Tag Archives: funny

Don’t smile… don’t do it!

Feb 17, 2010 027

This afternoon Paige was running around in circles, giggling, with her snow hat and her slightly too big 2T clothes {seriously, when did she get so big?? I learned with Fynn to skip the 24 month size, so we jumped from 18months to 2T… holy mama in shock!) her eyes danced as her feet stumbled…

She was hysterical. Until I broke out the camera and asked her to smile.

Thank goodness I have kids pulling shenanigans right and left, making me smile when I just don’t want to {enter feet stomping and arms crossing…} Laugh when I want to cry. Laugh when I want to pull my hair out and jump up and down over spilled milk. Just laugh. And smile. And giggle.

They tempt me. They tease me. They sit there with their silliness and their 3 year old and 18 month old antics, taunting…

Don’t smile Mommy, don’t do it!!!!

But I always do.

My pint sized blessings… smelling of white grape juice, covered in crumbs and dripping with love.

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Cocoa shenanigans

I found him like this…

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…then put the cocoa on the counter and ran to the bathroom for a moment.

I came back and found this…

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…yes, two children taking turns licking hot cocoa mix {and marshmallows} off of the floor.

Notice the pizza thrown aside by Paige to partake in the fun, and the freshly bathed kids…

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And yes, I keep my camera in the kitchen for just such an occasion.

When I’m laughing too hard to scold for a few minutes…

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Snowmen on the brain

He’s got snowmen on the brain
the fuzzy, cuddly, decorated with blueberries sort of snowman…
three year old creativity at it’s finest!

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A friendly reminder

Whether on a finger or a brush

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Even though it’s non toxic

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Do not ever eat finger paint

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** Fynn did not consume finger paint, only felt deep sympathy for his sister who put at least a tablespoon of green and purple paint in her mouth. Twice.

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It would hurt not to blog this

This afternoon seemed never ending. And not in a good way. We made it home, woke up the kids from their car naps, and all you know what broke loose.

So by 5pm we were counting down until bedtime. We told the kids to run around – like usual – to get out all their energy. They did. And then Fynn ran into the edge of an end table with his forehead, which resulted in a purple bandaide smack dab in between his eyes and lots of tears.

He kept pointing to the end table saying it was “very sad.” And it made him “very sad.” And we were all “very sad.”
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Paige was also “very sad” and very curious.
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She was sympathetic, and showed us on herself with the lense cap where Fynn got hurt.
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But our brave little boy decided that what would make him feel better was if we took pictures of everyone. So he instructed first to take a picture of Mommy & Paige {Mom and Paige, rather, but I refuse to acknowledge that he’s now calling me Mom instead of Mommy half the time…}
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Then one of Fynn and Daddy
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but after that one, I told him we had to take another one where Daddy didn’t look like such a dork {I swear I’m a nice wife, we were all just so punchy tonight…} Then Lucas started saying something about someone sleeping on the couch tonight in between his hysterical laughter
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Through this Paige started feeling left out and desperately wanted to read a certain book. A book that no one else particularly enjoys.
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Finally, we gave in.
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She pointed to the first picture, and made a thoughtful “mmm” noise {which is how she asks what something is}. It was a little boy. With a bad haircut. So I told her “that’s a little boy with an awful haircut.” {again, I’m really a nice person, just punchy…}

Do you know what she did????

She then pointed to her brother!!! Which led to Lucas and myself laughing for about ten minutes with tears streaming down our faces, choking for breath. Because, honestly? Fynn’s haircut right now is the worst one he’s ever had. And we cut it three times in a matter of two days to try and make it better. It did not work.

Oh the honesty that comes from babes!

After we composed ourselves it was time to read Happy Birthday Moon, which is a lovely book. But Lucas read one of the lines, and I commented on the gusto with which it was read, and it was all over. The kids had no idea why daddy had such a hard time finishing the book, or why mommy needed a tissue to dab her eyes with for an hour, literally…

It was a trying afternoon, which thankfully ended in laughter instead of a trip to the ER since the fleshwound wasn’t too deep… we’re so happy that he caught himself on his forehead rather than, say, an eye ball. And we love our kids, so very much.

But seriously, I have not laughed so hard in such a long time. My cheeks still hurt. Right now even the thought of the little boy with the big purple bandaide, and bad hair cut,  is cracking me up. I’m not a horrible mother, or wife, just a punchy mama in need of a hot bath and big cup of chai.

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ALWAYS check your laundry

Don’t let this happen to you.

As I opened the washing machine to move a load of the kids laundry to the dryer, something seemed off. All the clothes looked not quite clean.

I started lifting the wet clothes only to find clumps of wet paper. After calling my mother (who else would you call??) I decided to shake out the clothes, and then put them in the dryer – letting the lint trap (checked often) do it’s job. As I was emptying the clothes of whatever had gotten thrown into the hamper (Paige has a slight obsession with putting things into the clothes hamper, which I should have remembered as I hastily dumped the clothes into the washer…) I realized what had gotten thrown in. A board book. A counting board book that Paige loved. I say loved, because it’s in bits and pieces. All. Over. The. Place.

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The dryer is almost done its cycle, and the lint trap has definitely done it’s job, and the clothes are looking better. I’ve checked on the lint trap every five minutes, and every five minutes it’s FULL of the book. Sad, sad book. Always check your laundry for extras. Always!

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Messy

I’m a  firm believer that the messier a kid gets, the more fun he/she has. After all, I was blessed with a son, and no matter what anyone says I also believe that some boys get messier than a lot of girls. There are exceptions of course; my daughter, for example, was born with one foot in a pile of dirt and the other in a heap of sand and rocks.

All that being said, there are some messy things that I cringe at. Like yogurt. I don’t know if it’s how it gets everywhere when you have two little ones who insist in feeding it to themselves, or the smell, or even the texture. I have a thing about certain foods. I think that’s actually the first time I’ve admitted that (maybe because if I admit it, that means I kind of know where Fynn gets his food issues… but I don’t even what to go there!) But I digress.

So – the fact that my kids absolutely whole heartedly adore yogurt is kind of tough for me to take at times. But when I say they love yogurt, I truly mean they love yogurt. When Fynn was a baby and just starting on solids he wasn’t a huge fan. Until we tried the glorious Yobaby yogurt. The kid should have been in a commercial for the stuff. I have never in my life seen a baby get so excited about yogurt! But then I met my daughter Paige, who is almost exactly the same.

They’re so different in so many ways, but similar at the same time.

Most days we hold off on eating the blissful goodness until dinner time. But sometimes, I get asked for yogurt earlier on in the day. Most days I’ll oblige, since I think yogurt is one of the healthier things that at least Fynn puts into his growing body.

But today, man… today I got asked for yogurt the second Lucas left for work. And we had to be at the pediatrician for an appointment in a little while. But they begged, and neither of them ate much for breakfast…

So now, they’re smelling like that unique post yogurt fest smell, and we’re off to the pediatrician’s. Because sometimes life’s messes are too fun to be put off for another time.

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