Kid-isms, Episode Eleventy Twelve

Sayer has been a treasure trove of misspoken words lately. Maybe it makes me a bad parent, but 99% of the time, I just let them go... they're too funny to change. And besides, when I try to tell him how things are really said/pronounced, he usually doesn't listen.

All of the kids have been on a choose your own cereal kick lately where they pick two or three kinds to mix. Most of the cereals are named through description rather than brand. So, the other day, Sayer asked for "squares" and "waisin brown."  I giggled at the last one and said, "Hey bud, can you say 'raisin bran?'"

He looked at me, immediately said, "Waisin bran. But that cereal is called Waisin BROWN mommy, WAISIN BROWN."

Hey, it's brown and it has raisins. Touche.

Caly also has a few mispronunciations that I adore, like "callapitters," but her moments in hilarity are often a result of strange names for her toys.

Michelle bought the kids these tiny souvenir turtles that have little bobble heads and Caly immediately took it under her wing and named it Sarah. It was dubbed Sarah for quite awhile before it got lost in the diaper bag. She rediscovered it at a birthday party the other day and after calling it Sarah a few times, she declared that Sarah the Turtle would henceforth be called...

Turdy.

As in, "This is my turdy." or "Isn't my turdy cute?" or, the shortened version, "ONLY MOMMIES CAN TOUCH MY TURD!" and "My turd does NOT like to be bonked on the head.

Yeah, I'd like to see you swallow your laughter every time she brings you her Turdy to pet.

Between the two of them, we can write a new dictionary AND the next hot baby names book.

Trying to Say Yes

Awhile back, I made a pact with myself that I would try to say "yes" to the kids as often as possible. Obviously, requests such as, "Can I play on that little roof with the rake?" "Can we paint your car with dirt?" and Zoen's unspoken request to use the electrical sockets as keyholes are understandably denied.

But I realized that I often said no to things with little reason other than I didn't feel like making it happen or that it would make some kind of mess. Well, I need to get over being lazy and messes can be cleaned. 

So, I started saying yes. "Can we jump on your bed?" Sure! "Can we go to the library again today?" Why not? "Can we listen to that song again?" (And again, and again, and again, and... oh my ears... but ok!)

The experiment was a lot of fun for both the kids and for me. They got to do a lot of stuff that they wanted and I totally grinned at their wide-eyed response when I'd surprise them with a "yes" when they were expecting "no."

A day or two in, Caly turned to me and said, "Today is Hello Kitty's birthday! Can we have a party?"

A beat, and then... "Sure!" 

So, I made a cookie cake, Lex made decorations, and we set the table for a party. It started as a 7th birthday party for a giant headed Hello Kitty and morphed to a joint party for her and for Lexi's new pet, Pengy as well as for Sayer's stuffed bear, Rarey. The kids asked for gift bags (yes) and tissue paper (sure) and gathered presents for their animals. We waited until Shaun got home and had a little party and I didn't worry a bit that we were chowing on cake before dinner. Ok, that last part is a lie, but I swallowed my control issues and let them go to town.

I think it's safe to say that a good time was had by all.

The birthday Stuffy with C.

Rarey the Bear turns... one?

Pengy claimed that blowing a candle out while having a beak was tough so Lex helped.

And while Z didn't offer a stuffed friend for celebrating, he definitely felt like he should take part in the fun. Safe to say that the boy likes whipped cream.

Hairy

My kids like to "make my hair," which generally consists of three kids jockeying for space on my shoulders and around my head and trying to jerk a brush or comb through my tresses.

(By the way, the word "tresses" totally makes me think of glamorous, long, flowing locks. My hair more accurately resembles an electrocuted poodle at the end of the day, but hey, a girl can have vision!)

I generally encourage "hair-making" as it's a fairly enjoyable treatment aside from having my head yanked side to side on occasion.

The other day, having woken up at 5am with a maddeningly wakeful baby, I was falling asleep sitting up and relished sitting down and having tactile tabs on all of my kids. Ok, so maybe having a baby at the end of a fistful of my hair isn't exactly restful, but as long as he was using my hair as a climbing rope, he wasn't running away to get into trouble.

The girls and Sayer were taking turns spraying my hair with detangler and kept running into the bathroom to gather supplies. At one point, I had 11 barrettes, two headbands, and a curler in my hair. The kids pronounced me "Be-you-tee-full!" and continued to add items.

They were surprisingly gentle, aside from Z's yanks, and I was slowly lulled into a nice, relaxed state. 

Now, this is the thing with kids... they like making you feel nice and mellow. If they can get you to close your eyes, all the better. Generally, they choose this moment to ask you for candy. Or, better yet, to tip-toe off and get their own candy. Mom's halfway comatose, she doesn't care!

But occasionally, just to keep you on your toes, they decide to revert back into their infancy where they'd do things like let out loud shrieks in the night just to keep you on your toes.

I was leaning back against the ottoman and Caly was brushing my hair with a matchbox car. (Whatever, dude... it felt nice). She reached down to pick something up and suddenly said, "Ok, now... I'm going to doctor you. Don't worry, this won't hurt a-"

She wacked me over the head with a plastic stick.

"-bit."

I yelped and turned around and gave her a "what the HECK" look. She solemnly stared at me and said,

"See?"

Lexi took a picture with her camera.

"Caly, WHAT on EARTH are you doing?! That hurt!"

Lexi snapped another picture.

Sayer saturated the remaining dry section of my hair and half of my face with detangler spray.

She patted my cheek and shook her head at me, "Oh Mama, I had to. And really. It didn't hurt a bit. Remember?"

And then she gently drove another matchbox car over my face.

I'm seriously considering a bubble suit and helmet.

And I guess I should be glad they stayed out of mischief that day?  Uh, sort of?

Caly-isms - An Exercise in Controlled Laughter

Shaun, being silly, asked Caly(3), who the cutest person in the room was. We expected her usual answer, "ME!", but this time she pointed to her cousin and herself... and then added on, "And Lexi and Sayer and Zoen and Daddy and Mommy and Robin!"

Shaun laughed and said, "I think you're a diplomat."

Caly grinned and said, "Nooooo, I'm just a mat. A mat! A MAP! I'm just a MAP!"

And cue singing of that horrid song, "I'm a map, I'm a map, I'm a map, I'm a maaaaap!"

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Later, we're dying eggs and without a second thought, Caly plunged her hand into the cup of dark blue dye. I groaned and futily tried to wipe the dye off of her tiny hand. She looked like a Smurf. A delighted Smurf. I saw the wheels turning and intercepted them before it could get worse,

"Please try not to put any more body parts into the dye. Just... don't."

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Egg dying continued and Caly accidentally dropped hers into one of the cups. When she pulled it out, she looked down and saw a crack. "Oh NO!" she exclaimed...

"It... It hatched." She looked totally disturbed. I had to swallow my laughter and assure her that, contrary to her father's insistance, there were no actual chickens that would hatch out and ruin her egg shells.

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This morning, while I was getting breakfast for the girls, I caught sight of Caly's blue paw and my heart caught in my throat. In the matter of miliseconds, I was mentally searching her arm for areas of decreased circulation and attempting to understand why she was completely unbothered.

Then I came to my senses and remembered Egg Dying 2012. Hey, it was pre-coffee.