It was Belly Picture day yesterday. The boys needed their quarterly ultrasounds so, we were up at the crack of dawn to trek to the hospital. Rain Man was especially surly because he really wanted some breakfast and that can’t happen until after the ultrasounds.
Let’s just say that getting Rain Man’s ultrasound done looked a lot like those greased pig-chasing events at the fair.
It was when we got to Cereal Killer that things really got fun, though. That child has the gift of gab and he decided to share his gift with the ultrasound technician. He started chatting her up and then gave us all this:
“If there was a giant robot, we could hide here in the hospital because there’s lots of room here. We could hide from the robot cuz he might have lasers. And you know what? I could call Spiderman and he could come and rescue us. I know where he lives so, I can tell him to come get us. So, don’t worry if a giant robot comes.”
I think that was his way of flirting. Oh boy.
I was chatting with Foodie last night when she was getting her daily allowance of cookies and Dora the Explorer. I wasn’t entirely sure she was paying attention to me.
“Are you cute?” I asked.
“Yes!” she replied.
“You love Mama?”
“You love Daddy?”
“You love your brothers?”
“You love bedtime?”
No pause, no stopping to think, absolutely no hesitation. She was definitely paying attention.
I really love reading to the kids at bedtime. They snuggle up and we read about the adventures of Larry the Cucumber or Thomas the Tank Engine or Lowly Worm. Their teachers have mentioned on many occasions that they can tell we read to the kids at home because they love story time at school so much.
Well, I was just finishing up Cereal Killer’s story (The Gingerbread Man) and he asked for some extra snuggles. I am still having Working Mom Guilt so, I cuddled up to him and listened to his constant stream of thoughts that he releases entirely uncensored.
At one point, he asked to listen to the “inside” of me. He wanted to listen to my stomach to see if it would make any noise.
“Mama, your insides are noisy. Why?”
I tried to explain that it was digestion causing grumbling noises.
“I think it’s food rocks,” he told me at the end of my clearly inadequate explanation.
“You eat too many cookies and treats, Mama.”
Is he calling me fat again??
Yesterday morning I took Foodie to church with me. The twins were on a sleepover so, I let my husband sleep in and took Foodie out by myself. (Am I not the best wife ever?)
I took her to the less child-friendly church of the two we frequent because I clearly have memory loss and forgot why we stopped going to that church. (Yes, we rotate churches. I figure it helps keep us from being excommunicated because the kids are too obnoxious for Jesus.) Lots of elderly people who hate noise and a huge, echo-y sanctuary. It never ends well. But, I took her anyway and sat in the front row.
Well, Foodie was in a pretty spring dress that she immediately showed off to the congregation by walking in to the aisle and putting her head on the floor and her butt in the air. She waved it around a little to make sure everyone got a peek at her polka dotted diaper.
Then, Foodie noticed the marble floors. I am not sure why she was so in to them today, but she was obsessed. (Probably had something to do with her putting her head on the floor during the butt-waggle incident.) She demanded that I take off her shoes so she could slap her little feet on the cool stone. When I declined, her protests got louder and louder. She wanted everyone in church to know that she wanted to put her bare feet on the marble floors.
Unfortunately, her vocabulary isn’t advanced enough for her to scream that. Instead, she was shouting,
“I WANT TO BE NAKED!”
I have on very good authority that her shouts were completely understandable even in the very back of the church. I can now see why people passive-aggressively leave pamphlets on our pew about how to make children behave in church.
As the twins get older, they are starting to make friends. (I think it has something to do with the slide in our front yard and the possibility that I will hand out little ice cream cones.) While they have friends, they are seriously lacking in social skills. This is what Rain Man told his friend from down the street today when I called him in for lunch:
“We have to go eat. You can watch us if you want!”
Yes, that is every four year old’s dream. They just love watching people eat a delicious lunch. I want to tell him it’s not polite, but then he might start inviting his friends in to eat lunch. I love their friends but, there are only so many children I am willing to feed in a day.
After lunch he ran out to find his friend who was milling around the front yard.
“Lunch was good! You would have liked it.”
Rub it in, Rain Man, rub it in…
Based on some of the things Rain Man has said today, I have determined he is going to be a highly successful (albeit incredibly nerdy) adult.
Maybe he will be a politician:
“Mama, you should let me have a muffin for dessert and an apple. They’re fruit and I need to grow.”
Perhaps he will warm my little bleeding liberal heart and be a humanitarian:
“I want to share my cars with you!”
He could definitely be a teacher:
“Foodie, this is how you build a train track. You gotta be careful or the trains will fall off…”
All I know for sure is that he’s smart and insightful:
“Mama, before I was born, I didn’t know you.”
Before you were born, I didn’t know me either, sweetie.
We had a tornado watch today. It’s laughable because we live in a very hilly area and the last time there was a tornado here was the 25th of Never. But, it freaked Rain Man’s freak.
Bad Mom Moment: I didn’t even know he knew what a tornado was, much less the implications of a Tornado Watch. The kid has better weather preparedness skills than I do.
So, Rain Man was freaking the hell out because the tornado was coming and the world was going to end. Maybe he was listening to all that business about the rapture prophecies too? He was telling me we needed to be in the basement NOW, even though the sky was partly cloudy and showed no signs of a tornado. Unless there is such a thing as spontaneous tornadoes. Like, OMGTORNADO! SHAZAM!
It got a little more cloudy and there was some rumblings of thunder so, I decided to collect Cereal Killer from his New Family down the block. (He made a friend. He thinks he needs to live part-time at their house.) Rain Man loses it. LOSES IT.
“MAMA! YOU CAN’T GO OUT THERE! THE TORNADO WILL EAT YOU!”
“There’s no tor…wait, eat me?”
“YES! And then he’ll come inside and get us with his claws!”
“I think you’re thinking of a bear.”
“Oh…..What’s a tornado?”
“A big storm.”
“You can go get my brother then.”
Bears > Tornadoes. And, hiding in the basement: The proper method for dealing with tornadoes and bears.
We were discussing the impending
doom birthday party of one of the twins’ classmates today.
“There’s probably going to be cake,” I told them, as if an incentive is needed to attend a 4 year old’s birthday.
“No!!” cried Cereal Killer in horror.
What? Like, seriously? We’re freaking out about cake? Who is this kid?
“I can’t eat cake!” he sobbed. “I only eat cake with this hand and I have a Band-aid on it!”
My thoughts: 1) You eat it with your hand. Oh really? How about you eat it with a fork so your friends don’t get confirmation that you were raised by cavepeople. 2) You’re going to let a Band-aid get in the way of cake consumption? Were you switched at birth with my real son? I could have no arms or legs and a jaw that’s wired shut and I’d still find a way to eat cake. You just aren’t trying hard enough.
Unfortunately, Rain Man was not as amusing high on nitrous oxide as I anticipated. He was very subdued and talked a lot about a pine cone he saw once. So, moving right along…
Before kids, there wasn’t much a person could say to me that would make me break out in to a cold sweat. ”Hey, that’s a cool poisonous snake on your head!” would be an exception, of course. But now that I have children, I find horror in seemingly innocuous statements.
Things my kids have said in the last 24 hours that have produced many grey hairs include:
“I got a broom!”
“Look what my peanut can do!”
“Hey, Foodie! Let’s go outside!”
“I’m gonna hide in the dryer!”
“I found scissors!” in conjuction with “I want a haircut!”
And finally, the sentence that caused me to question my life choices:
“Only 2 more days of school til summer!”
Oh, God. No. NO. NOOOOOOO!!!
Sorry about the delay in today’s blog post. We had a pretty epic power outage that spanned most of the state for a large portion of the morning. Apparently the one hamster running on a wheel was hit by lightning or something and it was hard to find a replacement because the pet shops were closed because there was no power. Or something like that.
Anyhow, I was kvetching all morning about the power outage. No lights, no power, no COFFEE. It was like living in a third world country.
Cereal Killer comes up to me, trying to be all positive about the situation. He is adorable, but sometimes he doesn’t quite understand what we are talking about because he came out with this gem: “There’s no TV right now. It’ll be back soon when we get some white power. WHITE POWER!”
Oh, Jesus H. Christ on a cracker. My little blonde boy who just yesterday got in to a fight with the hair clippers and now has an incredibly close buzz cut NEEDS to learn how to pronounce “light”. Immediately.
At least that stopped my complaining about the power outage right quick.