Dummies And DMX

Like other toddlers, Baby Girl has the uncanny ability to pick up on every word that isn’t quite appropriate for her to say. Even if she hears it just once, her radar goes off and she adds it to her lexicon.

Bilbo had just swiped Baby Girl’s snack off the table, and after yelling at him, she said, “Bilbo a dummy!”

I’d be irritated, too, but that was a bit harsh. “We don’t say ‘dummy’ Baby Girl, that’s not nice,” I told her. “Did you hear someone say it at school?”

“No, Mommy, I hear Daddy say dummy,” she answered.

“Ha ha! It wasn’t me this time!” Little Man, who has been getting lectured over certain words he’s taught Baby Girl, exclaimed. “Oooooooh, Daddy is in trouble! He called Bilbo a dummy when he wouldn’t come inside last night.”

I called Sam in to explain the situation and ask if that were true, figuring that he’d take a hint and say that he shouldn’t have called the dog a dummy.

“Yeah, I called him a dummy, because he is a dummy. He wouldn’t come inside when it was raining.”

I sighed. “But is that a nice word to use when talking about our dog?”

“It’s true.”

Little Man giggled. I sighed a bit louder and gave Sam the look.

“Baby Girl, Daddy shouldn’t have called Bilbo a ‘dummy.’ That wasn’t nice, okay? You don’t go around calling people dummies,” Sam told her.

“Dummy,” she said, with a grin on her face.

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A little while later, I was helping Little Man with his homework. He had a thick math packet to complete from when he was absent. I helped him through it, but not without him trying to drive me crazy by getting out of his seat every five seconds to check on something or pee or get a drink or see what Baby Girl was doing with the tablet or to get a snack… It didn’t help that Baby Girl kept interrupting us with her list of demands. “Mommy, you get my milk, please. Mommy, I want a cereal bar. Mommy, I want my favorite sucker. Mommy, I want a THAT.” (When she’s not sure what she wants, she’ll ask for a “THAT” and wait for me to suggest things that she could possibly want.)

“Y’all gonna make me lose my mind up in here, up in here. Y’all gonna make me act a fool, up in here, up in here. Y’all gonna make me lose my cool, up in here, up in here,” I sang. This was better than saying other words.

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“Ooh, what song was that?” Little Man wanted to know.

“The theme song to my life. I don’t know, the name is Y’all Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind or something. Let me look it up on YouTube.”

So I did. And I started playing it and then Little Man started break dancing. And then Sam came back in.

“Oh, my god, E, what are you letting them listen to?!” He rushed over to the computer.

“That Y’all Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind song. Why?”

He close the tab with the song playing. “Did you not hear the words he was saying?”

“Just the opening part.”

He whispered some of the rest of the song in my ear. (You can read the lyrics here.) Yikes. Luckily LM couldn’t understand any more of the song, either.

“So, dear, you do realize that you were just riding me about saying ‘dummy’ around Baby Girl, right?” Sam asked. “And then you play a really explicit DMX song to them a few minutes later?”

Hmph.

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Things Kids Say Thursdays: Pranks

Earlier this week, Little Man told me he wanted to play a prank on Sam’s mother. His mom is fun to mess with since she believes pretty much everything and her reaction is hilarious. He had recently acquired fake dog poop and a crawling toy cockroach, so we talked about how he could get her with those items. After thinking about it for a bit, he told me he had some new ideas:

  1. Call MawMaw and tell her that Baby Girl got a shot at the doctor’s office, which she had an allergic reaction to and she had to go to the hospital.
  2. Tell her that Daddy had a heat stroke after staying outside too long. (LM often believes he is having heat strokes.)
  3. Tell her that Daddy had a lemonade stand set up outside, and when he went to take a drink of lemonade, it turns out a butterfly cocoon had fallen into his cup, which he drank.

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We then had a talk about what’s appropriate to joke about.

LM ended up going to his MawMaw’s and telling her he had to do a number two really bad. After he went into the bathroom, he called her for help, telling her “I missed!” She went in there to see the fake turd beside the toilet and freaked the fuck out. Well done, kid!

Weekend Coffee Share: All About That Easter

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Remember how I promised sweet treats in last week’s Weekend Coffee Share post? Well, I’m delivering. And as long as you don’t mind my children’s possibly dirty hands having helped make the treats, then you’re welcome to partake.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that we had a fun time with Easter this weekend. There were no cute outfits or churchgoing, but we did decorate cakes and dye eggs. (No lectures, por favor.)

Earlier this week, I decided to make a cake with the kids — either an Easter Bunny cake or an Easter egg cake. I went with Easter egg, since that seemed easier more fun, as they could each do their own. The cake making was indeed a good time, although it didn’t quite start out that way! I had a little accident at the beginning that made me yell.

“Did you cut yourself again?” Sam asked matter-of-factly when he came to investigate the loud f-bomb I dropped.

“No,” I said sheepishly, avoiding making eye contact.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” I said.

“E…what did you do?” He stood there with his arms folded, indicating he wasn’t leaving until I spilled the beans.

So I told him. “I plugged in the mixer before putting the beaters in, then one of the beaters got stuck and I accidentally turned on the power while trying to eject the beater and it beat my finger.”

He didn’t remotely try to conceal his laughter.

As the cake was baking, Sam had a question for me. “E, what flavor cake did you say this was?”

“Chocolate.”

Sam held up the box. “You made Devil’s food cake, E. Devil’s food cake! For Easter!” He again roared with laughter.

The laughter didn’t stop there, as Baby Girl had us rolling next. After I finished baking the cakes, shaped them into ovals, and frosted them, I let the kids do the decorating. Little Man was very excited to make his Easter egg cake, and was very careful in his decorating. Baby Girl, on the other hand, had one goal in mind: eat the decorations. After much coaxing and showing her how to put her M&Ms on, Baby Girl put a single piece of candy on her cake on her own and promptly took it back off and ate it.

The egg decorating was fun as well, even though Baby Girl declined to join outside of throwing two of the eggs. She was far more interested in procuring and eating more M&Ms. (FYI, this is the first time she’s had M&Ms. They are apparently the toddler equivalent of crack.)

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Sam and I put some candy in baskets for the kids before going to bed. Plus Baby Girl got a Percy train from Thomas & Friends (who she calls ToTo) and Little Man got a little Lego set.

Now all that’s left to do is have an Easter egg hunt. Unfortunately, it rained most of last night and there’s no sign of it letting up much today, so we’ll probably have our hunt inside after Baby Girl’s nap. All in all, fun holiday. 🙂

Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Diana at Part-Time Monster.

And Then There Was One

This past weekend I wrote about Sam getting the stomach bug that’s going around and Baby Girl getting Round 2 of it. She seemed okay on Sunday, but woke up on Monday feeling bad. Not only did she sleep two hours past her normal wake-up time, she acted so exhausted that she couldn’t hold her head up. She would sit up and them slump over. It was scary. That, combined with her starting puking again, a dry diaper (after sleeping 12 hours), and generally being unresponsive led to her going to the doctor.

We called the nurse line and they recommended calling 911 or taking her directly to the ER, but on the way to the hospital, she became more responsive and started chatting herself up in the little mirror that’s on the backseat, so we went to the Children’s Urgent Care instead. She was seen immediately and the NP said she was mildly dehydrated and had the stomach flu (Round 3), so she was given some Pedialyte. After waiting a while and seeing that she was able to hold it down and otherwise seemed okay, we left. By nighttime, she was back to her old self. It was crazy how she went from being that sick in the morning to running around the house squealing at night. Little Man never really got sick beyond getting croup a few times, so maybe that’s just par for the course with the little ones.

The bug didn’t stop there, though. I woke up in the middle of the night with the lovely throwing up and everything. So not fun. In between bouts of the not-fun-stuff, I slept most of Tuesday and a lot of Wednesday. I don’t think I’ve ever sleep that much in 48 hours in my life.

Today is better, thankfully! Now it’s time for catching up on the cleaning (apparently the house went into self-destruct mode during the two days I was sequestered in my room), laundry, grocery shopping, etc. Or maybe I’ll let the house remain in self-destruct mode, let the laundry continue piling up, and let everyone exist on diets of cereal and blueberries until tomorrow while I catch up on reading blogs. The first way might cause me to overexert myself, and heavens know I wouldn’t want to do that and risk a Round 2.

And now that leaves Little Man. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he doesn’t get it. And that no one follows Baby Girl’s steps and gets a Round 2 and 3. And that she limits herself to three rounds. That’s not too much to ask for, right?

The Elf Returns

Like many things, I don’t do holidays well. I’m not the biggest fan, but since Little Man is all about everything related to the holidays, I try. Unfortunately, I’m like that student who busts their ass trying and still gets a D-.

For example–I’m not great at decorating, and even my best effort leaves people asking “When are you putting your decorations out?” You mean an appropriately themed table cloth, Christmas tree, wreath, and garland aren’t decorating? Fucking Pinterest raising people’s expectations.

It’s now time for the Elf on the Shelf. I can think StomperDad at All In A Dad’s Work for being more on my game with this one. (That’s two days in a row he has inspired posts…you could call me lazy, but I’d just suggest following this guy!) He has posted about his elves and plans to do a daily post. This will help me remember to make my elf move spots and maybe even do neat things.

After reading the linked post, I told my husband, “We’ve gotta get Rufus out.” That’s the name of our Elf.

I found him in the floor a couple weeks ago. I had stuffed him behind something on top of my wardrobe and knocked him off. I absentmindedly crammed him somewhere else, but on Monday night, I couldn’t remember where, of course.

Sam and I looked and looked. We found his hat in the floor, so obviously he had to be nearby.

“Is he in the safe?” Sam asked.

“No, why would I put him there?”

“Well…did you put him in a drawer?”

“No.”

After much looking, Sam found him stuffed in a boot in my shoe closet, which is right next to the wardrobe. So in addition to being hatless, he also had to suffer foot smell. I got some duct tape out and taped his hat to his head so it wouldn’t fall off and now he’s out:

Little Man was very excited to see him yesterday. He placed a Goldfish cracker and a Teddy Graham on his chest as an offering. That’s a way to make sure you’re on the Nice List. 😉 He was disappointed that Rufus hadn’t moved this morning, but I explained that he’s from a different time zone as us, so that happens. He has now moved.

Any bets on how many times he moves spot between now and Christmas? Last year it was under five. He also stayed well after the holidays. Even Little Man asked, “Isn’t he supposed to be back at the North Pole by now?”

Do you have any traditions like the Elf on the Shelf?