Hearing that is. Unfortunately this hearing problem affects every single male in our house. Every. Single. One.
Just this morning, Thunder was glued to Diego when I had the nerve to ask what he might like for breakfast.
"Capn' Crunch!"
"We're out, Honey. I'll get some later at the store. We have Cheerios or PB toast. Which do you want?"
"Capn' Crunch. Yeah, I'm hungry so get me a bunch please."
"Did you not hear me? I said..." (repeated the above and paused for his response.)
Finally, during the commercial break, Thunder responds:
"Momma, did you forget about that Capn' Crunch? Cause I'm HUN-GRY!"
I lost it. I'm so sick of not being heard. Or, being heard, but only as white noise.
Hail and Lightning both can be playing in the dishwasher/toilet/Bert's toolbox/etc, and I can scream like a banshee, "Get outta there!" With no reaction from the boys. Moments later, I can whisper "Does anyone want candy?" And all three boys will come running.
Bert is super guilty of this crime as well. And he knows it. He's been caught too many times.
Example: Fall football. Every Saturday our television is hijacked by the SEC.
I need to run some errands, ALONE, for my sanity. Before walking out the door, instructions are given:
"The kids just had a snack. Hail should be up from his nap soon. He will need a snack when he wakes up. And a diaper change. I'll be back in two hours.... Babe, did you hear me?"
Bert: "Uh, yeah." (Without ever looking away from the tv) "You said the kids just ate... hey, I heard you. Go and have fun. See you later."
Within 10 minutes my phone rings. Typical questions follow... "Lightning wants a cookie, has he eaten this afternoon?... What in the world is wrong with Hail? He won't quit screaming..."
I've decided to communicate by e-mail only with my boys hence forth. Since Lightning is screaming at the top of his lungs (napless) at the moment, I think this decision is wise.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Honeymoon's Over
My children take after me when it comes to the whole rise and shine part of our day. Bert pops out of the bed, wide awake, ready to meet the day head on. I like to wake up slowly. Lay on the couch for a bit, while sipping coffee.
Lightning, our 2 year old, is probably the most like me.
Every single morning he gets up between 6-6:30 and wants me to lay on the couch with him for a "widdle bit." I happily oblige, since it's still so early, and usually snooze on the couch until the second child wakes up, while Lightning watches Noggin. This morning, Lightning sat up several times and would smell the air, then lay back down. Finally, he turned to me and said in a whisper, "Momma, somedin' smells stink." (I love the language of a 2 year old.)
"Hmmm, wonder what?" I replied.
Lightning immediately placed his sweet little hand over my mouth and said, "Dat. Dat smells stink.... Ummm, Momma, you not have to lay down with me no more. I'm all done."
Thanks, kiddo.
Honeymoon's over.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I'm not on your team!
Preschoolers crack me up when arguing. Our brood has graduated from "You have a girlfriend..." (though it's still used quite a bit) to "I'm not on your team!" Not sure what team they are referring to, or why the other child cares about said team, but right now it's what to say when you are totally pissed off and need to cut down deep. The following just took place:
Thunder: That's not a very good karate kick! Look, do your leg like this. (Demonstrates the correct way to "round house" kick someone in the face.)
Lightning: Mine is good too! Look! (Demonstrates his version of the "round house.")
Thunder: Nope. Not as good as mine.
Lightning: FINE! I'M NOT ON YOUR TEAM!!!
Thunder: Momma! He said he's not on my team! Momma!! Tell him not to say that!
Her Highness decided to throw a new one in the line up this morning as well. While watching "Scooby Doo" a commercial came on for some Barbie that she actually doesn't have. -Thanks to my Mother, she has nearly every Barbie ever created.
Thunder, who is very sweet most of the time and loves his big sister with all his heart: I'm gonna get that for you when it's your birthday.
Her Highness: Okay.
Within moments some sort of spat had begun. A commercial for a Power Ranger toy came on the tv.
Her Highness: I'm NOT getting you that for your birthday!!!
Thunder: Yes you are!
Back and forth they went until both ended up in tears over what presents they would/would not be getting. One's birthday is in June, the other November. What in the world?
So, the next time someone cuts you off in traffic, your boss fusses about a report, or someone is rude to you, lay it on them thick. Give 'em a piece of your mind and really let it all out... Just holler at the top of your lungs, "I'M NOT ON YOUR TEAM!" Or, let them know what they won't be getting for their birthday. Either way, it's a sure fire way to bring a person to their knees and realize the force with which they have reckoned.
Thunder: That's not a very good karate kick! Look, do your leg like this. (Demonstrates the correct way to "round house" kick someone in the face.)
Lightning: Mine is good too! Look! (Demonstrates his version of the "round house.")
Thunder: Nope. Not as good as mine.
Lightning: FINE! I'M NOT ON YOUR TEAM!!!
Thunder: Momma! He said he's not on my team! Momma!! Tell him not to say that!
Her Highness decided to throw a new one in the line up this morning as well. While watching "Scooby Doo" a commercial came on for some Barbie that she actually doesn't have. -Thanks to my Mother, she has nearly every Barbie ever created.
Thunder, who is very sweet most of the time and loves his big sister with all his heart: I'm gonna get that for you when it's your birthday.
Her Highness: Okay.
Within moments some sort of spat had begun. A commercial for a Power Ranger toy came on the tv.
Her Highness: I'm NOT getting you that for your birthday!!!
Thunder: Yes you are!
Back and forth they went until both ended up in tears over what presents they would/would not be getting. One's birthday is in June, the other November. What in the world?
So, the next time someone cuts you off in traffic, your boss fusses about a report, or someone is rude to you, lay it on them thick. Give 'em a piece of your mind and really let it all out... Just holler at the top of your lungs, "I'M NOT ON YOUR TEAM!" Or, let them know what they won't be getting for their birthday. Either way, it's a sure fire way to bring a person to their knees and realize the force with which they have reckoned.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Umm, should I be offended?
Raising Her Highness has been a blast, so far. Having only one little girl, I do tend to doll her up a bit when going out. Well, I once was responsible for the dolling up process. Now, she is in charge of it all... her clothes, shoes and hair style are all in her control. Fortunately for me, she tends to pick the same styles, if not cuter, as I would anyway. She's only 5 1/2 (that half is very important to her right now) so I'm scared to learn what type of teenage fashion diva we are going to have on our hands.
Since she was six months old, the child has not left our house without a hair bow. I'm very strict with this policy. I cannot stand for little girls (or boys for that matter) to have hair in their sweet faces. Not to mention, she feels better when all of that wild hair is not in her eyes. Recently, my giant hair bow obsession was brought to my attention. Having a child in kindergarten has introduced us to many new and interesting people. Her Highness met a sweet little boy at school, whose Mom seemed pretty normal (not something to take lightly) so we scheduled a play date. While hanging out in their backyard she says to me, "Tim has really enjoyed getting to know her this year. At first he came home and said, 'Mom, there's this girl I like in my class. But, she's a BIG BOW HEAD.' But, now that I've gotten to know her, and you, I told him not to call her that anymore. She is definitely NO BIG BOW HEAD!"
I'll admit, at that particular moment Her Highness was being seen in public (for maybe the third time ever in her 5 1/2 years) without a bow. It had fallen out while she was at school, so she shoved it into her backpack.
It was one of those things where the conversation changed quickly, so I didn't get to find out exactly what she meant by it. Thunder and Lightning were fighting over a rake. Hail was throwing a temper tantrum to run in the street, so the play date ended abruptly, as most play dates do when The STORM tags along. But her words still hung with me. She's from Minnesota, I kept telling myself. She doesn't understand OUR culture. She's not the prissiest of gals either. More of the sporty type. But so am I. I just love that my sweet daughter loves to wear only pink and ginormous bows. If that makes her a BIG BOW HEAD, then so be it. I had no idea that term was even considered negative.
Since she was six months old, the child has not left our house without a hair bow. I'm very strict with this policy. I cannot stand for little girls (or boys for that matter) to have hair in their sweet faces. Not to mention, she feels better when all of that wild hair is not in her eyes. Recently, my giant hair bow obsession was brought to my attention. Having a child in kindergarten has introduced us to many new and interesting people. Her Highness met a sweet little boy at school, whose Mom seemed pretty normal (not something to take lightly) so we scheduled a play date. While hanging out in their backyard she says to me, "Tim has really enjoyed getting to know her this year. At first he came home and said, 'Mom, there's this girl I like in my class. But, she's a BIG BOW HEAD.' But, now that I've gotten to know her, and you, I told him not to call her that anymore. She is definitely NO BIG BOW HEAD!"
I'll admit, at that particular moment Her Highness was being seen in public (for maybe the third time ever in her 5 1/2 years) without a bow. It had fallen out while she was at school, so she shoved it into her backpack.
It was one of those things where the conversation changed quickly, so I didn't get to find out exactly what she meant by it. Thunder and Lightning were fighting over a rake. Hail was throwing a temper tantrum to run in the street, so the play date ended abruptly, as most play dates do when The STORM tags along. But her words still hung with me. She's from Minnesota, I kept telling myself. She doesn't understand OUR culture. She's not the prissiest of gals either. More of the sporty type. But so am I. I just love that my sweet daughter loves to wear only pink and ginormous bows. If that makes her a BIG BOW HEAD, then so be it. I had no idea that term was even considered negative.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Sometimes the voices outside my head are way better than anything I could ever make up.
The following is a true story.
I had to visit the doctor today. The visit that none of us ladies enjoy. I won't go any further, but that's where I was, waiting patiently to show every square inch of my hind end to my gyno, (Okay, so I did go further, sorry.) when the following conversation took place. I have already admitted to being a people watcher. In this case, I only wish that these were some of the voices in my head. Unfortunately, these voices came from two, very real teenagers, who were sitting directly across from me in the waiting room.
To help you with the mental image: A young white female, probably no older than 19, with a very tight (not maternity, and she was pregnant enough to be showing) low cut shirt. Her boyfriend, donning a Nascar cap and t-shirt, was present for this visit because they had an ultra-sound scheduled. The two were giddy to have just learned a "Junior" was in the making. We will call this Jerry Springer-ish couple Cherry and Bubba.
Real quick though, Cherry is a name my Mom liked when she was pregnant with me. Cherry. Can you imagine the jokes boys would have made with that?? Thanks, Daddy, for putting your foot down on that one. Back to the waiting room...
When reading the following, think of the accent that Joy uses on "My Name is Earl." Then, slow it down and triple it. If you're not a fan of the show, think total rednecks from the dirty south.
Cherry: Yur Mama is gunna be sooooo happy to have a grandson! Don't fur-get to call her.
Bubba: Yip. Sure will. Hey, you know what that doc said was right. And I know that the whole time yur down visiting your Maw-maw, yur gonna be sittin' on the porch smokin'. Cause that's all she really likes to do anyway. Sit and smoke and all.
Cherry: No-no. I done made up my mind this time. I'm quittin' cold turkey. I done told Maw-maw that I ain't doin' it no more, so you can call her the whole time I'm down thur and ask if I've had any smokes. I'm tellin' ya. This times for real too.
Bubba: Well, you know smellin' them camels on her, ain't gonna make it no easier for you to quit. You best be behavin' yur-self while your gone too.
Cherry just laughed it off. I don't even want to know what all behaviors warranted that last statement. Cherry and Maw-Maw must like to party. Poor "Junior."
I had to visit the doctor today. The visit that none of us ladies enjoy. I won't go any further, but that's where I was, waiting patiently to show every square inch of my hind end to my gyno, (Okay, so I did go further, sorry.) when the following conversation took place. I have already admitted to being a people watcher. In this case, I only wish that these were some of the voices in my head. Unfortunately, these voices came from two, very real teenagers, who were sitting directly across from me in the waiting room.
To help you with the mental image: A young white female, probably no older than 19, with a very tight (not maternity, and she was pregnant enough to be showing) low cut shirt. Her boyfriend, donning a Nascar cap and t-shirt, was present for this visit because they had an ultra-sound scheduled. The two were giddy to have just learned a "Junior" was in the making. We will call this Jerry Springer-ish couple Cherry and Bubba.
Real quick though, Cherry is a name my Mom liked when she was pregnant with me. Cherry. Can you imagine the jokes boys would have made with that?? Thanks, Daddy, for putting your foot down on that one. Back to the waiting room...
When reading the following, think of the accent that Joy uses on "My Name is Earl." Then, slow it down and triple it. If you're not a fan of the show, think total rednecks from the dirty south.
Cherry: Yur Mama is gunna be sooooo happy to have a grandson! Don't fur-get to call her.
Bubba: Yip. Sure will. Hey, you know what that doc said was right. And I know that the whole time yur down visiting your Maw-maw, yur gonna be sittin' on the porch smokin'. Cause that's all she really likes to do anyway. Sit and smoke and all.
Cherry: No-no. I done made up my mind this time. I'm quittin' cold turkey. I done told Maw-maw that I ain't doin' it no more, so you can call her the whole time I'm down thur and ask if I've had any smokes. I'm tellin' ya. This times for real too.
Bubba: Well, you know smellin' them camels on her, ain't gonna make it no easier for you to quit. You best be behavin' yur-self while your gone too.
Cherry just laughed it off. I don't even want to know what all behaviors warranted that last statement. Cherry and Maw-Maw must like to party. Poor "Junior."
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Song Lyrics
As seen in the post below, we rock out to kids songs much of the time. I've sang the song "Oh, my darling Clementine..." many times. I never actually knew the words to the other verses though. The song is about the man's daughter drowning, and him watching her and being unable to help because "Alas I was no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine..." Seriously?? Why is that considered a KIDS SONG?? For real, it goes into details of how she did it too. "She walked the ducks down... her foot hit a splinter..." I'm now retiring that cd.
I do love to hear my kids sing funny songs though. The funniest part is when they fill in the words that they aren't so sure of. Example:
Lightning: (Still singing Christmas carols) "Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle all the WAYYY! Oh much fun to ride and sing and play! Hey! Somedin-somedin I love my Momma HEY! HEY!"
He just loves the "HEY" part.
Her Highness: (My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean-- yet another kids song I'm unsure of the meaning) "My BODY lies over the ocean. My BODY lies over the sea. My BODY lies over the ocean. So bring back my BODY to me."
I asked what in the world that meant. How could your body lie over the ocean?
To which she replied: "Momma, it's just a song!"
She still doesn't believe that it's "Bonnie."
I do love to hear my kids sing funny songs though. The funniest part is when they fill in the words that they aren't so sure of. Example:
Lightning: (Still singing Christmas carols) "Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle all the WAYYY! Oh much fun to ride and sing and play! Hey! Somedin-somedin I love my Momma HEY! HEY!"
He just loves the "HEY" part.
Her Highness: (My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean-- yet another kids song I'm unsure of the meaning) "My BODY lies over the ocean. My BODY lies over the sea. My BODY lies over the ocean. So bring back my BODY to me."
I asked what in the world that meant. How could your body lie over the ocean?
To which she replied: "Momma, it's just a song!"
She still doesn't believe that it's "Bonnie."
Monday, March 16, 2009
Oh, Hail.... Not you too.
I love running errands when I only have one child with me. Bert has the luxury of working from home when he wants, so I take advantage and will run errands while the "big kids" are playing or watching a movie. Hail is still not considered a "big kid" simply because when left to entertain himself, he usually chooses the toilet or eating Barbie shoes as his hobby. I enjoy our one-on-one time though. Not to mention, he still has no opinion when it comes to what type of music we are listening to, which stores we are going in, and how much candy he can have at the check-out. Well... that is, until now. Saturday I ran to the grocery store, Hail in tow, to get just a few items. As soon as we got in the car, I happily turned off the kids songs cd and tried to find a grown-up station to listen to.
Hail: MOMMMM-AAAA! (In the exact same tone Lucy says Momma when I insist she lets her brothers play in her room.)
Me: What Buddy?
Hail: Tar! TAR! TAR!!!! Mommm-aaaaa! MOMMM-AAAA! TARRRRR!
Me: What in the world are you trying to tell me? You see a star? Where? I don't see it. Where
is it?
Hail: TARRR! Tink-a-tink-a! TARRR! Tink-a-tink-a! Momma!
Me: You've got to be kidding me. (Re-inserting kids songs cd)
Hail immediately began dancing and singing. I tested him to make sure that was really what he wanted and that I didn't just distract his thought pattern. Turning it back to Kelly Clarkson, I belted out "Since you've been gone..."
Hail: NOOOOOO! MOMM-AAAAA! TARRRRR! PEASE!!! PEASE!!! Tinka-tinka!!!
I've now lost total control of my own car.
Hail: MOMMMM-AAAA! (In the exact same tone Lucy says Momma when I insist she lets her brothers play in her room.)
Me: What Buddy?
Hail: Tar! TAR! TAR!!!! Mommm-aaaaa! MOMMM-AAAA! TARRRRR!
Me: What in the world are you trying to tell me? You see a star? Where? I don't see it. Where
is it?
Hail: TARRR! Tink-a-tink-a! TARRR! Tink-a-tink-a! Momma!
Me: You've got to be kidding me. (Re-inserting kids songs cd)
Hail immediately began dancing and singing. I tested him to make sure that was really what he wanted and that I didn't just distract his thought pattern. Turning it back to Kelly Clarkson, I belted out "Since you've been gone..."
Hail: NOOOOOO! MOMM-AAAAA! TARRRRR! PEASE!!! PEASE!!! Tinka-tinka!!!
I've now lost total control of my own car.
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