Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I tricked you.
This post is about Reilly the Red!
Yesterday was class picture day. Reilly the Red wore a beautiful peasant style blouse that went over her jeans, to about mid-thigh.
As she was getting dressed, she asked me if she had to wear pants.
"Yes. You have to wear pants."
"EEE-Unhhhhhhhh" was Eeyore's response.
She wore her jeans, and off she went.
At the dinner table confessional, Reilly the Red said that she took her pants off, because she asked her teacher if she could, and her teacher said yes.
Needless to say, Reilly the Red had a rough evening.
She wasn't allowed to stay up and watch American Idol, since she disrespected her mother, disobeyed her mother, and manipulated her poor teacher.
Lucky for Reilly the Red, the leader of the free world decided to postpone American Idol for a day. So she gets another chance.
This morning, as she boarded the school bus, I hollered:
"KEEP YOUR PANTS ON TODAY!"
The other parent at the bus stop said, "Isn't she only SIX?"
"And you're having that problem ALREADY?"
"YES, I AM! YES, I AM!"
He ran across the street to get away from me, for fear of the plague I might bring upon his house.
I love my children.
I love my children.
I love my children.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
This was Captain Jake Sparrow's prayer for me today:
To Feel Better.
For the record, I've been able to digest melons quite normally. Have no idea what he was talking about, as usual, but I was touched that he thought to pray for me and my melon wantonness.
I did NOT steal my daughter's What Would Jesus NOT Do necklace NOR her handmade macaroni beads.
I did NOT wear my church Bell Choir shirt to such an un-Christian, frivolous drunk-fest, simply because it was NOT the only purple shirt I did NOT own.
At said UNattended party, I was NOT denied a prize for best costume because the host did NOT think I was UN-obnoxious.
I did NOT imbibe in the drinking of FAR TOO FEW many Hurricanes.
I was NOT denied a prize for NOT INCORRECTLY answering the most Mardi Gras trivia questions, because the host did NOT think I was NOT competitive enough.
I did NOT throw a fit.
I did NOT yell.
I did NOT throw my stupid green Mardi Gras coins at another guest who was NOT a complete stranger to me.
I did NOT pout.
I did NOT shout.
I did NOT scream "DENIED" at the top of my lungs.
No way, Jose.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Marshal Deadwood came to breakfast this week.
I was expecting Captain Jake Sparrow.
Imagine my surprise.
Imagine his teacher's surprise.
He wore the get-up to school.
Allegedly, he arrested the principal for spending too much time on Facebook.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
This morning, Captain Jake Sparrow was illicitly watching me get dressed.
He asked me, "Mommy? Why do you wear brawls?"
I said, "Bras?"
He said, "Yeah, brawls. They look funny. Why do you wear them?"
I said, "All ladies wear them."
He said, "Are they for your boobies?"
I said, "Yes, Jake, they are for my booobies."
He said, "But I have boobies. Why don't I wear brawls?"
I said, "Ummmmm. You don't have the same kind of boobies. Boys don't wear bras."
He said, "Good. Cuz I don't like them."
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
We were having a lovely discussion with the children yesterday. Yes, they were MY children.
I mentioned that Reilly the Red doesn't have school next Monday, for Presidents' Day.
Captain Jake Sparrow wanted to know if 'he' had to go to school that day.
I thought for a minute, and then I said, "No Jake, you can stay home, and maybe we can do a family activity, just the four of us.
From the backseat, I heard a low, loud groan. I wasn't sure if it was human, or an engine malfunction.
And then it got louder.
I realized it was Reilly the Red's Eeyore impression - "EEEN - Unnnnnnh"
Which means, "Mom. I am seriously pissed off."
I asked her what was wrong.
She said, "WHY does Jake have to be off from school just because I'M off?"
I asked what the problem was?
Reilly the Red: "BECAUSE!!! It's my ONE day AWAY from HIM!"
So eloquently put, beautiful linguist daughter of mine.
So eloquently put.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Oh how I wish this episode were a lamentation on the ancient fork in the road conundrum.
Or a treatise on kitchen utensils discovered from an archealogical dig.
But alas, 'tis not.
The sins of the father (and the mother)....
Guess what Captain Jake Sparrow's word of the week is?
It is four letters.
It starts with an 'F'.
And it ends with a 'K'.
And it is most definitely NOT the word F-O-R-K.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
That's what he calls "hooky".
He attempted to negotiate by saying, "If you let me play cookie, I will clean my room."
Since it's just too cold outside, we have accepted his offer, without offering a counter.
Father’s Day, 2006.
It started out like any other lazy Sunday.
After church, the kids took a nap.
Billy wasn’t feeling well, so he took a nap as well.
I had grandiose plans for my husband. In addition to wrapping the requisite Father’s Day gift of fishing shirts, I had purchased some awesomely thick porterhouse steaks for dinner. Then I started the arduous task of baking Billy’s favorite dessert from scratch: coconut cream pie with mile-high meringue.
Jake the eighteen-month old Snake had other plans for me, however. While I was at the stove, mixing the coconut custard for the pie, Jake had crawled up onto the middle of the kitchen table. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him. He had a saltshaker in one hand and a peppershaker in the other. And he was shaking both hands like mad. After I dropped the hand mixer on the floor and screamed, “JAKE!” I smacked him on his hands and put him in his crib. After he cried for a solid fifteen minutes, I went into his room, told him that neither crawling onto the kitchen table nor dumping out the salt and pepper shakers were acceptable behaviors, and let him out of his crib.
Half an hour later, the pie was in the oven. I started to beat the egg whites, sugar, and Cream of Tartar into the most beautiful of meringues. And what popped into my peripheral vision? The salt and pepper-shaking monkey, once again on the middle of the kitchen table, with salt and pepper everywhere. “JAKE!” I provided him with Hand Smacking #2 of the afternoon, and off to the crib he went, bawling his eyes out. After the requisite fifteen minutes and the same “don’t climb on the table blah blah blah” speech, I let him out.
An hour later, the meringue-topped beauty of a pie was chilling comfortably in the refrigerator. The steaks were on the grill. All seemed to be going according to plan. And then I turned around.
A five-gallon bucket of dishwashing detergent was removed from its resting place under the kitchen sink and was dumped all over the kitchen floor. I screamed for the third time of the day, “JAKE!”
He came out from behind the kitchen island, and…..smacked his own hand!
At least the punishments of the day had been memorable, if not effective.
Why my little guy picked this day of all days to become a ceremonious dumper of powder-like substances remains a mystery to me.
What I do know is that the steaks were overdone.
And I don’t think my husband bought the “It’s Jake’s fault” story.
And no, I never did get a letter confirming my nomination for Wife of the Year.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
1). I have piereced ears now. I'm six. Santa said I could have them. Mom said I couldn't til I was 13. Clearly Santa has jurisdiction. Yeah Santa!
2). My teacher says she loves my funky style. I'm the kinda chick who wears Vans sneakers, capri pants, and a shark tooth necklace. No Hello Kitty backpack for me. My backpack has a skull and crossbones on it. Come on! I'm Reilly the Red for crying out loud!
3). I'm a bit of a drama queen. I know it. I accept it. And I am unwilling to change.
4). I find a few people annoying. You know who you are.
5). My favorite tv show is American Idol. I only get to watch it if my behavior is exceptional. Thankfully, it is on twice a week for six months. Whew.
6). I just started to play chimes at my church. I love it.
7). I have a go-kart. It's red. And super cool.
8). I have a crush on a boy in my class.
9). I don't like dolls.
10). I have really great friends. Lots and lots of them. And I am so blessed because they are really GOOD people. My mom and dad haven't ever said, "Yeah, you can't play with So and So....".
11). I love to negotiate. Or as my mom says, "Attempt to negotiate." I like to play chess with my mom. In my head. It's a game. She still wins all the time. But one of these days, I'll get her.
12). I am totally a Daddy's girl. Which works out really well, since there is only one girl in the family.
13). My brother is my best friend. Tell him I said that, and you die.
14). I don't like bullies. Bullying is wrong. I wish it would stop. But I think I've figured out how to make it stop in my own life.
15). Tattling is acceptable under the following conditions: someone is bleeding, someone is on fire, or someone is being bullied. Any questions?
16). I tend to boss people around a little bit. Even grown ups. I can't help it if I know what's best for you! Shouldn't I tell you, especially if you don't know?
17). I am beautiful.
18). I am an absolute joy to be around, about 99.99999% of the time.
19). I am awesome at math. But my mom thinks I should be a lawyer. Because of my excellent negotiation skills, and my awesome taste in shoes.
20). I love flip-flops! Thank goodness I live in Florida!
21). I learned how to surf this summer. It was awesome.
22). Did I mention I have an awesome, red go-kart?
23). I love all my family, but I have a special affinity for my uncles. And a have a bunch of them, so it works out great.
24). I love shrimp. And lobster. And crab legs. And oysters. For some reason, my parents keep telling me that I need to get a job if I want to eat seafood. I don't get it.
25). My mom says I was a miracle baby. I don't know, I'm just me. It's who I am.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Okay, so this Facebook thing has been going round and round and round. I did mine, but anybody who reads this blog has no interest in stories about ME, since there are three real-life pirates in my family who are far more interesting. So I decided to emulate the kids. Here's my take on what Captain Jake Sparrow might say. Reilly the Red's will follow soon.
1). I don't eat. I only snack. Cookies, crackers, fruit snacks. Anything in a wrapper. If they could figure out how to put pork chops and green beans in a wrapper, then I would eat them. I can't get this through to my mom. It's simple really. Just wrap the pork chop, and put it in the damn snack drawer. How hard can that be?
2). I don't like noise. Honestly. Fireworks scare me. But monster trucks don't.
3). Pumpkins make me angry.
4). Bed is boring.
5). I have watched the original Power Rangers movie about 1,327 times. Yesterday, which would have been the 1,328th time, it scared me. Don't know why. Just did.
6). I want to be an eyeball doctor when I grow up. Eyeballs make me laugh. A lot. Most kids say bad words or potty mouth words or tell stupid jokes about bad words or potty mouth words. I'm beyond that. Eyeball. HAHAHAHAHA. Eyeball. ROFLMEO. HAHAHA! Laughing my EYEBALL off! HAHAHAHAHA.
7). I am so darned cute, that girls want to touch me all the time. Ugh. Enough already! Stop touching me! When my Dad takes me to the Rolando Magic games, I always tell him, "Dad, I don't want THEM touching me." And then I walk in the door, and I'm a babe magnet, and there they are. Touching me. Enough already!
8). I love to play the "Guess Who I Am" game with my family. Each of us takes turns imitating a person that we know and everybody else has to guess who they are pretending to be. I'm really good at this game. Because most of the time, they are all pretending to be ME!
9). Okay, so I have a mess addiction. Big freaking deal. Get over it.
10). I am in love with my pediatrician. So madly, deeply, in love, that when I get a paper cut, I INSIST that Mom takes me to see her. She doesn't. She's mean. Which just makes me love Dr. Jill that much more. Sigh.
11). I don't tolerate bullies. Even though I'm really little. I can take those big guys. Especially when they pick on my sister. If she complains to my Dad that somebody's picking on her, I'm like, "Dad, I'll handle this." And I do. I'm awesome at it. Nobody messes with the Captain.
12). Chicks dig me.
13). I am my dad's first mate. On the boat. Born to fish, I was.
14). I like to talk about doing stuff. Like swimming for instance. Everybody else will be swimming in the pool, and I just walk around the perimeter, for hours, saying, "I'm coming in! I am!" So my parents say I'm the Big Talker. It works for me.
15). I don't like showers. I like baths.
16). I get car sick. Bad. My sister thinks I'm faking it to ride in the front seat, but really I'm not. But I might be faking it so that we can take airplane rides when we go on vacation instead of driving. Maybe.
17). I like to sit in 'the hole'. That's the left hand side of my dad's lap. My little tiny butt fits in there quite nicely. We sit in the recliner together, watching the Rolando Magic or monster trucks or American Chopper or family movies. It's MY spot.
18). I lovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvve my Mama. I tell her everyday, "Mama? You look BEEEEEYOUTEEFULL!" And she says it makes her melt. But I have never seen her melt. Not like ice melts.
19). I have no fear. I'm tough. I fall down, but I bounce right back up. It's like I have super powers. No broken bones yet. Mom doesn't get too nervous. She says we have AFLAC. I don't know what the duck has to do with it, but whatever.
20). I RULE my school. If somebody's not doing what they are supposed to be doing, I am on top of it. I have seniority. I've been there longer than the principal for crying out loud. I know my role, but I'm just 'helping' out. Especially when there is a new kid or a new teacher to 'break' in. They need to know how it goes around here, and I am the man to tell them. Problem?
21). I use big words in my sentences. Actually. Disgusting. Reedickiless. They empower me.
22). I have this weird habit of leaving the bathroom door open when I have to go. And I talk to people while I go potty. And then when they go potty, I think it's okay for them to talk to me. I mean really, if you're going to be in there for a few minutes, what's the big deal? There's no TV in there. You're all by yourself. Going potty is boring. So I think it's okay to talk to your friends while you're doing it. I really don't understand all the hullabulloo. Come on people! Broaden your horizons!
23). My sister is my best friend. Do NOT tell her I said that.
24). NOTE to SANTA: I used to like Elmo. But I'm beyond Elmo. I only like cool stuff now. Superheroes and nerf guns and capes and guitars and cap guns and swords and drums and monster trucks and football and baseball and basketball. Thomas the Train? No way dude. It's got to have horsepower and jacked up tires for me to get excited. The little plastic blue 'beep beep' just ain't gettin' it done these days. I'm a big boy now.
25). My sister has a go-kart now. And I'm pissed off and don't EVEN want to talk about it.
I was NOT born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
I do NOT have any idea who the following individuals are: Jack Ham, Jack Lambert, Mel Blount, Cliff Stoudt, Rocky Bleier, Franco Harris, Jon Stallworth, Lynn Swann, Mike Webster, LC Greenwood, Mean Joe Greene.
I have NEVER eaten a jar of Terry Bradshaw Peanut Butter in my life.
I do NOT recall stealing sips of Iron City Beer (nor Pabst Blue Ribbon) as a child.
When the Pittsburgh Steelers did NOT win their four UN-Super Bowls, my mother did NOT encourage us to bang pots and pans as loudly as we possibly could NOT.
We did NOT go to the top of a very steep cobblestone hill and roll those pots and pans down to the bottom.
No sir, we would NEVER do such a thing. Would NOT. Could NOT. Did NOT.
Last night, after the Pittsburgh Steelers did NOT win yet another awesome Super Bowl, I did NOT carry on the same pots and pans banging tradition with my children.
I did NOT allow Jake to play his drums as loudly as he wanted to in our driveway.
And we absolutely did NOT set off fireworks in the front yard.
Of course we did NOT.
That would be ILL-egal.
I am NOT stupid.