boys and tall girls. Looks more like we're having short kids. Sorry, honey... gotta kiss those basketball dreams goodbye. (Then again, there's always Muggsy Bogues).
Lex gets her checkup in a few months. I'm not holding my breath that she'll be on the tall side of things.
A few days ago, we were driving to visit family with two sleeping little people and the biggest of the little people quietly reading in the back seat. Shaun and I were taking advantage of the quiet to actually have an uninterrupted conversation. Suddenly, Lex piped up from the back seat,
"Hey Daddy! Do you know what Goofy likes to eat?"
He replied that he didn't know and she chirped, "Bologna sandwiches!"
A few minutes later, Shaun asked Lex, "Hey Lex... do you know what ghosts like to eat?" She shook her head and he delivered the punchline, "BOO-logna sandwiches!"
Silence. I glanced back and Lex was smiling a bit but didn't say anything. I whispered to Shaun, "Does she get it?" He peeked at her in the rearview mirror and shrugged.
We picked up our conversation after a few more moments of silence.
Several minutes later, she exclaimed, "HEY DAD!"
"Hey what?"
"Do you know what vampires like to eat?!" I whispered to Shaun, "SHE GETS IT!" I started grinning, proud that my kid actually got Shaun's joke well enough to make her own. Then, he answered her,
"Nope, what do they like to eat?" We waited, totally expecting to hear an appropriate punchline to finish our train of jokes. And then... she spoke, completely deadpan,
"Blood. They like blood. And they sleep all day and stay up at night."
Yeah, not exactly what were expecting. I CRACKED up, sputtering and wheezing. There was something overwhelmingly funny about the complete miss of a joke that she delivered when were expecting something completely different. Apparently, we have some work to do on the jokes. Ah, 4 year olds.
[I was laughing so hard at one point that Shaun started tossing out lines from the previous week's episode of Community to keep me going, (I'm apparently a spectacle when I'm cracking up), and when he got to this scene, I thought I was going to pee my pants. It's completely unrelated, but I still can't watch this scene without breaking into guffaws of laughter]
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