Switching gears

I have not posted in over a year. I will blame life. Anyway, as  of today I am renewing my commitment to myself to write it out, communicate with the internets and blog once more. However, I have been quite busy over the last year taking business classes, apprenticing, reading and committing to opening a craft brewery. Yes. A CRAFT BREWERY. And now the blog will turn to encompass the journey of this venture. More to come and cheers, people!

Out there is a Giant

 

Out there is a Giant



 

 

Out there is a Giant.
Out in the back yard,
buried right up to his head!
His hair is sticking up all around,
it looks like a bunch of trees fallen down.
Do you see him buried out there in the ground?
Is it really a Giant?
Was it always there...
or did he suddenly just show up?
Do you think he is hungry? What does he eat?
I really hope not us!
Can he hear the dog barking?
Dad can and he's hollering:
"Pipe that dog down!"
It's a good thing the Giant's got dirt in his ears,
I guess you can't hear dogs bark underground.
I hope we can keep him,
I hope that he likes us,
Hey, I know! Let's name him Steve!
You think there's no Giant out there underground?
Well, I do. I BELIEVE.

 



lessons in civics and flirting

We had a local election today. There was a special vote for the elementary schools, where Ms. E  could decide whether to have a BBQ or a pizza party at the end of school. Very cute lesson in civics and she took it very much to heart and voted with extreme seriousness.
 Z was trying to pick up the clerk attending the booth:
"I go to preschool, where do you go? Do you like Transformers? Would you like to see my transformers sometime?"
Is it strange that a newly minted 5 year old would flirt with the voting booth attendant?
Not in our world.
The first time I witnessed him flirt was last November, when my parents were visiting and we stopped at a restaurant. We were seated by a bubbly, blonde waitress who cooed at the boy and gave us our menus. I looked at my son. He had a funny expression on his face and he said to me, "I think I love that lady."
when she came back, before she could ask anything, Z leans in towards her and said, in his most fancy  voice, "So...do you like macaroni and cheese?... I like macaroni and cheese." and then,         "Do  you like Power Rangers? because I do. I like the Red Ranger." He was batting his eyes and tilting his head and giving her THE SMILE. The one usually reserved for whoever is about to give him a present.
"Oh! aren't you so cute!" Gushed the waitress. My baby brother loves Power Rangers too! What a cute little guy you are!!"
Right there was the end of that romance. Nobody calls Z cute. And nobody calls Z little. Nobody.

Anyway, I couldn't vote because I am not a citizen and E had some questions for me.
"How much of me is Canadian and how much is American?" she asked.
"Half of each." I reply.
"I think I am actually 3/4 American." She said, "Because I don't say "ZED" I say "ZEEEE"."
'Well, you are half American because half of your family comes from the States and half from Canada."
"What is "The States"?"
"It's another way of saying America. It's like a nick name."
And then she stops and looks at me and says: "Don't you nick name America!"
The guy walking out in front of us guffawed out loud.




 

 Does anyone else go to put down the toilet seat and hear it literally crack with the dry pee glue that has crystallized since the time your 4 year old son has used the can, and, unable to control the direction of that initial blast has basted the entire back of the toilet with it?
Just wondering.

It is night time and Mr. Z pipes up: I have to go poop. He takes his time. Since I am farting around on the internets, I suddenly realize that over 10 min has passed and he is still "pooping"
"Zac..what is going on in there?"
"Oh, nothing, I'm done." And he scoots back to bed.
I go investigate.
There is toothpaste everywhere. all over the counter, the mirror, the floor and the sink. there is a soaking, dripping towel on the counter and the drawer is full of water. Full.
"Zac, what is all this?"
"I had to was off my Bakugon Robot. He was all toothpasty."
"Why was he like that?'
"Because I was experimenting."
"And the towel, and the mirror and the floor?"
"Experimenting."
"And the drawer full of water?"
"Oh! That is my robot's swimming pool."
"You need to come in here and clean it up."
"Ok. But can you help me? It is very messy. That is because I ran away."




Mr.Z comes up to me an asks to get his nails painted. "I want blue nail paint!"
"We have no blue, I remember you dumped out the blue on the bathroom floor one day."
"Oh yeah, that is why we don't have it. Because YOU took it away."
"Why did I take it away?"
"Because I dumped it out on the floor....But you STILL took it away."
"Yup."
....
"So, can I have my nails painted? It was a long time that I dumped it out..."
"Ok."
"Yay! I want blue!"
"We have no blue, remember?"
 "Golden! I want golden nail paint!"
"We also have sparkly..."
"UGH! MUM! Sparkly is for girls! I don't LIKE girl things! Golden nay-als! Da deh da deh! Super fingers!"

...................................................................................................................................................................

Theology with a 6 year old:

"Mum, I was talking with my friend today and she said you need to get bath-tized so that you don't go to bad heaven.
So it is a good thing that I take  a lot of baths, I sure don't want to go to bad heaven."

"Mum, I need to stop and pray for a minute."
"Ok, who are you praying to?"
"God, Mum."
"Who do you think God is?"
"I think God is the Universe, maybe. I just want to say hi."
She whispers something to the sky.
"Ok! I'm done! Do you think God likes jokes?"
"Who doesn't like jokes?"
"Good."
"Do I get to hear the joke?"
"NO! It's for GOD!"
....................................................................................................................................................

Miss. E does a lot of singing. She sings more than she talks, which sounds cute, but is actually mind-crackingly intolerable.  We will be at the dinner table and ask about her day or something and she might begin to speak the answer, then she catches herself,
"Oh, wait a minute...1, 2, 3, 4, clap clap clap clap, ooooooooooooooooh! Well, you see Mum! Oh ya! Well you see Dad! Oh ya! Well,  you want to know how my day goes! clap clap clap, Well it goes like this: tsss, tsss t tsss..." Then she will be dissatisfied with her song and have to start over. And if our attention falters during her performance she will become very annoyed. Also, we are not allowed to join in, and no one else gets to sing. All in all it is highly unfair.

Seat belt

Funny story:

Not so long ago, the kids thought it was very funny to unbuckle themselves in the car while we were driving. They wouldn't listen to my pleas for safety. What was I to do? I told them that it was against the law to ride in the car with no buckle. Well, I actually told then that the police would take them to jail if they kept unbuckling themselves. ("against the law" holds no real meaning for them, but "Going to jail" is grown-up time out, so they get that.)
That seemed to solve it.
Good.
One day we were out on a drive and Dad started to pull out of a parking space while Zac was still buckling himself.
Oh my, the panic that ensued!
Dennis looked at me and asked, "Why is Z hyperventilating about being taken to jail because he is not buckled?"
"Hmmmm?" I replied, then, "Well... I had no other options!"
"Way to instill fear of authority figures, Munday. Nice to know they are growing up with a healthy relationship towards the police."
"They get buckled now though, so that's good, right?"

I am a terrible mother.

whining

Some things should just not be done. For example: Being a whining adult. That is totally unbearable. I mean, where do you get off whining about things! Suck it up ! Put on your big girl pants!

That is what I usually proclaim, anyway. I can get quite haughty about it too. (which is actually another undesirable trait, but whose counting.)

So it was much to my chagrin that as I was musing around last night, in one of those moods where I reflect upon the ways in which I act like a moron, that I recalled the last PTA meeting I was at.

I had volunteered to help with the Thanksgiving Parade, where the school participates in the town parade. No one wanted to do it. I thought, "No big deal, super easy..." and then realized that it was actually going to be a ton of organizing and work. (Not like that should have been a surprise, I had done the same thing last year...)So me and my co-chair got busy. Anyway, time went on...not a lot of parent volunteered...kids who showed up to the workshops were so excited that they couldn't focus...I end up having to re-do everything that was made at the workshops so they wouldn't fall apart...I stayed up way too late too many nights making snowflakes and sewing Christmas tree costumes, synching the carols we recorded, fortifying garbage bag snow men, we temporarily misplace our attendance sheet and people panicked...blah blah blah, in other words, it was not a piece of cake, more like weevily  hard tack. BUT once it was done and we were at the parade, and everyone was so happy and people actually showed up to be in it, the judges came along and gave us 1st place for youth. Oh! first place, you say? How vindicating! Actually maybe it wasn't such a pain in the ass after all... Maybe I love making a parade happen...(Amazing what someone telling you that you won and letting you carry a banner will do...)

Yet still, when it came time to brief the PTA about it at the meeting, I opened my mouth and whiiiiined. I remember saying something about the ratio of work by me vs. participation by others being poor, I remember actually saying something along the lines of: "I got better things to do that bust my ass for some PTA thing that no one wants to participate in." I remember some lady across from me raised a single eyebrow and look down at the phone in her lap, where she was no doubt tweeting, "SOMEbody forgot her big girl pants today! And now I have to listen to this bloody whiner!" (What? Hey! those are MY lines!)

So, note to self: When you sign yourself up for something like the PTA, you should already know that you will be avalanched by some kind of ridiculously time consuming task that never ends. Everyone at that table was doing something or other that was claiming their precious free time. And at some point they probably all felt like they were putting in more effort than they were going to receive in rewards. For crying out loud, that's life.

I am making it an early resolution: Say NO to whining.

When my kids whine at me, I just look at them and say, "Excuse me? I don't recognize that as language, please try again." 

And I am asking all of you to do that for me.  OKaaaaaay? Pluuuuueeeeeeease?

Though if you don't I can always say, "Well, no one made me stop, so it's not my fauuuuuuult!"

random snippetts

Z: I'm never going to sleep again!
Me: Remember, the only way you can get bigger and stronger is if you sleep. If you choose not to sleep, you are choosing not to grow. If you want to be Shrimpy McShorty pants, that's up to you.
Z: I am not SHORT! I am not LITTLE!
Me: Your choice makes it so.
Z: ....What?
Me: Goodnight buddy.
Z: ....Your choice makes it so?...What does that mean?
Me: "You have the power." 
Z: "I have the POWER? What does that MEAN?!"
Me: "Go to sleep and you will find out."
Z: "Well... ok, I'll do it!"




After listening to the boy shriek at the girl (again) for "getting in on HIS side of the car." Exasperated Mum announces: "OK! Lookit! Now you are giving ME your bad mood! Does anyone like it when Mum is in a bad mood!?"
Wide eyed head shakes , "NO!"
"What gives Mum a bad mood?"
"When we don't behaving." Says The Boy.
Girl : Mum. it's not fair to us if you are in a bad mood. Because that makes US be in a bad mood.
Boy: Yeah, not nice for YOU Mum!
Me: Terrific! Now we are in a bad mood vortex. Let's all stay grumpy forever starting now.
"NO!" Giggles.
( I love it when it is that easy. Sometimes I have to resort to singing Opera style.) When I really REALLY want to snap all over their squabbling little screech-faces, if I, instead of yelling, sing my message like her:





Then there is no way they can maintain their fight. My handsome husband does it too. He is even better at it than I am.
We are a noisy, noisy people.


Z: I think If I electrocute butterflies, they will turn into Gremlins.

E: I like throwing frisbies into the wind. it's like playing catch with THE GOD


What is it about the need to poop JUST as we are leaving the house to get the boy to school? It is like some kind pf imbedded reflex.  Just as we are putting on our shoes, and with no time to spare he declares: OOPS! I need to POOP!
after a while..."Hey, buddy, finish pooping. We have to go!"
He responds, shocked, "How do you know I am pooping?  If I flush the toilet while I poop, my bum gets cleaned by flush water and I don't have to wipe.
Why do I poop? If I push really hard when I poop, will it come out my eyes? I feel it in my eyes."
"If I was in the desert, could I eat my poop?" ...


"You are going to have a birthday soon, Z! What would you like to do for your birthday?"
"Play around...play outside....you know, and other stuff that I want to do."
"Who do you want to invite?"
"Santa Clause....not the Easter Bunny....OH! but the Tooth Fairy!"
E: "The tooth fairy might want tooth cake."
Z: Maybe not the Tooth Fairy then. But God can come. And Thor and Spiderman. And that's all!

Attention Children:
Coat hangers are NOT boomerangs!
Pot lids are NOT to be used as flying saucers or shields!
The dog is NOT a horse and CANNOT be ridden!
We play piano with our fingers. NOT our feet or heads!
And those little white things with strings attached in Mum's bathroom cabinet? Those are NOT earplugs. And please stop whizzing them around your head by the string and releasing them.
Z: Then what are they for?
E: They are for catching Mum's eggs
Z: WHAT? Mum is not a chicken! Or a Duck!
E: She still has eggs.
Z: Mum is weird.