If you've ever had young kids, you know how often they open the door to tell you all kinds of nonsense while they play in the backyard.
The door opens and I hear, "So and so hit me with the ball." The door closes, only to be reopened every 2.9 seconds for comments and questions such as these: "So and so threw the ball at the dog." "Are we allowed to dig in the garden?" "I hit a home run and the ball went over the fence! Can I go get it?" "Mom, do you like grub worms?" "Marshall's eating from the garden." "What are we doing today?" "What are we eating for lunch?" And two seconds later, "What are we eating for dinner tonight?"
Admittedly, I'll sometimes lock the door to stop the nonsense. Or I'll throw out the threat, "If you open that door again, you're coming in for a nap!" That one works like a charm.
Anyway, as I was cleaning my bedroom this morning, the boys and dogs were playing in the backyard. I believe they opened the door 52 times before I heard a new statement. Jackson yelled, "MARSHALL LOST A TOOTH AND I FOUND IT!"
"Okay, great. Yep, he's teething. SHUT THE DOOR," I yelled back. (I should always say 'Slam that door', since that's what they do.)
Jackson went back to play, and I didn't give Marshall's tooth another thought, until I walked through the kitchen 30 minutes later to find the lost-and-found tooth in a baggie on the kitchen counter.
I carried the tooth to Jackson and asked if he thought the tooth fairy should visit the pup. He laughed and said "No! I thought we could make a collection of his teeth."
Oh. Hmm.
Raising boys often leaves me scratching my head.
Things That Make Me Go "Hmm"
Singing in the Home Depot Shower Aisle
While he and Garrett were at the Home Depot on Saturday, Rick sent me this text message and picture: "I thought it was something for singing in the shower."
When they came home, I met Garrett at the door and asked, "Did you find a microphone for the shower?"
My little guy said, "Yes!"
I asked if he sang a song right there in the Home Depot, and he giggled.
Kids are so funny.
Jackson's Math
As we drove home from an eye appointment yesterday, the boys were talking about how many kids are in different families around us. "So and so have 3, so and so have 2, so and so have 5,...."
I simply listened and didn't add anything to the conversation.
Suddenly Jackson became very animated. "Mommy, we only have boys in our family! That's not fair to you," he exclaimed.
I laughed and asked, "What do you mean?"
"You're the only girl in our family. That's not fair. We need four girls to make it even."
"Four," I asked for clarification.
"Yes, four. Because Daddy has 4 boys and you need 4 girls."
I guess he's counting Winston as one of Daddy's boys. It's either that or we need to work on JMan's counting skills.
Funnies
When Rick brought home pizza for dinner last night, Garrett ran through the house yelling, "MOMMY! YOU DON'T HAVE TO COOK TONIGHT! YEA!"
(For the record, he was NOT celebrating because he didn't have to EAT my cooking. Garrett likes MOST of my cooking. He was merely excited for me, knowing that I thoroughly enjoy a break from cooking. He's a boy after my own heart.)
While running errands today, Jackson spotted numerous birds around a pond. He asked, "Mommy, is that an army of birds?"
(No, that would be a flock, but you can call it an army. It makes me laugh.)
After shaving Liam's head to look like Lil Ron Washington this morning, I asked him why he liked being Lil Ron. He said, "Because I like being on tv."
(Well, okay then.)
(Liam was invited to be in a commercial as Lil Ron Washington. I'll be back to share photos.)
The Carrots Make Him Do It
"Finish your carrots. They're very good for your eyes," Rick told the boys the other day.
"Carrots help my eyes to stare," Jack added.
Maybe we should cut back on his carrots.
A Sister
Garrett has been requesting a baby sister for some time.
I promise I do not put him up to it.
At the dinner table the other night, he said, "I want a baby sister. [pause for response] I want a white baby sister."
Rick and I both looked at him as if he had antlers growing out of his head, because we would never even dream of requesting a white baby. If we adopt again, we'll keep the brown thing going.
"A white baby? Why?," I asked.
"Because brown girls only speak Chinese or Spanish," he explained.
I've laughed about his thought process for days now. I guess I should explain to him that brown girls can speak English, especially if they grow up in an English-speaking family.
Liam's Teen Years
My boys are pretty fascinated with teenagers. I supposed most young children feel the same way. In their eyes, those teens must have it all.
I, on the other hand, am very, very afraid of my boys becoming teenagers. Do they really need to grow up? Do they have to become hormonal and independent?
Liam asked me a funny question the other day regarding his teenage years. "Mommy, when I'm a teenager, will I be able to chew gum anytime I want without asking you first?"
I responded with, "Probably."
He pumped his fist and squealed, "Yes!"
If that's the only independence he needs at the age of 13, we'll be alright.
Pump It Up
Garrett asked to help me with dinner the other night. I agreed, even though there wasn't much he could actually do to help with that particular meal. He seemed happy just to stand beside me and talk my ear off.
Incidentally, how did I end up with THREE talkative kids? I am not chatty by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, Rick will often say, "You're being too quiet. Talk to me." Conversation doesn't come naturally to me. But all four of the men in my life can talk it up BIG time.
As I sauteed chicken and listened to my youngest chatter away, I also heard him opening and closing kitchen drawers. About a minute later, I heard him say, "Mommy, does my ear look bigger?"
"What do you mean," I asked.
"Look at me," he said.
And when I turned to look at him, he had one of these in his ear.
Yes, he had a baster in his ear and was "pumping it up".
The Only Worker
As we were finishing lunch yesterday, the dryer buzzed for the 24th time to tell me that the clothes were dry and ready for my attention. I looked at Winston, the Boston Terrier, and said, "Winston, can you take care of that laundry for me?"
I got the response I expected. Winston tapped his toes on my lap and begged for lunch scraps. He's really helpful.
Jack and Garrett laughed hysterically.
Jack: Winston can't help you!
Garrett: Yea, he's a dog!
Me: Oh? Dogs can't help?
J&G: NO!!! [more laughter]
M: Oh man, that stinks.
G: Dogs don't do work. They're just dogs.
J: You're the only worker around here, Mommy.
M: Oh, you noticed?
J&G: Yep.
They're observant.
But never fear...the older the boys get, the less work I will do.
Inside Out
An hour after Liam went to bed last Thursday, he came running down the stairs in a panic.
"Mommy, I have to tell you something," he whimpered.
In my head, I thought, "Uh oh, he's going to throw up! Or he got into trouble at school today and he's decided to confess!"
"Um," he continued. "Tomorrow is inside-out day."
Whew! There's no vomit to clean nor discipline to dole out!
He could hardly contain his excitement the next morning. He tried to wear jeans but quickly realized the difficulty in snapping and zipping inside-out jeans. He settled on sweat pants and a t-shirt.
Even his socks and underwear had to be included.
Apparently, his underwear also had to be backwards.
After school, I asked him if he told everyone about his underwear. He giggled and said, "Yes and the girls were embarrassed."
He must be his father's child!
Friday Funny
Recently, my clothes dryer quit and I picked up the phone to complain in Rick's ear. Jack asked, "Are you calling Big Daddy to come fix our dryer?"
He knows my dad is our Mr. Fix-it.
A similar conversation took place as we sat in traffic the other day.
Garrett: Mommy, what's that noise?
Mommy: That's a diesel truck in front of us. They're noisy.
G: What's a diesel?
M: Diesel is a fuel. My car takes gasoline for fuel, but some trucks take diesel. I'm not sure why they're noisy though.
G: I need to ask Big Daddy, because he knows everything.
Obviously, my boys think the world of my dad.
All Royalties May Be Sent to....
Running errands took way too long the other day. Don't you hate it when that happens? What I hate is when we begin to run out of gas before the car does. Because our tanks were running on fumes, we stopped to grab a quick lunch at Chick-fil-A.
While I doled out the chicken nuggets, Jack and Garrett busied themselves with taping their adhesive placemats to the table.
Those placemats, by the way, were made for germophobic moms like me. Yea for placemats!
As Garrett got his spot all fixed up, he yelled out, "Mommy, look! It's ME!"
Sure enough!
Here's a closer look:
He looks just like my baby 18 mos ago. So much so that I think Chick-fil-A might owe me some royalties.
That boy has cracked me up lately, and I better write this funny down before I forget. One day last week, Garrett had talked until I thought he might run out of things to say. However, he took a breath and was ready to go another nine innings.
Finally, I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and said, "You sure have a lot to say today, G."
To which he replied, "I know and I still have a lot more to say."
A moment of genius struck me when I handed him the phone and told him to call my mom. That gave my ears a thirty-minute break.
Speaking of hands...oh, we weren't talking about hands, but take a look at Garrett's after our latest Science project:
Yes, those manly hands are a beautiful shade of pink tonight after making GobbledyGoop.
Fun little project. Just stay away from the "red". Yellow was much easier to clean up.
You're welcome.
Perhaps the creators of GobbledyGoop would like to place my boy and his pink hands on their logo? All royalties would go towards the purchase of good soap.
Friday Funny
Just before Jack began his bedtime prayers last night, I said, "Remember to say your thanksgivings, too."
"Dear God, please make it fanksgiving soon and help me to obey. Amen."
Amen.
More Than A One-Liner
Forgive me if I'm a tad bit sarcastic tonight. Consider yourself warned.
Apparently this blog has taken a back burner once again. I'll not make any excuses for my absence, except it might be that I've had nothing to say.
"Nothing" might be an exaggeration, as I've had several one-liners in mind, but as you've noticed over the duration of this blog, one-liners on this blog are not common.
Would you be surprised to know that I am actually a woman of few words? Those of you that don't know me in real life might find that hard to believe, considering the posts that run on forsweetever around here, but it is true. I am not one of those women that have 10,000 words per day. 2,000 might be more accurate.
My husband, on the other hand, takes up the slack. That man can talk, y'all!
I can pick on him right now, because he's in bed with the flu. Actually, the flu test came back negative, but how else do you explain body aches, chills, and fever?
I better not pick on him anymore, because I have been praying that the Lord would protect the boys and me from this illness. As a result, I might oughtta mind my p's and q's tonight.
As the boys and I ate dinner this evening, Liam asked, "Mommy, if a stranger ever tries to take us, do we scream and punch?"
(I must pause here and let my mother know that she doesn't need to worry that some traumatic circumstance brought about this topic of conversation. Mom, he's fine. Nothing happened.
Liam is actually thinking of next school year, when he will pick up his brothers from their kindergarten classes and bring them to me. He thought that meant that they, the three amigos, were walking themselves all the way home, but I quickly informed him that I will be at the school's front door next year, just as I am this year.)
"Boys if a stranger ever tries to take you, you scream, kick them in the privates, and run for dear life," I said.
That statement brought the house down in roaring laughter from three little boys. Liam literally fell from his chair to roll on the floor.
The next 15 minutes were spent with each boy repeating, "Scream and kick them in the privates," and new bursts of laughter.
How's that for a one-liner?
I'm thinking that I didn't make much progress in the stranger danger talk tonight, so I need to relocate our DVD.
What is it with little boys and their fascination with such potty talk? God must find it quite funny to have given me three boys.
Very funny.
I believe I've now used my allotted 2,000 words for this day, so it must be time to curl up with my pillow and a book.
Good night.
Putt-Putt and Mouth Filters
Two posts in one day? It's crazy, I know. But I wanted to post about our Putt-Putt experience today. (For those that didn't read today's earlier post, you might want to read it. I shared about a rather big change in our lives that will take place on Monday.)
So, we headed out to play miniature golf this morning. This was shortly after a hard rain, so the temperature was a surprising 76 degrees when we began at 10:30a.m. That is unheard of this time of year!
Just before beginning our game, I coached the boys a little. I had to tell them things such as, "This is golf, so don't hit the ball hard like a baseball." And, "Stay with me or the boogie man might grab you."
You can't tell by their faces, but we did have a good time.
Did I just see a mushroom on steroids?
I did! Look at it! It's half the size of a zebra!
Why do these places have to decorate with stupid motif? Are the 'shrooms, zebras, and palm trees supposed to make me feel like I'm stranded on a deserted island with my kids, fungus, and zoo animals? If so, I think I need to be a little frightened.
If we were on a deserted island, I think my hair would look something like this:
That hairstyle is frightening. It's called U-G-L-Y! Clearly, I would have been better off in a hat.
Some interesting facts about today's game:
- Three of us scored at least 1 hole-in-one.
- Two of my boys could possibly be true golfers.
- One of my boys could be an excellent golfer if he could focus for more than 0.2 seconds.
- I won the game, but Liam was a close second.
- I had forgotten there is a "Five stroke limit" rule, but I'm pretty sure it was invented for one of my little guys. I'm not naming names.
(Yes, we are on a first-name basis with everyone in the "glasses place", because we're there nearly every week. Three boys are hard on frames.)
Jack, the one who loves all older men, ran to him and put his little hand on Mr. Richard's and said, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the glasses place! What if I break my glasses today?" I just about fell over. That Jackson!
We needed Mr. Richard's expertise earlier in the week, so we visited him in the "glasses place" on Monday, too. It was at that time that Jack informed the sweet man that he had boogers in his nose.
I wanted to crawl under a chair.
Two days later, the same child informs his doctor that his breath smells like coffee.
I wanted to crawl under the examining table.
I don't think there's a filter on Jack's mouth quite yet.
After today's pizza lunch, we headed to Target to find Liam a new shirt for the first day of school. And I looked for a mouth filter, but they were fresh out.
If we were on a deserted island, I suppose Jack couldn't embarrass me on a daily basis, so I think we'll stick around here.
Y'all have a great weekend!
What Would You Do?
I have a pressing question that I hope you all can weigh in on with your opinions. Are you ready?
Should I have told the lady at Prairie House Cafe that her skirt was stuck in her underwear???
Friday Funny
We had the threat of a tornado the other night, so the boys, Winston, and I headed to my closet for safety. My husband, the hero, decided to stay in front of the tv to watch the weather reports.
What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man! (Name that song and win brownie points.)
I have a few children's books in my closet for such stormy occasions. Books help to take their minds of the impending storm.
The first one I read to them had them laughing so hard they had side aches.
Have you read Knuffle Bunny by Mo Willems to your children? If you haven't, they are seriously deprived children.
(I hate book reviews, so I'm not going to make you read mine. In college, I had to write fifty reviews one semeseter, and I will forever hate them. If you want to know what Knuffle Bunny is all about, click here.)
And when I say that your kids are deprived without Knuffle Bunny, I might be exaggerating. I don't want all two of you to rush out to the bookstore to purchase this light-hearted book and then be disappointed.
But if you want a good laugh, then let me tell you about this page in particular:
When I turned to that page, Jack said, "Look, Trixie has goggles in her hand."
I laughed so hard my sides ached.
And I didn't correct my innocent child.
Friday Funny
Liam and I were working on a math lesson one day last week, when he tried to stump me with some scientific trivia.
"Mommy, did you know that if you poot in the car, then the car will catch on fire," he asked.
After laughing my head off, I asked, "Who told you that?"
"Didi and Big Daddy." (my parents)
Because this was too good to keep to myself, I called my parents immediately. I relayed the story to my mom, and she proclaimed innocence. She turned to tell the story to my dad, and I heard a guilty giggle in the background. I knew it!
Science by Big Daddy. If I ever feel inadequate in teaching my boys, I know I can turn to my dad.
Friday Funny
We stopped at our favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch recently. I went all out and ordered beef fajitas. There was so much scrumptious meat that I wasn't able to finish it, so I began doling it out to Rick and the boys. After they took care of it all, Liam said, "Mmm, that was good 'misteak'."
Yep, it was a good mistake. One that makes me smile every time I think about it.
