Jack was following me around my room last night as I cleaned up. I was putting folded laundry away and I wasn't paying attention to his poking through my drawers, as this is something that he does regularly. We call it "taking inventory."
[This phrase was coined by my father's mother when, as a small child, I would arrive at her house, shove by her in the doorway, and immediately begin inspecting all of her closets. What can I say, nosiness manifests itself strongly (and early) in our breed.]
Anyway, as Jack is usually looking through something, I didn't really pay that much attention. I heard a sharp gasp and I turned to see what was going on.
"WHAT is this!?" Jack asked, holding up a Cadbury Cream Egg, still it it's foil wrapper. (I had kept two for myself out of the MOUNTAIN of Easter candy he had received, and squirreled them away in my nightstand.)
"They're not yours, don't touch them." (My usual refrain.)
"WHOSE ARE THEY?" (His usual ignoring of my usual refrain.)
"Those are my candies from Easter." I told him, innocently.
"You've had them here this whole time?!?" he asked incredulously, gesturing to the drawer.
"Yes...Drama, I was saving them."
"I didn't know that!! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!" he screamed, and ran away.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Best Movie Ever
Jack is currently fascinated with the movie, The Iron Giant. This is a nice change from the endless Scooby Doo and the (insert ridiculous scenario here) movies that he is so fond of. The best part about The Iron Giant is the way that Jack pronounces iron; he says "eye-rin." When he asks if we can watch it I usually feign deafness and ask him to repeat himself several times. It is hilarious.
On a serious note, for a kids movie, it is a great one.
Still serious: I watched it before I had kids, I admit it.
Even more serious: I MAY have cried a tiny bit at the end the first time.
Dead: OK I cry every time.
On a serious note, for a kids movie, it is a great one.
Still serious: I watched it before I had kids, I admit it.
Even more serious: I MAY have cried a tiny bit at the end the first time.
Dead: OK I cry every time.
Overheard
[Scene: At the dinner table. Everyone's plate is empty, except for Jack's, which looks like a war zone.]
Me: Jack, you need to finish those beans before you get down.
Jack: They're too chewy.
Me: Use your teeth, that's what they're for.
Jack (laughing and slapping his knee): You old beaver!
Me: Jack, you need to finish those beans before you get down.
Jack: They're too chewy.
Me: Use your teeth, that's what they're for.
Jack (laughing and slapping his knee): You old beaver!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
What did the five fingers say to the face?
My sister has been watching Sydney during the day so that I can get the monumental task of getting back to work... started.
This week she was sitting in the family room with the baby facing her on her lap while I cleaned up the kitchen. They were having a goo-goo-ga-ga type of conversation when I heard a distinct, loud slap. Silence.
I walked around to view them, both sitting there looking rather stunned.
"What was that?!" I asked.
"The baby...she just...SLAPPED me!" my sister exclaimed.
Sydney turned to look into my eyes, and then smiled.
"Yo go girl!" I told her.
This week she was sitting in the family room with the baby facing her on her lap while I cleaned up the kitchen. They were having a goo-goo-ga-ga type of conversation when I heard a distinct, loud slap. Silence.
I walked around to view them, both sitting there looking rather stunned.
"What was that?!" I asked.
"The baby...she just...SLAPPED me!" my sister exclaimed.
Sydney turned to look into my eyes, and then smiled.
"Yo go girl!" I told her.
A Day in the Life...
of Sydney.
6:30am: Hey! I'm still alive! And I haven't eaten anything in HOURS! Or perhaps YEARS! I'm so happy that I am alive and able to EAT! MOMMY!
10am: Ohh, warm cereal. This stuff is great! I like to spit it. I like to gobble it up like a hungry turkey. Sometimes I pretend that I am a growling, predatory fish snapping up bites of helpless smelts.
11am: Whaaa? Zzzzzz.
noon: Hey! I'm alive again! And I pooped!
1pm: Watch me roll Ma! Watch me roll! Oh, you aren't watching? Listen to me say "Dada" over and over and over again...got your attention now?
3pm: Whaaa? Zzzzzz.
4pm: Hey! I'm alive again! Let's bounce! No seriously, put me in the bouncy seat. Don't make me slap you.
5pm: I will eat all of these vegetables. Got any prunes? Throw some prunes on here.
6:30pm: I'm feeling a little funny. Please give me zerbits to resuscitate me. They aren't working. FINE THEN. Put me down.
7:30pm: Whaa? Zzzzzz.
2am: Sleep jabbering. Just checking to make sure that you're listening.
6:30am: Hey! I'm still alive! And I haven't eaten anything in HOURS! Or perhaps YEARS! I'm so happy that I am alive and able to EAT! MOMMY!
10am: Ohh, warm cereal. This stuff is great! I like to spit it. I like to gobble it up like a hungry turkey. Sometimes I pretend that I am a growling, predatory fish snapping up bites of helpless smelts.
11am: Whaaa? Zzzzzz.
noon: Hey! I'm alive again! And I pooped!
1pm: Watch me roll Ma! Watch me roll! Oh, you aren't watching? Listen to me say "Dada" over and over and over again...got your attention now?
3pm: Whaaa? Zzzzzz.
4pm: Hey! I'm alive again! Let's bounce! No seriously, put me in the bouncy seat. Don't make me slap you.
5pm: I will eat all of these vegetables. Got any prunes? Throw some prunes on here.
6:30pm: I'm feeling a little funny. Please give me zerbits to resuscitate me. They aren't working. FINE THEN. Put me down.
7:30pm: Whaa? Zzzzzz.
2am: Sleep jabbering. Just checking to make sure that you're listening.
More Lessons from a Horrible Mother
This seems to be a continuing trend: My inability to NOT laugh at children.
At a birthday party this afternoon, at a nearby park, I watched as Jack and his best friend, Jason, terrorized the airwaves. They are an adorable pair--Jason being a compact, impressively speedy, dark little bullet of a child, and Jack, the complete opposite, tall, gangly, PASTY, toe-running, monkey-like and did I say PASTY?
These two adorable morons are seriously in love, and I couldn't decide whether to tear up or choke back laughter for most of the afternoon. They stood, at the top of separate play structures, on opposite sides of the park having a conversation. Now, in order to have a conversation across a park that is crammed full of approximately 200 other screaming children, you really have to ratchet up the volume. Which these two did.
"JACK TARKENTON! WHERE ARE YOU?" screamed Jason.
"JASON, I'M RIGHT HEEEEERE!" Jack screamed.
"WHY ARE YOU UP THERE?!?" screamed Jason.
"I'M THE KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!" Jack screamed back.
And this went on and on. According to Jason, besides being King of the Mountain, Jack was also a poopy butt.
"WE DON'T SAY BUTT!" screamed Jack.
"I'M GOING TO CRUSH YOU!" Jason screamed back.
Good luck with that one, I thought. Jason's mother, a lovely woman, was soon forced to chase Jason underneath one of the play structures after his language became a little too PG-13 for the playground. Jason, angered by the censure, huddled underneath a platform where she could not possibly reach him and screeched unintelligible, but clearly angry, words at her. And this is the point where I went from being her ally to her enemy. I laughed.
I KNOW. I know that you're not supposed to laugh. But he was so hilarious, squatting and peeking out from his shaded hide-out like a teeny little hobo, clutching his knees and so utterly infuriated that he had to INVENT words to convey the enormity of his feelings. It was adorable. She gave up eventually and came back over to sit with me.
"He does this all of the time," she sighed.
"I know, boys are terrible with all of the...RAGE."
"Yeah," she said. "Girls are way easier at this age."
SCORE! I said to myself.
I regaled her with stories of Jack's latest fits to make her feel better, and then we both indulged ourselves by laughing at the kids who were throwing sand at their mothers in the sandbox in front of us.
At a birthday party this afternoon, at a nearby park, I watched as Jack and his best friend, Jason, terrorized the airwaves. They are an adorable pair--Jason being a compact, impressively speedy, dark little bullet of a child, and Jack, the complete opposite, tall, gangly, PASTY, toe-running, monkey-like and did I say PASTY?
These two adorable morons are seriously in love, and I couldn't decide whether to tear up or choke back laughter for most of the afternoon. They stood, at the top of separate play structures, on opposite sides of the park having a conversation. Now, in order to have a conversation across a park that is crammed full of approximately 200 other screaming children, you really have to ratchet up the volume. Which these two did.
"JACK TARKENTON! WHERE ARE YOU?" screamed Jason.
"JASON, I'M RIGHT HEEEEERE!" Jack screamed.
"WHY ARE YOU UP THERE?!?" screamed Jason.
"I'M THE KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!" Jack screamed back.
And this went on and on. According to Jason, besides being King of the Mountain, Jack was also a poopy butt.
"WE DON'T SAY BUTT!" screamed Jack.
"I'M GOING TO CRUSH YOU!" Jason screamed back.
Good luck with that one, I thought. Jason's mother, a lovely woman, was soon forced to chase Jason underneath one of the play structures after his language became a little too PG-13 for the playground. Jason, angered by the censure, huddled underneath a platform where she could not possibly reach him and screeched unintelligible, but clearly angry, words at her. And this is the point where I went from being her ally to her enemy. I laughed.
I KNOW. I know that you're not supposed to laugh. But he was so hilarious, squatting and peeking out from his shaded hide-out like a teeny little hobo, clutching his knees and so utterly infuriated that he had to INVENT words to convey the enormity of his feelings. It was adorable. She gave up eventually and came back over to sit with me.
"He does this all of the time," she sighed.
"I know, boys are terrible with all of the...RAGE."
"Yeah," she said. "Girls are way easier at this age."
SCORE! I said to myself.
I regaled her with stories of Jack's latest fits to make her feel better, and then we both indulged ourselves by laughing at the kids who were throwing sand at their mothers in the sandbox in front of us.
Friday, March 26, 2010
An open letter...
Dear Sydney,
You are nearing the 6-month mark and I am constantly astounded by both your girth and seemingly endless supply of smiles and good will. You are the most charming small person I have ever met in my life. Every morning when I go in to get you from your crib, you greet me with the widest, face-cracking smile that showcases your two razor sharp teeth and, without fail, it melts my heart. Any grumpiness I have at getting up is immediately evaporated by the sheer wattage of your grins. And they are all for me.
You are a voracious eater and will consume large quantities of cereal and fruits, of which you have turned down none. You aren't particularly fond of peas, but you will devour any other vegetable with glee. When we eat, you focus your attention on what we're doing with laser-accuracy, eager, I'm sure to join in on the deliciousness that is my cooking. (Except for last night, when for some reason I decided to BROIL FISH and we can all agree now that was a BIG MISTAKE. PU.)
You are very much in love with your brother, and will cry when he is (inevitably) crying. You share both his victories and defeats, and with this albeit adorable camaraderie comes a lot of DUAL CRYING--I cannot get on-board with that. I am enjoying this pure and symbiotic relationship while it lasts, because I foresee some dark ahead as soon as soon as you start crawling. I predict that you will do this with lightening speed (you are very coordinated already!) and directly towards all of Jack's stuff, which, let's face it, is pretty much everywhere. I hope you have a hard skull my little chubby friend, and a lot of patience, because that one is his own whirlwind of terror these days.
You were introduced to the bouncy-seat this week, and it is apparently the best thing that has ever happened to you (besides being "borned"). You love to bounce-bounce-bounce ad infinitum, and I usually have to take you out of the seat before you have tired of it because, if left to your own devices, you would bounce to China.
I love you so much little butter bean. You have redeemed all babies everywhere, and I have some awesome guns now due to carrying your enormous ass around. All I have to do is picture your little fuzzy-peach head, gummy smile, and sparkling blue eyes and I forget every worry or care I've ever had. You are my excuse to be endlessly cheesy and doting, and I am taking full advantage! I love you bubba-loop!
Love,
Mama
You are nearing the 6-month mark and I am constantly astounded by both your girth and seemingly endless supply of smiles and good will. You are the most charming small person I have ever met in my life. Every morning when I go in to get you from your crib, you greet me with the widest, face-cracking smile that showcases your two razor sharp teeth and, without fail, it melts my heart. Any grumpiness I have at getting up is immediately evaporated by the sheer wattage of your grins. And they are all for me.
You are a voracious eater and will consume large quantities of cereal and fruits, of which you have turned down none. You aren't particularly fond of peas, but you will devour any other vegetable with glee. When we eat, you focus your attention on what we're doing with laser-accuracy, eager, I'm sure to join in on the deliciousness that is my cooking. (Except for last night, when for some reason I decided to BROIL FISH and we can all agree now that was a BIG MISTAKE. PU.)
You are very much in love with your brother, and will cry when he is (inevitably) crying. You share both his victories and defeats, and with this albeit adorable camaraderie comes a lot of DUAL CRYING--I cannot get on-board with that. I am enjoying this pure and symbiotic relationship while it lasts, because I foresee some dark ahead as soon as soon as you start crawling. I predict that you will do this with lightening speed (you are very coordinated already!) and directly towards all of Jack's stuff, which, let's face it, is pretty much everywhere. I hope you have a hard skull my little chubby friend, and a lot of patience, because that one is his own whirlwind of terror these days.
You were introduced to the bouncy-seat this week, and it is apparently the best thing that has ever happened to you (besides being "borned"). You love to bounce-bounce-bounce ad infinitum, and I usually have to take you out of the seat before you have tired of it because, if left to your own devices, you would bounce to China.
I love you so much little butter bean. You have redeemed all babies everywhere, and I have some awesome guns now due to carrying your enormous ass around. All I have to do is picture your little fuzzy-peach head, gummy smile, and sparkling blue eyes and I forget every worry or care I've ever had. You are my excuse to be endlessly cheesy and doting, and I am taking full advantage! I love you bubba-loop!
Love,
Mama
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