Picky Eaters

Brooklyn walked by, talking on her play phone.

"Yes. Okay. We're putting the babies on the grill now. Uh huh. Sure. Buh-bye."

I waited until Brooklyn hung up and asked her, "Putting the babies on the grill???"

"Yeah, our boss told us to, so we could eat them."

"Your boss? Your boss told you to put babies on a grill? And more importantly, you listened to him?"

I wasn't sure what was more disturbing - the fact that a pretend person was telling my daughters to become cannibals, the fact that they were listening to this pretend person and thought it was perfectly acceptable to grill their dolls, or the fact that I was even questioning this line of thinking.

I walked over to "the grill" where Lexi and Brooklyn had their dolls all lined up, just roasting away.

Oh well, maybe they were on to something. I mean, I can't get Brooklyn to eat more than chocolate milk and peanut butter sandwiches. In fact, tonight, she informed me, "I'm not really into tacos, Mom. I'll just have ice cream."

"Okay, Brooklyn. Get me a bowl too." "I mean, ha ha ha ha ha, you're a funny girl. Now sit down and eat. The taco. Not the baby doll.

Foreign Language Lessons

Out of nowhere, Brooklyn said to me tonight, "Mom, you need to go to the duck store."

"The duck store? What's the duck store?"

"The DUCK store!" she repeated like I was an idiot for not knowing what the duck store was.

"What do you get at the duck store, Sweetie?"

"DUCKS!" she said and rolled her eyes just enough to convey the idea that she thought I was completely simple-minded and she marveled at the fact that I'd made it to the ripe old age of 39.

"Well duh. Of course you get ducks at the duck store. What else would you get at the duck store?" I asked rhetorically.

"Crayons!" came her answer.

"Well, of course! Crayons! So, let me get this straight. I need to go to the duck store to buy you a duck and crayons?"

"No, you need to get me a present."

"What present?" I asked, getting more confused the longer we talked.

"A duck and crayons!"

I refrained from slapping myself in the head.

"Is this a real duck?" I inquired.

She looked at me like I was insane. Again. And said, "No, it's a duck that washes off crayons."

It finally hit me. She wants this...

We had one of these bathtub sets a looooong time ago. I can't believe she remembers this!

Foreign language interpreter: just another one of mom's jobs

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And the moment you've all been waiting for.......





JACKSON










LEXINGTON











CLAYTON












SAVANNAH










AUSTIN











BROOKLYN









Don't feel bad if you got it wrong. Joe got three of them wrong. My sister asked me who the strange kid was in the second picture because she didn't think it was one of mine. I have a hard time telling all of their baby pictures apart unless I look at the background and scrutinize the color of the walls and the clothes the kids are wearing.

A few of you got them all right, but the first one was Denise! Congrats! I'll get the gift card off to you this week! Thank you to everyone for playing!

It was like 60 degrees outside today! Woo Hoo! Yay spring! While Joe was taking a walk with Clay and Brooklyn, Clay picked up some strange looking rocks and said, "Look at these weird rocks, Daddy!" Joe looked at the "rocks" and told Clay, "Umm that's rabbit poop. Let's go wash your hands."
A little later while I was outside with Clay, he looked up in the sky and said, "Look! There's a hammer!"
"A what?"
"A hammer! See it? A hammer!"
"I don't see any hammers, hon. What are you looking at?"
"Right there! See the red hammer. He hammers on trees!"
The light finally dawned as I saw a red bird fly from the tree. "Ohhhh, do you mean a woodpecker?"
"YES! A hammerbird!"
"LOL! That's a cardinal, sweetie and you, my dear, crack me up."
Kids are goofballs, aren't they?

I Talk to Monsters

I had this conversation with my three year old today.

CLAY: I dream about monsters. They talk to me when I'm asleep.
ME: Are they nice monsters like Elmo?
CLAY: Moooom! Elmo isn't a monster.
ME: Yes, he is. He's a friendly monster.
CLAY: Mooom. You mean cookie monster?! He says this as if I'm completely stupid.

ME: Yes, Cookie Monster is a monster. So is Elmo. And Grover. They're all nice monsters.
CLAY: Elmo isn't a monster.
ME: Ok. What is he?
CLAY: He's Elmo (DUH!)
How do you argue with that reasoning?

Kids know everything. Much like Bill Cosby, I realize there is no reasoning with a child. You'll feel your own IQ slip a few points if you try.

While cleaning her teeth this afternoon, the dentist informed my six year old that her bottom teeth were starting to get wiggly.
ME: Are you excited? Soon you'll lose your first tooth! You'll be able to put your tooth under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy!
DENTIST: What does the Tooth Fairy bring you when you lose a tooth?
LEXI: Well, if you put three teeth in your pillow, the Tooth Fairy brings you like three quarters. Or if you put one tooth in your pillow, she brings you a dollar.

Remind me to work with Lex on her math skills.

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