Mouths of Babes II

Our children are, probably, our chief source of entertainment (I know...we need to get out more).  Here are a few one-liners that got a chuckle:

Squeakers the other day started screaming in pain.  I asked him what happened, and he exclaimed, "I threw my back out!! Just like Mr. Fredericksen!" (if you don't know who that is...watch the movie "UP")

And, when I am performing the nearly impossible task of forcing a comb through Squeakers' untamable mane, he unfailingly wails, "OW! Who's hurting me?"  (as if he doesn't know who is combing his hair).

Blurbles decided to be in an observational mood the other day.  He asked me why I have such a big butt...thanks, Blurbles.  We had to talk about not asking women why they have big ANYTHINGS.

On a trip to Phoenix last weekend to see our cousins, Lil' N explained after an hour of driving, "Mom. Don't worry.  I'm just sitting here patiently—waiting to get to our cousins' house."  He then repeated that several times throughout the remainder of the trip, requiring quite a bit of patience on Mom's part.

And, the update to Bug's fever the other day: it resulted in a bleeding ear.  Yup, he ruptured his ear drum.  After I mopped up the blood (there was much more than I would have imagined an ear to release), he still denied that his ear was not bothering him (probably because putting any kind of ear drops in his ears is an inhumane form of torture for both the administrator and the administratee).  So, now he goes around exclaiming, "Mom. My ear doesn't hurt anymore...or something!"

The Pea's favorite thing to say when he knows I'm getting frustrated with him, "I'nna kiss...and a hug!"

Smart boy - he knows how to get to the heart quickly. :)

How do you spell QUIRKY ... Q-W-E-R-T-Y

I was making dinner the other night, and all the boys were doing various activities in different rooms.  TPM happened to be hanging out in the living room with Squeakers, when he noticed something odd.  After closer examination, he told me to come over and look at what Squeakers was writing on the white board.   That's always a fun surprise—what comes out of Squeakers' head.   But, when I went over and looked at the white board I had no idea what he was writing, it was just 3 lines of random letter in no, seeming, particular order.  TPM asked me, "Do you know what he is writing?"  Well, honestly, I had no idea.  Do you?

Here's a closer look:

At first, all I could think of was that scene from "Knowing" where the girl just writes all this random stuff all over her page, but then TPM pointed out to me that it was the letters to the keyboard.  We actually had to go check the computer to make sure it was right.  It was.  Funny thing is—Squeakers is never allowed to touch our computer....for a reason.  Within about zero seconds flat that boy is capable of making system changes that require a Master's Degree in computer science to undo (okay, maybe not a Master's; but, at least a Bachelor's with post-grad work).  So, we resort to extreme measures in an attempt to prevent that kid from getting within 50 feet of the computer (under lock and key in our bedroom).  So, I figured he must have gotten it from school; but, in a conversation with his teacher a couple days later, she told me that he is not allowed to touch the computer...because then he doesn't participate in "social activities."  She did add that each morning he darts into the classroom so he can enjoy a few moments of blissful admiration of the computer (let's hope his wedding does not include vows similar to those of Napoleon's brother in Napoleon Dynamite (his loves for his bride and technology are nearly equivalent)).

We erased the letters, and then he decided to recite them to us...in perfect order.

That...is quirky.

Here's a closer look:

At first, all I could think of was that scene from "Knowing" where the girl just writes all this random stuff all over her page, but then TPM pointed out to me that it was the letters to the keyboard.  We actually had to go check the computer to make sure it was right.  It was.  Funny thing is—Squeakers is never allowed to touch our computer....for a reason.  Within about zero seconds flat that boy is capable of making system changes that require a Master's Degree in computer science to undo (okay, maybe not a Master's; but, at least a Bachelor's with post-grad work).  So, we resort to extreme measures in an attempt to prevent that kid from getting within 50 feet of the computer (under lock and key in our bedroom).  So, I figured he must have gotten it from school; but, in a conversation with his teacher a couple days later, she told me that he is not allowed to touch the computer...because then he doesn't participate in "social activities."  She did add that each morning he darts into the classroom so he can enjoy a few moments of blissful admiration of the computer (let's hope his wedding does not include vows similar to those of Napoleon's brother in Napoleon Dynamite (his loves for his bride and technology are nearly equivalent)).

We erased the letters, and then he decided to recite them to us...in perfect order.

That...is quirky.

...Or something

My kids are all about the filler words: um, huh, let's see, I think...Blurbles' favorite filler is, "I have an idea!"  (And, it's always interesting to see what follows that intro.)  Well, Bug has come up with a filler original to him: "...or something."  He uses it for everything.  As soon as the boys get on the bus, he looks at me and says, "Do you want to get a doughnut..or something?"  Or you'll ask him to clean up the bucket of cars, and he'll respond (in the sweetest voice), "No, I just want to sit here and read...or something."  I asked him the other day if he was going to finish his food, and he explained, "No, I just want to eat cake...or something."  It's the best way to get Blurbles to do what he wants.  He'll sidle up to Blurbles and lovingly ask, "Do you want to play...or something?  To which Blurbles unfailingly responds, "Sure!"  Today at church, he was running a fever, and so the nursery leaders brought him to me.  He laid his head against my chest and whispered, "Maybe I should go sleep...or something."  

Sounds good to me.

Crap

I warned you with the title.  You  can't say I didn't warn you.  But, that's the only way that I can describe this week: crap.  I could use other words, but they'd be worse than "crap."  So, if this is a topic that makes you squeamish, or if you have a problem with empathetic pooping, this is not the blog entry for you.  There has been some weird bug in our home that has doled out a case of some serious diarrhea.  My boys are usually pretty good with diarrhea.  When Squeakers has diarrhea, he just loiters in the bathroom—won't play farther than 2-3 feet from the toilet.  But, this bug just made it difficult to even make it to the potty.  Earlier this week, Blurbles was trying to explain to me that he had "poo freckles on his bum."

Huh?  What's a "poo freckle" you ask?  You don't want to know...

After we solved the "poo freckle" problem, Blurbles went back into the bathroom for a while, and then came out and exclaimed, "Wow, Mom! I am just having a STINKY day!!"  I couldn't do anything but just full-belly chuckle.  That has truly been our week.

I cleaned my entire house one night...totally clean.  And, the next day, poop ended up on my bathroom floor 2 times before 9 am.  I thought I would scream.  I would mop it all up and then I'd pass by the bathroom a little while later and smell an odor of stench wrapped in blanket of bleach fumes; sure enough, there were other "hidden treasures" awaiting my discovery.  Then, I went to the laundry room, and found several discarded pairs of underwear (my first clue should have been my children's sudden appearance in a fresh pair of undies).  They were trying to be discreet about their "stinky day;" but, Mom does the laundry...so, Mom gets to know everything.  The Pea started crying one morning (and didn't stop all day) because his diarrhea burned his bum to the point of waddling.  It was heartbreaking.  He looked like he was saddle sore from riding on horseback all day.  Unfortunately, his penchant for eating sand did not help his cause because, when TPM had to change him last night, he not only had to remove the caustic intestinal discharge, but then scoured his poor rear in the process because the sand combined with the wet wipes to create the perfect sand paper.

To top it all off, I turned on their favorite show "Dinosaur Train" and realized it was the "poop episode."  Click here if you are dying to hear the song.  It's pretty ingenious.  You gotta watch it until the end to get to the song, "Every Dinosaur Poops."

I guess I learned that this week: every dinosaur...and little boy...must poop.  Some weeks more urgently than other weeks.

I may have to delete this posting in a week—just so they don't kill me 10 years from now—but, all moms know: this is just part of it all. The crap must hit the fan eventually.

Lil' N the Teacher

In an earlier posting, I described Lil' N's ambitions to be a teacher.  This week, his teacher sent me this story:

"Lil' N was the calendar helper today. So he got up and did the calendar with the class all by himself. Then I asked him to go over the letter, Shape and Color of the week with his peers. He was like the perfect teacher...got the kids involved and asked questions and used visuals. It was perfect. I told him he should be a teacher when he grows up and he informed me that he would like that. Then ran over to his friend and said, "I am going to be a teacher when I grow up. It was the best moment of the day."  

And, then we caught him doing this on Saturday.  Today, he was writing all the kids' names in his class on the white board.  I don't know if they were in trouble, or if he was just trying to remember his students' names.  :)

Baby Beethoven

Squeakers' favorite composer is Beethoven.  I know what you are thinking.  How does he know Beethoven?  Well, all my boys are big fans of the Baby Einstein Videos (since TPM was neurotic about the triplets not watching "mindless drivel" when they were babies—even still, he about went into cardiac arrest the first time he came home and saw his three 4 month-olds staring transfixed at the TV where Baby Neptune was making its debut in our household); and so, TPM made a CD of the music off their favorite shows of Baby Einstein.  Consequently, Squeakers has become a connoisseur of classical music, and begs for us to put on the CD every evening.  A few weeks ago, TPM found a used piano on craigslist, and Squeakers has been in music heaven ever since.  Several times a day you can hear his dulcet plunking (or pounding), as he zones out in music la-la land.  TPM taught him a few songs, like "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Well, Squeakers decided to start playing them in different keys and different octaves.  Then, one day, he asked me to help him play a song he loves from primary, "Families Can Be Together Forever."  So, I wrote down the letter of all the notes (i.e.  AAA CDE FF GA...) and now he plays the song (somehow he knows the notes).  

So, on Saturday, he was practicing his favorite song, and had some SERIOUS bedhead.  I just couldn't help thinking he looked a little "Beethovenish."  See if you agree.

Happy Easter

I LOVE General Conference weekend.  I get to sit around all weekend, and not feel guilty.  My kids tear the house apart, and I just sit and ignore it.  It's actually quite refreshing.  This year, it just happened to coincide with Easter, which makes the weekend even better.  We've been trying to talk to the boys about the importance of Easter and what it means.  Since Sister Golding passed away, Blurbles is obsessed with death.  We had a friend over the other day.  She said the prayer for lunch, and prayed that everyone would "get better" (apparently there has been some sickness in her house).  When the prayer was over, Blurbles responded, "when you die, you feel better."  Great.  Anyway, it has been kind of helpful that he is interested in death, because it helps in explaining the resurrection.  We had a lesson on it last week for Family Home Evening, and you're never really sure if they are catching on, but last night, Blurbles prayed about Easter, and thanked Heavenly Father, "that Jesus died so I can live with you again."  He also said, "Thank you that we can be resurrected when we get older."  I thought that was sweet.  I told Blurbles that I was so happy that he remembered why we celebrate Easter and gave him a hug for his nice prayer.  This prompted Lil' N to offer a second bedside prayer.  He started praying for Easter to come.  And that the Easter Bunny would come and bring him stuff, and, "help me not to make right choices."  Hmmmm...I guess that explains all the wrong choice making of late.  The huge, pink & orange bunny shown above was given to us by our friendly neighbor yesterday.  We couldn't resist the insertion of this mammoth mutant into our daily festivities (although he might be "hopping away" in the middle of the night in the next few days).

But, as I have blogged previously (see "Santa" posting in December), I still love the other parts of the holiday. So, the boys woke up to Easter baskets.  The big hit was the "dragon eggs".  We did the dinosaur eggs last year, and this year they had dragon eggs, so we were able to get out our old volcano and drop the "dragon egg" and watch it erupt, leaving the remains of a dragon.  When it came Blurbles' turn, Blurbles was SOOO excited for his dragon.  He kept saying, "Wait, it's not a dragon!"  TPM and I laughed and just responded that of course it was a dragon.  The packaging said, "dragon eggs."  But, when the eggs was done fizzling, there was a hairy viking.  Blurbles was right - this was no dragon.  That was a little disappointing (I'll be returning the hairy viking tomorrow); but luckily, each of the other boys had dragons in their eggs, and quickly lost interest in their dragons, and so Blurbles was able to play with theirs. 

TPM and Squeakers spent most of the morning working on a Lego car.  Squeakers is getting better and better at his Legos.  It was fun to watch TPM display such immense patience through the whole process.  I would have gone crazy (TPM must have put on a pretty good front because his sanity was seriously teetering on the brink numerous times).  It's incredibly tedious, especially with Squeakers at the helm. Once the masterpiece was complete, The Pea was thrilled that they had made a car for him and preceded to drop it all over the floor—which gave TPM more time to practice his waning patience.  Ahhhh....

Bug and Blurbles played with their Pokemon mountain all morning and Lil' N carried around his ladybug and looked around the house for eggs (they were hidden all over).  The Pea just tried to steal Squeakers' car all weekend and cram as much candy in his mouth as he could (at one point the car was unceremoniously extracted from his chocolatey paws—TPM refused to even look at the car at this point for fear of having to be "committed").  Also, we managed to make it to two birthday parties; which my boys thoroughly enjoyed.  It will probably take about a week to come down from the sugar high our boys have indulged over the past 3 days.

All in all, it amounted to a pretty lovely Easter weekend.