Classic: 1.23.15

Lady J, on the way home from school: Punch Buggy Blue Classic! Hey, Mom? Is ‘classic’ synonymous with ‘old?’

Me: I guess it can be. It’s synonymous with a few different words.

Bud: Ya mean wike it can mean a bunch of things?

Me: Yes. Classic can mean ‘retro’ or ‘vintage’ or….

J, interrupting: So, ‘old’..as in ‘made in the olden days’ or ‘old fashioned’ but you still think it’s cool because you’re classic too?

#touché #wellplayed

Ps: Next week’s vocabulary lesson will include ‘nostalgia’ as in ‘remember the good old days when you were little and didn’t have any inkling that you were smarter than your mother’ and ‘remember back when you were also sweet without the sass?’

Adventures of K-Mad, NJ Shore edition, episode 247365711: Skinny Dipping

August 2014

K-Mad emerges from the pool, needing to use the facilities. I take her to go and remove her bathing suit. She ‘does her thing’ and refuses to put back on her wet bathing suit.  I acquiesce because 1) It’s a wet bathing suit and 2) I get that and 3) She’s 2 and 4) Like a pro, I {mostly} choose my battles with the wisdom of those who came before me and trained me well. (Thanks, Mom!)

So I wrap her up in a towel, carry her back to the pool deck and sit her on my lap. Plus, she’s very excited to be “incognito nudie-patootie” so it’s all good…

After a few minutes Bud requests a kick board from the side of the pool. I put K-Mad, still naked yet wrapped, on the chair, and proceeded to get the kick board for Bud. He swims away towards the deep end to hang with Lady J and….

…As I turn back towards the chairs, I see a towel-less naked K-Mad hop off the chair and step off the side of the pool deck and into the shimmering water with the all of the grace and form of an Olympic synchronized swimmer.

I jump in and grab her. She comes up, spouting water out like a beautiful garden fountain fairy and grinning ear to ear. “K-Mad!  You can’t swim AND you’re not wearing a bathing suit!” I exclaimed.

“Oh yeah, Mamma! I fowgot! Das so siwwy!” she laughed her trademark maniacal laugh, “Oopsies! Sowwy ’bout dat, Mom!”

#thiskid #sothathappened

(Thankfully, we were the only people at the pool, other than the lifeguards who we’re cleaning up for the day and didn’t seem to notice the nakedness of the situation. Also, I foresee boarding school, perhaps military, in her future)

Oh Sh*#! 8.7.14

While watching The Goonies as I cook dinner, Lady J enters the kitchen and whispers, “Mom, what does shit mean? Because Chunk says it a lot in the movie. Like, a lot, and I just don’t know what it means.”

All I can think is, “Oh SH*#! This is the beginning of the end.”

From her tone I can tell she knows it’s not an appropriate word, and my initial thought is to respond harshly with the standard, “We DO NOT use that word. It is a bad word and I don’t EVER want to hear you say it. Understand?”

But a flash from my own childhood played in my head. I was standing at our front door, maybe around 8 years old. I asked what the word Hell meant. It was an honest question that I really didn’t know the answer to. I have no idea where I had heard it and I had no idea that it was an inappropriate word to use. So I asked. The reaction I got was less than explanatory, though I never said it again in front of my parents, as a child.

So I take a step back and answer her with honesty, “It means poop. But it’s not a nice word and you are not allowed to say it. It’s rude.”

“Is it like ‘hate’ and ‘stupid’?” She questions with translucent innocence.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Okay. Then I won’t say it. But Mommy?  Chunk says it a awfully lot of times when bad things happen that are also silly. It’s kinda funny. He kinda says it like when you say ‘oh dear’ or ‘oh my goodness,'” she chuckles knowing she nailed the context usage.

“Oh poop,” I mutter, “Here we go.”

She exits the kitchen quietly giggling, “Oh poop…”

#igotplayed

Jewish Guilt & Hanukkah Gelt

December 2014

Me to Customer Service at supermarket: Excuse me? Do you have any Hanukkah gelt?

CS: What? Hanukkah guilt?

Me, attempting a joke: No. Gelt. But if you eat enough of it, it’s the same thing.

CS, staring at me like a deer in headlights: Hey Bob! Do you know what isle the Jewish Guilt is in?

Convos With Kids #247365711: Spelling

September 2014

Lady J is starting to spell out her responses, as is expected, as she learns to read more and is used to hearing adults spell out words. Bud is trying to follow suit, as is expected from a younger sibling….

…Except Bud doesn’t have a clue about the correlation between phonics and letters yet and seems to limit his requests to using four letters at a time. His attempts are generally innocent and difficult to decipher: Mommy? Can I have k-b-z-y? (Translation: goldfish.)

However, this morning, while in the waiting room at the dentist’s office, he loudly asked if he could play with that d-o-n-g while he had one hand in his pocket and the other pointed in the general direction of the other people in room…

…There are no words for the obvious embarrassment that the 2 young gentlemen who shared the tiny space with us felt, as one’s face flushed bright red, and the other covered his face in his hands and stifled a guffaw.

Fortunately, the door to the back opened and the dental hygienist called on us to follow her, or it may have been more #awkward.

#soTHAThappened #boysandtheirtoys #kidssaythedarnedestthings

(After his checkup was complete and we were exiting, I discovered that Bud was referring to the “treasure chest” for post-visit-prizes.)

Fawts Awe Awways Funny

 

K-Mad is happily reading (playing with) the book “Farts in the Wild” while Lady J & Bud are busy cleaning up and IMG_4475putting toys away.

Bud, clearly recognizing that she is not doing her fair share of the work, walks up to her and sternly says, “K-Mad, stop futzin’ awound. It’s time to cwean up!”

He then turns to me and starts hysterically laughing, “Ah-hahahaha!!!! Get it, Mom? See’s futzin’ awound cause see’s weading the FAWT book! Hahahaha! I finally told a joke with a good punch wine!  YES! Now DAT was funny!” He saunters away still giggling, amused and full of pride… #fartsarefunny

{Meanwhile, down the hall, Lady J is busy telling Grandma the “Interrupting Fart knock-knock joke” Grandma was not nearly as amused by such shannanigans…}

 

The Creepy Elf on the Shelf: 12.5.14

 Lady J: Mom, did you know that Happy is in the bathroom?

 Me: What? Why would he be in the bathroom?

 J: I don’t know but don’t move him. I don’t want him to lose his magic…. But Mom? Maybe cover his eyes with toilet paper bc he’s kinda creepin’ me out in there. I mean, do you think he’s watching? Ew…

 #WhenGoodElvesGoBad

 (This is what happens when your MIL panics because we both forgot to move the Elf…again…and she didn’t want the kids to find him in the same place….again…#NiceTryGrandma)

IMG_5679IMG_5680

Somewhere Over the Rainbow: 12.2.14

IMG_5665Our local community center has a Christmas tree in its lobby that the kids are naturally curious about and enamored with. They ventured over to get a close up / hands on look and asked what all the tags were for.

On the tree are tags with names of elderly folks who need or want items for Christmas. The program is called Elves for the Elderly and you pick a tag and get the item/s on the back for the person.

Bud and K-Mad wanted to pick a tag from the Christmas tree at community center for the program Elves for the Elderly. They asked me to read the names so they could decide who to get a gift for. After reading about 25 names, they both settled on Dorothy for the following reasons:

Bud: Da Wizawd of Oz was made a wong time ago so Dowothy is pwobabwy weawy owd and can’t get huh own Chwistmas pwesents.

K-Mad: Actshuwy, see needs somefing to get huh back ova da wainbow

Bud: Yeah, but see aweady came back wif huh shoes. Now we dust need ta send da pwesent fwom Pennsywvania ta Kansas, I fink.

K-Mad was also very concerned that Elphaba didn’t have a tag but Bud reassured her that she can get her own gifts because she can do magic…

Needlesstosay, my little munchkins are doing their small part to take good care of Dorothy this year and spread the magic and love around.

#GivingTuesday #Wicked-ly thoughtful #SomewhereOverTheRainbow

The Day Off: 6.18.14

I took today off.

It wasn’t easy since I’m a stay at home mom and I’m down the shore, alone with my 3 young children, but I did it.

I took today off.

Just. Like. That.

There was no babysitter, no massage, no mani-pedi, no pampering, and no quiet alone time, but I did it anyway.

I took today off.

Breakfast was not served today. It was eaten in front of the television and consisted of cold hard boiled eggs, made yesterday, along with the fruit I pre-cut and dry cereal. My oldest climbed the counter to retrieve the cereal, plates and bowls, peeled the eggs for herself and her siblings, and found the fruit in the fridge. The children cleared their dirty dishes directly into the dishwasher, not my hands. I made no effort to get up from the table or put the newspaper down.  They each consumed a full and healthy meal while I enjoyed every slow sip of my coffee.

I took breakfast off.

My 2 oldest to chose their outfits and dressed themselves. They prepared their own toothbrushes and brushed without constructive criticism. They worked together to make beds and get ready for the day. They argued without my intervention and they eventually figured it all out. The only assistance I offered was getting my youngest ready, doing hair, and applying sunscreen. There were shouts, demands, and a few tears, none of which emanated from me. They were less than perfect looking children and it was a less than a perfectly cleaned apartment. We still managed to leave for the playground at a reasonable hour.

I took the morning off.

I walked down the boardwalk while the kids rode their scooters and balance bike. I didn’t carry a single child, helmet, or mode of transportation. I didn’t shout, “Stay to the right!” “Hurry up!” “Come on!” or even a single child’s name.  The kids took turns taking the lead and we made it to the playground alive, despite giving my “momscles” and voice a rest. The view and the sunshine were glorious!

I took our walk off.

When we arrived at the playground, I found a nice shaded area and sat down. I didn’t push a swing. I didn’t play hide & seek. I didn’t run all over the vast area checking on children and searching for their whereabouts. I didn’t even take out my phone to snap a quick pic. There was only the happy sound of my children playing together, playing alone, imagining and pretending, and offering one another help and directions when needed. Despite my overt lack of participation, they had a great time.  It was music to my ears.

I took the playground off.

At lunch I had them make their own sandwiches and plates. Cream-cheese or peanut-butter isn’t so difficult to schmear on a bagel, apples and bananas can be eaten without my assistance, veggies were pre-cut yesterday, and hummus is great for dipping into.  I could not have cared less about double dipping.

I took lunch off.

I left the clean, unfolded laundry in a pile, dishes in the sink, and did not return a single email, text, or phone call.  I made them all nap because it was my day off and everyone should nap on their day off, so that’s what I did.

I took nap time off.

We headed out to the beach after waking. I carried the bag of towels and nothing else. They each toted their own shovel and bucket. I set up a chair near the ocean’s edge, plopped down, and watched them play. I did not jump waves or dig holes. I did not take them out to the “floaters” or assist them in body surfing or boogie boarding. I did not take a single picture or video. I just sat and watched as they jumped waves, chased seagulls, dug for tickle crabs, clams, and China. They laughed, splashed, and made their own memories with each other at a favorite family spot from my own childhood.

I took the beach off.

We had leftovers for dinner. The microwave did all of the work. Dinner was delicious…again.

I took dinner off.

I took today off to have some time both with and away from my kids. They are my work, my worry, my passion, my deep breaths, my inspiration, my exhaustion, and my world.

I took today off: without planning, without guilt, without worry, without absence, without a substitute, without judgement, and without my own critique.

I took today off, and it was fabulous!

Doing the Dishes with my Sister: December, 1995 

Background:

During my freshman year in college my mother became accustomed to my younger sister being the only child home to help out around the house.  I returned home from Pitt on winter break to find that Avie had grown taller than me. Our childhood sibling squabbles were now under new terms given this fact, but I still had speed.  Our childhood home also had the all-important “indoor track” seamlessly attached kitchen to living room to hallway, past the stairs and back around.

What went down:

We were the doing dishes in the kitchen post dinner. Avie was clearing and loading the dishwasher, while I was responsible for the pre-dishwasher-washing. Mom had retired upstairs for the evening.  As Avie entered the kitchen, dishes from the dining room in hand, I squirted her with the sink hose and chaos & madness ensued…

She immediately took off after me as I dropped the hose and darted into the living room. I knew if she caught me, I’d be pummeled.

We flew into the hall and I used the banister as leverage to swing myself around and sprint the 5yd dash through the kitchen and back around.

She was right on my heels as she threatened me through laughter and I squealed in excitement and fear.

It. Was. On!

Kitchen, living room, hallway, kitchen, living room, hallway, kitchen living room hallway, faster and faster and faster!

Mom shouted from her bedroom at the top of the stairs, “AVIE! Are you doing the dishes?!?!?!?”

Kitchen Living room Hallway! Past the 3-D painting titled “At the Circus” Kitchen Living Room Hallway!

My lungs were heaving and I was desperate for a rest but afraid to slow!

As I Alaskan Baseballed* my way around the banister one more time I knew it was now or never!

I whipped around, startling Avie, and grabbed her sleeves, pulling hard and knotting them together so that her shoulders and elbows could not wriggle up and out…

“A-VIEEEE!!!! Do the dishes!!!!”

I quickly pulled her trademark hoodie over her head and yanked the strings so tightly that only her nose was visible and then tied the leftover string to the banister.

Avie reared back, unable to free herself. “WHAT, AM-I, STUCK-TO?” she shouted with each whip of her head. “I! Can’t! Get! Out!”

I am a helpless heap of hysterics on the floor under the Circus picture, tears streaming down my face from laughter.

“Ahhhh-Vieeeeeee! Are you playing around? You’re supposed to be doing the dishes!!!!”

“MOM! I’M STUCK!  HELP! Seriously!  I need help!”

“JUST DO the DISHES!”

It took me 10 minutes to calm down enough to untie her…I can’t remember who finished the doing dishes…

 

*Alaskan Baseball is a game played at Camp Robindel for Color War,(ahem, “blue and white activities”)

How it’s played:

1) The “batter” at home plate throws a kickball to the opposing team in the field.
2) The batters team lines up shoulder to shoulder down the third baseline and the batter circles his team.
3) Each complete circle is one point
4) Team members on each end often hook their elbows do the batter can latch on and fling herself around. 

5) The fielding team must all run to where the ball was thrown, line up, and pass the ball in an under/over pattern up and back the entire team. 6) Once they complete the passing, the batter is no longer able to score and the next member goes.

It’s hysterically awesome. (Possibly better than “paddle-ball” but that’s for another time…