5 yr old: Mommy, I tooted. Excuse me!
me: Thank you for being polite.
5 yr old: So, when I say "excuse me" does that make the stink go away?
me: No, it's just polite.
5 yr old: Then what's the point?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Muh Tun Huh
After picking up the kids from school, I told them they could find a snack while I took a nap. I was reading when my 7 yr old came into the room, wimpering, with her tongue stuck out.
me: What's wrong?
7 yr old: Muh tun huh!
Looking closely, I could see a bit of a red spot on her tongue, but nothing really looked wrong
me: What happened?
7 yr old: I was looking for food in the deep freezer and my tongue got stuck.
me: on accident?
7 yr old: no, I put my tongue on there to see if it would really stick to something cold
me: did it?
7 yr old: yes! Look at muh tun! It HURTS!
me: well, I'm sorry you're hurt, but I guess you won't be doing that again, will you?
7 yr old (sticking out her bottom lip): No. My lip hurts too.
me: did you stick your lip and tongue on at the same time?
7 yr old: No... it was after my tongue
me (starting to smirk at this point): Why did you put your lip on the freezer after you hurt your tongue?
7 yr old (getting defensive): I had to see if it was still cold enough to stick!
me: What's wrong?
7 yr old: Muh tun huh!
Looking closely, I could see a bit of a red spot on her tongue, but nothing really looked wrong
me: What happened?
7 yr old: I was looking for food in the deep freezer and my tongue got stuck.
me: on accident?
7 yr old: no, I put my tongue on there to see if it would really stick to something cold
me: did it?
7 yr old: yes! Look at muh tun! It HURTS!
me: well, I'm sorry you're hurt, but I guess you won't be doing that again, will you?
7 yr old (sticking out her bottom lip): No. My lip hurts too.
me: did you stick your lip and tongue on at the same time?
7 yr old: No... it was after my tongue
me (starting to smirk at this point): Why did you put your lip on the freezer after you hurt your tongue?
7 yr old (getting defensive): I had to see if it was still cold enough to stick!
Friday, November 16, 2007
My daughter, the sober druggie
OK, so my daughter is only 10 and is extremely anti-drugs, but I swear she acts like a stoner at times. Today she bought her SECOND lava lamp and spent about an hour staring at it in her darkened bedroom. When she finally came out, she told me, "it was like, whoa! I watched it and it was boring, but at the same time it WASN'T boring! It's all soothing, and fascinating... now I know why hippies love lava lamps!"
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Pocket, not a pocket.
Dear Son,
There are some things it's better to learn earlier in life, and some things you should probably learn later. Today you stumbled upon something that the sooner it is learned, the better. I know what you're thinking, so before you brush off my advice, as you have so many times today, and dismiss me as someone clueless, who just pretends to know what I'm talking about, please hear me out.
I may not wear what you call "boy clothes" and many of my outfits have mysterious things that your father will probably never have on his (hooks, pads, underwires, etc...), but I do know some things about your clothing. After all, I did help you choose it, and bought it for you.
Go ahead and wear your shirts backwards, because "they look cooler that way". Wear your pants a little long if you like the look of rolled cuffs. Turn your hat just about any way you want to, but for the sake of all that is cherished in this world, that weird flap thing on the front of your underwear is NOT a pocket. Are you paying attention? IT IS NOT A POCKET. A good rule of thumb is that if you have to reach through the waist on your pants to reach something, it's not a pocket. If you are not wearing pants, another rule of thumb is that if you reach into your "pocket" and touch the bare skin of your private parts, or, as you so aptly demonstrated earlier, reach further in and discover, with glee, that you can also reach your butthole, that is not a pocket.
Maybe a visual will help me get my point across:
POCKET:
NOT A POCKET:
Seek the advice of other males, if you must, but please at least give my words a chance.
Love,
Mom
There are some things it's better to learn earlier in life, and some things you should probably learn later. Today you stumbled upon something that the sooner it is learned, the better. I know what you're thinking, so before you brush off my advice, as you have so many times today, and dismiss me as someone clueless, who just pretends to know what I'm talking about, please hear me out.
I may not wear what you call "boy clothes" and many of my outfits have mysterious things that your father will probably never have on his (hooks, pads, underwires, etc...), but I do know some things about your clothing. After all, I did help you choose it, and bought it for you.
Go ahead and wear your shirts backwards, because "they look cooler that way". Wear your pants a little long if you like the look of rolled cuffs. Turn your hat just about any way you want to, but for the sake of all that is cherished in this world, that weird flap thing on the front of your underwear is NOT a pocket. Are you paying attention? IT IS NOT A POCKET. A good rule of thumb is that if you have to reach through the waist on your pants to reach something, it's not a pocket. If you are not wearing pants, another rule of thumb is that if you reach into your "pocket" and touch the bare skin of your private parts, or, as you so aptly demonstrated earlier, reach further in and discover, with glee, that you can also reach your butthole, that is not a pocket.
Maybe a visual will help me get my point across:
POCKET:
NOT A POCKET:
Seek the advice of other males, if you must, but please at least give my words a chance.
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Why would you say that?
This morning I was trying to teach my 4 yr old how to play battleship. It's not really the easiest game for a kid his age to figure out, but he wanted to learn. After we finished playing, he put away the game while I did some dishes. At some point in picking it up he accidentally spilled some pieces on the floor, and, me being in dishes mode, I asked him to make sure he wiped them all up. Looking at me like I'd lost it, he said, with a giggle, "Why would you say wipe up the pieces? That's crazy talk!"
A bit later he saw me taking a pill and asked why I take medicine. Not wanting to explain what anti-depression meds are, I just said, "The doctor gave me medicine that helps my brain work right." After contemplating it for a few seconds, he asked, "So is that why you asked me to wipe up plastic pieces?"
Fast forward to this afternoon. It was time to pick up the girls from school, and the weather is really rainy, so I decided to put the dog in her cage, instead of bringing her with us...
4 yr old: Why are we leaving Mrs. Gideon here? We always take her to the school.
me: I don't think we need to bring her this time
4 yr old: Is that because your brain's actually working?
A bit later he saw me taking a pill and asked why I take medicine. Not wanting to explain what anti-depression meds are, I just said, "The doctor gave me medicine that helps my brain work right." After contemplating it for a few seconds, he asked, "So is that why you asked me to wipe up plastic pieces?"
Fast forward to this afternoon. It was time to pick up the girls from school, and the weather is really rainy, so I decided to put the dog in her cage, instead of bringing her with us...
4 yr old: Why are we leaving Mrs. Gideon here? We always take her to the school.
me: I don't think we need to bring her this time
4 yr old: Is that because your brain's actually working?
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
I guess that’s good... and a bit creepy.
It's nearing dinner time, and my 4 yr old son asked for a snack. I don't want his dinner ruined by eating something now, so I asked him if he could wait a bit so we can all eat together...
4 yr old:
4 yr old:
"Ok, mommy, I'll wait. I'll hold on for you. I'll wait until you tell me I can eat."
starts hugging and cuddling me
"I'm waiting for you."
"These are the degrees of being a nice guy."
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Calm down!
Yesterday was a bit too warm outside. Not super hot, but we were still all uncomfortable, I was watching 4 extra kids (our regular neighbor kid, and my friend's other three). Our house doesn't have air conditioning, so the kids were alternately playing outside and sitting in front of one of the fans in the living room, when it happened. V decided her nose itched, and she had to scratch it.
To say this was a small nosebleed would be calling the Pacific Ocean a mere puddle, as blood pooled in her hand while she made a mad dash for the, thankfully unoccupied, bathroom. Everytime the bleeding would slow, V would look at the bright red blob of tissue in her hand and start crying, which set off another flood, and only made her more scared.
After at least 20 minutes of this, her best friend and I finally got her calmed down enough to get her to stop sobbing, and the blood flow almost completely stopped. I handed her a clean tissue, and as V moved the used one away from her face she saw it...
V: Oh my GOD!
*tears well up in her already bloodshot eyes*
me: What's wrong?
V starts BAWLING - she's obviously extremely freaked out, but I can't figure out why. Finally, almost incomprehensibly, while sobbing, she tells me...
V: There is a piece of BRAIN in my Kleenex!
me: Oh, sweetie, that's a blood clot
V: NO! It's BRAIN! LOOK!!!
After another 10 minutes, I finally convinced her that it wasn't brain on her tissue, and that blood clots were normal, so she calmed down, and an hour or so later she was in a good enough mood for us to joke about it.
I will be using this story to embarrass her when she's a teenager.
To say this was a small nosebleed would be calling the Pacific Ocean a mere puddle, as blood pooled in her hand while she made a mad dash for the, thankfully unoccupied, bathroom. Everytime the bleeding would slow, V would look at the bright red blob of tissue in her hand and start crying, which set off another flood, and only made her more scared.
After at least 20 minutes of this, her best friend and I finally got her calmed down enough to get her to stop sobbing, and the blood flow almost completely stopped. I handed her a clean tissue, and as V moved the used one away from her face she saw it...
V: Oh my GOD!
*tears well up in her already bloodshot eyes*
me: What's wrong?
V starts BAWLING - she's obviously extremely freaked out, but I can't figure out why. Finally, almost incomprehensibly, while sobbing, she tells me...
V: There is a piece of BRAIN in my Kleenex!
me: Oh, sweetie, that's a blood clot
V: NO! It's BRAIN! LOOK!!!
After another 10 minutes, I finally convinced her that it wasn't brain on her tissue, and that blood clots were normal, so she calmed down, and an hour or so later she was in a good enough mood for us to joke about it.
I will be using this story to embarrass her when she's a teenager.
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