Funny Old Men

I was sitting at the front desk at work and an older man came up with a rattty old ziplock filled with old people candy. Butterscotches, Werthers, and those cinnamon hard candies. I think they must have a senior citizen store to buy those because I never see them at the store. Of course, I usually have whirly-helicopter-suckers-on-steriods shoved in my face to "watch watch WATCH!" so maybe that's why I don't see the senior citizen candies.

This little old man handed me the bag and said, "You're still here? Have some candy!" My instinct was to decline. Candy from a stranger. Ratty ol' bag, etc. But then I realized he'd never have to know that I wasn't going to eat it AND I was sitting behind bullet-proof glass, so I'd probably be okay taking candy from a stranger. This one time.

He goes, "You can have a sucker, they have my name on them!" I thought that was interesting that he had personalized suckers. I pulled one out. It was a DUM DUM. I laughed, but he laughed harder. I grabbed a butterscotch candy. He said, "those candies are the darndest things, sometimes they pop out of the wrapper---but it's okay, I just lick them and put them back in and they stay better." I totally guffawed. I love funny old men. Actually, I like funny anything.

J fixed my computer. Yay J!

All We Need Is Just A Little Patience

Still no computer. The donation idea flopped, so maybe you all can start sending my husband some hate mail. All two of you reading this. Hi Mom!

Today Avee stumbled a bit with the wii remote trying to start a game. Bo laughed at her, and apparently so did Danyo. Avee slugged Bo and Bo, still laughing said, "If you are going to hit me for laughing at you, then you have to be fair and hit Danyo too because he was also laughing at you." I kind of chuckled at Bo's logic and complete shamelessness at throwing his three year old brother under the bus. Danyo giggled. Avee's face was crumpling. She does NOT like to be laughed at. I quickly said, "The difference was, Danyo wasn't laughing at her, he was just laughing." Danyo began nodding emphatically and said, "No, I was laughing at her." We all burst out laughing. I tried to save him and he wouldn't let me.

Today I was perusing Bo's homework. He had read a paragraph about Jen and her "Special Talent". It talked about how she tried the guitar like her two older brothers, but she just wasn't good and it frustrated her a lot. She tried the drums, and BAM, she was amazing. She had found her special talent.

There were three questions following this story. What would be a good title for this story? Bo answered, "Jen's Special Talent". Excellent answer. Then they asked another question about the guitar or something. Then it said, "Write one sentence from the story that is not about the main idea." Bo wrote, "Jen likes ice cream." I laughed when I saw it and then immediately thought that I had lacked in the reading comprehension and missed the part about the ice cream. I reread it. Bo had indeed made up Jen liking ice cream. It really struck my funny bone. I could picture him trying to think of a sentence that wasn't the main idea, that could probably be universally accepted. Well, everyone likes ice cream, right? Really, it's hard to go wrong with that. As per usual, he was watching me like a hawk as I reviewed his school work. He asked me what was so funny and I told him. I said, "the story doesn't say anything about ice cream and you just randomly put that in there!" He countered, "It said a sentence that wasn't the main idea, ice cream was never mentioned, so it wasn't the main idea!"

On Sunday on the way to church Bo was asking me what the word random meant. I typically have a hard time with definitions. I usually do examples, sometimes manage similes, but rarely swing a bonafide definition. This was no exception. I gave him an example of how you could be talking about the weather with someone and they suddenly say, "I like carrots!" He thought that was hilarious.

Later, I got to teach his little class. The lesson was on the Sabbath Day. I told them the story of Jesus healing a man on the Sabbath and the Pharisees trying to trip Jesus up and trick him into saying that was wrong. After telling about Jesus healing the man, I said, "Do you know what day Jesus healed this man's hand?" A little girl in the class said, "Oh please say it was a Wednesday!" I burst out laughing and turned to Bo---"That's random." He was thrilled to be able to witness random firsthand. Although, Avee is about as consistently random as she is consistently anything else.

I have put a couple of notes in Avee's lunch for school. She notices stuff like that. I did it once or twice for Bo and both times he thought I'd included a napkin made of copy paper cut in the shape of a heart. Not surprising. So, I was delighted when I was going through Avee's lunch box, to find a little note she had written. She drew a picture of herself, labeled it, and put it in her lunchbox for me to find. Pretty much the cutest thing she's done all week. I love when she imitates me. Most of the time.

Neither of my kids will talk to me about school. I know it's me, but I sure wish out of two school-aged children, I had at least ONE chatterbox. I mean, Bo will talk nonstop about a freaking tv episode he watched 8 months ago. And Avee will spend 20 minutes prefacing a request for some ice cream ("remember the time we were in the van and there was snow on the ground and Bo said he was mad about Dad taking his nunchucks away I asked you if we could have ice cream and den Danyo started kicking the back of yo' chair and you didn't answer me and den I said, 'Mooooom' and you said 'oh yeah' and...)----but when it comes to knowing about the 6 and a half hours they are away from me----I get nothing. Any ideas? Any suggestions. Every once in a while I'll get a little something. But she doesn't talk about classmates or daily activities, and anything I do manage to get is brief.

Bo is discovering his inner clown. I see it, I adore it, I recognize it as the Smith in him that it is, but I also worry. Can I teach him early enough the rules of truly making people laugh? Funny the first time, stupid the second time, and the third time you get slapped. That rule was better known in my house growing up than which side of the plate the fork goes on. I still don't know that rule. I also hope he isn't in his last year of college before he learns that jokes at the expense of others, aren't worth telling. So far he doesn't have that problem. He came downstairs tonight wearing snowpants that are too small for Danyo, a bathrobe, and some other bizarre accessory, while we had company and said, "I'm on a mission to save the world!" He looked ridiculous. I love that he's coming into himself and not so caught up in what others think. I so want confident children.

My efforts to have confident children have mostly consisted of calling them bad names all the time, so that when other people do, they don't feel so bad.

I think it's working.

J's walking around the house right now holding his pinky out like the delicate flower that it is. He's looking for a band-aid, but he ain't gonna find one. About 27% of our house is packed in boxes right now, and I happen to know for a fact one of those boxes has our supply of band-aids. Oh, never mind, it's all good---he just put some packing tape on his finger. True story.

Everyday I think, "I need to record that" but now I sit here and nothing else is coming up. I think I need to record some of the things that Danyo says a lot. He's pretty dang ornery. And funny.

"Yo MEAN Dad!"
"Yo MEAN Mom!"
"I'm crying cuz Bo was mean to me!"
"Avee said no, that's why I'm so sad! She's MEAN!"

Repeat 12 times a day.

He says, "I HATE this." I secretly love it because he says it anytime he is mad or frustrated, but he says it like a fit throwing 16 year old girl.

"I said I love you TOO!" This comes after an I love you, and sometimes just alone. But it is always said quite angrily. I am not sure of what his expectation of the conversation is, but once he says this, it's clear I haven't met it.

"What's your name?" He chats with everyone.

I was at the thrift store yesterday when a very lovely looking lady who may or may not have been intoxicated and definitely had a speech impediment not unsimilar to Avee's, struck up conversation with my "good luckin' boy". Danyo answered her questions, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to engage in a full-on conversation with her. She finally moved on and Danyo said, "That was nice. But she couldn't talk."

Already the kid has about 2000% more tact than his sister. The one who pointed and loudly exclaimed "That lady is SO SHORT like a kid and she's a GROWN-UP!" when we were at Sams Club on Saturday.

Let's see, more Danyo phrases. Oh yeah, "Mom, I want sumping." It means he's got the munchies. Caillou gives him the munchies. Not even lying.

I guess that's all for now.

I hope to be back before my kids are in junior high.

Stolen Computer Time

So, it's not entirely my fault I'm not blogging. Our computer is crap and it won't stay on. That's the issue with it THIS week. Stoopit computer.

I'm at my friend's house, using her computer. It's a funny story. Kind of. She's hosting the monthly potluck and I, in true form, forgot about it. But another friend called and said I had to come because her little guy was walking around the house saying Danyo's name over and over. I quickly finished my phone conversation, brushed my teeth, turned Danyo's shirt and shorts around, ran to the convenient store and got a bag of Doritos and zipped over. Only, I was 25 minutes early. I'm NEVER early. Ever. So, I get to blog at her house.

I have stories I need to record.

Like this morning when Danyo was dressing himself (truly adorable) he holds up his undies and peeks down into them and declares, "Der aw clean, no poop on dese!" I have no idea why he does that. He put his shirt on and while it was stuck briefly on the top of his head he called out. "Where is me? Where are I?" Ohhhhhh how I love the pronoun exploration of little kids.

Danyo and I are enjoying our mornings of toodling around, running errands, visiting friends, or watching mindless tv and afternoons napping. I could really get used to this.

Avee loves Kindergarten. She has the same teacher for PE and Art. So everyday when I ask her what her favorite part of the day was, she tells me it was "gym". I thought it so odd that she was having gym so frequently. The yesterday she said, "Gym! We made stuff with clay!!" Then I remembered Kindergartners have the same teacher for art and PE. Bo and I got a good laugh out of that.

I've had some interesting conversations with her lately. Two days ago she was trying to convince me to make mashed potatoes for dinner. Since I was almost done with the very time consuming chicken and rice dish, I denied her. She harumphed, "I wish I was mashed potatoes so I could just eat myself and then turn back into a human and enjoy what I just ate."

If you tell me there is another girl out there with a brain that works like that, I might not believe you.

Two other things she's done that are related, and naughty. Just so she knows in 20 years what she did to me. A week or so ago at dinner I was getting after her for griping about the food, or playing with it, or something. She has always been extremely sensitive to scolding or being "wrong". She didn't like what I was doing. So she got a very....I can't describe it exactly, a look of warning, as though to say, "You're about to really get it, and there's nothing I can do about what you'll get..." She slowly held up her fist, and slowly concentrated on raising her middle finger. Bo had taught her a week or so prior that it was something bad. How bad, she had no idea. How inappropriate to use it as a counter-scold----she had no idea. I said very sternly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, that is very naughty and you'll get in a lot of trouble." And then I bolted upstairs and fell on my bed laughing until I cried. There's no way I could recapture her expression or what she thought she was doing, but I have to record it for my own memory.

Then two nights ago she accidentally splashed a big cup of water out of the tub. It really was an accident, I saw the whole thing. The thing is, the last time they splashed water out of the tub, by the gallons full (no exaggeration), J could be heard yelling when I pulled up in the car. They don'[t dump water out of the tub anymore.

So when Avee did, she immediately jumped up and said in her perfect imitation stressed and annoyed me, "Dammit. That was really an accident Mom." I ducked down quickly with the towel to wipe it up. She canNOT see me laugh.

I rarely say that word. And I only say it when I'm at my wits end. She said it exactly like that.

I love that girl.

Bo makes me laugh everyday, but I have a harder time remembering his lines. He thinks he is HILARIOUS. Perhaps that detracts from his actual hilarity. For example, one of our friends just had her appendix removed. Bo accidentally referred to it as her kidney. When he realized his mistake, he thought it was so funny and about every three hours made reference to her kidney being removed. Quickly followed up with, "I know it's her....what is that word... oh yeah, appendix, I'm just joking!"

See? Hilarious.

I know y'all want pictures of J with long hair. Here's the thing, I may have been somewhat misleading. He doesn't have long hair. He's barely long enough that people are noticing he isn't cutting it. I'll post a picture as soon as he buys me a nice computer I can use. Deal? Okay.

I'll attach a donation link to expedite the process.

Well, people are here and I'm being anti-social, blogging at a potluck. I'm sort of a rebel that way though.

See you next time I'm early somewhere, or get a new computer!

First Day of Kindergarten

Today I took Avee to Kindergarten. Tiny, sweet, Avee. I started blogging on her first birthday. Granted, it was about Bo--but he was this hilarious little two-year-old at the time.

As I walked away from her classroom, she was sitting on an alphabet carpet with her little princess lunchbox in her lap, and the tears started to flow. I was entirely unprepared for that. ENTIRELY. I have felt some nostalgia and some pangs of sadness at this chapter in our lives ending, as a new one begins, but I did not expect tears.

My letter to Avee on her first day of Kindergarten.

Dear Avee,
You have been apprehensive, skeptical, and outright uninterested in going to school. This attitude about school is somewhat foreign to me. You are a perfectionist in some ways---some really strange ways, so I guess it makes sense. You like to be sure of yourself, you like to have the answers, you don't like feeling shy or facing the unknown. But you also don't believe us when we tell you that very quickly you will see just how many answers you have, how many friends you will have, and how you will love going to school every day. You absolutely think we are lying to you.

Today when I woke you up for school (do you know how much it kills me to have to wake a child up?!) you threw the pillow back over your head like a hung over college student. It totally cracked me up.

You had a new pretty outfit to wear and that got you going a little bit, but once the cute outfit was on and the shiny new shoes were on, the thrill was over.

We were in a rush, I wish I could have pulled you on my lap and snuggled you just a little longer. I wish I could have whispered just a few more times in your ear what a great kindergartner you will be. I really wish I never had to let you go.

Here's a little secret Avee. I want you to stay home with me just as much as you want to. I want you to "be my baby for 80 years" just as much as you want to be. I want to hold you, snuggle you, rock you, never let you go. But one of the difficult parts of growing up is doing things you may not want to but are the best for you. You are growing up!

You don't know that tears streamed down my face as I walked away from your classroom this morning. I know if you had seen that, it would have been all the evidence you'd need to never go to school again. I knew you were okay. I knew you were in good hands. I know that your teacher will love you and protect you and teach you. I know without a doubt that you will love Kindergarten.

I felt silly crying, but everyone around me knows how it feels. Someone told me "College is worse!" and another said, "You still cry even when you are a Grandma" And one of mom's friends called out to me and it was nice to have a friend who knew I wasn't a big baby and knew what it was like to let a little girl go to Kindergarten by herself. Then another friend gave me a hug and reminded me that you would be just fine. Even though I know this, and I tell you all the time, I still need to be reminded.

From the moment you were born you have brought me new life experiences. You were a tiny, perfect little bundle of sweetness. You scored a perfect 10 on the Apgar. We only kind of knew what that meant, but the doctor and nurses said with some incredulity, "She scored a perfect 10, that hardly ever happens!"

We knew you were a perfect 10. We weren't surprised at all.

As a newborn you insisted on being near me, even when you were asleep. If I left the house while you were sleeping, I could almost count the seconds before I'd get a phone call, "Avee's awake and inconsolable."

You have always known what you wanted and have always managed to get it, one way or another. When we implemented a "eat your dinner or go get ready for bed" rule, you made getting ready for bed at 5:30 pm the new hot, cool thing to do. When you broke your leg, you made other kids wish they had a cast. You made cast walking a new art form and could slide a good two feet down the hallway of the YMCA. You are sweet and kind-hearted and strong-willed and hot-tempered. You don't get mad easily but when you do, you really blow. It's really quite cute. But I usually don't tell you that.

You didn't want to turn three because you wanted to wear diapers forever. You insisted you were four "pour" because you wanted to be able to use markers at the YMCA childcare center. You potty-trained in a day without any help from me because you wanted a bike. You still ask to sit in high chairs at restaurants. You love and nurture and care for Danyo like he's your own child, but you whacked him good yesterday when he kicked you in the face. You adore Daddy, but not when he tells you what to do. You are obedient, opinionated, smart, hard-working, funny, and quirky.

Every day is like a little surprise with you. I think I have a handle on you, and I never really do. You keep the rules to the letter on some things, and you make rules up on other things. Like, how many days in a week is arbitrary, and whether or not I should go to work really should be your decision. But you brush your teeth like a champ without being asked, always put on pajamas the first time you are asked, know how to clean the living room like no other 5 year old, and get annoyed when we leave lights on at night so you won't be scared.

Not getting to be with you all day every day is sad for me. I love to be with you. I love your hugs, your kisses, your rule making ("If I brush my hair, then you have to buy me some chocolate today at the store") your insistence that you haven't had breakfast so you can't have lunch yet, your tenderness with Danyo, your tv addiction...

I know there are so many good years of wonderful in store with you as my daughter. I am sad that the "baby" years are officially over today. You will always be my baby, but now I have to share you.

You've been in school for an hour and a half. I got an email and a phone call telling me that you have a big smile and look like you are just fine. This is what I knew would happen, but I'm so happy to have confirmation.

Happy First Day of Kindergarten my little love!
Love, Mom
p.s. I really got a kick out of you saying over and over that today was Bo's 2nd day of 2nd grade.
p.p.s You probably won't remember this, but Bo was SO excited for you to start Kindergarten today, it was really tender. He knows you will love school and he's so happy to have his sister at his school.

Leopards and Haircuts

I was just coming out of the bathroom this morning after my shower. Danyo rushed past me stating his urgency in washing his hands. "I need to wash my haaaaaans. I need to wash my hans right nooooow."

A 3 year old boy that willingly washes his hands is a little bit of a red flag. I was curious to find what he'd gotten on his hands. I watched as he rushed back out of the bathroom and into Avee who was sitting on my bed holding a little beanie baby leopard. "I washt my haaans Avwee!" She promptly handed him her baby leopard.

I laughed out loud. Only Avee could get a little boy to wash his hands to hold a beanie baby. It's been a long time since we've been around a "wash your hands first" baby, but I guess the principal has stuck.

This is where a segway would go.

J is growing out his hair. I say this with a slight eye-roll for a couple of reasons. When we first got married, J was constantly asking me to cut his hair. I don't know how to cut hair. I didn't even know how to handle clippers. It was a bad idea all around. He would assure me "You can't really mess it up" and "I'm not going to care how it looks." I pushed that easy-going attitude in him to the limit. And then some.

After one particularly um, unsuccessful attempt---my friend called me as I was driving to work. At the time J was working a temp job and caught the bus just down the street from our apartment.

She said, "I just drove past your husband, a skinny white-boy looking like a skinhead. Maybe you should take a bus and he can have the car; because quite frankly anything that could happen to you standing at a bus stop can't be as bad as what could happen to him in your neighborhood looking like that."

Periodically over the years I've suggested that J let his hair grow a little, just to see what happens. He could never get past like 1/2 an inch in length before it was driving him crazy or he felt frumpy looking.

Suddenly he decided to grow it long.

He's been "growing" it for probably six months now. I think people just started noticing last month. He's got miles to go before he's got the hippie-do he's hoping for.

And he still doesn't really like hair touching his forehead, but he's hoping that will change.

Yesterday, he got his hair "cut". He "consulted" a "stylist". He's cleaned up and has an action plan for this long hair growing endeavor.

AND.

He bought product.

He walked in the door and announced that he'd gotten his hair cut. Which, he had to do, because I was sooooo the male in that conversation---I did not notice.

He held up a big silver can of...something.

"I got this too."

I burst out laughing. "Really J? You just can't say no?"

He cast his eyes down. I'm sure he was thinking of the bottle of unused product in the bathroom. The one that was going to revolutionize the way his hair looked and totally worth the $27 an ounce he'd paid.

"How much did it cost?" I ask him.

"I'm ashamed to say," he admits.

I look at the bottle. It's skinny and it can't be much in volume (but oh! the volume it will give his hair!). I guess that it was $10.

More.

More.

More....

Yeah, I was laughing, and pointing and ridiculing without mercy.

He stood there and took the abuse too.

This man can is so tight he can get a booger out of Lincoln's nose. But apparently talking to him with his chopped hair on the floor is his kryptonite.

Heeeeeeey, maybe I should start cutting his hair for him again and THEN ask him for things when I'm done, before we've cleaned up.

Working For The Weekend 'Round Here

Several months ago I was on the phone with my sister that lives in England and I was relating a current funny from my kids. She encouraged me to "record it all". She doesn't really read my blog, so I thought that was funny. I did however start a blog specifically for kid quotes. That was in November last year. I have exactly one story for Avee and one for Bo.

Avee has been a laugh a minute for me today and I started thinking about this blog I never kept. The story on there needs to be shared.

But first, today's recordables:

We went to a drive-in movie last night. Everyone knows the best part of the drive in is all the crap food you bring. We overloaded. This morning, Avee who has been recently conscientious about what is good for you, announced as she walked toward the bathroom, "I gotta go poop all this gawbage outta me!"

Right now she is on the phone with her friend and they both had something "the same" and her friend said, "we're twins!" and Avee said, "Yeah, in God's way!" I do not even know what that means.

"Mom, we aren't allowed to say 'What da heck' because it says 'duh'. Right? See, whaaat duuuuuuuuh heck!"

For some reason bratty kids saying "duh" to each other is way more disrespectful and rude than the phrase "what the heck" is. So "duh" isn't allowed at our house. In fact, I downright love it when Danyo says "what da heck!?" You probably would too.

Okay, so, for last November. Most people who know me have heard the Avee one. It's probably my favorite Avee story of all time.
(she was 4 and a half at the time)
Avery has decided she doesn't like her freckles. It might have to do with now being in preschool and having a friend that she compares appearances with. So in an effort to convince her they are wonderful, I told her that her freckles were angel kisses. And that when she left heaven to come be in our family, the angels were so sad to see her go because they were going to miss her, they kissed her over and over and over, all over her face. She really loved that story. Her face lit up and she got a cute little smile she gets when she feels favored. I really thought that story did the trick.

About a week later I heard her muttering about her darn freckles. I assumed it was a habit and I reminded her where those freckles came from. Then I hear her grumpily complain, "I hate all these freckles, I wish Jesus just kept his hands to himself!"


Bo got caught eating a second chocolate from a box of chocolates I received as a gift. I started griping at him because he would have eaten the whole box without batting an eye. I said, 'This is why I hide stuff and don't let you have my things, because you would have just kept eating all of my candy if I hadn't stopped you just now."

I prepared for his objections, I mean, honestly---who wants to be accused so blatantly of such gluttony?

He responded kind of slowly, "Well.........yeah..........that's true."

So very Avee, so very Bo.

Of Course It Had To Be Gibby

Avee just told me she prayed last night that her and her friends wouldn't die. I bet that was a terribly cute little prayer she said. I asked her why she thought she would die. This conversation ensued:
Avee: When I get old. We're all going to die someday you know.
Me: Yes, I do know. But you don't have to be afraid of dying, when you die you go to heaven and live with God--you don't stay dead.
Avee: Yeah, yeah, I know. But...will I be able to come back here to Iowa after I die?

I believe I've heard it all.

Shortly after that cute little conversation she added, "You're gonna die fohst because your the oldest!"

I spanked her and sent her to her room.

This morning Danyo flooded my bathroom. Full on flooded, 2-3 inches of water streaming out. I've always been afraid of that happening and today it happened and I hardly batted an eye. Okay, that's a lie, I wigged out for about 2 seconds. Literally. I realized he put an entire roll of toilet paper down there so I could remedy the situation fairly quickly. That was a waste of about 75 cents and 5 clean towels though.

Pretty much that's the most exciting thing that's happened all day.

Avee who wore a sundress all last winter keeps coming downstairs in the morning wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts. I laugh every time. It reminds me of how when people have newborns they say, "They have day and night confused" which, in and of itself, makes me laugh. Poor newborn, can't quite figure out when in their 24 hours of sleeping, pooping and crying, they are supposed to do one more than the other. Avee can't quite get her seasons figured out. I think that might mean we are supposed to live in California.

Although, today is the second day in a row she has been "Gibby". Of all the characters on all the tv shows and movies in all the world, this is who she wants to imitate? In case you don't know Gibby, he's a character on ICarly. Gibby's trademark is not liking to wear shirts.
I promised Bo the computer and I'm pretty sure I can hear Avee upstairs hammering nails into the wall. I wish I was joking.