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Showing posts with label siblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label siblings. Show all posts

Monday, June 13, 2011

If you ever watch my kids, you should know. . .

June 22nd The Dada and I celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary.  We are celebrating early, and going away this weekend.  This is HUGE for us, we haven’t been away overnight without kids in years.  To give you an idea how long its been- last time we went away, we only had 2 kids. 

I am fortunate enough to have my mom living close by, and also fortunate enough that she’s agreed to stay at my house for the weekend and watch my fab-five.  In preparation for her arrival, I’ve put together a list for her. 

Dear mom, thank you so much for agreeing to watch the kids this weekend.  Here’s a list of things that may help you out:

  • You will want to take a really good shower Thursday evening as there’s a distinct possibility you won’t have a chance to take another until you go home on Sunday. 
  • When CamCam sees people with crazy hair, he likes to cut it.
  • “Little Hurricane” no longer asks CamCam to let him out the front door.  He can do this for himself now.
  • On Thursday I will dust, vacuum, mop, catch up on dishes and catch up on laundry to prepare for your arrival.  On Friday morning it will look like I didn’t do a darn thing.  No real advice here, just a warning.
  • If you hear the words “puppy walk” come out of CamCam’s mouth, be on alert- this means he’s going to get his stuffed dog and walk to the end of the road by himself. 
  • Pretzels and Blue’s Clues are a magical combination that produce this effect:

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  • You may want to bring ear plugs as there will be a LOT of crying/screaming going on.

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  • When “Little Hurricane” gets mad he spits.  When something doesn’t go his way, he spits.  When someone upsets him, he spits on them.  When he’s looking out the window at his brothers and sister playing without him, he spits. 
  • No matter how overtired CamCam and Little Hurricane are, they will refuse to nap.
  • Noise is good.  If it’s quiet, investigate.
  • My little boys love to use sweeping “you never” statements to get you to do things for them.  “You never cut me up an apple.  You never let me play outside.  You never let me do the wii.  You never feed me lunch.  You never play with me.” 
  • My kitchen sink always looks like this:

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I am told it does in fact have a bottom, but it’s impossible to find.

  • I believe CamCam and Little Hurricane have a secret stash of markers and crayons that I cannot find, and they will write on things when you’re distracted.  Like couches.  Or beds.  Walls.  Blankets.  Windows.  Each other.
  • When Little Hurricane is doing things he shouldn’t, such as dumping boxes of cereal and crushing them with a truck, or playing in the toilet, don’t count on Nolie or CamCam to clue you in.  They'll just sit there and stare at him with a “I can’t believe your doing this” look on their face. 

Most important of all, prepare to be bombarded with sloppy kisses, tiny arms thrown around your neck or waist, and lots of I wuv you’s.  You’ll leave my house on Sunday exhausted, but smiling from ear to ear. 

Thanks mom!

Monday, June 6, 2011

How Crazy is Your Day?

This is mine.

We’re all kinds of crazy here.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

What DO you do all day?!?!

I think there is nothing that irritates stay at home mom’s more than the genuinely curious stranger who dares utter the words “What do you do all day?”  I suppose some think about how they’re at their jobs all day long, come home and manage to make dinner, clean up the house and take care of the kids needs in the evening and truly can’t imagine what they’d need to do if home all day long. 

So what do I do all day?  Let’s see, from morning through dinner, here’s today:

I wake up and feed Nolie and CamCam their breakfast.  While they’re eating I decide that today’s the day I’m going to finally have the dreaded kitchen counter that everything seems to end up on completely cleared away.  School papers are recycled or filed away, everything that needs to go upstairs is put on the stairs, bills are brought down to the office desk, toys are brought to the toy room, remotes are put away, etc, etc.  It looks wonderful.

Nolie and CamCam finish eating and bring their dishes to the sink.  CamCam tells me I really need to do dishes.  He helps me empty the dishwasher, and I fill it.  It is almost full, there’s just enough room for a couple more dishes.  I make a mental note to run it after I eat my breakfast. 

I decide to first clean the entry, the smallest and easiest room in the house to clean.  Then I’ll have one clean room!  Put everything away, vacuum up all the dirt and mud.  Success!  While in there, find a note from the school I need to sign.  Put it on the kitchen counter so I don’t forget.

Come up to the main area to pick up toys.  While picking up, see how dirty the bottom half of all the windows are in this room and so wash them.  Nolie and CamCam decide to go play outside.  Great, that will make it much easier for me to clean.  Manage to vacuum the kitchen.  Start picking up toys and while bringing something upstairs realize how much laundry there is to do.  Start a load, and sit down to fold what’s already clean.  Hear yelling outside, stop folding to go and see what they’re fighting about.  Start back upstairs, but notice that kitchen counters need to be washed when I walk by them.  Start washing them, find a nerf bullet behind the toaster, walk upstairs to put it away.  See the huge pile of partially folded clothes, sit down to fold some more. 

Hear “Little Hurricane” trying to open the door.  Open the door for him, and he slyly peaks through the door.  Think, “He’s so cute.”  Then think, “What’s that smell???”  Realize it’s poop, and then realize it’s all over his hands.  Wisk him off to the tub.  Go into Little Miss’ room and bleach the wall where the poop art was made.  Strip his bed and add it to the laundry pile.  Try and figure out what else little poopy hands could possible have touched and wash it all.  While cleaning find a note she needed me to mail, throw it down the stairs to put on the kitchen counter so I don’t forget to mail it.

Sit down to fold laundry, see “Little Hurricane” climbing out of the tub.  Bring him down to dress and feed, there’s a knock at the door.  It’s Nolie, bringing me the mail.  I grab it and throw it on the kitchen counter to go through later. 

Hear screaming outside, then the front door slam.  Nolie comes in, covered in mud.  I send him back to the entry to get undressed, then upstairs for a shower.  “Little Hurricane’s” mad because I won’t let him outside so he spits his milk all over the floor.  Start to wipe it up and hear CamCam come inside.  He’s even more covered in mud.  Strip him down in the entry, and send him up for a bath. 

Lunch time, while we’re eating lunch I look online to see what activities I can sign the kids up for the summer. Print out the info, throw it on the kitchen counter to fill out later.  Turn around and see “Little Hurricane” has finished his lunch and is running his peanut butter hands all over the window and licking the window.  Clean up from lunch and send the boys to the toy room to play. 

“Little Hurricane’s” mad they won’t let him play with them so he starts spitting everywhere.  Tell him to stop and think that I really need to mop. 

Go back upstairs to switch around the laundry and while putting away a pile realize the kids floors are covered in dirty clothes.  Didn’t I just have them pick this up yesterday??? Oh well, gather it up from all rooms and throw it into the bathroom. 

Nolie yells to me that CamCam peed his pants.

Run downstairs and see that not only is CamCam soaked, but he’s been walking all around.  Get him back to the tub, then wash up everywhere I can see pee and make a mental note that I definitely need to mop the floor later.  While washing, see little game pieces under the heaters.  Grab them out and put them on the kitchen counter to put away later. 

While I was occupied with that, “Little Hurricane” had reached the bag of animal crackers on the kitchen counter and dumped the entire bag on the kitchen floor in his eagerness to get it into his bowl. 

Older two are home from school.  CamCam and Nolie are laughing and pressing their hands and faces all over the big window as they walk by the big window.  Switch over to homework mode and tell the little boys they need to play by themselves now.  They bring their toys out so they can be near us still.

Time to start dinner.  While working on dinner, I’m brought field trip permission slips to sign and returned papers for me to look at.  I tell them to put them on the kitchen counter so I will remember to take care of them later. 

After dinner ask my oldest two to fill the dishwasher and run it.  They inform me there’s room for 2 plates, 1 cup and that’s it. 

Crap, I forgot to run it after I ate my breakfast. 

So what do I do all day long?  Well, the kitchen counters are covered in papers, mail and school stuff, the laundry is all over the place in various phases of “needing to be put away, needing to be folded, needing to be washed and needing to be sorted,” my entry way is full of mud, my floors desperately need to be vacuumed and mopped, my windows are covered in fingerprints and who knows what else, the kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes and there are toys all over the floor.

I guess I do nothing all day. 

Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Lesson In Cuddlies

All my kids have had cuddlies.  They each chose their own cuddly.  For a period of time they’d have a few different animals or blankies they’d be drawn to, but eventually they would end up with one special cuddly.  I LOVED that my kids had cuddlies because once a cuddly was chosen, they did a marvelous job of falling asleep on their own.  And if they woke during the night, often the cuddly would help them get back to sleep.

 

LaLa

My oldest son chose this bunny.  It was actually a gift that my great-grandmother had given to my baby sister.  When I married, my sister was only 9 years old and she let me take this bunny to remind me of her.  LaLa liked to hold one of the long ears and suck his thumb. 

When LaLa was around 3, he was staying at his grandparents house and he lost his bunny.  They searched their house high and low and never could find it.   About a week earlier one of the ears had fallen off, and I hadn’t had a chance to sew it back on.  I gave it to him and for like a year he went around with this yucky, ratty, hairless ear, sucking his thumb.

 

Little MissLittle Miss had a blanket for her cuddly.  When I had her, we lived in a townhouse and one of our neighbors made this for her.  It actually was very scratchy, I don’t know why she took to this one.

When she was just over 2, we were at the mall and she fell asleep on my shoulder holding her blankie.  I didn’t realize that she let go of it until we were in the car.  The mall was closing, but I ran though as much of it as I could trying to find her blankie.  I called the next day and no one had turned it in.  I’m sure whoever found it thought it was some yucky rag.

 

 

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Nolie had a blankie too.  He called it “blue-one blankie.”  This was a blanket that I had knitted for him when I was pregnant.  He liked to pull the strings on it while sucking his thumb, so eventually “blue-one blankie” became a strangulation hazard.  It was replaced with three “white-one blankies” and eventually Nolie settled on one of those which he still carries around.

 

Little CamCam has a blue blankie.  It was a gift from a friend of mine, actually it was for Nolie.  CamCam is my only one who doesn’t really carry his cuddly around during the day.  Once in awhile he’ll go grab it, but mostly he just uses it when it’s bedtime.

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Little Hurricane chose a bunny.  When I was pregnant with him, I was at the Gap and Little Miss picked out this bunny.  I didn’t want to get it because we have SO many stuffed animals, but she convinced me because it was so soft. 

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He liked to suck his thumb, and then put the bunny in the crook of his arm while holding the hair in the back of his head.  Very complicated cuddler. 

 

 

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This bunny was ALWAYS with him.  He called it his “beee”. 

 

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Last week we were at the mall, and I gave him his bunny.  At some point he must have thrown it, because when we got to the car I realized it was gone.  The mall had just closed, but I ran though everywhere we had been to try and find it.  I banged on the doors of 2 closed stores we had been in, only one let me in. (I hate you Sears!)  I called for 2 days, but noone had it. 

Fortunately I knew the brand and size of his bunny.  I’ve been through losing cuddlies before, and so I had looked into getting a backup for him months ago.  But I never bought it.  So onto Amazon I go, when what do I see?  

NOT IN STOCK
availibility:  unknown

You’ve got to be freakin kidding me.  I did a massive internet search, and found only one site carrying the bunny in the correct size.  Or, I could buy the same bunny, 3” larger from Amazon for half the price.

Now, if you have a child who looses a cuddly, and you are actually fortunate enough to have a chance at replacing said cuddly with an exact replica, TAKE IT!

Not me though, I bought the larger/cheaper one.  I didn’t think 3 inches was that big of a deal.  It took 6 days, and hIMG_2274is bunny finally came.  The week had been hell, and I was so excited when it arrived.  Little Hurricane opened the package and when he pulled off the tissue paper said “my beee!”  He pulled it out, sucked his thumb, and tried to put the bunny in the crook of his arm.  It was too big!

He took that bunny, stuffed it back in the box, put the tissue paper on top, and handed it to me. 

Try again mom.

I’ve been trying to force this thing on him yesterday and today, and I think he’s finally starting to accept him.

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I just hope his old bunny isn’t “toy story 3-ing” his way back home, only to find out he’s been replaced.

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Contact


Mom’s Book Shelf put me in her list of favorite blogs last week, and I wanted to say Thank you!  If you’re not familiar with her blog, go check it out!

 

Monday, February 7, 2011

One wrong word can make ALL the difference

I love listening to my little boys talk.  Hearing their conversations with one another is adorable.  The stories they tell crack me up.  And my favorite is when they mix up words.  Like when The Dada told Nolie to go upstairs and ask mama where LaLa’s camping mat is, and instead he comes up and asks me to get him LaLa’s map. “Yeah mom, you know, the map, so we can look for treasure.” 

But sometimes little language mishaps can happen with older kids and it is JUST as funny.

Last week my 13 year old son had career day in school.  They had a variety of people from different professions in, and the kids could sign up for whatever career they were interested in learning more about.  One was a cosmetologist.  My son and his friend didn’t know what a cosmetologist was, but they knew cosmos had to do with space, so they figured it was someone who did stuff with the stars and space.

They signed right up.

The two of them walk into the room, and my son turns to his friend and says,  “Why’s it all girls in here?”

Naturally when I called told my lovely husband about it, he could not let this one go.  So when he got home from work he pulls our son aside, puts his arm around him and says, “Son, I just want you to know that no matter what it is you choose to do in life, I support you.  I’m always behind you 100%.  I heard you had career day today and so I brought you home this lipstick because I’m behind you bud.” 

Here’s another:

Awhile back my oldest two kids decided they wanted to make some money.  I’m not sure where they got this idea, but they decided that they should open a massage store.  Five minute neck rub for a dollar, extra for a snack and water, that sort of thing.  They got me when they said for an extra fifty cents one of them would babysit.  They made up an appointment book and price charts.

And then they made signs. 

They decided to make signs on the computer and hang them up throughout our house so that way anyone that came over would see them.  They were working on their sign for like a half hour, and then Little Miss came out and said, “Mom, it won’t print.”

I was in the middle of making dinner, and told her I’d go and look at what was wrong as soon as I was done.  The two of them went off to play.  In the meantime, The Dada comes home from work.  He went into the office to do some stuff, and when he went to print something realized that the printer wasn’t plugged into the computer.  He plugs it in, and out spurts like 20 of the following signs:

massage

“Hey hon,” he comes out and says to me.  “What’s up with this?  Trying to make some extra cash?”  Yes, that’s MY cell phone number on a sign offering to give people a genital message.  Or, you know, if they’d like, a little harder one. 

I went laughing to the kids to tell them that they had to redo their sign because they got the word ‘gentle’ wrong. 

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

WW: More Bars in More Places

all 4 boys

Saturday, January 15, 2011

I’m drowning in testosterone!

I am not a loud, crazy person.  I am calm.  I like quiet.  Noise stresses me out. 

So how did I get four loud, wild, chaotic boys ? 

At least I have Little Miss.  She can keep them in check.  When she plays with them, she makes sure things never escalate out of control.  But some day she’ll grow up and move out.  Even if she waits until she’s 20 to move out, the little 3 will only be 15, 13 and 12. 

I’m pretty sure they’ll still be living here at that age.  Pretty sure.

Which means I’ll be the only girl.

The only girl in a house full of boys. 

Sometimes Little Miss stays away overnight and I get a glimpse of what my life will be like. Full of burping, poop jokes, and mess.  And at the end of every sentence, CamCam will say- “Like my buuutttt!!!!”   I don’t quite know what he means by that, but it evokes a squeal of laughter from his brothers. 

Even when they’re playing nicely together, it doesn’t take much to send everything spiraling out of control.  Today Nolie and CamCam were playing with a jump rope.  Nolie let go of his end, and it snapped and hit CamCam.  CamCam screamed and cried, and, because he was mad at Nolie, he pushed The Baby down.  Because CamCam firmly believes that when you’re mad at someone bigger then you, it’s best to pick on someone smaller then you.   The Baby screamed and cried, and LaLa ran down to the basement before I could.  He yelled at Nolie for hurting his brother, and pushed him away from them.  Which made Nolie get upset.  And also scared The Baby, who cried even louder. 

Everyone got in on this one.  A simple little mishap and I have a room of screaming and crying boys.   

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

What Was He Thinking?!?

I would LOVE it if I could, just once, understand my kid’s thought process.  How often I shake my head and say “What were you thinking?”  

“Were you thinking???”

Just the other day CamCam and Nolie were downstairs playing.  I heard CamCam cry, so I went to see what was up.  CamCam was standing at the bottom of the stairs, Nolie was hiding (definite guilty move!) and CamCam’s face was covered in a black sorta haze.  My paranoid prone brain naturally went to every worst case scenario that could have produced crying AND a black face. 

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“What happened to you?”  No answer.

“What did Nolie do?”  No answer

“What’s happened to your face?!?!”  That’s when Nolie saw his chance.  He knew he’d be in trouble with the first two questions, but on this one he was scott-free.  He came bouncing out of hiding and exclaimed “CamCam ate the stamps!”

Apparently my boys were playing with stamps, and CamCam decided to lick the inkpad. 

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“What were you thinking?  Why on earth would you lick the inkpad?!?”

Naturally, he had a perfectly logical explanation:  “Because, I was playing basketball and so then I ate the black.”

Well, logical to him anyways. 

I really wish I could say they grow out of this.  But, alas, experience has taught me that this is not so.

Last year, when my oldest son was 12, I went into his room and saw that his comforter had a big hole in it.

 

“What did you do to your comforter???”
”Nothing, it ripped.”
”There’s no way that it ripped like that.”
”Yes it did.”
”You seriously expect me to believe that it ripped in a perfect square.”
    silence
”Did you cut it?”
”Yeah.”
”Why did you cut it?”
”I spilled lemonade.”
(trying to wrap my brain around that one)”So why would you cut it if you spilled lemonade on it, I can just wash it.”
”No, I didn’t spill lemonade on it, I spilled it on the shelf here.”
(trying not to scream) ”I don’t get it.”
”I didn’t have any towels to wipe it up with.”
”So you thought cutting your comforter was the best idea?!?”
”What else was I supposed to do?”

I have a feeling that once they’re teenagers, it only gets worse.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Lost in Translation

What is wrong with the filter in our boy’s brains?  I know they are hearing what I say, but there must be something wrong with the connection between their ear and their brain that takes what I say, and turns it into the complete opposite.  And it’s not just one of my boys.  Nope, it’s all four.  So it definitely has to be a “boy thing”. 

I even think The Dada suffers from this.

I’m in the entry, putting on the boys coats and shoes as quickly as possible because we are running late for a doctor’s appointment.  I get “Mr. Trouble’s” stuff on him.

I say:  Ok, go out to the van and quickly buckle yourself in.  We are late so please go right into your seat.

He hears:  Go outside and run around to the back of the house.  Try and hide and when I come looking for you, run away and hide somewhere else.  Keep this up until we are REALLY late. 

I’m upstairs putting away laundry that has gathered outside the bedroom doors.  I’m in the boys room and CamCam comes up to me with a pile of his sister’s clothes.

He says: Here ya go ma.

I say: Thanks
CamCam,  but these are your sister’s, they don’t go in here. The Baby’s sleeping in there though, so just put them back on the floor. 

He hears:  These are your sister’s.  Open her door and put them in her room, preferably as loudly as possible. 

We are out in public and Nolie and CamCam run off from me as we are leaving a building.  CamCam runs outside and takes off.  When we get into the van, I give the boys a stern talk about listening and safety.

I say:  You boys have got to start listening to me.  I’ve told you over and over that you have to stay next to me when we are out.  It isn’t safe when you run off.  But you don’t listen to me and that’s why we don’t get to do fun things like go to Chuckie Cheese and go to the playground.  When you start listening and being safe, then we can do more of these fun things.

CamCam hears:  We’re going to the playground!

The older two have been home from school for a half-hour and I am letting them know what their chores are. 

To my oldest I say:  You need to put your clean laundry away.  Please make sure you do not just throw it all in one drawer, you need to put everything away in the correct drawers.  I’ve even laid it out according to which drawer it goes in for you so there’s no excuse.

He hears:  Grab the 4 piles of clean laundry in one massive swoop and dump everything into the bottom drawer of my dresser.  If it topples over, grab whatever fell onto the floor, open the top drawer, and shove it into that.  Now, granted, only the middle drawer is staying closed, but 1 out of 3 isn’t half-bad. 

It’s getting close to dinner time, and I’m in the kitchen trying to finish up as quickly as possible.

I say:  Alright everyone, you gotta get out of here.  I know you’re all hungry and I’m going as fast as I can, but I cannot cook like this. 

They hear:  Mom can’t finish cooking unless The Baby is standing between her legs, hanging onto them and crying, Nolie and CamCam are running around her hitting each other, LaLa is looking in all the pots and asking if he can “just have cereal to eat.” 

The little boys have all been tucked into bed.  I’m in Nolie and CamCam’s room.

I say:  Ok boys, now it’s time to go to sleep.  I read you your book, everyone’s gone potty, you have your drinks right here.  There is no reason for you to get up.  I don’t want any talking or fooling around, it’s time for sleeping.

They hear:  Ok boys, it’s now time to act like caged animals.  I want to hear banging on the walls, throwing of toys, and LOTS of laughing.  Hopefully loud enough to wake The Baby. Tear apart your room.   And, I can think of at least 6 different things you could come out of your room to ask for.  Whatever you do- do not go to sleep. 

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Messy Eaters

One of the coolest things about having lots of kids is how in one glance you can see the progression with each age.  The other day all four of my boys were sitting next to each other on the couch, and just so happened to be sitting according to age.  Their heads looked like a set of stairs, it made The Dada and me chuckle.  Anytime I’m doing an art activity with my three little guys, it quickly becomes apparent the amount of growth that occurs year to year. 

And then there’s eating.  Some nights I wonder when I’m going to be free of washing messy little hands and faces.  The other night we were eating spaghetti and I realized that this will happen sometime between the ages of 5 and 13.

The messiness of boys eating, according to age:

Age 13.  Perfectly clean, as I’d expect.

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Age 5.  Little sauce on the cheeks, nothing awful.

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Age 3.  Oh yeah, that’s more like it. 
Face, tummy, hands… nice. 

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20 Months.  Maybe next time I’ll spoon-feed him.

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He sure was enjoying this meal.

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That explains how he gets it in his hair!

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Hmmm, it might just be easier to trade in for a new,
clean baby.
 

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Now their rooms, that’s a funny thing.  If I were to take a picture of their rooms, the mess would go in the exact opposite direction.

Friday, October 29, 2010

That WOULD be the part he’d like. . . .

My boys favorite movie to watch right now are the VeggieTales movies.  Now, I don’t know if you’re familiar with this series or not, but it’s a pretty awesome set of movies.  Basically the premise is that they take bible stories and make them kid friendly.  Kids are thoroughly entertained all while learning important lessons.  VeggieTales teach kids about being kind to one another, compassion, being brave, doing what’s right, how to deal with bullying- it’s fabulous. 

So here I am, allowing my boys to rent and watch a bit more of these movies then I probably should because I feel that it is teaching them important things.  I’m really hoping that these lessons are soaking in. 

One of these movies is about Jonah and the whale.  Some things are edited for kids, for example- rather then getting into why Nineveh is so bad, they say that the people there slap each other with fishes.  But the basic bible story is the same, and this movie really does a great job of teaching compassion and mercy. 

So what did my boys get out of this movie?  Are they being kinder to one another?

Well, the other day I was driving them in the van when “Mr. Trouble” says to me:  Hey mom, you know what we need?  You need to go buy some fishes that are clean.

Me: Fishes?

Him: Yeah, me and CamCam need fishes that are clean so we can hit each other with them.

Not exactly the point I was hoping he’d get. 

Thursday, October 14, 2010

From Eating money to Toilet aim to Killing lobsters

I LOVE preschool talk.  Just love it.  If you spend any amount of time listening, really listening, to a preschooler and what they are saying, I guarantee you’ll have a good laugh. 

There are those conversations that make you realize that, while it is possible to have a logical conversation with a 5 year old, it just isn’t possible with a 3 year old:

5 year old- Mom, when did I swallow money?

Me- I don’t remember you swallowing money.

5yo- Well, I remember that I did.  It was on my tongue and then it slipped down my throat.

Me- Well, don’t do that again.  We don’t want to put money in our mouth, it’s dangerous.  Plus it has germs. 

5yo- What’ll it do to me?

Me- They’ll make you sick.

5yo- No, I mean what do the germs do to me?

Me- I know, they’ll make you sick.  You’ll throw up.

3 year old, who’s been listening intently to the entire conversation with a look of concentration on his face- And what paper do??? It goes like this:  boom! boom! boom! (Hitting his book back and forth)  And people go ahhhhhhhhh! (Hits himself in face with book)  Like that!

Then there are those conversations that make you wonder what kind of child you are raising:

Like, when your 4 year old brings you something he’s built out of Legos and you say- “Oh, that’s so nice!  What are those, trees?”

And he replies- “No, they’re warriors of doom.”

There are the conversations you hear that make you wonder how on earth we got from point A to point B:

Nolie (aka Mr. Trouble)- (eyeing my dinner plate of tortellini)  Hey!  Do I like that?

Me- No, you don’t.  You think they’re yucky.

CamCam- Hey!  I like those!  I eat that!

Me- No, you don’t like these either.  You think they’re yucky.

CamCam- Yes I do, I like to eat yucky.

Nolie- You like to eat yucky things CamCam?

CamCam- Yup!

Nolie- Just not lobster?

CamCam- I eat lobster.

Nolie- You like to eat their bodies?

CamCam-  No!!! I don’t want to eat my body!!!

Nolie- No, not your body.  You eat lobster’s bodies.  You eat and eat lobster’s bodies and when you eat all their body then their dead. 

There are those conversations that just make you shake your head:

Like when I was talking with Nolie about how he needs to aim better in the toilet-

“Pee goes in here, not here, or here, or here.  Just here.

Nolie- And not in here? (pointing to where the seat connects to the bowl)

Me- No!!! Why on earth are you asking that?!? You don’t pee there do you?

Nolie- Yes I do.

Me- Why!?!

Nolie- Because I like to.

There are the conversations that make it really hard to be the tough, in charge parent.  Because all you want to do is laugh.

It’s bedtime at our house and, like usual, Nolie and CamCam are not settling down to sleep.  They were tucked into bed almost an hour ago and we can still hear them fooling around up there.  Time to send in the big guns- The Dada goes up.

The Dada (after a stern talk about how it’s now bedtime)- Now, do you want to go to sleep or do you want to find out what will happen if I have to come back up here?

Nolie-  I want to find out what will happen.

Dada- No, if I have to come back up, I’m not going to be happy.  So do you want to find out or do you just want to go to sleep?

Nolie- I really want to know what’s going to happen.

And then there are the ones that remind you that you're the mom of boys:

I’m sitting in a chair and Nolie comes in and sits in my lap.  He stayed awhile, which is rare for him.  Usually he jumps right up.  I put my arms around him, and he snuggled in.  So I started rocking and humming the itsy bitsy spider song to him, thinking, “isn’t this nice?”

Nolie- Guess what I did mom?

Me- Hmmm?

Nolie- Guess what I did mom?

Me- What?

Nolie- I tooted on your leg.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

You know you’re the mom of little boys when. . .

Your dining room table is actually a fort

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If necessary, you could feed a small family out of all your baseboard heaters.

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You open up your window to get some fresh air, and find that it is actually a carport. 

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Your kitchen cabinets…

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…are harder to get into then Fort Knox.

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Your baby gate…

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…is being held in place with cable ties…

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…because someone worked overtime to pull it out of the wall.

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You pull back YOUR bed covers and find this:

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More of lunch ends up on the floor…

IMG_1198 …then in this tummy.

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Your sound system and DVD player have to be barricaded. 

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When you manage to clean one room….

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…only to pay for it in another room,

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…and another. 

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I Love You Guys!

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Edited to add:  I’m so excited because today I received an email from the SITS girls telling me that I am the Sits Girl in the Spotlight!!!  If you have NO idea what I’m talking about, then you have to check out the SITS website.  I love them!

And if you’re interested in the blog post that the featured picture prompted, here it is.   

 

Monday, October 4, 2010

I wonder if stamps are figured into the cost of raising a child?

Recently I sent The Dada a text message that read:  You’re out of stamps. 

To which he replied:  How can I be out of stamps?  I just bought some.

To which I replied:  Because certain people in our house do not understand the meaning of the word “stamps”, but they do understand the meaning of the word “stickers”.

Yes, once again my boys were up to no good.  CamCam had his back to me, and I heard some paper crinkling.  I kept looking over, but didn’t see anything.  I assumed he found a little piece of paper on the ground and was playing with it.  But eventually I asked him what he had.  He said “Stickers.”  I figured he took some stickers out of his potty reward stash and was playing with them.  I don’t know why I haven’t learnt my lesson by now.  Why do I always assume my boys are playing with something normal? Why haven’t I learnt that their little imaginations never take them to toys or stickers or plastic containers?  No, their little mischievous imaginations take them to makeup drawers, markers, trash and anything that would waste my money. 

When I did finally go over to them, I saw that they had gotten into our stamps and put them everywhere.

“Who put these everywhere?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Trouble.  “CamCam and me?”  And then, get this, he says, with a sense of pride and accomplishment in his voice, “We worked very hard.”

Like I should be thanking him or something!  “Wow boys!  Great job!  I am so impressed that you put these very expensive stickers all over the room.  Way to go!”

 

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This is pretty cool.  All our doorknobs should have a stamp on them.

 

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If your going to play with stamps, there must ALWAYS be an attempt to mail a baby. 

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So if you think your boys are up to no good never, never, never ask them about it and take their word for it.  Investigate.  I assume I’m being taught this lesson by toddlers so that when I’m the mommy of teenagers I’ll know better.

Thanks boys.