Car Craziness

Driving in the car with these kids is never a quiet experience. More often than not, there's a little humor mixed in.  Why is it that kids say some of the most hilarious stuff when they're strapped into car seats?  Kind of makes me want to bring the car seats into the house.

Kidding.

Sort of.

Lexi, at 5 years and three quarters, (and don't you forget it), is very big into "teaching" her younger sister. Yesterday, this involved peppering her with random questions. I was actually surprised that Caly(3) was getting most of them correct.  "What makes a rainbow?" "How do plants grow?" "What time of day does the sun come up?" When Caly would get stumped on a question of when Lex didn't really know the answer, she'd ask me.  I'd answer and she'd move to the next.

Then she asked Caly, "Where do babies come from?"

Caly was silent for a minute and I held my breath. I'm not scared of that conversation, but I really didn't want to chat it up about how babies were made while driving 70mph down the interstate with a squealing baby and rambunctious toddler in tow. 

Inevitably, they asked me, "Mama?  Where do babies come from?"

"Uhhhhh..."

Then Lex saved the day, "OH! I know!  They come from bellies! Of course!"

Of course indeed. I was 2 seconds away from saying, "Let's ask Daddy when we get home!" Shaun can thank me later.
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Later, as we drove through my parent's neighborhood, Lexi commented at how all of the houses were made of brick.  Caly agreed, then said,

"Yeah. And that's good. Because, you know, then the Big Bad Wolf can't blow them down."

Forget tornadoes and hurricanes, Big Bad Wolf prevention ranks as number 1 importance.  I think she has a future in national security.
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Driving home from places around bedtime usually means that I'm hoping, praying, and trying to get those kids to just STOP. TALKING. FOR. ONE. STINKING. SECOND. AND. GOTOSLEEP.

Because they will talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and keep themselves awake.  It's like a ninja skill.

The car had settled into a relative silence and I peered back into the rear view mirror to see who was asleep.  No one, but hey... oh well.  Soon.

Then Sayer spotted Shaun driving in front of us and exclaimed, "MOMMY!  Dat's Daddy's car! Dat's Daddy!  Let's go TACKLE HIM!"

I said, "OK, um, maybe when we get home? We're driving!" 

Of course, when you're 2, that is so not a problem, "No, Mama!  Let's go tackle him! WIT OUR CAR!"

Yeah, he's totally not allowed to drive.

It's When They're in Cahoots that Scares Me

My kids are not gigantic mischief-makers as a general rule.  Yes, they get into trouble. And yes, they occasionally think up wild ways to make messes, but not too often.  (THANK GOODNESS)

At least... when they're working alone. 

I've noticed a trend lately. When two or more of them are together, the mischief making compounds exponentially.  (Do you like that math talk that I'm throwing around?  Because I remember all sorts of stuff from 12th grade calculus. Or not).

The other night, Zoen was freaking out due to a combination of teething, tiredness, and over stimulation.  He needed to be jammied and put to sleep, but keeping him somewhat calm was proving to be difficult, so I asked Caly to go into my room and get his pj's.

Now, awhile back, we inherited a large wooden bookcase and placed it in our room.  Because Z still bunks with us and because there's limited storage in the boys' room, I decided to put Z's blankets, clothes and the like on the shelves. It's turned out to be a nice little system.

So, I sent her in there with the instructions as to where the jammies were, (shelf on the bottom closest to the door).  She was gone for a long time. 

Then she came back empty handed.  "I can't find them!"  She's my finder kid, so I tried describing the shelf again.  And she trotted off saying, "I'll get them now!"  Of course, Sayer heard her and started yelling, "NO! I WILL FIND DEM!" and the two raced into my room.

I focused my attention on the 4 legged octopus that was still fussing in my arms.  I finally got him settled and realized that the two middle kids had been gone... and quiet... for way, way too long.

I asked Lexi... "Hey, so um, where are your sister and brother?"

She cheerily responded, "They're in your room!"

Uh oh. 

She ran off to investigate.  Thirty seconds later, "Mooooooooooooooooooom!  They took all of the clothes off the shelf!"

I sighed, knowing that I'd have reorganize the shelf they took apart.  But no biggie.

Then I got up and walked into the room. 

And this is what I found:

Of course, that meant the floor looked like this:

Every shelf emptied.  They were even innovative enough to get a stool for the top few shelves.  And it included dumping a bag full of recently outgrown clothes into the pile and MIXING THEM UP.  "We stirred them!  It's like soup!"

I dug through the pile, found some jammies, and got everyone in bed.

Then I collapsed on the couch and turned a movie on.  And my gaze traveled downward and landed on this:

 Those would be the pj's I sent C in to find.  The ones I put aside earlier in the evening.  The ones that were totally not on the shelf.  Any of the shelves, for that matter.

Of course.  (Murphey's Law of Parenting: Episode 1289)

Bedtime Prayers

Our usual bedtime routine with the kids goes something like this:

1. Girls in bed.
2. One of us (and sometimes Sayer too), will go in there to sing and chat with them for a few minutes. Then we leave them to chat together until they fall asleep.
3. One of us, (and the baby too if Shaun isn't home), heads to Sayer's room to hang with him til he drifts off.
4. Baby either put to sleep or put down if he's sleeping.

This only takes about 6 hours.

Not really.

Most nights.

Anyway, the other night, Sayer had finally nodded off as did Z, so I slipped out of his room to put Z down and snuggle up with my gigantic bowl of ice cream. But walking by the girls' room, I still heard talking. No one was screaming and it sounded remarkably amicable, so I decided to eavesdrop via the baby monitor.

They were chattering about baby dolls and the next day's plans.  Finally, Lex said, "Ok Caly, I'm tired. Let's go to sleep."

Of course, Contrary Mary Caly wasn't having much of that so she started to sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Loudly.  I started to head in to tell them to pipe down when Lex said excitedly, "Oh! Caly, let's PRAY!"

Caly said OK and immediately launched into the sing-song "Thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus... for our FOOOD... for our FOOOOOOOD. And our many blessings, and our many blessings... AAAAAAH-MEN. Ahhhhhh-MEN!" that they learned in church.  Lex waited patiently for her to finish and then said, "Ok, my turn!"

I turned the monitor up to catch her words, thinking she'd probably have something sweet to pray about.

"Dear God... Please make Caly be quiet. Amen."

There was actually a beat of silence.

And then, inevitably, a small voice started again, "Thank you Jesus..." and was quickly followed by, "Oh, CALY!"

(Sometimes I wonder if even God has the power to quiet that small ball of mischief).

Fuzzy Tacos... And Uh... Hi?

Hey there, remember me? Yup, I'm still alive.

And despite my absence in the blog world, my kids have still been doing ridiculous and funny things, so I've got my work cut out for me in catching up.

Most recently, we traveled to the LARGE state of Texas for a little family reunion action, long overdue friend time, and of course, copious amounts of good food. 

Towards the end of our trip, we visted a place called Fuzzy's Tacos.  The kids, being taco fans, were excited.  I, being a food fan, was elated.  Shaun, being a Mexican food fan, was hungry.

Caly (3), ususally our picky kid, was being oddly enthusiastic about this outing, "Mommy! Mommy! Are we at the fuzzy taco place?  Are we at Fuzzy's?" Over and over.

She asked to use the bathroom when we got there, (a habit that drives me bananas... what is it with kids needing to see every public restroom we visit?  Because she sure as heck didn't need to pee that bad).  While she was stalling, (haha, no pun intended.  I crack myself up), I said, "Ok Caly, we need to hurry up so you can eat your dinner."

"Yeah!  I'm gonna eat my taco!  And then I'm going to pet it!"

"What?"  Yes, I know I talk to my food and my kids occassionally follow suit, but we never um, pet it...  Caly looked up and said,

"My fuzzy taco!"

Ohhhhh...

"Er, Caly... the tacos aren't going to BE fuzzy... they're regular (delicious) tacos. Fuzzy's is just the name of the place."

She stared at me for a second while hiking up her drawers... then she said, "OHHHHHHHHHH!" rolled her eyes to the ceiling, grinned, shook her head and exclaimed, "Oh Mama, that's SO silly!"

Yes... yes it is.  But oh my, so is she.

By the way... Fuzzy's Tacos?  DELICIOUS. Feta cheese on a taco! Best idea ever.

Silly Kidlets

I'm having trouble forming coherent thoughts in the last few days... post Easter weekend exhaustion. But my kids? Yeah, they're not tired. And they're full of funny.

Two nights ago, I was snuggling with Sayer trying to wind him down for bed.  (As an aside: a friend said that the secret to getting her husband to sleep when he was a kid was to get him to stay still and stop talking. That is SO my kid).  Anyway, he would lay still for a few seconds at a time then start to wiggle and sing. At one point, he rolled towards me, veeeeeeeerrrrrry slowly and reached towards my face. I pretended to be resting to see what he was going to do. He gently pinched my cheek, then he brought his hand to his mouth and pretended to chew,

"Mmmm, more chicken?  Yup!"  Then he did it again. And again.  And then?  He rolled over and went to sleep. My sides hurt from trying not to laugh out loud. But hey, whatever works to get him to sleep!
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Right around Easter, the kids asked questions about the story and one of them requested the entire story of the life of Jesus, from Christmas, (his birthday), onward. The kids spontaneously decided to act it out.

Caly decided she wanted to play the part of baby Jesus. Which, of course, meant that baby Jesus needed... um, care...

"Maaaamaaa! I'm dirty! I need a diaper change!"

Lexi was horrified, "Caly! Baby Jesus did NOT poop in his pants!"

Heh.  They make me giggle.

Mom Secrets

So, my friend Amy at Flexible Dreams and another awesome blogger, Bella from Bella Before and After, are starting a movement to bring those little secrets of motherhood out from under the rug, (or from in the non-working microwave, or from that room in your house where you cram everything you can't find a place for).

So, in honor of the Real Moms, Real Laughs party, here's my list:

1.  I told my child today that if she asked me again for a band aid, I was going to find and eat the entire box. And leave none for her. Or the tiny cut on her foot.

2.  I managed to keep my children from doing anything ridiculously germy at the doc's office yesterday. That is, until I caught my second born licking the exam table from one end to the other. Goodbye health, hello plagues.

3.  I don't shower every day. Granted, my skin gets totally dry and gross if I do, but I have found on more than one occasion that I couldn't remember when my last shower actually was.  On one occasion, my oldest told me that I was a bit... smelly. I try to go for every other day. I try. In the winter, my kids bathe less than I do. Sorry if you meet us in person. We're the smelly kids.

4.  I have mastered the art of sleeping with children climbing all over me. I am not ashamed of this. In fact, I'm quite proud of the fact that I can completely keep tabs on all of my kids and catch a nap at the same time.

There you have it. My first list. I say first, because I'm positive there are others. But I need to go shower and prepare for the onslaught of germs that are going to befall our house due to wayward toddler licks.

Ew.

You Know She's My Daughter...

Those of you who've known me for a long time will especially appreciate this one.  Last Sunday, Caly joined the big kids in their class at church, (namely because the child is as stubborn as six hundred mules and charming as a thousand snuggly bunnies and managed to talk her way in to Miss Clare's class).  But by all accounts, she behaved, so no big deal there.

They played charades after a bit and she adapted the rules to suit herself.  When it came time for her to act her animal out, she started mooing.  So Clare guessed, "You're a cow!"

Caly grinned, leaned over with her mouth open and said, "I'm a man eating cow!" and proceeded to gnaw on Clare's arm.

Yes, yes... that's my kid.

Skype-tacular!

I admit it, I'm kind of behind the times on the whole Skype technology thing.  Which is sort of embarrassing.  I like technology.  I'm interested in new technology.  I like gadgets. Right, so anyway, with Shaun traveling randomly, or even working weird hours, we decided to start using Skype as a good way for the kids to get some face time with Daddy before bed.  The other night, we had our first test.

The kids, as expected, were completely awestruck.  Our biggest problem was their fight to be the person in front.  You know that game you played as a kid where you alternate your hands in a stack and take turns pulling your hand out of the bottom and smacking it on top of the pile?  Yeah, it was like that.  With heads.

But I gradually convinced them that they all could, in fact, fit on the screen view if they would just back the heck up and sit nicely.  They backed up.  They were still climbing over each other like spider monkeys.  They'll get to the sitting nicely thing.  When they're in their 30s.  

So, they had their fun chatting with Daddy and we said goodnight and closed my laptop.

Sayer promptly flipped right on out.  "DAAAAAAAADDDDDDDYYYY!  DAAAAAAADDDDYYY!"  The boy was royally peeved that his beloved Daddy dared disappear before he was ready.

So, I did what any sane mother would do before bedtime.  I opened the laptop again and called Shaun back. He was surprised to hear from me.  Sayer practically fell over with delight when Shaun came back on the screen, "DADDY!!  HI DADDY!"  So Shaun made small talk for a minute, said goodnight and then he quickly brought his hand up to the camera so the screen went dark.  Sayer said, "Daddy?"  Caly was silent and Lexi... well, you can't fool Lexi.  After a beat, she shouted,

"Daddddddy!  Move your big old hand!  We can't see you!"

Shaun started laughing, which made Sayer yell for him again, and so we had to start over.  But eventually, goodnights were said, we let Sayer shut the lid, (because letting him have a modicum of control works major miracles), and I hustled three giddy kids off to dreamland.

Ah, technology.  Not sure what I'm going to do when Sayer tries to dive through the screen, but for now?  Works just fine.

The "Lovey" Conundrum

I'm a big believer in the "lovey"...  You know, the random object that your kid latches onto and then can't be without during sleeping hours, (and some awake hours!) for most of their early childhood years?  Yeah, that.

(Though when I put it that way...)

Anyway, I love that my kids love me, but I've always wanted them to have an object of comfort that they could cuddle also. Lex, now almost 5, has had the same little blanket since she was born... Remarkably, we've never lost it for more than a few hours, (which is good since they stopped making it by the time she latched onto it...   and have you SEEN the price for those out of circulation blanket things on Ebay?! Craziness!  But I'd have paid).  She's since added a second, similar blanket and sleeps with them both.  Normal, you know?

So, seeing the success of Lex and her "night-night," we decided to introduce one for Caly when she was a baby.  This time, knowing how random the attachments could be, we guided the process a bit.  We chose one of these cute blankets and added another just in case.  In the course of her life, we've purchased 4, lost 3, and found 2...  so the kid now has FIVE of these blankets.  And insists on using ALL of them every night.  (And they're all different animals).  Bedtime is easy, so long as Monkey, Giraffe, Bear, Duck and Bunny are in bed with her.  Slightly weird, but again, not bad.

Now, Sayer.  Oh man.  I TRIED to get that kid to take a lovey. I gave him his choice like we did with Lex...  I held soft blankets while nursing like I did with Caly... But apparently, *I* was his lovey.  And he was quite content with that.  Considering that I most often nursed him to sleep, that worked out fine for the most part.  But then when he weaned, things got a little strange.  He was old enough to ask for things or to run and get them, and would frequently climb into my lap to be rocked with weird objects.  Balls... plastic figurines... nasal aspirators, (yes, that happened...  for like a week, he wanted to fall asleep with one in each hand).

Weird.

As he got older, he got way more vocal about what he wanted.  For a time, he had this strange looking baby doll, ("BABY!") that he demanded.  Then he moved onto stuffed animals.  Occasionally, he'd want to snuggle with a book.  Or a sippy cup.  Sometimes it'd be an article of clothing, like a sock. It was generally whatever happened to be in his hands before bedtime.  But it was always something.

But yesterday, things got a little hairy.  He had somehow procured the sound pad from one of those Play-A-Sound books... an Elmo one.  And every single time Shaun tried to get it away from him, he screamed like someone was pinching him.  So Shaun shrugged his shoulders and picked Sayer up to rock him, the sound pad clutched in one chubby toddler fist and a sippy cup of water in the other.

Now, not a big deal, you'd think.  But it's amazing how utterly obnoxious Elmo can be when he's cackling in YOUR SLEEPING CHILD'S EAR and causing him to WAKE UP.  Yeah.  So we had a predicament.  Take it away, and pretty much guarantee a big wake up and a screaming fit or take the chance that he would sleep through any rogue Elmo mutterings and slip it out of his hands when he lay soundly asleep.

We opted for the latter, but not without penalty...  Elmo and his evil energetic chatter roused the toddler twice but he was quickly settled.  Before we went to bed, I snuck in and slipped the offending sound pad from under his arm.

Now... now I'm sure to steer him towards softer and quieter items before bedtime... and though I'm still hoping for a conventional lovey...  I'm not holding my breath.

Snippets from the 'Ville

Lex (4) woke up yesterday, tiptoed into the living room where Shaun was hanging with Sayer (1) and exclaimed, 

"Daddy!  Last night I actually slept!  I mean, normally, I just close my eyes and pretend to sleep, but last night, I actually slept!  I don't know what happened!" 

Hmm, maybe the Monday crankies are due to all of that pretend sleeping she does.  

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Caly (2) has been fighting off a little cold that's making her nose run.  No other real symptoms, but the snot bugs her. Generally, she asks for a tissue and wipes her nose herself.  Before bed the other night, I went to pick her up to take her to bed and she wrapped her arms around my legs and gave me a hug.  I smiled at how sweet it was.  Then she let go, looked seriously at my stomach and said, 

"Mama, I put boogers on your baby."  

Then she walked away.

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Sayer (1) has learned a new word.  Well, he's known the word for awhile, but he uses it with a vengeance lately.  I'm becoming impressed with the versatility of his uses 

"No!"  "NO."  NOOOOOOO." "No?" "Nononononono!"

But my favorite, (yes, there is a favorite way to use the word), is when I ask him where my kisses are.  Instead of leaning towards me with a smooch, he tucks his chin inward, turns his head away, and with a smirk on his face, he says, "Noooooooooo..."  I pretend to be sad and he plants one right on my cheek.  Then he asks to do it again.  

Cuteness.

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"Mommy.  Mommy.  MOOOMMMMY!"  I vaguely registered Caly's whisper near my ear.  Bleary eyed, I peered at her in the darkness and wondered what dark hour of the night she had wiggled her way in between us.  "MOMMY!  Are you s'eeping?"  

I gave her a raised eyebrow and said, "Well, I WAS.  What's the matter?"  She wiggled closer to me, got her blanket and closed her eyes.  "Caly, what's the matter?"  

"Mama.  I am S'EEPING!"   And then she refused to say another word. 

I am SO paying her back when she's a teenager.  

New Year's Resolutions

Everyone's doing it...  who am I to run away from the bandwagon?

So here's my resolutions, in true Looneyville style:

1.  I will say yes more often.  My kids are kids.  They ask for things.  They ask to do things.  They ask to eat things.  Sometimes I say yes but many times I say no.  I'm going to say yes more.  But I still reserve my right to say no when they're asking to paint their room with chocolate sauce.  Lex, if you're reading this?  NO.  It's still not going to happen.

2.  I will get rid of stuff.  My kids have more toys than a dang toy store.  I have a fairly good system of rotation which gives them "new" things to play with every couple of months, but then there are those things that they hold up with two fingers and an upturned nose and say, "Momma?  What IS this?!"  I don't know.  But I do know it can go away.  Far away.  I could probably stand to lose a few pairs of shoes and about 16 thousand pounds of paper.  

3.  We will go outside more often.  Because fresh air is quite good for little bodies.  And when they're outside, they're not destroying the inside of my house.  Preservation: it's what's cool for the new year.  

4.  I will help the girls do more crafts.  They love crafts. I mostly hate them, (at least for the preschool set).  But we'll do more.  And then?  I'll have them gift the completed projects to relatives.  You can thank me now. Or later.  You're welcome.  (And I won't be drowning in 17 macaroni sculptures, countless finger-paintings, piles of coloring pages and various cotton ball creations.  Self, you're welcome too).  

I'm sure I'll think of more.  But I think with the new baby boy coming in March, it's smart to leave off things like, "I will get out of my PJ's at least 3 days a week" and "I won't pretend not to notice when the kids are emptying the kitchen cabinets."  I'll stick with these for now.

Happy New Year, friends!  What's your resolution?

I'd resolve for more snow and icicles, but I'm afraid that's beyond my control, sadly.  Sorry teacher (and student!) friends!

Surrender

I think when you're handed your kid for the first time, you inadvertently sign a contract that waives your rights to certain privileges for all occasions in the  foreseeable future.

1.  Personal Space - From the beginning, small children thrive when invading your personal space.  Your baby wants to be held?  He or she has NO qualms squealing until you pick them up and snuggle them.  This is why babies are cute.  So we don't mind the invasion so much.  Then they get bigger and gain this weird need to try to climb back into your body.  Or at least that's what you assume they're doing as they jockey for space on your head.

2.  Your Right to be Alone in the Bathroom - You will rarely, if ever, go to the bathroom without a little person "keeping you compa-dee" or at the very least, pounding on the door and little fingers sticking things under the cracks.  Efforts to instill a barrier with the lock will result in at least one of your children becoming a stellar locksmith.

3.  Regular Showers - Remember the days when you showered every morning or every evening?  Remember when you didn't feel the need to lean your face down for a covert sniff to see if you're passable for public interaction?  Yeah, me neither.  Also, if you manage to get a shower, don't expect to complete it without a little face snatching back the curtain, peering in, and saying, "Mama?  Whatcho doing?"

4.  Eating Your Whole Plate of Food, By YOURSELF - You can serve the exact same dinner on two plates, giving one to your child and keeping one for yourself and every single time, you'll find your child eying your plate up and saying, "Mommy?  I want a bite of YOUR food!"  It's even worse when you try to eat something different than what they have.  Never mind that they have formerly professed their undying hatred of broccoli. If it's on your plate, it's suddenly as appetizing as a candy bar.  But obviously, forget using this to get your kids to eat vegetables.  They'll see through your plan in a hot second.

5.  White Clothing Items/Dressy Clothes- I think this is a no-brainer.  You can only fend off sticky fingers for so long.  And if you manage to get dressed to go out, you'll lean down to give your kid a hug and they'll do one of the following:  a) Throw-up on you.  b) Wipe boogers on you.  c) Have a marker in hand when they hug you.  Etc.

"But I wanna HUG, Mama!"

It's a darn good thing they're so cute.

Christmas Card Rejects - Episode 1

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!

Ferocious

Certain things that my kids do drive me nuts.  For instance, my oldest freaks out when I have to cut her toenails.  For the record, I've never once, not even when she was a baby, cut her or made her bleed.  (Now, the other kids... )

Anyway, she'll reluctantly give me her foot and then freak out and jerk it away right before I clip the toenail.  It's worse when she's tired.  (Which is when I always get the notion to cut her nails...  Apparently, I like a challenge). 

The other day, I called her into the bathroom, having noticed that her toes were beginning to resemble talons instead of sweet little girl feet.  She slunk into the room and gave me a look as she ever-so-slowly brought her foot up to my lap.  I held onto it, grabbed the clippers, and made a motion to go toward clipping her big toenail.  Just as the clipper touched her toe, she jerked her whole foot back and started whimpering.  "I don't WANNNNA have you cut my toooooenaaaaails!"  I gave her a look and told her to give me her foot.

And repeat. 

After 3 or 4 more times, I was completely exasperated.  I dropped my voice to a fierce whisper, looked at her and said, "LEXI. GIVE. ME. YOUR. FOOT. RIGHT. NOW!  If you keep jerking it away, I'm going to end up cutting your toe off!  NOW GIVE ME YOUR FOOT!"

We stared at each other for a split second before she dropped into a crouch, balled her hands into fists and hissed, "NEVER!" at me while punching a hand into the air.  She totally looked like William Wallace, "You can take my toenails, but you'll never TAKE MY FREEDOM!"

The whole effect was so ridiculous that I burst into peels of laughter. 

So did she. 

The nail cutting went slightly more smoothly after that.  Slightly.  At the very least, she found a way to diffuse my temper and get herself out of trouble.  Because I laugh every single time. 

Sick Days - A Comparative View

Sick Days When You're a Sick Kid - Cartoons for you for as long as you can stay awake
Sick Days When You're a Sick Parent - Cartoons for the kids as long as they'll stay still.

Sick Days When You're a Sick Kid - Naps under your favorite blanket while Mom or Dad brings you cool drinks for when you wake up. 
Sick Days When You're a Sick Adult -Flopping on the couch trying to close your eyes while little people pester you to get them a drink.


Sick Days When You're a Sick Kid - A possible trip to the doctor to be sure it's nothing serious.
Sick Days When You're a Sick Parent - You gauge whether you're urge to keel over and die is greater than the hassle of finding a babysitter so you can go to the doctor's.

Sick Days When You're a Sick Kid - Sympathy, comfort, and some doctoring from Mom and Dad.
Sick Days When You're a Sick Parent -Being "doctored" by your concerned kids.  Generally involves being poked in the eyes, ears and mouth, being stepped on, crawled over, and smooshed.

I think the greatest thing Obamacare should have included was a sick day plan for parents. 

These Actually Came Out of My Mouth

"Please do not put the toilet seat on your head."

"Um, no, I don't think ducks have b00bies"

"Boogers will not help you grow like broccoli will.  Even if they are both green."

"I am TOTALLY going to take away your peas if you don't stop....  OK, I'm taking them!  You're ok with that?  Crap." 

"If you don't stop all that noise and go to sleep, I'm going to put you outside with the bears!"

And they say being a parent is boring.  Hah.

Americana

Snowballs...

Silly faces...

And so excited to see the fireworks that Mama was the one having to keep up.

(Poor Sayer... he was on me... no pictures of him. Cobbler's kids or something like that...)

*this was for you, Robin :)

Summer

Oh gracious... I need to stop apologizing for my lack of blogging then promising that I'll blog more frequently.  Because really, people...  it's summer.  And in the summer, we're doing a lot of this:

And some of this

And this too

So...  I'll blog when I can... and when I'm not?  I'll be having fun with the kidlets.  Because it's summer.  :)

Kid Words

My kids are getting older.  And speaking more clearly. And as a result?  They're losing those funny little pronunciations of words that have always, always made me smile. 

(And quite honestly, some of them I won't correct because I love hearing them so much.  Farshfellows?  Yes, please).

Here's a compilation of a few of my favorites from the girls:

"Farshfellow" - Marshmallow
"Ma-lay-na"  - Banana
"M L M's" - "M&Ms
"Forseys" - Horseys
"Pollypop" - Lollipop
"Dinoroar" - Dinosaur
"Bap" - Bath
"Goggie" - Doggie
"Rawberries" - Strawberries

Sayer also has his own:

"Mama" - Feed me, hold me, snuggle me, play with me, NOW
"DADA!" - Daddy!  Yay!  DAAAADDDYY!
"EEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAEEEE" - Everything else :)

The I Am Nots

I find myself saying the weirdest things throughout the day.  Interestingly, most derive from having to explain to my children that while, yes, I am a super hero akin to Inspector Gadget, I am certainly not [insert whatever role they're trying to pin on me at the time] thankyouverymuch.

Heard in the Looney House in the past 24 hours:

• I am not a chew toy. Please stop gnawing on me.
• I am not a trampoline. You're not going to bounce very high.
• I am not made of glue. That paper is not going to stick to my face, I promise.
• I am not magic.  The pretzels are gone.  Like, really gone.  I can't make them come back.
• I am not a mind reader.  Please stop shrieking and tell me what you need.
• I am not a plant.  Pouring water on my head will not make me grow.
• I am not a Sherpa.  Please, please carry your own shoes.  And walk.
• I am not blind.  I totally saw you wack your sister in the head with a spoon.

(And these weird things don't even take into account the "Don't lick the dishwasher," "Please get your hair out of your nostrils," and "No, you may not serve yourself cereal in your shoe" comments that roll out daily, too).

Being a Mom is certainly never boring.