That Post Where We Talk About Why My Kids Think I'm A Fraud

The Boy Child is the kind of kid, that when his feet hit the ground in the morning, he takes off running and doesn't stop until after he is in bed at night.

But not that long ago, he surprised me by waking up and climbing into my bed to snuggle. Not wanting to waste any of that precious time, I took the opportunity to ask him a few questions about life.

"So buddy," I inquired. "Tell me about your friends at school. Who do you like to play with?"

"I play with Samuel" he replied. (Not his real name)

"Oh," I said, hoping for a bit more. "And what is Samuel like?"

Being six, The Boy Child went for the most obvious answer, and began to describe Samuel's physical appearance to me. "He has black skin and brown hair..."

Thinking that this might be the perfect time to expand on his observances, to include a discussion about looking past skin color, I said in my teaching-mom-voice, "isn't it neat that we all look different? The only thing that matters is" and then he interrupted me.

A Uniboat, A Big Ass Dog, And A Week With My Kids

It's been a while since I've let you all into the craziness that is my life with my particular two children, and I have to admit, I am still laughing at some of the things they've said this week. And since I've never been one to hold back the parts of me that make me look bad, I figured why the hell not share some of this with you, even though yea, it probably doesn't make me look the best.

Like any of you are perfect either.

Therefore I bring you, the next installment of "Conversations I Didn't Think I'd Be Having This Week: Kid Edition."

I went out with a friend the other night, and this is what The Guy sent me while I was gone. Looks like they had fun!

Monday: 

We are driving down the street, when The Boy Child excitedly yells out to everyone else in the car, "Look! A uniboat!"

Not having any idea what a uniboat is, I turn to my left, and see hanging in the window of a sporting goods store, a kayak; you know, a boat for one person.

In other words, a uniboat.

Right on little man!

Found him watching TV like this. Yep, seems normal.

Tuesday:

I Like Your Fuzzy Balls Daddy, And Other Things You Never Want To Hear Your Children Say (A Lesson In Context)

So, after several weeks of living in a hotel after our house flooded, we finally came home on Sunday. Sure we don't have working appliances, bathroom doors, and a lot of other things that many people would consider a necessity in their house, but at least we are home where we will continue to rebuild.

But, before we left the hotel, this happened:

#IWillPostANoMakeUpSelfie  #IWillAlsoMakeItBlackAndWhite #BlackAndWhiteHidesMyPale

#NoShame  #Lies

And I laugh, because I am a dork, and then I look at my kids and laugh even harder, because poor kids, they are turning out just like me. And I can prove it, by sharing a week with you that we had right before our house flooded.

Finally, Another Episode Of "Conversations I Didn't Think I Would Be Having This Week"

A few days ago, The Boy Child came home from school with this picture of Abe Lincoln in his folder:

Not knowing if it was some kind of homework, I asked him what it was.

Boy Child: (Looks at me like I'm an idiot) "That's Abraham Lincoln. He is dead."

Me: "Yep. yes he is. What is this for?"

Boy Child: "He is dead!"

Me: "I know he is dead, but what do we need this paper for?"

Boy Child: "He was watching a play, and he got shot in the ear, and now he is dead."

Me: "Uh, interesting lesson for a kindergartner, but what is this paper for? Are we supposed to be doing something with it?"

Boy Child: (Clearly exasperated) Shouts "Don't you even care if he is dead!?"

Me: (Also exasperated) "Yes, of course I care that he died, but what are you supposed to be doing with this picture of him?"

Boy Child: "IT'S BECAUSE HE DIED."

So This Is What It's Like To Be Married To Me

So I can't figure out why the alignment is all messed up in this post, and things are justified left, and right, and center, and I can't change it AND I GIVE UP.

Moving on...

I'm sorry again for my delay in posting. I swear I feel like I do more apologizing than writing here these days! After my fun little poisioning experience, I was sick for a solid week. Like no joke sick; blood pressure issues, heart rate issues, brain fog, stomach ache, headache, and everything hurt. After all the IV attempts where my veins kept collapsing, even my hands hurt too much to type.

But, I'm finally feeling better! I got up today, went to the gym, got some work done, and am happy to report that for the first day in a week, I didn't end up curled up in bed crying in pain. So, yay for progress.

And while I was taking some time to rest, I read an article in which a woman had posted ten texts between her and her husband, that she felt completely summed up her marriage. As a writer, I usually try to see how other works may be applicable to my own life... but this one killed me.

Because really, do you want to see what it's like to be married to me?

The Guy is gray, and I am blue

I'm not really sure what this says about us.

They Just Never Stop Talking

I swear, my kids have been extra weird lately. Like not even the "typical" weird that I've gotten used to and come to expect, but a whole new level of weird that I was not even aware existed until recently.

Allow me to explain:

Sunday:

After catching sight of a male friend's hairy legs (it's finally shorts season!), I overheard The Boy Child asking his sister if she thought our friend was turning into a monster.

It's moments like this that cause me to realize what the lack of testosterone living in our house has done to The Boy Child.

#SorryKid

Monday:

I was putting my makeup on and very intently looking in the mirror, when The Boy Child came to the door and asked "Momma, will you put batteries in these?"

Turning to see what toys he was referring to, I was greeted by this:

Straight From The Mouths Of The Little People I Live With

As usual, things have not "normalized" around here, meaning that my kids are just as weird as ever. I mean I can't blame them since they have me as their mother, but still, I'm pretty strange, so if I'm constantly being caught off guard by how strange my kids are... well then that's saying something.

Nothing to see here people, move along.

Sorry folks, I don't have normal kids. I just don't.

And to further prove my point, allow me to present to you, exhibits Sunday-Saturday:

Sunday:

The Boy Child, after stepping directly into a wet spot on the carpet that I had just cleaned with a heavy duty carpet cleaning solution, looked a little startled and then assured me "don't worry mom, it didn't burn the shit out of me like you said if would if I touched it."

He then ran off to watch the breakfast cookies bake while I pondered my parenting failures.

*************

It's That Time Again, Welcome To "Conversations I Didn't Think I Would Be Having This Week!"

I don't know about you, but I'm just not really sure if I even know what "normal" is anymore. I think it used to be some kind of goal that I was striving for, but at some point I gave up and settled comfortably into this:

Monday:

I was getting ready for work and out of the corner of my eye, I caught site of The Girl Child staring at me.

Me: "What?"

Her: "Are you sad that you only have like 30 more years of living left?"

Me: Stares at her in what must have been a shocked and somewhat annoyed looking expression.

Her: "What? I didn't say I was happy about it either."

Tuesday:

The route that we take to get to daycare has us go over a bridge and through an intersection. At the intersection the north/south street has a stop sign on either side, and the east/west street (the bridge) does not. So if you are coming off or going onto the bridge you don't have to stop, but if you are driving on the cross street you do.

Until now.

No Filter, Just Like Their Momma!

Has anyone noticed from reading this blog that I suffer an extreme and severe lack of having any sort of speech filter whatsoever? I mean I will literally say just about anything on my mind, and I'm afraid that I've passed that trait down onto my children. I mean sure, they are just kids, and only time will tell if they grow out of their childhood freedom of speech and turn into "normal," adults, but at this point I'm leaning towards the distinct possibility that they might be just a little bit more... like me.

So in the meantime, this is what it sounds like when you cram three people with no speech filters into one family.


Monday:

Tonight I asked The Boy Child to pick his clothes up from the floor and put them in the washing machine. Instead of simply doing what I asked him to do (because that would have been too easy), he said "why do you always tell me what to do?"

A bit startled that he has yet to learn the hierarchy of this family, I looked at him and said "because I'm in charge."

Peering at me, he lifted his little hand until it was directly in front of his face, and pointed his finger at me. Squinting his eyes as if he were questioning my answer, he said "why do you always say that to me?"

"Because I am your mother, this is my house, and that makes me the boss" I shot back (internally reeling as I realized how old I've gotten).

Clearly offended at my answer he threw his hands up in the air as if he were posed to catch a ball and then said "well I thought we were friends. You need to be nicer to me."

He then turned around, started to walk away, stopped, turned to face me, squinted his eyes and pointed at me again, and said "Santa is watching you ya know."

Tuesday:

Although The Girl Child seems to be a fairly bright child, there are moments when I can't help but remember that she is in fact, only 7 years old. While walking on the track at the gym with her one evening, she made reference to a friend we have that is losing his hair.

"Mom," she said, clearly deep in thought. "Maybe he should wear a hat or something when he runs on the track, just like you put your hair in a ponytail. That way all his hair would stop blowing off."

Running too fast, the new cause of male pattern baldness.

A Week With My OTHER Weirdo

As most of you know from my Facebook post, The Boy Child had a surgical follow up appointment last week. It was a week sooner than it was supposed to be but I had noticed a couple of things that had alarmed me a little bit and I wanted the doctor to take a look at him. The doctor sent him for a couple of tests before he saw him and after going over the test results, the doctor informed me that unfortunately the surgery had not been a success. I was pretty bummed, but you know what?

I can't do anything about this.

There is absolutely nothing that I can do except to wait for him to heal enough that we will be able to try again, and when that time comes, we will get through it.

We will.

But that's not today. So for now I'm choosing to turn my attention elsewhere and so today we are not going to be talking about surgery. Nope, we are going to talk about the fact that my son is crazy.

Adorable, but a total nutcase.

I actually wrote the remainder of this post back in October (when I wrote about how strange his sister was), but I never got around to posting it, and I have to tell you, he gives his sister a run for her money in the weirdo department. At just 4 years old, when he isn't busy washing his hands with a used urinal cake, he is doing other things that are just plain strange.

This is what it's like living with him for a week:

Monday:

"Let me show you the cut that I have on my finger."

***************

Tuesday:

Another Round Of "Conversations I Didn't Think I Would Be Having This Week"

I hadn't done one of my "conversation" blog posts in a while, so I made it a point last week to take a note of at least one strange conversation I had a day, because let's be honest here, it's not like I'm getting any more normal.

Monday kicked itself off to a rocking start when I was at the Chiropractic office that I work at on Monday's (that's it, I'm going to have to make them a label, they have been on here like 5 times already). Anyway, one of the chiropractors and I were going to be hosting a table together at a local festival coming up in our area — him for his practice and I for the nonprofit, but together so that we could share the cost — and I needed to know some of the details for event. As I've mentioned in other posts, he has a very dry sense of humor that unless you know him, comes off as very blunt and unfriendly.

Game on.

Me: What time are you going to get there?

Him: When I get there.

Me: OK, well how will I know if you are there?

Him: Well, if you show up and you see a tent, I'm there. If you show up and you don't see a tent, I'm not there yet. (Chuckles to himself)

Me: Well look at you Mr. Funny Man, laughing at your own jokes, so proud of how funny you think you are with your witty comebacks.

Him: (Looking slightly embarrassed, he attempts to re-route the conversation) Don't wear black. It's going to be hot, so that shirt you are wearing right now, don't wear anything like that.

(Apparently now I need help dressing myself?)

Me: I'm not going to wear black, I'm going to wear tinfoil so that all of my sun will reflect onto you. At least that way when you are standing around with that grouchy statue-like face, you will have a nice Greek tan going on.

Him: I could absolutely see you wearing a tinfoil hat.

Me: Duh, how else will the mothership find me?

And then I turned around, left, and went home.

*****************************

Tuesday:

On Tuesday a good friend and I went to go see Magic Mike XXL in the theatre. 

(P.S. it was awful. I write better text messages than that entire team of writers did coming up with a plot line, but if you were just going to see the actor's bodies, well then step right up and buy a ticket because it did not disappoint)

After the movie my friend and I were sitting in the hallway of the theatre because neither of us were quite ready to go home yet but we didn't really have time to go anywhere else. I told her that we should take a selfie and commemorate a rare outing without kids, and then at the last second I turned and pretended to kiss her.

Give Me Your Thoughts On This

Actual conversations I've had with The Girl Child this week;

"Mom, if I stick my finger in there will I be 'electrocubed'?"

"Yes kid, if you stick your finger in the socket you will be electrocuted."

....five minutes later.

"Why are you still staring at the socket?"

"I'm trying to decide if I want to risk it."

What. The. Hell.

*************

While driving in the car, "Look mom!! A kangaroo!!"

"That is a deer standing on its hind legs."

*************

"Mom, when you're dead, can I have your phone number?"

"Aw. Baby, remember how we talked about how when people die, you can't talk to them in the same way anymore? You won't be able to call me."

"No, I mean like can I actually have your phone number? Can you have them put it on a phone for me?"

"What are you like 15 now? And why do you want my phone number?"

"Because it's the only one I know. How will all my friends be able to get ahold of me if I don't know my own phone number?"

************

"Ok that's it, go sit on the stairs, you have a 5 minute time out."

"You know what mom? I think I'll just go ahead and do ten minutes so that I can cross one off for next time."
************

"This is called a blood test babe. They just have to quickly take a little bit of blood out of your arm, ok?"

"Can they just take all of it so that the next time I get a cut I won't need a band aid?"

************

Things I Never Expected To Learn At The Gynecologist

Gah, this was so awkward that it deserved it's own dedicated "Conversations That I Did Not Think I Would Be Having This Week" post.

This was so incredibly awkward.

So....I went to the gynecologist (is anyone else feeling awkward yet?). Nothing special, just couldn't convince the doctor to keep refilling my birth control prescription unless I actually came in for an exam.

The nurse weighed me, took my height (dudes, according to her I grew half an inch. I don't care if the scale is most likely wrong, I'm claiming it!!), took my blood pressure (83/60, they asked me if I needed to lie down. I did not.) Then the nurse told me to strip down to my socks, wrap myself in the twin bed sized paper towel they provided me with, and to chill out on the exam table while I waited for the doctor.

Even More Conversations That I Did Not Think I Would Be Having This Week

Remember the post "Conversations That I Did Not Think I Would Be Having This Week?" Well not to mention that this week I found myself talking to all of you about the time I burned the hell out of my lady bits, but this week overall just seemed especially strange in the conversation department. So now, for your reading pleasure, I bring you a sequal to "Conversations That I Did Not Think I Would Be Having This Week."

*****

On Monday I got pulled over for speeding. I had actually just put my foot on the brake to slow down because I thought *maybe* I was in a construction zone, but there were no workers, no equipment, no signs, just a few of those orange barrels with the reflectors. I saw those, looked at my speedometer, realized I was going 55, put my foot on the brake, and saw the cop pull out behind me.

DAMMIT.

He came to the window and said "Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?"

Because I have a big mouth and I cannot lie to save my life I replied back "probably because I was going 55 in a construction zone."

"Ma'am, this is a construction zone and the speed limit is 30. I'm going to have to write you a $750 dollar ticket. License and registration please."

CRAP.

I hand him my cards, he lowers his sunglasses, and I blurt out "Hey! I know you!"

He looks at me for a minute and says "yes....how do I know you? You look familiar."

"You came to my house after my ex shot my window. You climbed under the bed with my daughter when she was scared and hiding."

"It's you!" He exclaimed. "How have you been? Is he giving you any more trouble?"

"Eh, nothing I can't handle" I replied.

"He handed me back my license and registration and said "take care of yourself and have a nice day."

Again with the blurting stuff out I said "you're not going to give me a ticket? I was totally speeding, I'll admit it. I mean I really didn't know that I was in a construction zone, I mean come on, where we live we can all recognize construction but that area is a bit questionable to me, but yes, technically I was speeding."

Conversations I Did Not Think I Would Be Having This Week

Do you ever find yourself thinking "I can't believe I just said that?" Mothers, I know you do this. "Stop licking your sisters eyeball. Get your toe out of your brothers cereal." I find myself thinking "I can't believe I just said that" at leave five times a day, so this week I thought it would be fun to let you be a fly on the wall in Eden's life.

Every night when I tuck the girl child into bed I ask her the same three questions; “What was the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and the funniest thing that happened?” Normally she rattles of a few things that can only be considered poignant in the brain of a five year old, but on Monday night she surprised me by saying “Or how about we talk about the boys that I like.”

"Um….what?" was about all I could stutter out.

“The boys that I like mommy, let’s talk about them.”

“Girl child, what do you mean ‘like,’ like you want to play with them and be their friends?”

“Yea some of them, but some I like a little more, like Cameron. I asked him to marry me.”

Apparently my kid got engaged at daycare. Please see also: We are now homeschooling.

“And what did Cameron say honey?”

“He said yes, when we are 30.”

“Well it sounds like you picked yourself a very smart boy.” Now I’m thinking ok, good we can just move on, but noooo, she interjects herself right into that little pause that happened while I was exhaling a sigh of relief and she filled it right up with…..

“So now that I’m getting married does that mean I get a baby next? You need a boy to have a baby right? Why is that? You said we don’t need a daddy, so how come you need a daddy to get the baby in you? If God wants you to have a daddy to have a baby, is that because the daddy puts the baby in you? How exactly does he do that?"

Hey, who wants ice cream!!!