|Ahhh… the quiet days.|
It is the dawning of a new age in my house; one I likely should have been prepared for if I were thinking logically about the situation from the start- but shit- who thinks logically anymore? Especially after having kids? Them damn kids took my logic, patience, and rational thinking and replaced it with an extreme level of forgetful derpiness and a tiny grasp on sanity.
Had my brain been in proper working order, or at least decently lubricated for rational thoughts- I would have seen this coming from MILES…er…. MONTHS away! I now have two smart-assed full-sentence talking, insult slinging, awkward sentence spewing children in my house. This is definitely not a SUDDEN development- but must I remind you of the squeaky non-lubed brain? It makes the obvious fly right over my head.
I am now constantly surrounded by words. Lots and lots of words. Some of them funny and some of them shockingly snarky. It’s a good thing they both can’t draw- because I really believe my brain would either explode or say “You know what? fuck this shit. All I asked for was some lube to DEAL with the massive things I have to process every single day and you can’t even LUBE me”– and I wouldn’t even be able to stop my brain because I’d be too busy giggling about the word “lube.”
Every day I am now doubly bombarded with weird awkwardness that has the occasion to turn absolutely hilarious OR horribly embarrassing. We started with Holdenisms years ago, then jumped head first into “my child, the artist” posts of wondering if the things Holden drew were penises and other things of a phallic nature, and just recently delved into Parkerisms– but NOW WHAT? I could probably fill a blog a day with the shit that flies from their mouths every few minutes- but that wouldn’t be totally reasonable. The only thing I CAN do is what I do at home: Force those little turds to share!
HA! And they thought they could outsmart me! This oughtta show them (although they don’t know how to get to this blog and while Holden is getting dangerously good at reading, my blogs use too many syllables to keep up… don’t come at me with logic right now, damnit!)
So now I give you a mashup of Holdenisms, Parkerisms, and My Child the Artists! Buckle up- we’ve got a lot of area to cover here!
Holden was picking his nose and eating it. He does this ALL THE TIME. I don’t care what study says this shit is healthy- no one should be eating their nose slime!
Me: Holden, if you keep doing that you’re going to get worms in your stomach that eat you from the inside out!
Holden: I’ll collect them from my poop and put them in a jar and keep them as pets!
Yeah… I need to think out my threats more thoroughly in the future.
“Mommy, you my honey-bear, and you have BIG BOOBIES! BIG ones!” -Parker
I should be really embarrassed, considering he announced this loudly in a quiet hospital cafeteria and felt the need to repeat it multiple times just to be clear- but it’s the first time in my life that ANYONE has ever called my boobs big, so damnit- I’m flattered!
We were all at my Dad’s house visiting- with just the adults at the kitchen table when Parker comes running in with this really freakishly realistic stuffed cat thing.
Holden: Wow! It’s like a real crotched animal!
Parker was INSISTING that I have a penis. The child has seen me naked pretty much every single day of his life- he knows I do not have a penis, as we have had conversations similar to this one before.
Me: I’m a girl- girls do NOT have penises!
Parker: Yes you do! You have a SILLY penis!!
And now I also have a complex. Thanks.
My Dad was in the hospital over the last week, and I guess the hospital wizened up in certain areas and won’t allow germy boogery kids under 12 in. He was in one of those areas, so the boys decided to draw him pictures to help him feel better. Holden drew this:
Now… this is either a dinosaur humping a stegosaurus from behind while it pees or gets its nethers washed in a bidet… Or the stegosaurus is puking onto the other dinosaur’s feet while it screams “YOU BITCH!”
Honestly, either one is possible.
It was early in the morning last week- I’d just finished exercising and it was time to get ready for the rest of the day (and out of icky sweaty clothes)
Me: Let’s go get dressed and then we’ll have a snack
Parker: Can we have M&M snack??
Me: Hmm……. n-
Parker: I’ll take that as a yes.
I was flabbergasted. He has gotten QUICK in his old age!
Holden is VERY dramatic. Seriously. If he chose to be an actor- I would think ‘yeah… sounds about right.’ Per usual he was making some big kind of dramatic scene about something really stupid and insignificant and the following exchange transpired:
Me: you’re such a drama queen
Holden: Mommy, you call me drama PRINCE and NOT drama QUEEN!
Well, excuse the fuck outta me… drama queen.
It was right before bathtime on Superbowl Sunday. I was flipping through the channels- because I do NOT watch the game (only the commercials when I can catch them) when I came across it in play.
Parker: Is that poopball? Are you watching the POOPERBOWL???”
His mispronunciations make my damn day.
Holden was downstairs with me, and Parker was upstairs. I hear him calling to Holden from the top of the stairs, so I walk over to the bottom and tell him that Holden is in the living room with me
Parker: Awwwww. But I wanted to tell him I farted!
Thomas (singing… horribly): it’s tearin’ up my heart when I’m with youuu
Holden: that’s a pretty good song you made up!
Me: it’s not made up. It’s ‘N Sync.
Holden: what’s an ‘N Sync?
Game. Set. Match. 8pm bed times and early bird specials for me!
“I like to fart in the bathroom, it’s loud in there!”- Parker
I was asking Holden about the girls in his class, because he absolutely hates it when I ask about them which amuses me greatly. I brought up one girl he mentions all the time
Me: Is she your giiiiiirrrrrlfraaaaaaaaaaaand?
Holden (in a horribly annoyed tone): I took HER off my friends list.
He’s 5. He doesn’t go online. His knowledge of internet terms is equally as amusing as it is horrifying. His dating years are going to be awesome. Not for the girls… but definitely for me.
One morning, I was playing the oh-so fun parenting game “Find that smell!”- unsuccessfully I might add. Parker walks into the room, sniffs the air, and says:
“It smells like HOT BUTT in here!”
It did. It really did! Though I never did find that smell.
Me: Guess what tomorrow is?
Holden: Uh… 70 degrees?
Me: NO! My BIRTHDAY
Holden: Oh, your 30th?
Me: NO! AND DON’T TELL PEOPLE THAT!
I turned TWENTY NINE! Born in 84! NOT THIRTY!! I can tell ya what turd I’m pretending not to know the next time he has a public shitfit!
“I fart when I’m scared”- Parker
One morning, I was exercising when I accidentally knocked over Parker’s blocks. I guess he’s gotten in trouble so often that he recalls me calling him by his full name… but he doesn’t know my name, so instead he yelled
I gotta tell ya, that full name thing really works!
I was stuck on the toilet with no paper after a poo, and begged Parker to run and get me a roll
Parker: No. Maybe you wipe with you hand?
While doing my makeup one morning, my hand slipped and I yelled “OUCH!”
Parker: What you do?
Me: Jabbed myself in the eyeball with eyeliner
Parker: Oh, Daddy does that too!
Me: Yes, I’m sure Daddy is constantly stabbing himself in the eyeball with eyeliner.
*2 minutes later*
Parker: Does Daddy have elbows?
So… the kid isn’t sure if his father has elbows, but is POSITIVE that he wears eyeliner.
He was my favorite child that day.
Parker: I have a nail on my finger!
Me: We all have nails on our fingers.
Holden: Yeah! To keep the worms out!
Seriously, what the fuck is with that kid and worms?
Thomas: So what are we doing today?
Kids in unison: Going to Disney!!!
Thomas (joking, because we are NOT going to Disney that day. We have no Disney plans at all): What’s Disney?
Holden: Ugh. It’s a place where the magic happens.
Parker has this thing where he is constantly telling Thomas and I “I like you, you my baby”- EVERY day. Multiple times. It is very sweet, but he has the tendency to slip in an insult or weirdness in there. Examples:
Parker : Mommy, I like you; you my baby
Me: Aww, you’re my baby too (typical response to his suck-uppyness)
Parker: *in a mocking voice* NOW EAT YOUR VEGGIES!
Me: I don’t sound like that!
The boys argue. A lot. A LOT a lot! And usually it’s nonsensical, but they do it anyway
Holden (to Parker): You’re a peanut butter!
Parker: You’re a PENIS brother!
Honest truth here? That’s not even all of them. Seriously, it’s a wonder my brain hasn’t exploded. I need to remind myself frequently that this is for posterity. POSTERITY! And blackmail. Definitely blackmail.
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.