Call me Monkey

Here's a joke courtesy of Clay. Why did the chicken cross the road?
Monkey poop! This was followed by much laughing. You just can't help but laugh along when you hear that kind of infectious laughter. Of course, after his audience gave such uproarious approval of his joke, he had to repeat it. Again. And again. And again.

This evening, I congratulated Clay and Lex on a job well done because they got their pajamas on in less than two hours. I high-fived Clay and said, "Dude!" I high-fived Lex and said, "Dudette!"

Clay looked at me disbelieving and informed me, "Mom, she's not Dudette. Call her Princess. And call me Monkey." I've been corrected.

Ok - my mom called me this morning and asked, "So who locked whom in the refrigerator?" She continued with a lecture about kids dying because they were stuck inside a fridge. Seriously. Sooo, I'm writing to explain that little post last night, ok Mom? Because my fridge is broken and awaiting a repairman, my husband took all the shelves out of the fridge and completely cleaned it out. My oldest son thought it would be fun to hide in the fridge and jump out and scare the living snot out of his siblings as they walked past said fridge. After hearing the terrified screams of his siblings, I realized what he was doing and made him get out. I had visions of the repairman coming out and saying, "Well the compressor's shot and that's covered under your warranty, but there appears to be a giant hole in the floor of the refrigerator and that's definitely not covered."

Anyway, I made sure the kids knew that a refrigerator is not a toy. Nor is it a magic box wherein one can hide. Nor is it a torture chamber for unsuspecting siblings. Nor is it a toy box. Nor is it a book case. (You get the idea.)

Back to my mom. Here's a disclaimer: Not all refrigerators have doors that open from the inside. I know it sounds like a good idea, but do not empty your fridge of food and shelving and get into it and close the door behind you. This could be dangerous. If you're throwing your old refrigerator at the curb, take the door off because (again, according to my mom - this kind of thing happens) apparently there are kids who roam around and get into refrigerators thrown at the curb and die. Now you know.

Back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

If you haven't yet, feel free to check out my new blog. I'm highlighting one work-at-home mom's business each week. This week it's Angie's business Good For The Kids. If you visit her site, make sure you use the code - 6PACKBLOG for 10% off your orders!

You're Wearing THAT?

In the days BC (before children) I'd see kids in the store wearing the most crazy outfits and I'd think to myself, 'What on earth were their parents thinking???' Now that I have kids of my own, I understand. Kids like to dress themselves and it just isn't worth fighting over.

So, your child wants to wear a red velour sweat shirt, purple plaid pants (I'm not sure why anyone would have purple plaid pants to begin with...), yellow knee socks, snow boots, and a tiara in July. As a parent you have to pick and choose your battles. Generally it's best to save your energy for the more important things such as when the kids want to build a spaceship from parts they’ve taken out your car, or when the kids decide it would be a good idea to paint their bedroom door with nail polish. Stuff like The Hitting My Sister With a Smelly Sweat Sock Repeatedly Battle, or The He's Looking At Me Battle, just aren't worth the effort.

I've actually decided to stop buying new clothes for my kids. My oldest son wears the same nasty old T-shirts day in and day out. It doesn't matter that he has a closet full of nice, new clothes. I'm sure his teacher thinks he's an orphan. And when I take the shirts away and toss them in the garbage, they somehow magically reappear in his drawer again and again. I’ve given up on jeans lasting more than a week with him. Apparently there’s some sort of mysterious force field at school that causes perfectly good jeans to get holes in the knees because that boy can’t manage to keep a new pair of jeans intact for more than a day.

My oldest daughter has nothing to wear. Again, she has a closet full of beautiful, untouched clothing, but I guess the clothes are invisible to her because when she opens her closet door, she sees nothing. She, more often than not, opts to wear my shoes as well. Hmmm maybe I could go raid HER closet for things to wear. I'm sure I'd look quite stylish in her little skirts.

My middle son spends most of his day just hanging out in his pajamas, or occasionally his underwear. Maybe he's onto something. I'm sure it's very comfortable to walk around in nothing but your P.J.s. Can you imagine the look on the poor mailman’s face as I answer the door in my undies? I’m sure I’d make quite an impression at the PTO meetings!

My middle daughter has never worn a normal article of clothing in her life. She only wears bathing suits, leotards, and princess dress-up clothes. At the grocery store she walks on her toes while twirling down the aisles wearing her Cinderella dress. She wears her mermaid Halloween costume to the doctor's office and she dons enough jewelry to make Mr. T. jealous.

My youngest son wears whatever I pick out for him. The only problem is - he likes to dress himself and 99% of the time, he puts it on backwards. I mean, he's got a 50/50 shot of getting it right, yet his shoes are always on backwards and his tag is always sticking out the front of his shirt. I have no idea why this is.

Finally, the baby doesn't care what she's wearing as long as she's got on shoes. First thing in the morning, she wakes up and brings me her shoes to put on. Before I change her diaper, I must slip shoes onto her feet. Pajamas and shoes. A diaper and shoes. Just shoes. Imelda look out.

Yep, I'm going to save thousands on clothes. Hey I just might be able to take early retirement with savings like those.

Why Can't I Swim in the Toilet?

After a long, hard day of manual labor, i.e. playing with blocks, throwing your sippy cup on the floor, taking all the books off the shelf, and emptying out the toy box, it's nice to relax in a lovely whirlpool bath.
























"Come on in, Mom! The water's just right!"
And just think, if the urge to go happens to hit while you're splashing away, well you're in luck!

I hope this doesn't give you heart palpitations, Denise. Rest assured, I threw her in the "other" bathtub and scrubbed her down with Lysol and sandpaper after snapping those pictures.

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Here's a joke from the kids...

What's the difference between roast beef and pea soup?

Anyone can roast beef!

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!