The boys are finally getting to the age where I feel comfortable back-sassing them as much as they do me. They still don’t understand most of it- but that doesn’t make it any less fantastic to me! Due to that, this won’t be the typical Holdenism/Parkerism blog- it’s gonna be a MOMMYSOMETIMESWINSBUTUSUALLYLOSES-isms blog too! Usually they outsmart me. What?? It’s hot and I’m TIRED! Occasionally I get a zinger in there. That’s all I need; just one every now and then to keep me going.
Let’s get this party started, shall we?
Holden: Who was that on the phone mommy?
Me: Just the salon confirming my hair appointment because I need to get it dyed BAD
Holden: What? You wanna get it dyed green? Or maybe pink like Nicki Minaj?
Me: WHAT? How do you know who that is??
Holden: Cuz I’ve seen her on TV like a million times
Me: And do you think that looks GOOD?
Holden: No, she looks kinda like a clown
Me: Bless you
“Dance dance, there’s too much booty in my pants!” -Parker
I blame Thomas for this nonsense, but at least the kid had the mind to use proper grammar.
Holden: Mommy, what’s an antique?
Me: Basically… it’s something really old. Like our kitchen table- that’s an antique
*5 minutes later*
Holden: Hey Mommy, you’re an antique because you’re really old!
I’m gonna giggle my ass off when he’s cursing Santa for putting coal in his stocking this Christmas.
Thomas (to Holden): Did you just fart??
Holden (very matter of factly): Well, Daddy- sometimes beauty stinks.
Me: *leaves room*
Parker commandeered the phone from Thomas and was going Fruit Ninja crazy
Parker: Whoa! Five fruit combo! What’s dat thing? A bomb! Combo! In yo face!
Then there was silence for a few moments
Parker: Oh my…
Me: *curiously walks over* what happened??
Parker: I farted.
Me: *walks away*
I should have smelled that one coming.
Holden was writing something about Spiderman and I, being the helpful parent that I am, informed him that his p and d were backwards.
A very dry not at ALL snotty “I know, Mommy. I can’t exactly erase crayon.”
WELL EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME.
Holden came up behind me outside and started jabbing the back of my leg with a leaf
Holden: I’m pricking you!! I’m pricking you! Look! I’m pricking you from behind!
Me: Y’know… You really shouldn’t say things like that out loud
Me: You’ll understand and thank me when you’re older.
During the weekends, we are almost always in the car because I insist on getting the hell out of this house before I go Jack Nicholson in The Shining all up in this bitch. It makes for some strange conversations while driving around-
Holden: ohhhh Mommy! That store says a bad word!!
Me: Huh? Oh, that’s Dick’s. It’s not really a bad word when you put it that way
Holden: But DICK is a bad word. Are you telling me DICK isn’t bad? Does the DICK family like to play sports?
Me: It depends on how you say it. If you call someone a dick, it’s bad. But sometimes it can be short for a name. Like Richard.
Holden: There’s a Richard in my class and he doesn’t go by DICK!
Me: Okay. That’s enough dicking around for today *snorts*
Me: *under breath* Dicks.
One morning, Holden was lollygagging while getting dressed (let’s face it, boys and pants aren’t exactly like peanut butter & jelly) so I told him to hurry it up and he says “Hold on, I’m trying to get on my underpants!”
upon realizing he was already WEARING them, he then corrects himself
“I mean overpants!”
I just love how their weird little brains work. I might even go as far as to say I’d love to crawl in and look around, but I’m afraid I’d never find my way back out of that crazy cracked out place.
“DOG! You are a pain in the neck…. and a doodoo stain!” – Holden
He could have used any of my standard fecal insults- fartknocker, dingleberry, turd-burglar, or even shitdick, but he decided to come up with his very own. I have to admit… I was feeling quite proud of the little poop face.
Parker: Mommy, what IS that?
Me: I’m watching the new Justin Timberlake video. And no, you can’t watch. There are naked boobies everywhere.
Parker: *lifts up shirt* but look! I got nipples right here! *starts dancing to the tune of “I like to move it, move it”* I like to nipple, nipple! I like to nipple, nipple!
Me: ….. don’t ever grow up.
Holden: Look at that long pointy thing with lots of pricks on it!
Me: *Blinks. Figures warped brain must have overheard wrong*
Holden: Mommy! Come look at all these pricks!
ME: *Jumps up and runs over. Finds kids looking up at a tree with a broken limb and broken branches*
Holden: See all those broken pricks, Mommy? They sure are pointy!
Me: *Walks away shaking head*
I still need an industrial sized bottle of brain bleach to get rid of what I’d envisioned in my head.
Wieners… wieners everywhere!!! The horror!
Parker: *steps on a lego* OOOWWWWWWWW!
Me: Ha-HA! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? HOW DOES IT FEEL??
Parker: Not good.
Me: Booyah! I TOLD you! It’s like DEATH!
Parker: *starts laughing* that was for you, Mommy!
He’s a good egg. He still needs to pick his shit up, though.
We make our sweet tea at home. It’s a tedious process- but I’m a southern woman and I want real southern sweet tea. The issue is, if you don’t drink it fast enough, it goes… bad. And then things like this happen-
Me: Ew. This tea tastes AWFUL!
Holden: Why? Did Daddy make it?
Me: … *sings* Did you ever know that you’re my he-rooooo?
Thomas: *mutters something under his breath that I’m sure was not nice*
Me: *digging through pile of clean laundry* What do you wanna wear today? Do you like the bacon shirt? The pirate Mickey shirt?
Parker: *reaches in and pulls out a one of my lacy thongs* I like THIS ONE!!!! *throws it in my face and runs away cackling*
Me: *wonders why I had children*
Holden: *disgustingly stuffing his face with cheez-its*
Me: Ew! DUDE! You are COVERED in cheez-it dust, what are you doing?? There’s not even any left in that bag!
Holden: *licks dust covered finger* Sorry Mommy. I just REALLY wanted some salt.
Me: You on your period or something?
Holden: *blank stare*
It’s going to be a sad day when he realizes I’m making fun of him and insists that I stop. Or insults me back. A very sad day, indeed.
Basically my whole life these days wrapped up into one conversation:
Parker: Look Mommy, I drew the Milky Way! Where is the Milky Way? In the universe?
Holden: And our planet is like a tiny blob in the Milky Way
Me: That’s right
Holden: And THIS is what the milky way sounds like *stands up, turns around, and farts*
Setting: Kids acting like rabid Tasmanian devils on acid who think they’re jumping on a mother-badword trampoline when really it’s MY COUCH
Me: ARRGHH! I’m so tired of y’alls crap today!
Holden (in his driest most condescending tone possible): Mommy. You named your blog after me, so you’re not allowed to be tired of me.
Holden: 1, Mommy: 0.
For some reason, the kids decide to be the biggest a-holes to each other when they are in the car and can’t be forced apart due to laws and seatbelts and things of that nature. During one of these spats, I hear Holden say to Parker “Let’s play a game- who can stay quiet the longest!”
Have I mentioned how much I love that child? I mean, I don’t always LIKE him very much, but I love him lots and lots!
The boys and I were playing soccer outside
Holden: MOMMY! You HAVE to run for the ball!
Me: Honey, the only thing Mommy runs for anymore is the last slice of cheesecake or the Mommy Juice store if it’s about to close.
Parker: I WANT CHEESECAKE!
Me: I like you.
Parker was sneaking farts out at the dinner table and denying it was him until he crawled into my Dad’s lap and let one rip
Me: DUDE! Your butt is FOUL! It smells like a diaper full of Indian food!
Parker: *laughs hysterically*
Holden: (to me): Well your back smells like deodorant spread on top of poop!
Me: *fake sniffles* That’s just mean!
And that, my friends, is what dinner here is like.
Parker: Daddy gave you a KISS this morning!
Me: Yeah, because you told him to.
Holden: NEVER tell Daddy to give Mommy a kiss again!
Holden: *groans* Ugh. It’s just too romantic for me.
I guess that means I can hang up the stick with which I plan to beat the ladies off with for a little while longer.
Holden: Last one there is a rotten egg!
Parker: (coming in last) I’m a rotten egg.
Me: Your BUTT smells like a rotten egg
Holden: That was a good one, Mommy!
Me: *pats self on the back for being so funny*
-5 minutes later-
Parker: I’m a rotten egg, SMELL MY BUTT! *sticks ass in air*
I take full responsibility for that one.
“It’s hot to DEATH out here! It’s so hot it feels like I’m burning from the inside out!” -Holden, giving a far more accurate description of the weather than any meteorologist could ever hope to do.
He summed up how I feel about this summer in one little sentence. I’m not sure if I can last the rest of it with their mouths and this overbearing heat!
At least I will have this as another entry into their memory books… which are actually “total blackmail for future dates” books!
The “Are You Ready to Have Kids?” Checklist of Doom goo.gl/fb/DTPJ1A
If anyone asks how I died, you can just go ahead and tell them "she was lured in by free pie in exchange for listening to 2nd graders screech Thanksgiving songs for 30 minutes"
Half-Assed Jingler Syndrome goo.gl/fb/McWfBy
@ItsEvieClaire Booze and tears
I'm not saying this is the perfect #Christmas gift for all the parents in your life, but.... okay, yeah I am. That's exactly what I'm saying. Truths from the bowels of parenthood! amazon.com/Kids-Are-Turds…
@Gofashiondeals All of that and more. Good times. Gooooood times