Stuff That Punk Says

After a small disagreement with Grandma Penny he asks, "Are you mad at me Grandma?"
No, I'm not mad. I'm just a little  disappointed.
"So Grandma, you should go lie down on your bed, that will make you feel better. And maybe you should have some tea. You should go lie down and have some chamomile tea."

"No mom, that's not the right name. It's Tamaciabacia- lulaala. That's the right name. I'm right, mom"

"When me and my friend are big, we are going to be best friends like brothers, but not really brothers like me and the baby, but really favorite friends. And we are going to live together and be hanging out guys together."

What do you want to be when you grow up?
"Mario from Super Mario Brothers. And then Spiderman. Electric Spiderman."

Ski Bunny

After getting our season ski passes this past weekend, the munchkin is getting excited to start hitting the slopes. He decided to make sure everything fit properly, and tried his gear on last night just before bedtime. 

He never asked about his snow pants. Should I be worried?

He was so excited, there may have even been some ski boot tap dancing going on. Maybe I should be worried.

And some weird ski boot swagger strut thing. Think John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I mean if John Travolta was 4, half naked and wearing ski boots, that's what he would look like.
Clearly I should be worried.


He knows I'm worried.

Nuggets of Wisdom

On Marriage:
I dont want to get married mom. Evie at school asked me, but I don't think I want to marry her right now. Because I'm a kid, and you have to be an e-dult to get married.
But I don't want to get married, because I just want to be a Hanging Out Guy.
What does a Hanging Out Guy do?
They just hang out mom.
Do they have jobs?
Their job is to hang out, so I'm going to be one of those guys, OK?

On Being Famous:
I don't need a haircut mom, because if you cut it, then people won't think I'm so cool. If it's long they know I'm a Rock Star. So don't cut it, OK? Because I'm a cool Rock Star.

On Math:
One hundred has a one and a zero, right mom?
No, one hundred has a one and two zeros, the number ten has a one and a zero.
That's not right mom. I'm wicked smart, and that's not right. One hundred has one zero. I'm right mom.
One hundred has a one and two zeros.
Um, that's not right mom, I'm really good at this and that is not right.
Actually it is honey.
Nu-uh mom.
Are you arguing with me?
No mom, I'm not arguing with you, I'm not.
So I'm not arguing, but I'm right, OK?

On Dessert:
Can I have this chocolate, mom?
Sure, you can have it as soon as you eat your dinner.
OK mom, I got it. But can I tell you something? I have a better plan.
How about I eat the chocolate now and then I eat all my dinner. Isn't that a good plan?

Reprimanded

I have been reprimanded by my little sister who just arrived home for the Thanksgiving break. Apparently people read this silly thing, and would like an update here and there. Damn you people, don't you know I'm incredibly busy over here eating bon bons on the couch and watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills all day long?? Sheesh.

Because I have been so neglectful, I will begin by giving you this:

   

I'm sure it will come in handy someday if any of you need some blackmail material on me. Or the hubby for that matter. Needless to ay Halloween was AWESOME. How can it not be when one prances around in red spandex for hours? Jack Jack has a bit of a deer in the headlights thing going on, and Dash thought he was really Ironman, or as he says, I Run Man. But it was fun either way. Again, there was spandex, people.

Of course we also had the annual pumpkin carving forced family fun, which was way more fun than forced this year. 

The munchkin butchered three gourds while the peanut did his best with a box of crayons and a small puntin. Little Red became an expert ghost story teller thanks to his Grandma Penny, and Marci almost burned the house down. It doesn't get much better than that if you ask me.

It's officially winter here, and we have been taking advantage of the snow. Snowshoeing, sledding, and snowman making, oh my. The littlest man is sleeping as I write this, and the redheads are building something out in the snow. I'm not sure yet exactly what it's going to be yet, as the munchkin has popped his head in the door no less than a dozen times asking me for things like a humongous hat, an Argentina jersey, blocks, a knife, cups and a stick. Let's just pretend they're creative and not strange, OK?

The peanut is growing like a weed, and recently learned to do this very cool trick:

Of course we're so proud.

Other than that, we have just been hanging. 

If you got to hang out with these punks everyday you'd be reluctant to spend much time doing much else either.

A Bit Of Extra Cargo

This adorable little munchkin helped his Papa pack for a recent business trip. He took all the clothes and toiletries set out and put them neatly into all of the compartments within the suitcase. What a helper!

The next day we got this picture message.

Apparently, the munchkin thought it was very important his Papa had his doodle pad and had shoved in into one of the zippered pockets within the suitcase. You know, just in case he happened to have some down time in the hotel and felt the need to sketch a bit, make some notes, write his name, or draw some pictures of ninjas. He also had a dozen or so blocks shoved in with his socks so he could build some stuff if he wanted to.

Such a thoughtful son.

Jello??

As I was making dinner the other night, the munchkin asked if I had any Jello.

What do you need Jello for honey?

For my hair mom.

Your hair??

Yeah. You know, like Uncle Freddy did to my hair when he was here. I need some more Jello like he had to make it stick up. So mom, do we have any Jello????

It took me a minute, but when I realized he was asking for hair gel and not actually wanting to smear a food product into his hair, I was relieved. Because with Uncle Freddy, you just never know.

Back In The Day

Me and my three brothers with my beautiful mother circa 1982.

How did she have three more kids after this I 'll never know. Two is hard enough.

That woman, she's amazing.

The Elephant In The Room

This issue is extremely touchy around here, but I realize it needs to be addressed. I have been tiptoeing around the big redhead for months, hesitant to bring up the subject. Yet as each day goes by, we are all more and more aware that it is not going to do any good to wait it out, as I'm fairly positive time is not going to change the result.

I am talking about the very serious issue of the peanut NOT HAVING RED HAIR.

For the longest time there was so little of it on his head, that seen at certain angles and in specific light, it could have been considered strawberry blonde. The hubby has always referred to both our boys as "my redheads" and no one has done anything to correct this. His own brother is a very light strawberry blonde, so he assumed that was the shade the peanut was going to be. I'm here to say it's not true, there is no color in this kid's hair that can possibly resemble any shade of red. It's blonde, plain and simple. Toe head blonde. White blonde. Blonde, blonde, blonde.

Blonde.

Part of me is sad, as two ginger babies would have been really, really fun. But most of me is secretly SO THRILLED. You see, whenever I imagined myself having kids, they were blonde. I never really thought about it conciously, but when the redheaded munchkin arrived, I realized it was a shock to be holding this tiny creature that looked nothing like me. At all. It was as if I had nothing to do with the making of him in the first place. If I hadn't had actually been there to witness his birth, I wouldn't have picked this kid out of a line up as my own flesh and blood. (Except for the fact that he was a Mini Me of my husband, so of course I would have picked him out). Everyone in my family is or was blonde. I'm blonde, my sisters are all blonde, I have blonde brothers, my mom is blonde. Even my dad and a brother, who have very dark hair, were blonde as a children. I didn't even know I had a mental image of the babies I was to have, but holding that fiery redhead in the hospital, I realized I had been expecting something else. Something that looked like me. He did not, and I was surpirised. Of course I quickly got over any preconcieved notions I thought about my babies to be, and moved on to adoring this kiddo in all his red haired glory.

I mean, really, he is pretty amazing if I do say so myself.

So he is blonde. Very, very, VERY blonde.

And really?

He is pretty amazing if I do say so myself.

So do I change the name of this site? I considered that. But I have decided not to, and for good reason. The munchkin overheard us discussing this and he piped up with his take on the matter, and I've decided he is on to something. How can you argue with such a clever explanation from a three year old?

I sure can't.

"So mom, he DOES have red hair just like me, it's just on the inside. His blond hair is on the outside, but it's red hair on the inside. Look at my hair mom, it's blonde inside, and red on the outside. We have the same hair. Im blonde too and he has red hair like me. Because we're blothers. Do you see my blonde hair mom?? It's right here, look. And right there is his red hair. You just have to look on the inside."

Lucky Girl

Beacause I get to live here.

Baby Godzilla Lives Here

It starts peaceful enough, a little boy quietly playing Legos, creating buildings and cities. . .what a relaxing morning.

Admiring his work, telling us all about the special features he spent so long putting together.

Duh dun.

Duh dun.

Duh dun!

And in an instant we have no city and lots of tears.

Utopia can turn into the front lines in merely seconds at this house.

Visitors beware.

In The Dog House

Uncle Freddy, that is. For stealing our kid's affection. He wants nothing to do with us anymore.

It's hard to compete with his Lego skills, I'll admit. . .

Do you know who's playing soccer tomorrow?

Who Papa?

Liverpool! We can watch it together on TV.

I don't like Liverpool, Papa. I like Chelsea best, just like Uncle Freddy.

But I like Liverpool, so you should watch it with me.

But I love Uncle Freddy better, so I can't. We like Chelsea.

Maybe you should move to California and live with Freddy.

Yes!! I want to move to California and live with him!!

Mom, I like you a little. And I like Papa a little. And I like the baby a little. But I like Freddy best.

To Be Three

The. Coolest. Kid. Ever.

Seen And Heard Part II

Mom, Legos are really fun, but they're not as fun as Untle Freddy.

I really want to be a Power Ranger. I need a machine to zoom me into the TV so I can do that.

That'a a great picture, you're really good at coloring. I know mom, I'm very talented at art. And all the sports too, like golf.

My lip on the top, its the same as my lip on the bottom. Did you know that's called a resemblance?

When people get old they die, right mom? And Grandma is not old, so she can't die. Is that a deal?

Do you need to go to go potty? You look like you do. No mom, I don't, I really don't have to pee. You know what? I have a big poop in there, but no pee. It's a really big poop in there.

When I was 5, Max and me went to his birthday party and ate all the cake. I know its nobodys birthday today, but can we have a birthday party anyway? Max and I will make the presents and you make the cake with the baby. OK?

Papa, do you want to go in the garage with me and we can make the greatest invention ever??

First Day Of School

Who is this big guy and what did he do with my munchkin?!

Mmmm Red Vines

It's hard to tell, but he has a death grip on the red vine he is holding and there is panic in his eyes that I might decide to take that stick of euphoria away. If only I could get that excited about something so simple!