Thursday, June 18, 2015

sh*t my kids say, vol. 4

My kids were born with this amazing survival mechanism called "Be irresistibly cute at the exact moment one or both parents are preparing to throw you out the window." See examples below.

Bedtime has been drama lately. The worst thing in Jack's life is going to sleep. He hates it, just like his dad. It is a grave injustice that DM gets to stay up later than him (not me, I hightail it to bed as soon as humanly possible). It's just NOT FAIR! The other night there was a bunch of ballyhoo, and then we were talking things out, and he said "Well, that's the first fair thing I've heard you say all night!" Ha.

At bedtime I tell Colby I'll stay "an extra minute" if she promises "no fussin' and fightin'" when I leave. This morning she said "Mama! No fuzz last night! Can I get a stickah?" And the other night I came home to a bunch of dinnertime drama and C said "Mama? Daddy is making Jack eat his dinnah and he is SUPAH fuzzy about it."

This reminds me of the other day when we were cajoling J to eat some bacon. This kid is DEFINITELY going to be a vegetarian. He is always asking "Is dis made out of aminals?" Watching Charlotte's Web did not help. Anyway, we were trying to get him to eat some fried Wilbur and he was not having it. Colby (who definitely digs on swine) said "Jack, you hass to eat it so you can gwow big and stwong and helfy. If you don't eat your pwotein, you won't be my big brudder anymore, you'll just be my little tiny baby brudder."

And here's something they both like to say lately when things don't go their way:
"I do not agree with this plan."
Too effin bad, kid. This is not a democracy, this is a benevolent dictatorship, and you are pissing Chairman Mom the hell off.

The other night was "just one of those nights." I said "Oh man, this is not a good situation." Jack came up to me, put his hand on my head and said, "What seems to be the twubble, Mama?" He was my favorite child that night :)

He's such a little love, he is always worried that people are going to be sad or have their feelings hurt. Like if for whatever reason we drive two cars somewhere, he gets so stressed out choosing who to ride home with, because he doesn't want anyone to be sad! And he loves giving compliments. The other day he said "Mama, you are the best at painting toenails. The best in the WHOLE WOILD!" Then he looks over at DM and says "Daddy, even though I didn't say you were the best at painting toenails, I love you VERY much, and you are very good at lots of things." <3

And he's the best big brother. He Colby's biggest fan and cheerleader. He's taken to holding the door open for her and saying "After you." (And she, in turn, does it for me <3) The other night she was trying to climb up on our bed and he said "Can I give you a hand, sistah?" Oh yeah and he feeds her sometimes. Right at the point in the painful and dramatic Spanish soap opera that is dinnertime where we're about to throw her in the river for fish food, he steps in and starts playing "Chugga chugga choo choo, open up, the twain's coming into the tunnel!" with her taco salad.

sorry. i don't mean to offend. this just makes me laugh.
And the girl is such a little bossypants. I know you're not "supposed" to say this about little "grill" chiles, but I can't help it, its true.

C: Here Jack, you can have this toy. *Gives him the toy.* Now say 'Thank you for the toy!'"
J: Thank you for the toy!
C: You're welcome!

C: Hey! Who dwopped my scissahs?
J: Me.
C: Say sorry!
J: Sorry.
C: Dat's okayyyyy :)

She's a love though. Most of the time.

C: I love dat bading soup [bathing suit] you are wearing, Mama! Who got dat for you?
Me: I got it for myself.
C: Aw, dat was so nice of yourself.
It was, wasn't it? ;)

Then again sometimes she's not. She bit her brother this weekend. When I scolded her (well, after an initial period of indignant rage at being called out), she said "I'm da wittow sistow. I don't know any bettah." *Eye roll.* Lord help us.

The kids are big Star Wars fans. The other night C and DM were petting Feta and she was breathing heavily. Colby said, "That must be Darf Vader in her belly."

J: "No, he's called C-FWEAKY-O (instead of C-3PO) because he fweaks out all da time!

Me: I have a Mazda, and Daddy has a Toyota.
J: I like Daddy's car the best, because it has Jedi Master Yoda in the name!

The other night Colby was looking at a picture from our wedding, and she asked where she and Jack were. I said they weren't born yet, they were just a twinkle in their daddy's eye. She holds the picture up to DM and says "Daddy, do you remember this picture when I was twinkling inside your eyebowl?"

Speaking of before they were born, somehow we got onto the subject of when they were in utero.
C: I didn't like being in mommy's belly. It was scary in dare.
J: I loved it! It was like a cozy bouncy house!
C: Well I didn't. It was dark and I was lonely.
Yikes. Poor kid. Who knew you could eff them up before they were even born?!

C taking my picture with the phone:
Me: How do I look?
C: Mmm. Not so good. Let's twy dat again.
*Takes another picture.*
Oooh, dat looks fabulous mama!

J was in the middle of a major malfunction. I told him to calm down, and try breathing through his nose. His response: "How am I supposed to do that, Mama?! My nose is totally stuffed up! Do you think I'm some kind of fweaking wizard or someting?!"

C: "Mawmaw -  I am SO fweakin' out about dis!" (Apparently we're teenagers now?)

Washing machine = Wet Dryer.
Dryer = Dry washer.
Nail salon = Toe nail store (ew).
Aquarium = Shark zoo.
Seal = Doggy dolphin.
Swimsuit cover up = Bading Soup Jacket

C (in a public restroom with both kids): Mama, why you got a hairy butt?
Me: That's not my butt. That's... can we discuss this later?
J: Why doesn't Colby have furry pwivates like you do?
Ah, the innocence of youth.

J: Nobody can have any fun or play any games while I'm pooping!
FOMO, No. 2.

C: I need pwivacy when I poop. But not when I pee.
Totally get that ;)

The kids are also freakishly specific and accurate in estimating the number of poops they have? They've taken to timing their daily constitutionals to the last possible moment before bath time, when we're already running late for the evening's action-packed agenda. I usually grumble about it a little bit and last night J said "Don't worry mama, this will be quick, I only have 2 poops!"
Me: How can you possibly know that?
J: I can just tell.

Colby recently found, somewhere, a little square of that waffle-type non-slip drawer/shelf liner material.
C: Dis is my blankie from when I was born-ded.
Me: That's not a blankie, it goes on shelves.
C: Nope. It's my blankie.
So, she's currently snuggling and sleeping with some shelf liner. Awesome mom.

"blanket" [< said in creepy michael jackson voice]
Speaking of Michael Jackson, my kid is so not PC. She refuses to believe Michael Jackson was a man. "Nope. He's a grill." Period. End of sentence.

Oh and C's new thing is she will do something (eat the last quesadilla slice, bend her paper, etc), then freak out because her quesadilla is gone or her paper is bent. Then when I point out that she is the one who did said unforgivable action, she starts crying "NO I DIDN'T!!! I DIDN'T SEE MYSELF DO IT!!!" I can't get too mad because I definitely do that sometimes with really delicious foods or beverages or an entire pack of Rolos.

Jack: You know what I like?
Me: What?
J: Being a kid. It's pwetty gweat.
Yeah dude. Seems like a pretty sweet gig! <3

Top reasons CPS might come knocking this week:

The other morning, Jack starts singing out of the blue:

"Bad bad whiskey.
Bad, bad whiskey.
Bad, bad whiskey, 

Made me lose my happy home."
(It's a song by Buddy Guy. And, apparently, I need to be a little more careful about editing my iTunes playlists!)

Another morning, the kids froke out because I wouldn't let them take beer bottle caps to school with them.
Me: Those are not toys. They're sharp and they could hurt someone.
J: Well Daddy let's us play with them.
[Choice words for Daddy in my brain.]
Me: Well he shouldn't. They're not toys. They're garbage. Grown up garbage.
I tell DM about this later and he said, "Yeah, I'll be throwing those away from now on."
I inform him that J said "Daddy lets us throw them at the dart board."
DM: Well how else are they gonna work on their caps game?!"
[More choice words for Daddy in my brain.]

And in closing: DM: "Holy shit. We made tiny humans. That is never gonna be not-weird."



To see more funny sh*t, see volumes 1, 2, and 3, as well as sh*t my husband says.

If you liked this, you'll love my essay in I Still Just Want To Pee Alone. Buy it HERE!

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