Boob Tube

My 7yr old spent fifteen minutes in my room last night recapping a scene from a movie he watched during his indoor recess yesterday. His performance included voiceovers, hand gestures, and enough facial expressions to put on a full-length Disney movie.  It all ended with, “Isn’t that the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, mom?” 

I told him that I hadn’t seen the movie before, but that it sounded pretty funny based on what he was showing me.  He stood there, completely annoyed that I hadn’t seen the EXACT scene selection he was recapping, and said, “I wish I could just break open the top of my head and show you what I see in my head, because then it would be REALLY funny”.   Apparently he’s got a hi-def, flat screen boob tube between those ears?!?

I started laughing and he spouted, “No, really.  What I see in my head is so funny….the toilet seat coming down on his head and then him screaming…”.  I assured him that I took his word for it and we’d have to watch the movie together some time (not). 

Unconvinced of my belief, he ran to his room and grabbed a notebook and began drawing me a picture of a man with his head stuck under a toilet seat.  As I got up, I told him that it wasn’t necessary, that I got the picture.  He scratched out his drawing and followed me into the bathroom.  I started the bath water and looked over to find him just about to place his head down on the toilet seat.  I shrieked, “THAT’S DISGUSTING!”.  

He lifted his head back up and started laughing. 

He walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to his sister’s room, where I heard him recapping “mom screaming….. my head in the toilet………’that’s disgusting’…….it was soooo funny”.  I didn’t hear a response from my daughter right away, and then I heard my son say, “I wish I could just break open my head so you could hear what I heard, because then it would be REALLY funny.” 

There was a long silence and then I finally heard my daughter respond, “Break open your head?  That’s not funny at all.” 

Next thing you know, my son was scurrying back to the bathroom to grab his notebook and pen, shouting back, “Just a minute mom.  I have to draw a picture of you freaking out.”

A minute later, he hollered, “Hey mom!  How do you spell disgusting?”

“O-F-F, as in turn OFF your tube and get into the tub!”

Hidden Nicknames

Ever wonder what a private school education buys you these days? 

His sisters - with "butt" next to each

I stumbled upon these pictures while cleaning out an old drawer.  

They’re probably about a year old.  

My 7yr old son drew these prized pieces of art in a sketch book and had me laughing at the 2-sided thoughts of my catholic school boy. 

Mosis (Moses) at the top of the mountain

I’d like to think that this picture was a representation of God telling Moses to tell my son that it isn’t nice to draw pictures of your sisters and label them “butts”. 

But the next picture in line resembled a mafia warfare between Batman and Indiana Jones……..so I really couldn’t tell for sure.

Roommate Resistance

I recently decided it was time to reclaim my bed from Baby #4 who has taken over our nights in the last couple of months.  This meant that my two middle daughters (3yr old and 4yr old) would have to share a room together in order for me to let the baby “cry it out” in her crib alone. 

For weeks, I prepped my 4yr old.  I told her story after story of the joyous days of sharing a room with my sister when I was a kid.  I left out the part about living in a 2 bedroom house and the set-up not being optional.  I also told her that her and her sister could have secret talks at night in their beds while everyone was sleeping.  And I even told her that I’d buy her all kinds of stuff to make the room just perfect – lamps, blankets, a telescope (don’t ask)….

She was completely on board………until I started to move the bed.

She screamed like a banshee.  She yelled, she cried, she threw herself down on the hallway floor screaming,  “I JUST DON’T WANT HER IN MY ROOM!”.  I listed every possible reason that sharing a room was going to be fun.  She didn’t buy any of them.  When I mentioned that sharing a room meant that they could dance together in the middle of the room, she turned to me in disgust and said, “She doesn’t even know what’s she doing when the music is on.  It’s embarrassing.”   For the love…

So as the mattress was just about to topple over my head, I turned to my son in an act of desperation and asked if my 3yr old could shack up with him for a couple days – just until crazy lady got her act together.  What I really meant was that I needed to buy myself some time to show my 4yr old who was calling the shots with the room assignments.  He casually answered, “Yeah, sure, why not?  Does that mean I can sleep in your bed?”.  Seriously.

So after two nights of superhero costume balls and dragon slaying sword fights with her brother, I once again yanked the mattress of my 3yr old by its side and pulled it back into the hallway and made my way to her new room.  I managed to get the entire bed into the room before my 4yr old caught wind of the commotion.

When she did, I spent the next two hours ignoring her as she screamed that her life as she knew it was over.  Ok, so she didn’t say those words exactly, but you catch my drift.  She carried on for hours about how she wanted her room to be the same as it had always been and how she would never get any sleep again with her sister in the room.   

Later that day the girls had to take a nap.  After I tucked them into their beds in the same room, I stood in the hallway for a few minutes waiting for the smackdown to begin.  Instead, I listened as my 4yr old made the following announcement in a voice that echoed a cheery flight attendant:

“Welcome to your new room everyone!  Welcome to your new room Care Bears.  Welcome to your new room teddy bear, puppy dog, Woody & Jesse, and kitty cat.  This is the best room ever.  And do you know why?  Because we are sisters sharing a room and sisters are best friends forever.  I’m so glad we’re sharing a room now.  I told mommy a long time ago that we should share a room.  It’s about time we’re sharing a room.  See that paper on the wall?  I made that.  See that picture in the frame?  That’s mine.  See that rug on the floor? That’s mine too.  Goodnight new roommates!  I’m so glad you came.  Have a good nap!”

There was a long pause and then I heard her say to herself, “I wonder where my new lamp should go?”

Her welcome speech tired me out and a minute later I sunk into my bed, only to find my son hiding under the blankets in an attempt to scare me. 

So much for reclaiming my bed……………

PUMP UP THE VOLUME

My 4yr old daughter talks loud.  By loud, I mean, if you were standing on the street corner of This is Not My Life and Why Are You Talking So Loud and needed to get someone’s attention 7 blocks away – she’s your girl.  If you need a taxi cab in the middle of a thunderstorm during rush hour in NYC – she’s your girl.  If you are running for President and giving a press conference on the campaign trail to 100,000 people and your sound system breaks – she’s got you covered, sans a megaphone.

Not only is she loud, she likes to talk.  I have no idea where she gets it from, but if you have three hours I could tell you about it, long story short, of course.

When she’s 35 with children of her own and wondering where she learned the phrases “stop talking for just five minutes” and “you’re going to have to give me 30 seconds to think before you start up again”…….I’ll call her from my retirement community in Barbados (oh wait, I’ll still be working) and remind her of her childhood gift of gab. 

Sometimes her loud natural voice is a blessing, “MOM, SAMMY IS CHOKING!”.  “MOM, YOU MAKE THE BEST LUNCHES EVER!”  “MOM, I LOVE YOU!”

Sometimes her amplified mating call is toxic.  For instance, let’s say you’re sitting in a doctor’s waiting room a couple months ago and she spits out the following, “MOM, WHY IS THAT GIRL PICKING HER BUTT?  SHE SHOULDN’T BE PICKING HER BUTT.  YOU ALWAYS TELL ME THAT YOU SHOULD NEVER PICK YOUR BUTT IN PUBLIC.  HER MOM SHOULD TELL HER NOT TO PICK HER BUTT.  MOM, WHY DON’T YOU JUST TALK TO HER MOM FOR HER?”  – suddenly the voice is not so heavenly.   Nevermind, that the mother of the butt picker is sitting right next to my darling intercom system.  Insert awkward smile and shrug of the shoulders.

The girl definitely knows how to get your attention.  A simple request for juice turns into the Cheers song – Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, Kelly………thank you Woody Harrelson.  My name will never be the same again.  Now, if only I knew someone named Smelly Cat……..

I digress.

I’ve even challenged my daughter on occasions to a whispering contest.  This kid even whispers loud.  Her whisper consists of maintaining the same volume of her voice but adding the ever-so-dainty gesture of placing her hand next to her mouth.  The only thing that hand is doing is blocking the spit from hitting her cheek.

Bottom line, in ten, twenty years, I have a feeling this one is going to have a lot to say.  You might want to look out for her.  

Oh wait, you’ll hear her comin’…..

Backseat Bandits

A couple of weeks ago we ventured downtown, via the highway, with the kids in the car.  At one point my 3yr old called out that we needed to drive faster, to which my 4yr old hollered back that we shouldn’t because then we’d all be “thrown in jail….even us kids”.

The speedometer didn’t move and I assured them that we would not be sent to jail anytime soon and in the event that we did get pulled over for speeding, we would simply get a speeding ticket.  I also let them know that it would take several speeding tickets to get sent to jail, and even then, it would be their daddy sent to the lock-up, not us.   Rather than cry, freak out, or get upset about the thought of their father rotting away in the slammer, they spent the rest of the drive talking through ways they would spring their pops from the joint. 

3yr old - She decided that it would be best to pick up a giant tree, from the roots (of course), and swing it around to break the metal bars down and free daddy dearest.  This was after she contemplated which Care Bear to throw at the police officer as a diversion….but quickly realized she wasn’t willing to part with any of her toys in the heist.  She also let us know that they would have to “wun, weally fast though…….or else they’d boff end up in jail”.  When questioned by my son as to her back-up plan, if the tree broke in half instead of breaking the bars…..she just looked up and hollered “go faster daddy.”

4yr old - My 4yr old was adamant about using terms like “forever” and “the rest of our lives” in her predictions.  She piped in with reminders to both her younger sister and older brother that if their plans didn’t work, they would be screwed and the police would “keep you in jail for….ev….er……..” (insert spooky ghost voice).  But rest assured, she let them know that she would come visit them in jail.  She’s so thoughtful, that one.

7yr old - He decided that Star Wars weapons would be his best bet.  Lightsabers, knives……I think a nunchuck was thrown out at one point.  All would be used to ward off the police, of course, so that he could free the “best dad in the world”.   (I did mention we were heading to an event where he would want us to buy him something, right?)   He even wrote his sisters into his plot, having them tie up the police while he and daddy ran for the hills.   Hmmm…..

Once the conversation started to resemble a Jesse James convention, I quickly reeled them in and reminded them that no one was going to jail that day and that the police are there to protect us, not hurt us.  And it’s our job to do the same. 

They all rolled their eyes nodded in understanding, as my 4yr old announced, “That’s fine.  But nobody is putting my daddy in jail.”

I turned back in my seat and quietly wondered if my husband was playing back the same scene from Dirty Dancing as I was……… “Nobody puts Baby in the corner, nobody.”  

I was just about to ask him, when he turned to me and jokingly sang,  ”I’ve….. had…….. the time of my life…”  

Thankfully, it hasn’t been in jail.

Eskimo Kisses

My 3yr old doesn’t seem to mind bedtime.  Don’t get me wrong, there is the occasional crybabyfest, where she throws herself down on the ground demanding one more pack of fruit snacks before she goes to bed….but usually that’s because she opted out of a hearty meatloaf dinner hours earlier.  Aside from those tile tantrums, she typically slides under the covers of her bed and takes in our nightly bedtime books and lullabies without much drama. 

I usually sing her 2-3 songs before she drifts off to sleep hollers for a refill on her cup of water after I’ve made my way to her sister’s room.  And every night while I sing, she sits up in her bed, presses her little pug nose up against mine, and sings the same words back into my face until we’re both laughing uncontrollably.

She will literally press her forehead and nose against mine until our eyes cross, which I’m pretty sure is the part that gets her giggling.  She then starts to croak out “Twinkle, Twinkle…..”, as our voices work to contain the laughter rising from our bellies.   At the point when I can no longer carry the tune and burst into full-fledged hysteria, her face turns very serious, she drops her hands to her hips, and she sternly tells me “Don’t stop singing!”.

The second song is usually a tease, where I choose a song I know that she doesn’t know.  She sits up and presses her forehead to my forehead and waits until I’ve sung a few lines and then starts making up words to the melody.  Who knew Elton John’s Ballerina Girl had lyrics like “Oopsy the Care Bear”, “I can’t find my Tinkerbell”, and “I don’t know the words, but mommy does”  in it?  Must be a re-mix.

The final song usually starts off with giggles, but manages to round itself out with a blended harmony.  And at the end of the duet with my “close-talker” singing partner, I’m able to steal a kiss…….an eskimo kiss. 

Nevermind that I have to take time to wash the “boogies” off my cheeks afterwards…….it’s all worth the sweet dreams.

Anatomy Lesson

My 4yr old daughter came running around the kitchen corner shouting out that her older brother had pushed her down and made her hurt her “nuts”! 

I calmly told her that she didn’t have any “nuts”, only boys did.  She  waved her hands in the air like a maniac and in a loud, exasperated voice said, “What?  Girls only have butts and privacy?”

I’m not going to lie, I pretended not to hear the question.

Instead I followed with “well, since you don’t have any nuts, I think you’ll be just fine”, as I patted her head and scooted her out of the kitchen. 

Within seconds, my nutless daughter was running around the living room as if nothing had ever happened.

Superhero

I raced across the living room just as I heard my 3yr old yelling “the poop is coming out!”  My heart was in my stomach as I envisioned a pile of dung sitting in the middle of my carpet.  I may or may not have pulled a hamstring in the mad dash.

But never fear, I was reassured that all was well when my daughter announced that she didn’t poop on the floor, she was just playing a game with her 7yr old brother.  I didn’t know whether to question this gross inventive game, but my son quickly explained, “we’re playing superheroes.  I’m Batman and she’s the Poopy Peepy Queen”. 

No, I’m not kidding.

Apparently the super powers of the queen of crap is to drop a load on her attackers and then melt them with her pee.  I swear I’ve read “Goodnight Moon” to my children 9,000 times.  I swear.

This stinky game even placed a “stink shield” in my son’s hand to ward off the pretend poop bombs.  He raised his imaginary shield as he raced from couch to couch to avoid the invisible rain of pee as he planned his attack to take down the smelly tyrant.

When asked if I wanted to join in, I politely declined and made the public announcement that “if anyone needs me, I’ll be in the bathroom”.

My 3yr screamed across the house, “NO!  That’s my castle!” 

I turned back to her and responded, “then I’ll be on your throne.”

Self Confidence

My 1st grader came home from school the other day and told me that his music teacher announced to his class that she “told the 2nd grade teachers that there is a very special singer coming up to one of their classes next year and his/her voice is incredible!”

He then turned to me and said confidently, “I’m pretty sure it’s me”.

When I asked him if she had mentioned his name, he quickly followed up with “well no, but when I sing my Alleluia song, I sound like an angel.  So it’s gotta be me.”

I chuckled and said,  ”I’m sure it is, honey.  I’m sure it is………”.

So much for keeping his feet on the ground.   This kid is sportin’ a halo.

NYE – New Year’s Early

We had a low key NYE this year.  Not that we’ve done anything outrageous ever since kids came into the picture.  But after a very tiring December, by the time the end of the decade came around I knew it was a long shot to think that the kids would make it until midnight without all hell breaking loose. 

So I flipped into game mode about 5:30pm and took matters into my own hands.  While setting up shop to make our annual New Year’s hats using contruction paper, markers, curling ribbon, & a stapler, I sent my husband on a covert operation to turn the living room clock ahead a few hours.  Within a matter of minutes our house went from 5:32pm to 10:47pm.  “Look guys, a little over an hour until 2010!  I can’t believe you’re still awake - you’ll have to tell all your friends at school how late you stayed up!”

So from “10:47pm until 12:00am”, we chowed on appetizers, made party hats, took our annual photo (which resulted in a nice elbow jab in my collar bone from my husband flinging himself towards the couch just in time for the flash to go off),  and danced to every music known to man from dixie country to gangsta rap.  Let me tell you, my 3yr old wearing a party hat sideways, eating chicken cheese dip off of her shirt all the while head bobbing to “I Don’t Wanna Be a Playa No More” is a sign we’re livin the high life! 

By the time “midnight” rolled around, otherwise known as 6:45pm (earlier than normal bedtimes) , I pulled out the video camera to capture our countdown.  My son must have talked through eight countdowns by the time we got everyone on the same page.  Lucky for us, they’re too young to know that in the real world we would be minutes past midnight (or 6:47pm) after so many countdowns.  I panned the video camera around the room to each of them as they SCREAMED at the top of their lungs, “Happy New Year”! 

I wished each of them a Happy New Year and then asked them to announce their New Year’s Resolutions.

After explaining what a resolution was my 7 yr old announced that his resolution was to drink his juice box, that he just toasted in the new year with, as fast as humanly possible.  My 4yr old said she planned to dance her heart out.  My 3yr old tipped her hat and told me to “tuwn the music back on”.  The baby screeched as loud as humanly possible.  I like to think she told me she was going to discover the beauty of sleeping in her own bed in the new year.

Within minutes they all had their resulotions knocked out – except the baby - must have been off on that translation.   Forty-five minutes later I had everyone bathed, pj’d, books read, and tucked into their beds. 

My husband and I spent the next four hours nudging each other on the couch to stay awake.  I managed to catch a glimpse of Jennifer Lopez, er… I mean her body suit on Dick Clark’s Rockin NYE.  As the ball dropped in New York City, I peeped out a “Happy New Year”, followed by a mad dash to my bed for some R&R. 

As far as one of my New Year’s resolutions for 2010…………..develop alternative daylight savings time schedules  (a.k.a – manual clock changes) for days when kids are out of control!