Chatterboxes III

A few months ago the Boy had a sleepover at a friend’s house with 3 other boys.  His friend’s dad was telling spy stories, and one of them involved the army.

Other kid A: “What does the army do again?”

Other kid B: “They fight to defend our freedom!”

My Boy, upset: “NO! They do NOT fight to defend our freedom!! They fight for oil! and natural resources!! The ACLU fights to defend our freedom!!”

Seriously, readers, I am not making this up. Eric takes this as a liberal parenting victory.

Disclaimer: When I asked the boy about this the other day, he had no idea what the ACLU was, but stood by his prior remarks regarding the army. Still, the source was a reliable one and I’m sure it happened that one time.

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Girl, having a fit about practicing her violin.

In fairness, this was really my fault-she was too tired and it was bound to happen. I send her up to her room to calm down and say that I’ll be up to talk to her in a bit. I go up a few minutes later, and find her on her bed, leafing through “The MIlestones Project,” a book that has pictures of kids all around the world going through the same milestones–first lost tooth, sibling, etc.

She is sniffling as she turns the pages, and then says in a low growl, “All of these kids…they have a better life than me! I have a HORRIBLE life!!!”

A bit dramatic, are we?

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Boy, shaking his head: I’ve just had too much death lately.

Me: What?! What do you mean?! Who died?

Boy: Well, there was a big battle. First, thunderpaw died, and then ravencat, and then whiskerface.

Me: Are you … talking about Warriors?

Boy: Yeah.  Just too much death.

For the uninitiated, Warriors is a book series about a band of warrior cats.  Yes, warrior cats. It is interminably dense.

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Girl: Mommy, you can’t go to work anymore!

Me: Why not?

Girl: Because I will miss your big, fat, belly too much!

We then got into a belly comparison of who had the fatter belly. I still won.

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Girl, having a fit, having been told to go to her room, top of her lungs: OKAY! YOU ANNOYINGPANTS!

The next morning, Eric says: Girl, remember last night when you were having your fit and you called your mom “Annoyingpants”?

Girl: I called BOTH of you Annoyingpants!

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One night we went to the Mercury Cafe-the Boy’s guitar teacher’s band was playing. We got there early and the boy asked if he could go outside and run around a bit, to which I replied that no, it’s night time in a bad neighborhood so he needed to stay inside.

Ten minutes later, the girl asks: Are there hyenas here?

Me: No…there’s no hyenas around here. Why do you ask?

Girl: Well, you said it was a dangerous neighborhood, so I thought there must be hyenas!

I just love that in her mind, there is nothing that could make a neighborhood dangerous except hyenas. Of course.

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Me, to half naked girl: Girl, go upstairs and put a shirt on!

Girl: Okay!

She runs upstairs as fast as she can, then sprints downstairs. As soon as she hits the landing, she says: Fu-yoo! (her 2 syllable version of “phew!”) I made it!

Me: From what?

Girl: Oh, whenever I go upstairs to get something I pretend there are wolves there so I have to go fast and escape them.I escaped them this time!

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And lastly, one morning the light was streaming through the blinds brightly, so I lowered them.

Girl: I HATE the sun!

Me: Oh, really? Well, then you must be a vampire.

Girl, dead serious, knitting her brow: You think I am a vampire? For real life? (side note: this is one of her favorite expressions these days, and I’ll be sad when she loses it. Instead of saying “for real,” she says this.)

Me: Yeah.  I mean, if you don’t like the sun then you must be a vampire.

Girl: Mom, I would NEVER suck your blood.

She then leans over, clamps her little mouth onto my forearm for a moment, and then releases me.

Girl: See? I can’t suck your blood. I am not a vampire.

I guess that proves it.  My daughter is NOT a vampire who has a horrible life and escapes wolves upstairs. My son has faced too much death lately and believes in the ACLU.

More Chatter

Another installment in “Tales…from Parenting….” (cue spooky music)

We were driving and the girl started to have a nosebleed.  This is not an uncommon occurence here as it is so unbelievably dry. The kids are both pretty used to it and she exclaimed “Mommy! I have a bloody nose!” I looked in the rearview mirror and indeed, there was blood dripping out of her nose.  I looked in the center console of the car for a tissue or napkin or fabric anything and couldn’t find anything.  Anything, that is…except a tampon.  Aaaaaand, yeah, I did.  It was one of those ones without an applicator.  I unwrapped the plastic covering and handed to her, telling her to stick that in her nose but not push too far. Given that it’s meant to soak up blood, the device worked quite well and the bleeding soon stopped. (Medical aside–this is really not all that different from the actual medical device used to stop serious nosebleeds, but those are generally a bit smaller. And come with more appropriate names like, “Rhino Rocket.”) Of course, the boy asked me what that thing was, and so I told him as simply as possible. “Oh, okay,” he said.  And the day proceeded.

Later, the same day…we’ve been listening to the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy audiobooks while we drive.  We’ve listened to “The Hobbit” (11 hours) and “The Fellowship of the Ring” (19 hours) and are now on “The Two Towers.”  (about 8 hours in)  The boy loves the stories (as do I, a longtime fan) and I’d always thought that the girl did too, though I’ve always thought her comprehension of the books was around fifty percent or so of what was actually happening. The other day we were heading home from the Art Museum and I started to put on the audiobook. I was really looking forward to it as we had just finished the Battle of Helm’s Deep and I wanted to hear what was going to happen next.  As the narrator started to speak, the girl exclaimed, “Not Lord of the Rings AGAIN!!!” I said, “Girl, I thought you liked listening to these books!” She replied, “Not anymore! They are boring, boring, boring!! All they do is walk and walk and then fight a battle and then walk some more!!” I burst out laughing-even I have to admit that that is the most succinct and accurate book review of the entire series that I’ve heard yet. (We still kept listening to the book anyway, despite the howling protests.)

We were in the pool and I was playing with the girl.  We started to sing “Ring Around the Rosy” and spin around.  “Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posy, ” I sang, “Ashes, Ash—” “NOOO! YOU CAN’T SING THAT PART!” The girl interrupted. “Um, why not?” I asked.  “Because,” she replied, matter-of-factly, “the Wanderers will come.  And they will kill us.” Now I was slightly terrified, in a children-of-the-corn sort of way, so I modified the song.  Now we sing “ring around the pool,” and instead of ashes it’s “elephants, elephants, we all fall down,” thus confunding the Wanderers away from our souls.

and lastly, just to throw a picture in there…

Beware the toothless vampire!!

Beware the toothless vampire!!

Chatterboxes, next up

Another installment in the “kids say the darndest things” episodes of this blog.

So, the boy has a best friend at school, who I’ll call Jake.  I tried writing this with just the kid’s first initial but it ended up sounding vulgar, you figure out which letter it is. One day Jake’s mother tells me that Jake told her that when he grew up, he was going to marry my son and they were going to “live in a house, shaped like a cake, surrounded by a lot of mist.” That in itself was adorable, and then a few days later when I was talking with the boy, I said, “So, I hear that you and Jake are going to live together in a house shaped like a cake, surrounded by mist.” And he replied, with a sigh, “We just love mist so much.”

Recently I posted on Facebook that I’m teaching the girl that leggings are not pants, which was tested not long after. One morning, after getting dressed, she came to brush her teeth.  I noticed that she was wearing a tshirt with leggings only. “Girl, you’ll have to put a skirt on.  You’re only wearing leggings.”  She got very, very serious, and said, “Mom, I need to tell you something.” She sat down on the bathroom stool and had me sit down on the edge of the bathtub to make her point. “I’m a kid,” she continued, looking me straight in the eye, “And kids wear leggings as pants.” I raised my eyebrows and replied, “Not in this house they don’t!” and went off to find her a pair of actual pants. The boy, later hearing me tell this story to Eric, said offhandedly “That’s spooky.” “Huh?” I said, not really understanding, “what’s spooky about that?” “Well, it just means that she’s growing up,” he said sagely.

We were out of coffee one morning (quel horreur!) and I took the boy with me to walk to the corner coffeeshop to get some. As we walked, he looked up at me and asked, “Mom, can I ask you something?” “Sure,” I said.  “Well, who are robbers, usually? Are they people like us, are they homeless people, or are they really really rich people?”  (?!)

And finally, one day after a rather tough afternoon for the girl, and then a tough dinner where we were kind of yelling at her for misbehaving, she just lost it.  She burst into tears and sobbed out, “I’m just a little, little girl, and my life is SO HARD!!’

Tantrum x 2

Last night after a day of playing in the snow, the kids were exhausted. I tried reading to the girl but she was so distracted from fatigue I kind of gave up. Below is what ensued.

On a different note, I’m wondering at what age you stop posting embarrassing things about your kids out of a respect for their privacy. The boy already tells me what not to post. I think the girl is getting close…but here’s one last one anyway.

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Poems

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Monday morning comics

So much of what is fun about having kids isn’t the big events-it’s the little things that they say or do that can keep you in stitches.  Don’t get me wrong, my kids can drive me batty at times and there are plenty of times I yell at them, but really there’s so much that just cracks me up.

Before I forget these I just want to keep a record of some of them so that we have a way to remember, so here’s a list of some of the recent ones, in no particular order.  (sorry for the poor formatting, wordpress is a bit hampering that way)

Walking in from afterschool

Boy, pulling me aside: “Can I talk to you about something?” he says in a soft voice.

Me: “Of course, what is it?”

Boy: “Well, sometimes when I hit my sister, it takes her a long time to start crying.  I’m really worried that the signals aren’t getting to her brain fast enough. Maybe you should take her to a doctor to get her checked out.”

Reading “Oh The Places You’ll Go” at bedtime with both kids:

Me: “…you can steer yourself any direction you choose!”

Girl: “That’s not true.”

Me: “What?”

Girl: “That’s not true for little kids.  You have to steer youself where grownups tell you.”

Boy: “Yeah.  At least until you’re 10, I think.”

Driving back from school

Eric: “Girl, what do you love most in the world?”

Girl: “My whoooole family.  Even brother.  Even you and mommy when you are being mean to me.”

Love triangles of the preschool set

Me: “Are you still friends with that little boy A?”

Girl: “Well, I not so much friends with A anymore.  A was in love with me but I was in love with B. But then I got sad because B wasn’t in love with me but was in love with C.  And then A was sad because I wasn’t in love with him. Now, no one is in love with me. That makes me sad.”

On choosing a travel destination

Boy: “Mom, can we not travel to China, ever?! Let’s just have good Chinese food when we go to Japan.”

Me: “Why not? “(ignoring the food comment)

Boy: “Because! They are friends with North Korea!! And you have to be very controlled in North Korea! It’s not like South Korea where you can be free.  You need documents and government permission and can never leave.”

Fixing an injury

Girl, crying and crying in bed after bumping her knee: “Wahhhhh”

Me, coming over to comfort her, and leaning over to give her a hug.

Girl: “Waaahhhhh Waaa-Mom, are those new earrings? They are beautiful—Waaaahhhh”

Me, rolling my eyes at her clearly severe injury.

There are so, so many more and I wish I had time to write them all in when they happen and I want to get better about it.  Now that they’re both older and really talking, it’s nearly constant.

Cheetahs never…

The other morning, the boy was in the bathroom down the hall and the girl was keeping him company by sitting outside the closed door and chatting with him.  All of a sudden, she yelled down the hall “MOM! Brother says that there are cheetahs in Asia!! He is WRONG!”

I think about this for a second, and then yell back down, “Kid, there’s no cheetahs in Asia.  They’re only in Africa!”

He yells back (still in bathroom), “NO! There are cheetahs in Asia! They live in Iran!”

Still doubtful, I use my google-fu to learn that, well, shit, there ARE cheetahs in Iran.

“You’re right, actually! How did you know that?!” I asked him.

“‘Cause we’re learning about Asia and we just did a part on Iran,” he replies.

And all I can think is that I’m now living with someone who’s going to be an even more insufferable know-it-all than myself.