Green and Furry

Last night while watching the people movie version of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" I had a very enlightening conversation with the wee ones.  It goes something like this:

Little Man asks: "Mom, is the Grinch real?"

Me: "No, it's not real, but some people can act like the Grinch. I know a woman who doesn't like Christmas at all."

Little Man and Little Princess gasp loudly.

Little Man: "She's a real Grinch?" (he pauses furrowing his darling brow) "Is she furry like him?"

Me: "Well, um, no!"

Little Man inquires seriously: "Is she green?"

Me (shaking my head): "No, she's not green."

Little Princess pipes up, ever the voice of reason: "Then she definitely isn't a Grinch.  Maybe she's just a hater?"

INSERT MY EYES POPPING OUT OF MY HEAD...

"A 'hater'?" I squeak. "Where did you learn that word?"

Princess smiles widely, "Word Girl!"

Now, I may be a bit out of touch with pop culture, but I am quite sure that PBS Kids did NOT teach my wee ones what a "hater" is.  Hmmmm.... I may need to ban all electronic media.

I ended up just bursting out loud laughing as I said, "Okay! Everyone just finish watching the movie..."

Jumping in Hoops - By Big E

So, today my eldest daughter (now 10 and in 5th grade) wanted to play on my laptop.  I told her to have a go at it.  She played games for a little bit and then I saw her typing a document, but that's nothing out of the ordinary.  She likes to type poems or journal.  After Big E abandoned my laptop, I picked it up and found THIS:

My life, Jumping  in Hoops

 My life has always been shunted aside by the little children. I don’t like it at all. For example when I win a baseball or a soccer game the little kids always will come first I say, “can we go out for ice cream” my parents say, “sorry the little ones are to tired.”

 Second example my dad and I finally want some alone time and the little ones want to be with us also, so I say, “but Daddy it’s just us right ?”. But my Dad says “sorry maybe next time sweetheart”. That night I had a broken heart. And I was not a sweetheart.    

  Now you understand my pain and I thank you for listening if you did. I should go now. 

I'm trying not to over-react or read too much into it or just plain ol' freak out.  But...

OH!!! THE GUILT!!!!!!

What have I done to my first born?  Have I really neglected her while taking care of her three younger siblings? Have I caused her trauma,which will require several years of therapy?!

I need to ponder this for a while.

My Poet Laureate

My sweet, darling Precious loves to write poetry.  I suppose the fact that she goes to an arts-focused school helps her adoration of poetry.  More often then not, she and her fellow students get to create dances and movements that follow their poems.  In any case, I wanted to share one of her bestest poems because I am so very proud of all of her creativity.

Do We Give Up Hope?

By Precious

Do we give up hope...

When the birds don't sing in the morning?

Do we give up hope...

When there are no flowers to pick?

Do we,

do we...

give up hope...

When there is no one to talk to or have fun with?

Do we give up hope...

When we are lonely?

No, no, we will not give up hope,

because,

Hope is 

the people of the world.

Two Peas In A Pod

Little Princess and Little Man were sitting at the kitchen table eating an afternoon snack last week, when suddenly they decided that they weren't close enough. So Little Man got off his chair and pushed it closer to Princess. He kept pushing it until their chairs were touching and there was no wiggle room between.

Little Man (smiling proudly): "Princess! Now we are sitting RIGHT by each other AND we can still eat our snack!"

Princess: "Hey Buddy! Someday we won't get to eat right by each other any more. We might both live in our own houses."

Little Man: "Ohhh..."

I think my jaw dropped open in shock and I almost started sobbing. It was almost as if Little Princess decided to play a game with Little Man… “How many of Mommy's saddest thoughts can we say out loud?"

Me: "Princess! As adults, we can still have lunch with our brothers or sisters and I could even go sit next Auntie while eating if I wanted to."

Princess (totally unaffected): "Oh. Okay. Well then, you can eat at my house if you want, Little Man. We can eat ramen noodles always."

Me (Because I can't let anything go, E-V-E-R): "As a matter of fact, Princess, you and Little Man can live here forever, if you want. No one needs to get their own house. You can stay with Mommy and Daddy forever!" I smile triumphantly!

Yes, yes! I’m ashamed to admit that I really, truly said that out loud to my beautiful, independent wee ones.

Princess (looks at Little Man): "Okay, Mommy.” (short pause as she glances at Little Man) “But we will get our own houses, Buddy."

Ouch, ouch, ouch. Really?!?!?

Praise Jesus for independent and head-strong children.

Precocious

Here is a picture of my super adorable and super precious wee ones leftover from Easter.

And here is a sampling of some of the lovely conversations we've had within the past couple of weeks.  Adorable, aren't they?


Little Man: Mommy, do you have a baby in your tummy?

Me: No.

Little Man: Then why does your tummy look so big and... so out there?

***

Princess: Mommy, how come Sister’s pancakes are so yummy and yellow, and yours are too dark and tastes funny?

***

Little Man: Mom, the reason I sometimes do bad things is because you're so mean to me. You never buy me toys at Super Target. You know what? If you bought me the toy dinosaurs I want, I'd be good for all day.

***

Princess: Mommy, how come Auntie looks like a princess and you just look like a Mommy? (note: child’s nose was extremely scrunched up…)

***

Big E: Mom, you said you love me more than Ole [our cat], but you sure talk nicer to him!

Check [Card], Please

Cruising down the road with the windows open listening to Katy Perry sing Hot & Cold. We pull into the parking lot of the grocery store and I hear my dear Little Man say something so I turn down the music. "What?" I yell into the back seat as my eyes zero in on a prime parking spot that is close to the door, as well as the cart corral. (Score!)

"Do you have your check card?" I'm not sure I heard him correctly, so I ask "What?!" again.

The poor boy is now frustrated that he's being asked to repeat himself for a third time, so he sighs heavily and slowly says, "Mom! I said, do you have your check card?"

"Huh? Why would you ask? Of course, I have it." I'm genuinely puzzled. The wee ones often come up with random questions about the odd thoughts flitting around their head. I mean these children of mine are all geniuses! Right?! They are always, always thinking of something but it's usually how-many-Lincoln-Logs-tall-am-I or can-a-snail-bite-me or can we have cotton candy for lunch already - Jeez!

So the Little Man says, "You forget it a lot."

No, I don't. Oh wait! Oh my goodness... he's right!

I turn off the engine, now that I'm parked in my super sweet never-get-this-lucky-on-a-Saturday-spot and grab my huge "five-day-bag" (as Husband -- and now the children -- likes to refer to my purse) that I carry everywhere. I check the outside smaller pocket, then the second larger pocket and then small, inside third pocket. Finally sighing at myself, I check my wallet where it's most likely to be. Then I see it, perfectly clear, in my mind's eye. It's sitting on the kitchen counter next to my drivers license next to the sink. I had put it in my pocket this morning to go on a walk with the children and I meant to put them back in my wallet and, of course, didn't.

I spin around and look straight at him. He stares back at me with huge, blue eyes and looks slightly alarmed. "Oh man! I forgot it!" I say.

He starts to laugh. He keeps laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing... until, even Big E (who was sitting in the far back seat, minding her own business reading Harry Potter Book Umpteenth AGAIN) looks up and begins laughing. She may not know why she's laughing but Little Man is so hysterical that she joins in... Even I end up laughing, knowing that I'll have to park clear on the other end of the lot when we come back. (Damn it!)

He's starting preschool shortly. In a real brick building with real teachers and new faces and hot lunch. I worry about him some days, but I think he'll be just fine.

I Couldn't Hear You

At the exact same moment that I summoned my family for dinner last night, my Little Man experienced a partial loss of hearing.

While he didn't hear any of my 3 incrementally more hostile calls for him to come to the dinner table from 10 feet away, my darling son could make out just fine what Mario or Luigi was saying for the Wii game he was playing at the time.

After Little Man's player was inadvertently blown to smithereens by an monster of some sort, my son was instantaneously blessed with the miracle of healing.

"I'm ready to eat now!" he chirped as he came barrelling into the kitchen.

He was about ready to plop himself into his seat when he noticed that there wasn't one for him.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Where's my chair?"

I told him that because he was a no-show for his dinner reservation, he had been bumped to second seating.

Little Man had no idea what a "second seating" was, but he was smart enough to figure out that it wasn't desirable. He instantly started howling.

As I took a big, delicious bite of my dinner I explained, "Since you weren't available for this round of dinner, I've decided you can eat whatever is left over after everyone else is finished eating... that is, if I still feel like feeding you then."

"I COULDN'T HEAR YOU!" wailed Little man as he was marched into his bedroom for a timeout.

"Yeah right," whispered Princess G under her breath.

"I HEARD THAT!" yelled the Wii champion.


P.S. The Little Man had to wait 10 horribly, long painful minutes, but rest assured, he got his dinner in the end.

Served

I adore teacher's blogs. They are the best. Super funny and insightful and oh-so-brutally honest! Today I was reading Ayn's post. Too cute and a perfect example of children trying to use their recently acquired, ever expanding, vocabulary skills. Hee-hee!


Little illuminations: "Wednesday's Witticism - Out of the mouth of babes"

For today's "Witticism" post, I thought I would share a cute story that happened yesterday. We're finishing our last week of school with the "tale" end of our fairytale unit. Today's story was "Jack and the Beanstalk". I usually try to find literature to share that is relatively free of violence and "bad words". I started to read the story and realized it was a particularly gory version, so I swapped it for another. The second version was pretty accurate with original violence, but I continued. As I was reading the part about Jack cutting down the beanstalk and the giant falls to his death, I was praying that the friends wouldn't focus on the violence. (You know there's always one who will do just what you hope no one will! )

Just as I finished, one of my most enthusiastic friends jumped up and yelled, "MAN, HE GOT SERVED!"

I stifled my laughter and said with an almost straight face, "Ben, what does that mean, 'he got served'?"

He looked up at me with a big smile (proud of his newly expanded vocabulary), "I don't know, but that giant sure got it!"

Kids, you gotta love them!

Out of the Mouth of Babes Continued

Fantastic things children say!

Recently friends were exchanging stories on FB about the things their children had said. These wee ones are so very insightful and funny -- when they aren't your children...

When my Little Princess (now age 4, then age 2 1/2, I think) was in a public bathroom stall with me, she asked VERY LOUDLY, "Mommy, when I grow up I want to have a big butt, just like you. And those bumps too!!! COOL!" [Bumps translates to stretch marks incurred from three pregnancies...] The woman in the stall next to us actually CHORTLED! I, on the other hand, wanted to continue to hide in the stall for a while.

From Friend's with Wee Ones:
A couple of years ago while at the pumpkin patch, we were washing our hands and this older man was too. He was talking to my son who was probably 4 years at the time. With the older man standing there, my son says, "Mommy, how come that man has no teeth ... and looks like he hasn't taken a shower because he kind of smells." I was quite embarrassed, but I think the man was even more.

Then a couple of weeks ago, while at church during the Pastor's sermon, Second Son (who is also 4) was playing with this toy figurine. During a quiet silence he yelps, "Ow! He hurt his penis." Oh my goodness! I was so embarrassed because I am quite sure that everyone in the congregation heard.

In the public bathroom with someone in the stall next to us, Son asked me rather loudly, "Mommy, do you pee out of your penis or your butt?" LOL. I consider it part of the territory of parenthood, and kinda funny, though, yes, still embarrassing. But really, what mother hasn't had their kid say something like that?

My two year old son and I were in the grocery store. He looked at a larger woman and said, "Mommy, she has boobies!" Yes, everyone in the aisle, including the lady 'with boobies,' heard it.

From a Daddy:
Wait until your son comes out of a public bathroom and makes a comment about how big "certain" male body parts are when there are women waiting in a line out the door of their bathroom. It was great! I just smiled and waved.

Passive Agressive

Truly laughed out loud at this posting from Passive-Aggressive Notes. OMG! Too funny. I have experienced a few notes from my now nine-year old that are about as funny as these notes but unfortunately, I am so unorganized that I can't for-the-life-of-me find them at this moment. You gotta read these...

LOVE IT!

Ski Masks

Last weekend, the family is driving in the good ol' mini-van towards a big box store. We are on a tight budget. Funds are limited. Mom is extremely stressed about money.

Gracie (age 4): Mom! [Pointing out the vehicle window] I want Frucky Fried Chicken.

Me: No. Gracie. Sorry. We don't have money.

Gracie: Mommy! [Pointing out other side of vehicle] I want Arby's.

Me: No, Grace. We don't have money to eat out.

Gracie: M-O-M! I want to go on a ride at Wal-Mart.

Me: Nope. Sorry. Still no money.

Gracie: MOOOOOMMMMY! I want Sonic!

Me (slightly, okay! truthfully -- an extremely exasperated voice): Grace! I said, 'No.' We are only going to Target and we are only getting the 5 items on my list. See my list?

Gracie: Well, we could get a pretzel and cheese at Target?

Me: [SIGH!] NO! We do not have money for any of that stuff.

Gracie: Oh! We could go to the bank and get some money. They will give us some!

Me: No, they won't. Not unless we go in with ski masks on.

Husband cackles next to me while Gracie looks confused and asks, "Ski masks?"

Fast forward to today. I am standing inside the bank at the teller counter with Gracie and her younger brother making a deposit. Gracie, who was previously playing shy with the chatty teller, suddenly yells out at the top of her healthy lungs . . .

"HEY! WE AREN'T EVEN WEARING MASKS?!"

The teller looked at my confused as I shrug and say, "What did she just say? I didn't catch it..."

At least she didn't add the word "ski" in front of mask -- or perhaps I would have been typing this from the local federal penitentiary.

Quote of the Week

Last week I brought my precious nine-year old daughter to Husband's work to sell Girl Scout cookies. All was going relatively well. A group of husband's coworkers were gathered around chatting. Suddenly, out of the blue, my sweet, dimpled, smiling three-year old son felt the need to all-but-shout (and I quote!):

"Boys have butts and PENISES!
You know that?!"

Nice.

Real nice.

FAB-U-LOUS!

No Gina

Little Boo (4 years old) to Husband: "What are you drinking?"

Husband: "Beer."

Little Boo: "Where did it go?"

Husband: "In my tummy."

Little Boo: "Will it come out again?"

Husband: "Well, yes, but not right away. It's going to stay in my tummy a little while."

Little Boo: "Maybe it'll come out your vagina?"

Little Man (just turned 3): "He has a penis! No 'gina for boys!"

Husband: . . . hands Little Boo to me, shaking his head.

Boogers

The other day, Little Boo (who is 4) said, "When I grow up, I think I'll get married."

I asked, "How will you choose who to marry?"

She said, "I'll find someone who doesn't have a name yet, so I can name them myself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My wee ones have discovered how much fun it is to sit behind me on the couch with their legs wrapped around my hips. Then I have to stand up so the wee ones can show me how big my butt is. Then to make it even more hilarious, the wee ones figured out that Husband laughed even harder if, when I stood up, they spread their little legs out as far as they could possibly go before reporting my "size".

Nice! Real nice!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My nine-year old daughter woke me up over the weekend with this question:

"Mom, are boogers nose poop?"

Right. Away.

There isn't any other way to wake up than to the sweet cuddles and kisses of your 4 year old daughter. She stroked my face and kissed my eyebrows and I sighed happily and gave her a kiss back. She snuggled down onto my shoulder and squeezed me tightly.

Then ever so softly and with the kindest of voices, she whispered this advice into my ear:

"Mommy? When you wake up and get out of bed, you should go brush your teeth. Right. Away. You have icky mouth, okay?"

Ahem.

Nothing like being sweetly told you STINK by your preschooler at 6 am...

I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. Especially since, well...

she was right!

Honesty

One of our daughters and our son recently stayed at my mother in laws house for the night. Grandma and Papa treated them to dinner at a restaurant.

The four of them were seated in a booth directly next to two men. My mother in law said that one of guys looked very disheveled, and the other had a beard down to his waist.

As much as my mother in law told my daughters not to stare, my four-year old daughter could not control herself. Finally, one of the men started to talk to my daughter.

And, because my mother in law knows my daughter's history, she quickly turned to the bearded man and said, "You probably shouldn't ask her any questions. She's very honest."

Nice. Real nice! Now we know where my husband, and most likely my daughter, learned how to be so subtle. For the record, I mean that in the nicest, sweetest possible way...

Have Faith

9-year old daughter: "Huh! What's SNF again?"

Me: "Sunday Night Football."

9-year old daughter: "Who is that singing?"

Me: "That is Faith Hill. She is gorgeous."

9-year old daughter: "No. YOU'RE GORGEOUS."

Me (melting heart): "Awww! Thank you, sweetie. I love you."

9-year old daughter: "Mom, you are so real and beautiful. She can't be that. Not like you."

__________________

Words cannot express how much I adore that sweet and delusional daughter. My baby-girl thinks I am better than Faith Hill. WOW!

I can't begin to fathom how she comes up with this stuff, but I think that ONE compliment will probably carry me through the next several weeks -- maybe months!

You Don't Say

Sometimes children say the funniest or most innocently profound things. Or often, in my case, my children say the most inappropriate things, which in hind sight can be amusing -- or not. For example...
Out of the blue, my two year old walked up to me, big his pudgy little hands on either side of my cheeks and said, "I was a baby in your tummy. When I was really big, I fell out."

* * * * *

While at one of my nine-year old daughter's baseball games, my sister offered to take my three-year old daughter, Little Boo, to the park rec building to go to the bathroom. When they entered the bathroom, Boo ran ahead and locked Auntie out of the bathroom stall. Boo was yelling, "Me do it myself! I can do it." Auntie waited outside the bathroom stall and tried to casually peer through the door crack.

A few seconds later Auntie heard Boo yell, "Awwww! NUTS! It's in my underwear."

Auntie said, "It's okay. Just come out here."

Boo started yelping, "Come in! Come in! Peas help."

Auntie said, "Honey, I can't. You locked it."

Boo started wailing louder. "Yes, you can come in. Just push it open. I said it's okay. Peas come in. Just push it open NOW!" It took Auntie a while to convince Boo that she couldn't bust down the stall door and that Boo actually had to get off the toilet to unlock the door for her.

* * * * *

A friend's five-year old son recently had the following conversation with his mom:

E went through a phase when he was younger where he would ask me questions about how the baby gets in “there” on almost a daily basis. I started out very vague (but no lies) and finally got exhausted with all the questions so I gave him the “correct” terms, i.e. egg & sperm, and he seemed satisfied then that I was giving him the whole story. Not sure why he started asking again but good God!

The other night, after reading our nightly bedtime story at the cabin, E asked me, “How does the egg & that other thing make a baby?” (He had seen his new cousin 5 week old baby Isabel that day.)

I said, “You mean the sperm?”

He said, “Yes, that thing.”

I said, “Well, you know how our dog Willie digs down into the sand on the beach when it is hot out so he can lie down in the cool sand? No one taught him how to do that. He just knew how."

Explanation sounds good so far so I continued and said, "The sperm & the egg, when they get together, just know how to make a baby. They have the right tools to make the baby, not like hammers though.”

E says, “Oh. I didn’t think they have hammers; I thought they had wrenches.”

* * * * *

Driving along in the car with my 2-year old son, 4-year old daughter and 9-year old daughter. The children are all screaming and fighting and hissing and spitting and basically attempting to annihilate each other in whatever way is humanly possible while strapped into the proper car seats.

The shrieking banshee, formerly known as my 4-year old daughter, keeps screaming, "Where are we going? Are we there yet?"

I sigh LOUDLY. I have already told her twelve bajillion times in the past 30 seconds where we are going.

Thankfully my 2-year old son jumps in and yells at the top of his healthy lungs: "We're going crazy and Mommy says I AM DRIVING!!!"

Alrighty then. I guess the little parrot must have heard that one too many times...

Life Lesson

E (my almost 9-year old daughter) to me: Mom! I have funny toes. Just look at that "piggly" toe...

Me: Your what?

E: My piggly toe. You know, the little one. It's so little and weird.

Me: Honey, do you mean your "pinkie" toe, like this? (I hold up my pinkie finger.)

E: Nooooo. It's my piggly toe.

Me: I think it's called your PINKIE toe.

E: No. It's not.

Me: Are you sure? I think I have always heard it referred to as a pinkie, or maybe a baby, toe.

E: No, Mom! I am right. What do you call this toe? (She is pointing at the toe next to her pinkie toe.)

Me: Ummm... I don't know. It's just a toe.

E: Mom, it's not called a "ring" toe, like on your hand (pointing to her ring finger) -- so, this little toe is my piggly toe -- not my pinkie toe. Toes have different names than fingers. Geez! Don't you know anything?

Me: Ummm... apparently not.
________
How can you argue with that kind of logic? Seriously?! It was flawed but quite ingenious, wouldn't you agree?

No More Junk Food

My precious, little two-year son was sitting on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom as I was getting ready for work last week. The following enlightening conversation was had as we brushed our teeth and applied my make-up. What a hoot!

Darling boy in his sweetest little boy voice, “Mommy. You stay home with me today?”

Me: “No, Honey. I need to go to work today.”

Darling boy - pouting lip stuck out. “No. You stay home.”

Me: “I will be home later this week. I need to go to work today.”

Darling boy: “Why?!”

Me: “Because that’s what they pay me to do.” (I know this was a brilliant response for a two-year old.)

Darling boy: “But WHY?!”

Me: “So I can go to the grocery store and buy our family yummy food.” (I was fairly proud of this response. Seemed logical, right?)

Darling boy: “Oh! Thank you, mommy! I love to eat groceries.”

Thoughtful expression.

Darling boy – places his hands on either side of my face and pulls me nose to nose with him. “We no get junk food! Let’s get healthy grocery like fruit chews, cheese puffs (translation: Cheetos), cake and ummm… maybe a ice cream.”

Moral of the story: Your two-year old may be able to use the word “healthy” and he be familiar with the motherly warning of “No more junk food” but that doesn’t mean he recognizes the actual definitions or meanings behind these concepts.

Pass the “healthy” sour cream and onion potato chips, please!