Doctor Speak

Well, I think my kids are both going to end up doctors. Why you ask? Well, if you heard the various conversations regarding anatomy that I typically hear, then you would concur. Like this gem, for example:

I happened to be visiting my in-laws up in Napa Valley, where they have a ranch. The kids run free out there, playing in sand, dirt, gravel, hay, foxtails... You name it, they are wearing it by the end of the day. So after dinner, it's to the shower. Because of my mother-in-law's mobility issues, they have a big shower with a hand held shower head. So, I just put my two varmints in the shower and basically, lather 'em up, and hose them down. My kids are not modest, AT ALL. So it's nothing new for them to see a "pemis" or a "magina". They don't blush and they don't care!

So, I'm drying them off and the conversation begins:

Little Sister: (pointing to brother's chest) Why are your nipples going inside?

Big Brother: Because they are nipples.

Little Sister: But mine are pointing out...SEEEEEEE!

Big Brother: Well, because you have pimples!

Little Sister: These are pimples?!?

Big Brother: Yes, they're pimples. I have nipples and you have pimples.

Little Sisiter: But look at Mom's! Hers are so big!!! What are they called?

Big Brother; BIg GI-I-IANT pimples!!! Because they REALLY stick out!!!

See, the medical community has never heard such brilliance....

Hair today, gone tomorrow...

We have major hair issues in the house right now. It all started about 2 weeks ago. I was helping my son put some things away in his room, when it suddenly occurred to me that it was awful quiet in the house. Now, if you know my daughter, that realization would result in a desperate pace to find what's been broken, or painted or spilled or rubbed onto the wall. Silence in my house is NEVER good.
In any case, I started calling for my daughter, and didn't hear an answer...but I did find an open marker on the table. The most common M. O. for my daughter is, 1. Find marker, 2. Color entire face and rest of exposed skin, as well as a good part of clothing, 3. Hide. So I see this bright red marker on the table and think, "She colored herself." I put the marker away...no biggie. I'm used to going out with a child with marker all over her body. I'm not fazed by it one bit anymore. Purple child, doesn't bother me...polka dotted, orange, tempura-painted hair...so what.
So, I move the chair back....and there it is. A HUGE pile of long hair strands....and a pair of kiddie scissors laying right next to it. Well, now I realize that she's graduated from coloring herself to reshaping herself. I look under the table, and there she is, Joe Dirt herself. I do what every mother does when her daughter cuts off her beautiful, long hair....call for my husband to get the camera. This is material for the wedding slide show later!
It's been a while now, and I'm used to her short hairdo, the one we got after "the incident". But, since then, my son has joined into the "Let's make our hair as lame as possible" cult. 3 days ago, I gave my kids gum in the car. You know what's coming, I can see it all over your face. Yup. He was playing with the gum and got a big wad stuck on the back of his hair. I was not impressed, but yet again, not fazed. I was planning on giving him a haircut anyway. So, to add, yesterday he was getting ready in the bathroom on his own, which he is proud of doing, now that he is capable. But when he came out, one side of his hair looked crusty.

Me: "Did you brush your hair with your toothbrush?"

Kid: "uhhhh...a little bit..."

Me: "Was there toothpaste on the toothbrush?"

Kid: "A little bit...."

So, I'm standing at the museum with my kids today, looking at them. My daughter had been wearing a hat that was now removed and had exacerbated her "short bus do" enough to make her look "truly special" , and my son had a crusty, minty coiff, with a gumspot that was now attached to a big, fat lintball on the back of his head.

Seriously, I think I need a class or something.

The Good Housekeeping Mentor

Here is conversation I had with my kids whilst cleaning the playroom with them.

Son: Yuck..there's something sticky under the desk.

Me: Did you spill something there?

Son: Yup...in February...it was apple juice. (...Mind you it's March 9th!)

Me: Well, I have a soapy sponge right there...(motioning to bathroom sink) go ahead and squeeze it out and we'll clean it up

Son grabs sponge, squeezes it, then throws it back into the water, making a huge splash.

Me: Whoa! Let me get a towel. Squeeze out the sponge, do not throw it back in, just wipe up the sticky stuff

Daughter: I can clean with this...(pulls off the Hawaiian skirt she has stowed under her princess dress. ) It works like the car wash!

I come back in after grabbing a towel, and my daughter is standing in the bathroom sink full of soapy water, wearing only the Hawaiian skirt and scrubbing herself with the sponge.

...wonder why my house is messy?

Domestic Husbandry and the Like

SO, today is the day I've decided we're going to clean up the squalor. Our house is somewhat liveable, laundry and dishes are done on a regular basis, but it's all that other stuff that escapes me day to day. Our playroom, for example...is a breeding farm for dustbunnies. It has a cork floor and is a very small room. it also is the dumpsite for all of the daily clutter, junk mail, packets of dead trees that the teacher sends home from school and where my husband lets his brain vomit and die. So, when we let it go, we REALLY let it go. I've been moving the furniture to clean, and I swear the only thing missing is Easter eggs. I found a dust bunny cluster that was the size of my son's shoe! So, you could say I'm in charge of the dust bunny husbandry 'round here. And boy have they been breeding!
Then there is my daughter's room. I tidy it up about every 3 days, but I have no idea why. If you look in there right now, it looks like someone shoved all of the Disney Princesses in there, handed them a live grenade, and shut the door. BLAM! Cheap taffeta and satin everywhere..along with the crowns and wigs. I'll let you know when I finally excavate far enough to find the carpeting.
Then, there is that weird odor emanating from the fridge....it could be salami, but I'm certain it's not. I'm pretty sure that I'm aging some lovely gorgonzola without even trying.
Did I mention that I'm wearing my pajamas and it's after noon?

settling down now...

I 've found some yellow bananas, so I'm okay now...

The Green Banana Rant of 2008

That's it. We've blown it. I'm pretty sure someone's mad at us again. We American's have managed ONCE AGAIN, to piss someone off. Somewhere in the the world today, NOT HERE, but somewhere.... Someone is sitting under a tree on a white sandy beach, feeling the warm tropical breeze on their face, and is peeling back the tender, supple, yellow freckled peels of a soft, sweet BANANA! I dream of those things now. Why you ask? Well, if you're shopping at one of the many glutinous warehouse grocery stores we Americans shop in, you probably have walked over to the produce section to find this long, kelly green, crescent-shaped rocks they are trying to sell to us under the name "Banana". They are charging money for produce that is not edible for a month, if you're lucky. I typically stand there stunned. Stymied that 1) people just grab a bunch of them like normal, and/or 2) that these people are actually able to walk around after enduring stomach cramps from eating too much under-ripe fruit.
I remember as a child, that if I even reached a finger toward a banana that had the slightest green hue on the edges, my mom would scream, "You're going to get a cramp!!!"
I think this is the face of terrorism now. Tropical countries have set course to rue the day we keel over from our green banana stomach cramps, and will be laughing at our weakness. Next it will be green tomatoes.....you think I'm joking...?

HAPPY VD!

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you today! For those of you who believe in love, and those who are just cynical about it, as well. It's out there, not just in the flowers and boxes of chocolate. Look in the little places. Actually, I heard something today that made sense. "Love is not a feeling. It's best expressed in a series of actions". Made sense to me. I mean, I know I'm loved when my daughter pees in her new dress, and asks me, first and foremost, to help her change her drippy clothes. She trusts me and knows I'm dependable, and knows I always have spare clothes. I know I'm loved when my son asks me in a REALLY loud voice, OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, if Saturn is going to be in the night sky tonight. He understands that I am reliable and willing to do the research for him and would NEVER, EVER say just anything just to make him stop asking. I know I'm loved when my husband leaves ALL of the shoes that he owns in the living room next to the door. He trusts that I'm agile enough to dodge most of them when I'm in a hurry to drop the kids off in the morning, and knows I'm tough enough to handle large amounts of pain when I do manage to twist my ankle on a loafer. These people trust me, they believe in me, and they leave little signs of their devotion all over the house....in the sink, on the floor, in the hamper, next to (not in!) the toilet, all over my car....I mean it's just endless, people. It's everywhere, and it's endless...that love....

Was that me talking?

So, I'm sitting here at the computer, while my daughter is blowing zerberts on my shoulder, mind you, just fascinated to what my typical topics of conversation have been reduced to. Let me brief you on the choice words of wisdom that this mother has uttered just today:

1. Please don't lick things that touch toilets.
2. They don't make tortilla chips flavored like pickles.
3. People at school don't want Christmas Cards on Valentine's day, even on other planets.
4. I guess you can eat it...does it taste rotten?
5. Only your brother touches his own naked butt.
6. Please keep your hands from smearing your boogers onto the car window.
7. Well, if your carrots taste like soap, you probably didn't rinse your hands...
8. Don't put that there, (under breath) even Sue Johanson would advise against it.
9. Why is there juice in the cat bowl and cat food in the toilet?
10. Most princesses cover their boobs. Pull your gown up!


I need a day off.