Phrases I have heard so far tonight: "Mommy! I'm putting milk in baby sister's hair!" "Can I put this 18 wheeler in the fish tank?" "Look mommy! I brought you a rock!" "Mommy, I'm making a mess!" "Mommy, can I have a chocolate vegetable?" Needless to say, it's only 6:45 and I'm READY for bed time.
Sometimes, no let me correct that, all the time, my son who is now three wants to relay what he's seeing, saw, has ever seen, or plans to ever see, many times, all throughout the day. It's a lot like listening to a techno song remix - one incessant replay of the same dang phrase over and over again thrown on top of a beat bed that's also incessantly repetitive and trite. Not that I don't love my son's stories and all... But as of late he's taken to combining everything he's seen and done through the day into one
My mother always said, "Little pictures have big ears." I never understood that until I had children of my own... Virgil: Mommy, that is cray cray. Me: Virgil, let's not say "cray cray." It's not very nice. Virgil: But daddy says "cray cray!" Me: I know, but daddy is teasing when he says it. And he shouldn't say it either. Virgil: Okay, mommy. What the heck? Me: Virgil! We can't say "what the heck" either! It's not nice to say things like "what the heck" and "cray cray." Virgil: Okay mommy. It's not nice to say "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful" either.
Watching TV with your kids is a learning opportunity. No, not for them. For you. Virgil: Mommy, look at that rocketship! Me: That's not a rocketship, thats a zeppelin. Virgil: No, that's a rocketship. Me: It's called a zeppelin. It looks like a rocketship, doesn't it? Virgil: No, that's a rocketship. I know about rocketships... and puppets. Touché son, touché.
It would seem we have had yet another miracle in our house, for as I was doing a little work this morning, Virgil was quietly playing in the living room. I look over to see him eating a cookie (which I did not give him). So I asked him, Me: Where did you get that? Virgil: Jesus. A miracle, indeed.
Of course, the moment I stick my hands in cookie dough to mix it up, my son yells, "I need to tinkle!" So I decide to brave it and tell him he can go by himself (normally I help make sure he pulls his pants down far enough, aims properly, etc.). When I'm done mixing the dough, I head to the bathroom to check on progress. I hear him flush on my way there and arrive to see that he has successfully used the toilet without making a mess of himself or it. So I exclaim, Me: Good job, buddy!
As with most children, there has been a learning curve teaching my son the importance of modesty. He tends to be an exhibitionist around the house. Thus I have taken to telling him that nobody wants to see his business. Perhaps, in light of the following conversation, I should be a little more specific... Virgil: (After using a toy screwdriver on the wall) Mommy! The house is fixed! Me: Thank you! Great job! You must be a handyman! Do you work for Handy Manny? Virgil: No. Me: Oh! Well then you must have your own business! Virgil: Mommy, nobody wants
Before I had children, I knew exactly what kind of parent I was going to be. After my first child, I just knew I was mother of the year. After my second child, I questioned whether or not I should give my children up to be raised by wolves - perhaps they would do better than I. After my second child, I questioned whether or not I should give my children up to be raised by wolves - perhaps they would do better than I. I went to the hospital yesterday to visit a friend who just had her first
Me: Good job, buddy! You put a pickle on the potty! (He calls poopoo "pickles.") Virgil: I did! It's a big, sliding pickle! Me: What's a sliding pickle? Virgil: Jake and the Neverland Pirates slide like a pickle! ...Perhaps I should pay more attention to Jake and the Neverland Pirates...
Virgil: (After picking up a foam letter B) Mommy, what's this letter? Me: You tell me. What letter is it? Virgil: It's a B! Me: That's right! What sound does a B make? Virgil: 'buh' 'buh' B! Me: And what words start with the 'buh' sound? Virgil: What word? Me: 'buh' buh' Ball? Virgil: 'buh' Ball! Me: And 'buh' 'buh' Banana? Virgil: And 'buh' buh' Monster Truck!
My son is a zany little fellow, always coming up with something crazy to say. I've been told over and over again that I need to be writing these things down. But some of them are just too funny not to share. So I decided to start a new feature on my blog: Things My Kids Say. I say "my kids" because I know that in the not too distant future, one precocious little eight month old will be joining her brother in witty toddler banter. I'm thinking long-term here, folks. So without further adieu, I bring you Things My
I love being a mom. It's a lot of fun, most of the time. But if I were painting a picture of Cleaver-esque perfection in my home, I would be lying to you. For all the love, for all the fun, for all the smiles, for all the laughter, there are just those days. You know what I'm talking about. Days where all you want to do is find the nearest UPS Store and ship those suckers off to the first taker. Today has been one of those days. I'll just break down a few of the conversations I've had
There are no pearls to offer on this particular blog entry. I have no divine wisdom to impart on you after countless hours of observation and months of postulation. What I have for this entry is the right hand of motherly camaraderie, extended from me, the first time mom, to you, my faithful reader-mom, to remind you that you're not crazy, you're not alone, and you aren't failing as a mother. A friend of mine said wisely, "In comparing ourselves to others, it's important to remember that we are comparing our insides to their outsides." In other words, when other