Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Potty Words, Part III

Golly, we're obsessed with these lately!

Annie was repeating "p" over and over and over again, mostly because she was getting a reaction out of Lizzy (shocker).  Of course Lizzy tattled, blah, blah, blah.  This happens every day.

But then the conversation got interesting because Lizzy, very seriously said:

"Mommy.  Aunt Trish said a potty word."

I confess.  I have a problem with swearing and yes, it is unattractive and ugly and we are not supposed to do it and I really do feel terrible about it but - to my credit - it is now mostly kept in my head.  Mostly.  95% of the time.  Okay, 90% of the time, but never in front of the kids. Not even "crap".  I don't allow them to say "butt" and I don't even like "bootie".  I feel guilty if I say "dang it!", even when it's 100% legitimate. Example: I think it's okay to say "dang it!"  when the dog has squeezed through the fence for the 300th time in 10 minutes.  And I'm trying to teach Lizzy how to ride a bike.  And Annie, who is terribly impressed with herself now that she can ride a tricycle, wants to try on everyone else's helmets (which requires help), and Gracie accidentally has dirt flung on her and is freaking, and there are 68 other emergencies going on simultaneously.  And there goes the dang dog again! But I said it, loudly, and felt badly because I don't let my children say it.

I digress.

My sister, "Aunt Trish", is pretty much the same.  Tries very, very hard not to swear in front of the kids, but sometimes children sneak up on conversations and, well, there you have it.

So I was inwardly laughing because who knows what Lizzy was talking about, and we had just seen my sister + crew a few days earlier.

Me: "Soooo...what did Aunt Trish say? Exactly?"

Lizzy: "Mommy, she said 'pee'.  She said 'peed in my pants'".

Me: "Lizzy, did she say 'I was laughing so hard I peed in my pants'"?  (this is a Trish-ism)

Lizzy: Yes.

Me:  "It's okay that Aunt Trish said that.  She didn't do anything wrong.  I just don't want to hear you say that to someone, or find out you said that to someone. Okay?"

Lizzy: Okay.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Puppies and Kids: Lessons Learned

Kids are more hyper than puppies.  At least mine are.

Kids like to run from puppies, who like to chase kids.

Kids do not nip at puppies, but puppies nip at kids, especially ones who think it is hilarious to run from puppies in order to be chased.

Puppies should wear diapers for the first few weeks.

Boys really, really, really want to hug and hold and carry around and squeeze puppies and puppies really, really really do not like that.  At least our puppy doesn't.

4 year old boys have little to no self control around puppies.

A fenced-in-yard does not necessarily mean a puppy can be contained, especially when the puppy is small enough to pop through the pickets.

Puppies have ADHD

We'll get through this, right?

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Potty Words, Part II

The dog's name is Penny.  Annie (age 22 months) calls her "Pee Pee".  You can imagine how many times a day the kids, mostly Lizzy, ask her to say Penny's name.  And then laugh hysterically.  Which makes Annie say it again.  And again.

And again.

Oh, like the laundry basket on the couch?  It's there because sweet Penelope thinks it's super-fun to empty out clean, folded clothing from their temporary home.   So that makes a total 6 members of the Laird clan who think that's a good activity...

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Potty Words, Part I

A couple days ago, I went to the basement to call my sweet bairn up for dinner - nothing unusual.  Two of the five pushed past me, racing to the stairs with their new battle cry "last one up is a smelly chicken!" (huh?) - again, nothing unusual.  Annie waddled as quickly as her chubby crumbgobbler legs could carry her, and was followed by Lizzy and Gracie.  Lizzy was only in her underpants - once again, not unusual - but she and Gracie had huge smiles on their faces and were walking as nonchalantly as 4-year-olds can.  As Lizzy sashayed past, I noticed a post-it note on her backside.

It was this post-it:

Conversation follows:

Me: "Hey Lizzy.  What's that on your tushie?"  (I grab the note)

Gracie:  All smiles

Lizzy: "Oh, it's a picture I drew."  (shoulder shrug, with a "not a big deal" voice)

Me: "Well, what is it?"

Gracie: Even bigger smiles, if possible.  Stifled giggles.

Lizzy: "Well...let's just call it dirt.  Because we don't want to say any potty words now, do we?"

And, too cool for school, just keeps on walking like it's not even that funny, because somehow she already knows it's even more hilarious when you act like it isn't.

Gracie:  "It's POOP Mommy!!!! Bwaahahahahahaha!"  Doubled over, laughing like crazy. 

Laughing because poop is incredibly funny, especially to little kids and grown up boys.  Laughing because this was so obviously planned and discussed and giggled and snorted about and bonded over for several minutes (at least) while there was no adult supervision to impede their fun.

And no, Lizzy.  We don't want to say potty words.  We also don't want to walk around with a post-it note stuck to our bottoms with hand drawn pictures of feces that look remarkably like jelly beans. 

Monday, October 1, 2012

Am I Smarter Than A Second Grader? Not By Much.

When Ainsley told me after school that her homework was to: read for 20 minutes and "some worksheet in my homework folder", I assumed she would only need 5 minutes of my time for the worksheet (she does the reading by herself).

I was wrong.  Very, very wrong.  Because not only did she end up needing 25+ minutes of my time, she needed 25+ minutes of my atrophied brain.  And for what? What second grade level worksheet could make my life miserable at 8:10 at night?  A worksheet about physics.  I was not aware that Physics 101 was now taught to 8-year-olds and would have appreciated a heads-up so I could at least have time to get all jacked-up on caffeine and therefore think a bit more clearly.

Motion? Force? Work? Friction? Simple Machines?  And "write a sentence about them" and "draw a picture to illustrate"?

And, looking forward, I can't possibly imagine how wonderful this is going to be when we suffer through second-grade homework with The Big Three.

Good grief.

*Ainsley was great during this, by the way. No complaining, etc. I was the one with the issues. As usual.