It's a Lifestyle

My kids caught the end of iCarly the other day and apparently there was some exchange of dialogue where one character says, "It's just a stupid game" and the next character says, "It's not a game, it's a lifestyle." Well, our 3 year old son has now applied that phrase to EVERYTHING. Anything he is playing is now "not a game, it's a lifestyle."

He was playing with his superheroes the other day and I asked him what game he was playing with them. He looks at me very seriously and says, "Mom, it's not a game. It's a lifestyle."

Riiiight.

MLK, Jr. Goes to South Park

Our daughter, who is in Kindergarten, came home from School on Friday with this picture. She made it in class and was incredibly proud as she explained, "Martin Luther King Jr. is a Jr. because his dad was named Martin Luther King. He's important because he said that people look different on the outside but we're all the same on the inside. And he had a wish (I think she meant a dream). So, I made this picture. He's really considered black but he looks kinda brownish so I used brown paper. Plus if I used black, his suit is black too, and you wouldn't be able to really see him."

My husband says it looks like a South Park character. Since he has said that neither one of us can stop laughing (only when aforementioned daughter is well out of ear shot).

So what do you think? South Park?

Random Conversations that Make Me Laugh

* My daughter has a girl in her gymnastics class named Elizabeth. My daughter informs her teacher today that she has a doll at home named Elizabeth also. The teacher says, "Well, is your doll as pretty as this Elizabeth here?" My daughter replies, "Yes, my doll is much prettier." While I may need to have a discussion about tact with my daughter I am thinking this particular teacher should apply the same "rule" lawyers use and never ask a question that you don't already know the answer to.

* I was cleaning out my daughter's room the other day and moving furniture so we could clean our carpets. I said, "You just have way too many toys." She says in response, "Well, why did you buy me all these toys then?" I thought for a moment and said, "That's a good question." She says, "Well, maybe you just shouldn't have bought me so many." Hard to argue with that logic.

* Out of the blue my daughter asks if having your tubes tied hurts. (For starters I don't have my tubes tied so I have no clue and secondly I have no idea where she would have ever even heard about having your tubes tied). I said, "No, I don't really think so but where did you hear about that?" My daughter says, "I just read about it on my computer. Like on Facebook."

* The other day when driving my daughter says, "Mom, is our new baby going to be black or white?" I said, "Well, she's going to be white just like you and your brother and mommy and daddy." She was silent and I said, "Why do you ask?" She says, "Well, it would be weird to have a black baby since we're not black." Indeed! I think my husband would have quite a few questions if I birthed a baby any color other than pasty white.

* At the grocery store the other day an older woman says, "Oh, your kids are so cute. How old are they?" I replied, "Thanks. They're 4 and 2." She looks at them again and says, "Are they twins?"

Kids Say the Darndest Things

**This weekend my son was repeating the word "idiot". I stopped him and told him that we don't say that because it is not a nice word and that no one in our house was an idiot. He said, "But some people are." I started to say, "No, people aren't idiots" to which my son again said, "Some people are" at which point my daughter chimes in, "Yeah, like the people you honk at." Apparently, when I honk the horn I mumble "idiot" under my breath. Looks like that bad habit is going to have to stop.

**The Jehovah's Witnesses are regular fixtures in our neighborhood and once again this past Friday two JW's came knocking at our door. I opened it up and as one of the women wanted to "share the good news" my daughter peeks around the corner and says, "We already know about Jesus." I'm thinking I might start letting her answer the door from now on.

My Booming Baritone Boy

The general noise that children make never really bothers me. I've gotten to a point where I tune most of it out, whether it is from my own children or others. The chattering, squeals, laughter, etc. is just part of the soundtrack of my life right now.

However, my son has no volume control. Everything is LOUD. And not just occasionally loud, but constantly at a level that probably doesn't register on any measurable scale. It is like he is constantly screaming at the top of his lungs, but doesn't realize it. It's his normal volume. He has a voice that is deceivingly deep for his 2 1/2 years of age and so half the time our house is BOOMING about EVERYTHING. His conversations with himself, with his sister, with his toys and stuffed animals. It is a constant, non-stop, running monologue that lasts every waking hour of every single day.

Lately, this has just about sent me over the edge. It started out as an occasional thing, but over the past month or so it has become his norm and nothing we say or do changes that. He's not doing it to be bad, disobedient, or annoying. When I finally snap, usually once a day, and tell him to stop he rarely realizes what he is doing. (Other times, the little demon that he is, he fully realizes it and does it solely for a reaction; this I realize). Our downstairs, where we spend most of the day, is all ceramic tile and as a result makes him sound even louder and harder on the ears than he probably really is.

Honestly, I'm about ready to start wearing earplugs, tune them out, and just hope they are able to get through the day without hurting themselves or each other. Any thoughts? Do you think this is something he will outgrow or is he destined to be one of those kids who can be heard in the next zip code?

Venus and Mars Part II

The difference between girls and boys? Decorating the Christmas tree I gave each child a handful of tinsel and showed them both how to put it on. My daughter carefully and diligently pulls single strand by single strand out of her handful and carefully applies each evenly to the tree. My son takes two handfuls, throws it on the tree, stands back with his hands on his hips, admiring his work and says, "Perfect."

Venus and Mars

Some of the behaviors I love most about my son are also some of the same things that drive me crazy. He is such a free spirit and while I admire the independence the stubborn streak and at times just outward defiance is frustrating and embarrassing.

He is one of the sweetest, most sensitive and affectionate little boys. He tells me fifty times a day how much he loves me. If I leave the room, when I come back he tells me how much he missed me. He's full of hugs and kisses and he's like this way with his sister, his father, his grandparents, and his "favorite" cousin. I love this about him and can't get enough.

So, it's amazing how this same little boy can be filled with such a mischievous streak (and that's putting it nicely). It's not that he's mean-spirited at all. He just pushes the envelop as far as he can and truthfully consequences mean nothing to him. It's almost as if he weighs the options in his head before he does it and then does it anyway. I swear he's thinking, "I know if I hit my sister and then run away from my mom I am going to get in trouble, but it's worth it to know I upset my sister and my mom." Or, "I know my mom is going to be upset if I run away and hide from her in the store, but it's funny to see her panic thinking she lost me, so I'm going to do it anyway." The thing is that a lot of the behavior is not discipline-worthy, just frustrating. Example: trying on shoes and trying to make sure they fit and instead he puts the shoebox on his head and takes off dancing down the aisle saying, "The box is my hat."

I love that he's funny and can make anyone laugh and I love that he knows that he is funny. He performs for the reaction. But at the same time I am graying by the minute. He's a wonderful child and in truth, I'd take ten more just like him but he is such a boy and I mean that in the best possible way. I love having a daughter and I love having a son. I love them the same amount, but it's a different relationship with each. There are things that are specific to them that need nurturing and attention and boys and girls are just, by nature, so incredibly and wonderfully different. Nothing points that out more clearly than healthy, hyper little boys.

I want my son to be kind, compassionate, sensitive, caring and attentive. Those are qualities that I feel will one day make him a great husband and father. But I also want my son to be manly, rugged, rough, independent, and self-reliant. There's a tendency in our society to squash some of that natural beauty that is inherent in boys. You see it in school systems especially. They, at times, try to make boys into girls ( I mean that in a behavioral sense in that girls statistically have a longer attention span, are not as physical, etc.). So, I try to walk a fine line between disciplining him for inappropriate behavior but also letting him bask in his natural maleness (as I refer to it and as my husband mocks me for). Sometimes I get it wrong and let him bask when he should be disciplined and vice versa, but it's a learning process.

What were some of your children's most frustrating qualities or behaviors that also happened to be some of their most admirable?

Elf on the Shelf

All holidays are pretty big in our house. We make a big deal so that the kids enjoy it and really feel like they are in the spirit of each holiday. As such, like most, we have encouraged their belief in Santa Claus (I realize some don't because they think it's tantamount to lying to their kids, but whatever...we do). Both accepted this pretty easily because hey, what's the complaint when some fat, jolly dude is going to bring you presents?

About a week ago I started talking to my daughter about Elf on the Shelf. The general idea is that one of Santa's helpers, the elf, sits on your shelf in the weeks leading up to Christmas, watching and then reporting back to Santa about whether your behavior has been good or bad. That night, the diligent parents, hide the elf in a new location for the kids to find the next morning and the myth continues. I thought this might be something the kids would really get excited about.

My daughter's first words were, "It's a stuffed elf right?"
Me: Right
Daughter: So, it can't talk.
Me: Well, it magically comes alive at night and can talk to Santa.
Daughter: But if it's a stuffed animal it can't talk. It can't just come alive. It's pretend.
Me: Uh, well this is a special, magical, elf...yada yada yada

Pretty soon I had concocted this new entire story about the elf. All the while my daughter sat there looking at me like I had lost my marbles. She finally interrupted me and said, 'Yeah, I don't think so, mom." Apparently, this elf is just a bit too far fetched for her. She's good to go on Santa, though.

Why Children Don't Name Siblings

My sister is halfway through another pregnancy and the sudden topic of babies, surprisingly has my daughter begging for another brother or sister. This is a complete turn around as for most of her life she has been pretty adamant about not wanting another baby in this house. She insists she'll help rock it, change its diapers, take care of it, etc. Which, truthfully, she probably would.

Yesterday I was telling her what my sister was going to name the baby. Her response to the girl's name? "Ooh, no I do not like that name at all." Her response to the boy's name? "Oh, I like that name." She then shared her ideas for what I could name a baby when we have another one. Her girl's idea is Sunshine Flower (uh, not thinking so). For a boy she is torn between Sebastian and Otis.

I seriously have no clue where she came up with these and she'll probably be upset if we don't use them. (I actually like Sebastian, but my husband says no way). While she and her brother both have "unique" names they aren't strange or out there or wholly uncommon, although my daughter's is a traditional Irish name and not as popular here, so I am not entirely sure where some of these "different" names originated from.

So, what do you think? Could you imagine calling your child Sunshine Flower or Otis?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

One of the best things about being a parent is listening to all of the funny, crazy, outlandish things kids say. In lieu of an actual post today I'll share with you a couple of things my kids have said lately that have made me laugh.

My daughter, 4 years old, says, "Mommy you are beautiful, but you stink." (In my defense I was on my way to the shower as she said that).

My son, 2 years old, was chasing me around the house whacking my backside. I said, "Why are you hitting mommy?" He replies, "Cuz, I'm a boy."

I am so frustrated with our dog that the other day I said, "I just want to give rid of that dog." My son says, "But mama, I love that dog."

My kids have been sick and my son took my daughter's cup and started drinking out of it. My daughter ran to the phone, called my husband at work, and cried into the phone, "But daddy, he got his sick germs all over my cup."

My daughter's favorite Halloween candy was Butterfingers, or as she calls them "Buttery fingers" as in "Yum, I sure love buttery fingers."

After serving my kids breakfast in bed one day this morning my daughter pointed out that it was just like room service at the hotel and capped it off with, "And you know I just LOOOOOOOVE room service."

My son's hair is getting pretty long. My husband and I want to grow it out, but I thought I'd ask him if he wanted a haircut. He says, "No, long and wild like the Beast" (from Beauty and the Beast) His other answer when asked this question is, "No, put it in a pony-tie" (his combo work for pony tail and hair tie).

A woman in the mall was wearing a half top with her belly exposed. My son walked up to her, lifted his shirt, patted his stomach and said proudly, "My belly." She was not amused.

Passing by a section of homes that were pretty run down my daughter says, "That house is quite dilapidated. They really need to spruce it up a bit."

I promise that at least one day this week I'll have a "real" post.

Bathroom Humor

I have this thing about public bathrooms. Like I hate them. I think they are disgustingly dirty germ contraptions and unless I am about to literally explode I will not use them. So, making sure we all use the bathroom before we ever leave the house is a huge ordeal. It's like, "You better make sure you go now because you don't want to have to use a public bathroom" and it is said with the same disdain that the less informed and less rational among us say, "You better be good and never make Jesus mad because you don't want to have to go to public school." (Disclaimer: I am NOT one of those people).

Anyway, I digress.... My point is that public restrooms are to be avoided at all costs. This line of thought has been instilled in my children, more specifically my daughter. She would rather hold it for days, weeks, possibly months before she'd step foot in a public bathroom. I kid you not.

On the rare occasion she just has to pee bad enough she'll go in, check it out, and if it is acceptable enough she may consider it. Under those circumstances she will then promptly shower when we arrive back home to rid herself of the nasty public bathroom germs. They are a special breed of germs, you know. However, 99 percent of the time she says, "Um, no. This is a disgusting public bathroom. I will not go in here."

So, tonight my husband is running around the living room chasing the kids and every once in a while he'd stop suddenly, back his rear end up, shake it and the kids would run into it face first (Yes, sounds thrilling....it's what passes for fun in our house). He does this to our son who thinks it is hilarious.

Then he does it to our daughter. Hilarious? Not so much. Her exact words were, "Dad, you use disgusting public bathrooms. Your bottom has public bathroom germs. Do not put that by my face." She was dead serious. This kid is hardcore.

Moobs

This morning my daughter tells my shirtless husband that he needs to put a shirt on. She says, "Dad you need to put your boobs in a shirt."

For the record, my husband does not have moobs.**

**Moob-less husband wanted to make sure that was made clear

Giddyup

I chewed through my leash this evening and ran a couple of errands by myself while my husband was putting the kids to bed. On the way home I thought I'd stop and get my husband and I something to eat. There is this local Mexican place called Nico's that has a bit of a cult following. It's "fast" Mexican food, but still authentic. As their popularity has grown they have opened more locations throughout town. It's open crazy hours and attracts a wide-range of clientele from prominent local business men and women to drunk college students hungry after clubbing all night.

Tonight as I pulled into the parking lot I saw in the distance what I thought were horses. As I got closer I realized they were totally horses. Parked. In the handicap parking. Tied to the handicap sign.

I couldn't help myself. I was hysterical. I don't know why I found this so funny. Something about riding a horse to a restaurant. Parking in an actual parking space. The handicap space no less. I called my husband and then my mom and we were all dying. I had to compose myself before I could get out of the car so the owners wouldn't hear my mockery. I walked up and struck up a conversation. Turns out they ride their horse to Walgreen too. Seriously?

Only in Tucson.....

Man Parts

My son has figured out how to pull his "man parts" out of his fly on his underwear. My daughter is equally impressed and duly proud of his accomplishment. My father, who was in town this weekend, came by to see the kids. Apparently, when they were upstairs my daughter explained to my dad that her brother can pull his penis out of his fly. She continued by saying, "But my daddy can't pull his out of his underwear."

I guess the fact that my husband keeps his privates private is a good thing or else we'd have my daughter running around telling everyone that he pulls his penis out of his underwear.

Baby on Brain

A couple different sets of friends of our recently had babies. Like within the same week. Within this same time span we have had three separate announcements from others that they were with child. This is a lot of reproducing going on.

Suddenly, my four year old daughter is OBSESSED with me having another baby. We have gone, in the mere matter of days, from her telling me I should never, ever under any circumstance have another baby to her practically charting when I'll be ovulating for the next six months.

Every morning she wakes up and says, "Are you pregnant yet?" Or, "Is there a baby growing inside your tummy yet?" Every day. Multiple times a day. Did I mention everyday?

This morning, after sitting through breakfast while she quizzed me on whether or not I was pregnant yet, I said, "See this little pill that mommy takes? This makes sure that mommy doesn't have another baby right now." She responded by suggesting, "How about you just don't take those anymore. Then you can have a baby."

Don't get me wrong. I am not opposed to having another child and in all honesty if we do decide to have a third it probably won't be that far down the road. However, it's not happening right this second as my daughter would apparently like. Nor would I be advertising to my four year old we were even trying to get pregnant.

I think the factor that swayed her was when she looked at me earnestly one day about two weeks ago and asked, "If you have another baby, can I boss it around?" I said, "Well, I'm sure you'll boss a new baby around the same way you boss your brother around." She looked very contemplative for a few minutes and then decidedly said, "Well, then you can have another baby. I want you to."

So, there you have it. I guess that settles it.

Untitled

Some friends of ours are heading home with their new baby this weekend. I was looking at pictures of him on the computer when my children walked in and asked whose baby it was. I began telling them when my daughter interrupted asking whether or not I was going to have another baby. (Let's just say it was a very rough adjustment for her bringing her younger brother home, so I don't think she was asking in hopeful anticipation of another sibling). I responded by asking them if they wanted another brother or sister. Before my daughter could answer my two year old son adamantly said, "No, I'm mama's baby. Bad new baby."

This led to the conversation about how they could help with a new baby. My daughter asked, "Would this baby live here with us?" I said, "Of course he/she would." My son started shaking his head furiously chanting, "No, no, no, no" while my daughter thought for a moment and said, "Can't the baby just go live with grandma instead?"

The Look of Youth

We were driving in the car today and I was looking in the visor mirror. I scrunched up my face and noticed a few "wrinkles" around my eyes when I did that.

Me: Look at these wrinkles (then I turned to my husband and scrunched up my face).
Hubby: Those aren't wrinkles, but anyone making that face is bound to have some lines.
Me: They are wrinkles.
Hubby: Seriously, when do you ever make that face?
Me: I don't know, but if and when I do people are going to notice that I have wrinkles.
Hubby: Yeah, okay.
Me: It's sad because I am losing my youthful, vibrant, full of life look and it's being slowly replaced by the look of someone old, haggard, and wrinkled.
Hubby: Says the woman who was just carded at the grocery store while buying alcohol.
Me: I'm just sayin'. And, look here at my temple. Is that gray?
Hubby: That is not gray. That's blonde.
Me: Are you sure?
Hubby: You have dirty blonde hair. That's the color of your hair. It's not gray.
Me: If it ever goes gray I am dying my hair.
Hubby: No one is even gray in your family. I don't think you have to worry.
Me: My grandma is.
Hubby: She's 81.
Me: Well, that's not too far away
Hubby: 50 years isn't far away? Okay, I'm not having this conversation anymore. You are not gray, you do not have wrinkles, and you don't look haggard. You look 12.

Where I Rethink the Wisdom of Giving a Two Year Old Golf Clubs

I really wanted to get my son golf clubs for Christmas. He'll be 2 1/2 then and I thought it would be cute for him to be able to go to the driving range with my husband. He has a little plastic set that he plays with and is pretty coordinated. So, I've been looking around and pricing clubs, not wanting to spend too much since I am figuring he won't stay his cute 2 1/2 sized self for long.

Then suddenly, as if the gods could sense the disaster I was about to create, he started using everything as a weapon....and I mean everything. His Nerf bat, his utensils, the mop, the broom, his plastic picker upper, his plastic hammer, his rake and shovel. The list really could go on for days. He chases his sister down and hits her with these things...sometimes out of anger, other times just for fun.

All this hitting has made me reconsider the golf club idea. Somehow I just don't see any good coming from his holy hellion self being in possession of something much heavier and more capable of inflicting injury to members of his family. Now I need a new idea for Christmas and a new sport for which to groom him. Any suggestions?

When I Think About You I Touch Myself or Something Like That

We went out for lunch today and my son was sitting next to me in the booth. In typical fashion he cannot sit still so he is climbing on me, leaning on me, pulling on me, and altogether just constantly touching me. I'm fairly used to it but it started to drive me crazy as I was trying to eat. So, I told him to sit down and just not touch me. My daughter, very loudly, says, "Hey, you can just sit there and touch yourself." My husband and I glance at each other as she continues, "Mommy, you can touch yourself too and daddy you can go and touch yourself too, but you can't touch mommy or my brother. You all can just go and touch yourselves."

It gave the waitress and the older couple at the table next to ours a good laugh.

On the Prowl

My son has an obsession, like most typical boys, with things like dinosaurs, cars, trains, trucks, and motorcycles. To say he likes these things is an understatement. He goes nuts over them, insisting that I follow them. The most recent interest is with trash trucks and motorcycles. Anytime we see one, which is surprisingly quite a bit, he insists I follow until we can get close enough for him to get a good look. I'm becoming very friendly with our neighborhood garbage man. I would not be surprised if he takes out a restraining order.

Recently, we have had the good fortune of ending up at many stop lights right next to motorcycles. The odds of this happening with such frequency would seemingly be against us. Each time I find myself rolling down my son's back window so he can get a closer look. I then feel compelled to roll down either my window or the passenger window and yell at the top of my lungs so I can be heard over the engine, "My son likes your bike" at which point each biker revs his engine, much to my son's delight.

I think I might be getting a reputation around town though as the lady who uses her kids to try to pick up bikers. "Suuuuuure, your son likes my bike lady."