The Kindergartner: "Mom, I have something that's gonna make you funny. It's gonna make you snort."
Me: "Oh really?" (Steeling myself for a joke that involves a moose with underwear on it's head)
The Kid: "I'M ON LOVE WITH IAN!" (that's not a typo. she said she's "on love")
Me: "Oh my. Is Ian in your class?"
The Kid: "Yes, I told my new friend today that I love him and then I told her to go tell him."
Me: "What's your new friends name?"
The Kid: "I don't know."
Me: "Well, what is special about Ian? Is he funny?"
The Kid: "No."
Me: "Is he smart?"
The Kid: "No."
Me: "Does he have a job or a 5 year plan?"
The Kid: "NO! He's haaaandsome like Prince Charming."
Me: "Well, he sounds like a nice boy."
The Kid: "Don't worry mom, I still love you more than Ian."
Me: "I'm not worried. God gave you such a big heart so you can love lots of people. Like me AND Dad AND Maggie AND Ian."
The Kid: (now singing, lullaby style, as we snuggle in to fall asleep) "Moooom, I love you more than cereal. You are my mah ah ah om. I love you more than farts and elephants. I la la love you....."
I fell asleep with a warm, fuzzy feeling knowing that I am loved more than farts and elephants.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Gross Things
Being a mom can be a gross job. Take yesterday for instance. My sweet Bear Cub pooped her pants FOUR TIMES. Yes. Four times. Before I go into detail, I should mention that she has trouble "dealing the deuce" in a bathroom that she unfamiliar with. She prefers to test things out with a couple of pee sessions before she feels comfortable enough to bomb a bowl.
First up- our trip to the dentist office. Bear Cub was so nervous that I had to hold her in my lap while the assistant tried to count her teeth. I thought maybe with all the clinging and she just tooted a little. I thought wrong. After that, we went to a play date at a friends house. She hasn't been there enough recently to get into her comfort zone, hence, number two #2. After the play date, we had to go to Target. I think she just figured since she's been doing it all day, why not just drop a load right there in the cart. We finally returned home and I thought she'd be able to just relax and everything would work out fine for the rest of the night.
She put on her swimsuit, but it was raining, so we told her to get dressed. Instead of taking off her swimsuit first, she just put clothes on over top. When the moment came, she was ready. She ran to the potty; happy to be home. Only she waited too long, and now she couldn't get her one piece swimsuit off fast enough.
There were other fish to fry, so I just put the swimsuit in the Haz-mat bag with the other three outfits she wore that day. Then, I forgot about all of it. Until this morning, when I was potting some new herbs. I'll spare you the train of thought that got me from A to B, but I am guessing you can do the math and figure out how I remembered that I had 3 pairs of panties and a swimsuit that I needed to get poop out of.
Every mother with this problem faces the question "In which sink do I wash out the poop filled panties?" Of course, you could do it in the kitchen sink, but come tonight when you are rinsing off strawberries, all you'll smell (even if only in your head) is poo. Poo Poo Poo. So you head to your bathroom, but then you remember that you'll want to put your toothbrush under that very faucet. And you're just going to think about little specks of feces that you might have missed when bleaching out the sink.
This was about the time I got the bright idea to treat the panties just like we treat the girls when we get back from the beach - hose them off in the driveway. It was a brilliant idea and I was feeling pretty smart about the whole thing. That is, until two nice ladies came strolling in front of our house. I saw myself through their eyes. A sweaty woman with crazy fuzzy hair popping out of a very unkempt pony tail, shirt pulled up over her mouth and nose, squatting next to a small laundry basket, holding the corner of a brown streaked pair of panties while she blasted the crotch of them with the garden hose.
I could see what they were thinking, and it's the first time the thought entered my own head "Why doesn't she just throw them away?" Hopefully they saw me potting herbs earlier and just think I'm some sort of hippie. Anyhow, if I don't remember just to toss those suckers next time, hopefully I will at least remember to use the hose on the back of the house.
First up- our trip to the dentist office. Bear Cub was so nervous that I had to hold her in my lap while the assistant tried to count her teeth. I thought maybe with all the clinging and she just tooted a little. I thought wrong. After that, we went to a play date at a friends house. She hasn't been there enough recently to get into her comfort zone, hence, number two #2. After the play date, we had to go to Target. I think she just figured since she's been doing it all day, why not just drop a load right there in the cart. We finally returned home and I thought she'd be able to just relax and everything would work out fine for the rest of the night.
She put on her swimsuit, but it was raining, so we told her to get dressed. Instead of taking off her swimsuit first, she just put clothes on over top. When the moment came, she was ready. She ran to the potty; happy to be home. Only she waited too long, and now she couldn't get her one piece swimsuit off fast enough.
There were other fish to fry, so I just put the swimsuit in the Haz-mat bag with the other three outfits she wore that day. Then, I forgot about all of it. Until this morning, when I was potting some new herbs. I'll spare you the train of thought that got me from A to B, but I am guessing you can do the math and figure out how I remembered that I had 3 pairs of panties and a swimsuit that I needed to get poop out of.
Every mother with this problem faces the question "In which sink do I wash out the poop filled panties?" Of course, you could do it in the kitchen sink, but come tonight when you are rinsing off strawberries, all you'll smell (even if only in your head) is poo. Poo Poo Poo. So you head to your bathroom, but then you remember that you'll want to put your toothbrush under that very faucet. And you're just going to think about little specks of feces that you might have missed when bleaching out the sink.
This was about the time I got the bright idea to treat the panties just like we treat the girls when we get back from the beach - hose them off in the driveway. It was a brilliant idea and I was feeling pretty smart about the whole thing. That is, until two nice ladies came strolling in front of our house. I saw myself through their eyes. A sweaty woman with crazy fuzzy hair popping out of a very unkempt pony tail, shirt pulled up over her mouth and nose, squatting next to a small laundry basket, holding the corner of a brown streaked pair of panties while she blasted the crotch of them with the garden hose.
I could see what they were thinking, and it's the first time the thought entered my own head "Why doesn't she just throw them away?" Hopefully they saw me potting herbs earlier and just think I'm some sort of hippie. Anyhow, if I don't remember just to toss those suckers next time, hopefully I will at least remember to use the hose on the back of the house.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Back To The Grind
So after a glorious two week vacation in Northern Minnesota, and a long weekend back home just looking at one another and catching up on sleep, we are back to the grind.
School started today for My Taz. Kindergarten. It's kind of a big deal, so I was on guard to get all mushy and weepy. But instead, I just got kind of sweaty. We rode our bikes. It was hot. Not even two blocks from our house, Rylee got nervous in the middle of the street and tipped over. She wasn't even moving. We were fully stopped and like one of those fainting llamas (or sheep or whatever) she just went right down.
I had to think fast and get our bodies and bikes out of the road. Then I had to give a real loving pep talk about not needing to turn around and get in the car. It went something like "No, you're not bleeding, so we're gonna get back on our horses and ride like the wind. Chin up, sister." Even the coolest of mommas would have started to sweat a little. Also, it was 84 degrees already and I have an Irish Afro which is a lot like wearing a wool cap in the middle of summer.
Anyway, drop-off went successful, and all of the liquid in my body was pouring out my skin, so I had nothing left for tears. Also, there were mini donuts in the library. It was a very easy transition. For me, at least.
After that, I went to The Club with Bear Cub. We did a hot lap around the parking lot and couldn't find ONE single spot. Even the makeshift grassy area people use as overflow parking was full. I was thinking that I had probably missed a note about a fundraiser or blood drive. I was about to give up and come back later, but then I remembered what the scale said this morning after TWO solid weeks on vacation.
Anyway, I strolled on into The Club and was baffled by the seemingly emptiness of it all. But then the music started. Latin Music. And a chorus of WHOOT WOOT's coming from the gym. There they were, Mommas from all across the city were having a dance party. A celebratory Zumba class to mark the beginning of the school year. I watched from a distance as women shook their hips a little sassier, with bigger smiles and just a little extra flip of their hair. I raised my water bottle to toast my "co-workers" as we all put our backs to the grind of summer.
Happy First Day of School To Me. And You. And I guess To My Taz.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Out of Office
Seriously is out of the office until August 16th. We will have limited access to internet, but will be checking in from time to time. Should you need immediate assistance with quippy anecdotes about raising funny people, please call Zorbaz on Gull in Nisswa, Minnesota. They should be able to find me.
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