It’s all about the context…

Ok, so I am sitting here minding my own business…looking at different blogs all over the web and learning new ways to do things. My daughters are playing “baby-dolls” in their room and being little mommas.

Well, they were in the kitchen at first, and I mentioned “don’t y’all have a room”…and suddenly they remembered that cave they call a room. So the conversations started.

Bailey: It’s time to get our dawters from school.

Katherine Grace: Oh, poop! We’ll be late…we have to drive.

Bailey: No we won’t, this is in the future so we don’t have to drive

(They are walking across the living room to their room)

Grace: Oh! So in the future we will walk everywhere.

Bailey: Nooo silly….we float in no gravity.

So off they go to their room, and the land of finding their daughters. The next conversation isn’t quite so cute. At first:

Bailey: No, girls have innies.

Grace: So, boys have outies?

Bailey: Yeah, real boys have outies…boys that are supposed to be girls have innies… (My girls get transgender)

Grace: Really?

Bailey: well of course. Girls are always innies, and boys are always outies…its how you know

Grace: *dying laughing*

Bailey: What is so funny?

Grace: CONNOR IS AN INNIE! CONNOR IS A GIRL!

Bailey: No, he doesn’t have one…Momma unscrewed his and took it off because he was running around the house one day.

Finally! I get it! They are talking about belly buttons!! Oh sweet merciful baby Jesus, they are still innocent. Man, I was getting worried for a second.

OK, the story on how you unscrew a belly button.

When I was a little girl, I lived with my grandparents; these people were Saints I tell you. My grandfather was a Pentecostal Minister, and so was my grandmother. Actually, my grandmother was one of the first Ordained Pentecostal Ministers of the time. Yes, this is a big deal…say oooo! Neat! Ok thanks.

Anyway! One day I was about 9 or so, and it was rainy and wet outside, and I couldn’t play. So instead I was running through the house with our dogs and making noise. Well, the kitchen was a step up from the living room, and then a step down going to the back hall. I would forget about the step up again on the way back through and always crash through the china hutch. My grandmother would sit at the little island or at the table with my grandfather and have coffee in the afternoons while they talked and prayed or read their bible together; and my 9 yr. old self crashing into the china hutch was a bit of a disturbance.

Granny looked up that day and told me to go fetch a screwdriver; I said yes, ma’am and did what I was told to do. I brought her the screwdriver, and she put it on the table next to her pen. I went back to running through the house, crashing into the china cabinet and then tripping over a rocking chair. How did that get there! (I did have to get the screwdriver from Pawpaw’s truck) Well I got up finished the track to the front bedroom, turned around and came back through…tripped over the rocker again and almost made the corner, when low and behold the hand of God reached down and stopped me.

Ok, it was Pawpaw, but in my mind it was something much larger because I just…stopped. Granny grabs my shirt and shows my belly button, and puts the screwdriver on it and started turning the screwdriver, she wasn’t hurting me so don’t get all Child Protection on me; I looked down and asked:

Me: Granny, uhm…whatcha doin?

Granny: Hush, be still I almost got it!

Me: uhm…Granny?

Pawpaw: Give her a warning first…you know how much trouble they are to put back on.

Granny: Ok, a warning. (She turns the screwdriver the opposite way…righty tightie, lefty loosey) Papoose! If you don’t sit still and read a book or do SOMETHING ELSE, I am going to unscrew your bellybutton and let your legs fall off.

Me: Yes ma’am….does that really work though? (Doubting Thomas here)

Pawpaw: Sit down and let me see your leg.

I sat down, he took my leg and swung it back and forth…”See that, it’s still loose it just wobbles there”

I went read a book.

28 years later, I understand where I get my sense of humor from.

What is one of your funny childhood memories?

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Say Goodnight Gracie!!

Ok, it’s been a little while since I have had anything real to say, and just when I thought that child couldn’t possibly top herself–she started talking. So here are a couple of gems from SugarBaby.

Enjoy…and remember she is only 3.

The other night while going to bed.

My son, Duck…asks me for a bottle of water. Of course I say no, and inform him I am not his slave. Now enter SugarBaby:

“Yeah, momma not you slave!”
(I’m thinking she’s on my side)
“mommy’s my slave….huh mommy”
(ugh…kid go to sleep)

Today, I was sent a picture of President Obama saying happy holidays or something. Well I asked her:

“Hey little girl ” (yes that’s how I talk to her, remember I do have 5 children plus 2 step-children, names run together)
She looks up at me and says “what”
Apparently, I am interrupting computer time, so I better make it snappy.
(biting back a laugh) I ask her…”do you love Obama?”
Without missing a beat she hooks me for another lifetime and says “I love you momma”

She is very articulate until she is ready for bed. There is a set ritual.

1.strawberry milk
2.a movie on “fetfix”

So tonight her oldest brother asks her what movie? (he doesn’t live here full time so he is rusty on speaking SugarBaby), she said:

“wanna watch junk in the trunk”
Uhm…”what”
“wanna watch junk in the trunk”

(she now has her hand on her hip and one hand in the air..as if to say…don’t make me repeat myself …AGAIN!)

Mind you, I am dying from trying not to laugh. And he just looks at me for help.

I said ” she wants to watch Gnomeo and Juliette.”

Him: *FACEPALM*– * laughs* and says “of course..how foolish of me not to know that”

I’m telling you…this child is just plain silly.

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This is her : Shhh…See I’m sleeping face. (Notice the squinched up eyes…I’m guessing someone is faking sleep)


Out of the Mouths of Babes

Had a long talk with Ms. Katherine Grace this morning. She counted to 10, said her ABC’s, told me her full name (it’s a mouthful!) Then told me the most amazing things…kinda went like this:

Me: Who do you call if you get a bo-bo?
Her: I call you! cause you kiss band-aids before you put them on.
Me: Who do you call if someone hurts you?
Her: I call….(and that finger goes to her mouth again because she’s in deep thought)….I call Pappa!
Me: Why do you call Pappa?
Her: So he can hurt them back.
Me: Do you call anyone else?
Her: I call Daddy!!
Me: (trying so hard not to giggle) Why do you call Daddy?

Her: So he can arrest them! Then MawMaw T and Paw Paw C …can throw em in jail and never-never let them out!

Me: Oh wow! 

Her: Yep! Then MawMaw D takes me shopping at the piggy (Piggly Wiggly) place and get snacks then watch movies in her big big bed togever!

Never miss a moment to talk to your kids and really listen to what they have to say. If I could walk around with a camera on my head for the rest of their lives I would. I would never miss another day, or word they have said.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not soccer mom of the year or the one that bakes fresh homemade cookies for teachers just because. I don’t tend to volunteer and I rarely get involved with the other “super mom” things in life.

But!

I am and have always been there for my children. I focus on the foundation of their lives, making them to be strong, smart, caring individuals for when they decide to move out and leave, they will make any situation better.

My oldest bio-son is almost 17 years old now, he lives with his father in the upper part of the state because he is in Air Force ROTC, and his dad is active duty Air Force; so that’s the right place for him. ANYWAY! He called yesterday to ask my opinion on him doing usher detail at the Independence Bowl the day after Christmas, I said : “Well that is your decision, I am very proud of you and I always said I wouldn’t let things like visits with me get in the way of your memories. Although, it will mean you have to either switch weeks that you come down, OR go back up before Christmas Day.” (I don’t travel on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, haven’t since 1991)

He paused, and said “No, I won’t do it…(his voice cracked)…I’m not missing Christmas with you. I’ve never missed Christmas with you, and I never will. EVER.”

 

Have I mentioned how much I love my children?


English 101

Ok, so this kinda started the other night at the Vet’s office.

The Viking and I brought our Nordic Goddess in because she wasn’t doing to well, she has some weird skin thing going on…let’s just say Thank You Odin for Puppy Insurance!! (Odin fits with our current theme, push through it; remember your sense of humor)

Well, they take Loki (yes, that’s my puppy’s name) to the back and check her out; and that leaves me (a Cajun Smartass) and The Viking (my Norwegian love) alone to talk and observe people. This older gentleman walks up to the counter, and the Viking looks out the little window in the door, the following conversation commences:

Him: That guy has on a KU sweatshirt, where is that from?

Me: uhmm, could be Kentucky…Kent…Kansas (not looking up, playing Words on my phone)

Him: Oh, ok.

Me:(looking up from my phone like I am in deep thought)  You know it could be from Nebraska too

Him: HUH? How?

Me: Well, Nebraska has a silent “K” on it. You know, like “K-nee”, it could be from “KNeebraska” State. (I can sell  ice to an igloo..yes, I meant it that way)

Him: Really?

Me: Yeah, you know there are a few words that have a silent K

Him: (almost convinced)–Yeah, you’re…(I start smiling and giggling…I can’t let a good joke go unlaughed at)…you’re just wrong for that…

(he walks out because let’s face it, the Vet office is pretty dern boring and it was my dog that isn’t feeling well)

So, that leads us to today!

We were driving down the road to pick up the Heathen Girl Child from school and we pass a convenience store that has a sign out front advertising the sale of tickets for a Christmas event. The sign says:

Tickets just $700 a piece.

Well, I said “DAMN! They are proud of some Christmas lights this year”

The Viking says: “What you mean”

Me: Well that sign said tickets were $700 a piece, but I’m sure they meant $7.00. Punctuation is important!!

Viking: Yeah, you’re right. (GOOD JOB!)

Me: Yeah, it can make all the difference in the world. A simple request can turn weird without the proper punctuation. For example: (I know I sound rather matter of factly, but that’s because that is where I was going with it! I am an Education Major, it will be my job to tell people they are wrong !)

Hey! Lets go eat, Grandma.

Turns into :

Hey let’s go eat Grandma!

Viking: (Laughing…I get a special joy when I can actually get him to laugh at something I say) Ew disgusting!

Me: NOT LIKE THAT! PERV!

Then he didn’t say anything, he giggled to himself. See, I don’t know if the joke was on how he really meant it and he showed me to be the perv…or how I thought he meant it. I’ve been thinking about that for about 3 and a half hours now….and I’m still confused.

Initially, when I had the idea to write this blog…I was going to have a moral to the story, make me seem enlightened. You know:

Moral of the Story–

Don’t give a Cajun an opening for a simple joke, we will laugh about it for days!

But I’m thinking maybe it’s:

Don’t try to make a Viking laugh unless you are ready for the carnage of your joke being mutilated, and then have him laugh even harder over killing a joke.

He gives me a goal in life…I’m going to make him laugh like a crazy person just once! Lord knows I laugh enough at the stuff he says.

 


Real Time

Ok so this morning started off with some excitement!

I’ve recently started taking some new sleeping medicine since my insomnia is massive and can overtake even the most powerful of sleep aids. I am very fearful of over-sleeping and not getting the kids to school when the Viking isn’t home, so I tend to set a variety of alarms through out my room. Let’s see, the TV goes off…my clock goes off…and my phone goes off at various times and at various tones so I know how urgent it is that I get up.

Now, that being said, I have developed a rather nasty skill. I can reset clocks in my sleep. Not just add time to the regular time, but change alarms as well. And, it appears that I may have done this last night. I blame the sleep medicine. It says clearly on the label….”If you are the mom, you will probably reset every clock in your house just so you will over sleep and miss EVERYTHING that needs to be done in the morning.”

Well, we had the time change this last weekend and for the most part I have been doing pretty dern good on it, if I do say so myself….until…this morning. This morning the TV turned on; I turned it off. The phone alarm started; I turned it off. I have an iPhone, I actually turned off the phone…now we know that takes time and a certain hand-eye coordination to get done properly, and I snoozed my clock, and then woke up 1 minute later…LATE!

Now in my head I was very white rabbit, “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late for a very important date” and I start panic mode. Now, my 10 yr old is the only one I have to actually help get ready in the morning due to her exceptionalities. So I start yelling….GET UP! GET UP! I’M SORRY…I OVERSLEPT GET UP! And she jumps out of bed, I don’t think she ever actually touched the floor before saying “No momma, I’m up…no water!” ..ok, let’s pause in this for a second, she has been fighting me in the mornings, sooo last night I may have said “If you don’t get up on the first get up in the morning, I am dousing you with ice water”…yeah, and I overslept.

Well we power through, and I am looking at the clock “It’s 6:40 we have to go, come on come on.” Now in the course of the next 6 minutes, I have her dressed, shoes on, hair brushed, teeth brushed her medicine in and a quick piece of toast. My alarm goes off again, because apparently I hit snooze. I ask the boy to go and turn off my alarm for me, and I hear laughing.

I just stop moving, and stare at him.

Me: What is so flipping funny when I am running this late in the morning?

Him: *still laughing mind you”…Momma…*more obnoxiously hilarious laughter*…what time is it?

Me: Boy don’t mess with me!

Him: Momma…seriously *he stopped to breathe*…what time is it?

Me: *looks at the clock with extreme annoyance* Geez boy, it’s 6:46! The bell rings in…..*and I stop*

Him: *look of joy and satisfaction…the ha! told you so face*…what time?

Me: *slowly* 6:46…uhm, ok then! Thanks for participating in our little “I’m late drill” this morning, you have all passed…Princess, great job! Apparently I am going back to 3rd grade to learn how to tell time, and we have an hour before we need to leave. Get something real to eat for breakfast.

Dern sleep medicine, makes me be Super Mom extreme.


Halloween

So last week was a fuzzy blur–here are the higlights:

Monday, Oct 24–the 7th grader had an eye appointment and I learned you can have a freckle on your eye, he says it brought us closer. I asked how, he says “because we both have odd ball freckles that don’t know they should be on our noses.” (I have a freckle on my ear lobe, everytime I got my ears pierced it was crooked because they would try to pierce the freckle instead of the purple marker mark)

Not much else through out the week, and then we have Halloween! Oh the fun the demons had!

I had a “dead” Ninja, “I thought Ninjas were good and could get away” I said, the 7th grader says..”yeah but my eye freckle got in my way and I missed the tip of my blade” …I pointed out “if you’re dead, you didn’t miss it”. Yeah, that got me the “look”

 a “dead” Princess Pirate…but “a scary one momma, not the kind you go awe..but you hafta say ooo dead pirate”…so I asked her, “Did you walk the plank?” she said “No, they blew my ship up,” and then she just turned around and walked away; so ok..my 3 yr old’s ship has been blown up.

a “dead” Mario…yes from the video game. “How did you die? Mario has all of the extra lives” to which I was told yeah, but this is how Mario looks after you play Momma. Ahhh innocence of babes! “No, I’m teaching him how to fly, I don’t kill him,” and the 6 year old says “Really Momma? you’re joking me right” He doesn’t quite have the vernacular for sarcasm, but he sure does have the tone!

a “dead” pretty girl. My 10 yr old had an aneureysm and stroke when she was 15 months old, was in a coma and woke up on Halloween 9 years ago. So, since then we have tried to make Halloween a celebration once we were told everything would be ok. Now, I don’t like to associate the word “dead” with this child, so I asked her if she could come up with something else….she says “Sure! How bout…I’m your worst Nightmare!” …Yep! Nailed it!

a Thor. He wasn’t dead because: Thor is a God and Gods don’t die. Damn the logic. Although at some point during trick or treating Thor became the “Goddess of Thunder” because of his face jewelry. (the Mask)

Needless to say, it was a flipping blast…I have never been more proud or pleased to be their Momma/Step-Momma (Thor is my step-son). As they pillaged the candy from unsuspecting people, they all walked away with a “Thank You! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!”

Manners people, they make the world go around. Plus, if you don’t use them…I may get you in your eye freckle.


Saturday

Not much going on in the world for us today.

Since we are 9 days out from Halloween, I thought I would share something that scares me.

Hi, my name is Patricia, and I am deathly afraid of  the Ta-Ti. (pronounced: tah-tie)

First, let me define the ta-ti, as a Cajun child you are told that you better be good or else the ta-ti is going to get you. You learned quick to develop this healthy fear of the ta-ti, because this creature lives in your mind, and is only as bad as you make him/her/ “IT” out to be. My ta-ti, is a clown.

See, birthday clowns…they don’t bother me, I can draw them and look at pictures of their upside smiles all day long and think “You poor sick fool, your mom really did a number on you” and not flinch even the slightest.

BUT! Let that fool from It by Stephen King flash across something, yeah I’m under a couch, coffee table, hiding behind Trond…using his hands to cover my eyes..because lets face it, if I can’t see you, then you can’t see me.

Pennywise, yes; I know my nemesis’ name, is one scary thing. He lives in drains and watches you. This is the reason I do not walk on: drains on the side of the road, grates covering holes in parking lots, grated stairs, and do not put my hand near drains in sinks/tubs etc. Yes! I am odd I know, well aware. The great part of all of it, I have raised 5 evilly delicious children that think it is hilarious to jump on the grates, fake pass their foot into the drains on the side of the road, and reach through the drains in parking lots…and scream : “MOMMA! HELP!! PENNYWISE GOT ME!!”…yep, they are wonderful fun. If you ever need to know if your heart works, hang out with my kids, they will have you reaching for a defib machine.

My children keep me young, because the reinforce my fears, and old at the same time…because I think they are trying to see exactly what it would take to give Momma a heart attack on the spot. I believe they have a pool going on who can cause it first.