Chest Hair

Karson has his chest sticking out and his body in a contorted position.
Me: What are you doing, Karson?
Karson: I am watching and waiting for my chest hair to grow.


After posting this on Facebook my friend writes
 If my husband stuck his head out, would his hair grow back?

Be Careful Asking Questions Around Karson

At church today the minister has all the children up front for the Children's Service. She asks the kids what "alleeluja" means. Karson responds "It is what you say when you strike gold." She responds "I think you are thinking of Eureka!" He then asks her "What do eggs have to do with Christ anyway?" This is followed by "And what is the bunny stuff all about?" I just don't get that!" Of course by now the entire congregation is cracking up.

Traditions in the US of A

I will confess I am a terrible friend as well as a wife. But let no one say I don't know how to put together a good joke.

 Our friends from the Chech Republic were going to say goodbye to Dave as they wouldl be leaving tomorrow. I told them that it was a tradition in the United States that when you say goodbye you give the person a big hug and then you kick them in the ass (literally) Further, if you don't do this they will feel horrible because it meant that your guests did not have a good time and will not come back.

So Dave comes downstairs and Marie says, "Dave we will not see you in the morning so I must say good-bye now." So Marie walks up to Dave, she hugs him and then kicks him in the butt. Dave, good-natured that he is looks a little confused but laughs. Then Petr walks up to Dave gives him a big hug and kicks him in the ass too. Of course by now I am laughing so hard that they all know that something has happened that I am responsible for. I have to tell you we all almost wet our pants laughing at the new American tradition that has been started at our house.

Beets

In preparation for our upcoming trip to Scotland I have been working on our family trees through Ancestry.com Recently we have found we are related to many Kings and Queens from France, England, the Netherlands, etc. Needless to say this has provoked many interesting conversations around our house.
Karson: Beets? Beets? You know I don't like beets.
Me: You are going to have to try them. They will taste great.
Karson: I know what happened to the kings in our family
Me: What
Karson: Their mothers fed them beets
Me: Eating beets has never killed anyone
Karson: Want to make a bet? I bet if you analyzed their stomach contents you would find beets.
Me: Why Do you think that?
Karson: Anything can be hidden in beets
(Not to be outdone) Kullen: Yeah the color hides everything
Karson: I am sure they were poisoned with beets
Me: Doubtful. Who would want to poison them?
Karson: THeir mothers
Me: WHATTTTTTTTT? No mothers would poison their children.
Karson: Oh yes they would
Me: COme on Karson. You are letting your imagination run away with you
Why would a mother do that?
Karson: Because they want the power.
Me: What?
Karson: Women didn't have power. And they wanted it. It's been that way through history. Mothers always want to find a way to control their children. You can't deny it can you?! And beets were the way to power.
Me: You will still be eating your beets.
Karson: Drats. I thought this little history lesson would change my history with beets.
Me: No way, dude.

Break Time

I don't know about you but for me helping my kids with their homework is about to do me in. Really...you don't know the answer even though you just told it to me not 10 seconds ago? Really....you don't get that the problem you just did was like the 50 before it only with different numbers? Needless to say, I never had a calling to teach, so why, I ask myself during the long arduous homework marathon, am I the one always sitting here helping with the homework?  Finally, I think I have an answer to the question. I have concluded that homework is a test from God. She figures if you can work for ten minutes with your own little darling, the one you gained 50 pounds carrying and the one you have given up any hope of finding even a smidgen of privacy from; if you can do math without choking them at minute seven then you can probably fit in with just about anyone who you might bump into around heaven. Unfortunately, I have been failing the test lately. I can only hope God in her infinite wisdom gives you a 2000 out of 3000 chance to prove yourself. Still, as it stands now, after five children, the odds are against me.

Last week while helping KU with his homework I began to feel my knees start shaking at minute three, a full-blown headache arrived by minute four and by minute five I began to wonder if a glass of wine might help even if it was at 3:30 p.m. Then, right before my body began to slide under the table my usually very un-astute eight- year-old son looked at me and said, "Mom you look like you need a break. I find that they really help release the tension. Why don't you go and take one now and I will call you back in five minutes or when I need your help, whatever comes first."

And it was in that moment that I realized that God really was looking out for me but more importantly she was looking out for him. God knows when we need a break and sends others to tell us. Sometimes we have to look to find them and other times they are standing right before us. Either way, sometimes we just need to be reminded to treat ourselves and the ones we love with kindness and compassion by taking a break from those things that are doing us in for the moment or over time. Big break or little one it really doesn't matter just as long as you allow yourself the gift of breaking in life to attend to your own needs.

Betty Davis Eyes

The things your kids share with you in the car.

KA: I think it would be awesome to be able to read someone's mind.

Me: Why is that

KA: Because you could do all sorts of wonderful things for them like buy them the puppy they have always wanted.

Me: KA, you are the one who wants a puppy

KA: I'm just saying...you know there would be one time when it wouldn't be so good to know what someone is thinking.

Me: When would that be?

KA: When they are sitting on the toilet going to the bathroom. I mean the things that go through your mind when you are on the toilet...well they are just not things you want others to know

Me: Is that why you spend 30 minutes at a time in the bathroom?

KA: Might be

Two minutes later

KA just earned a reward of new Pokemon cards. As he opens the pack "Ah, the sweet smell of goodness and evil all wrapped up in one."

Scotch

From KA: What do you mean the Scottish don't speak Scottish. The English speak ENglish. The French speak French. Koreans speak Korean. How come the Scottish don't speak Scotch? 

Me: Scotch is a drink, honey. 

KA: Well I guess I'll have to take up drinking so I can understand them."

Dittites

Dave to our 6 yo daughter: "KE, who is our President?"
KE : "O'rock Obama."


KA to tutor " When my mom and Ky talk there are a lot of exclamation points and very few periods."

THE "FOR YOUR OWN GOOD" LIST

I don't know about you but as a mom there seems to be some sort of invisible list that hangs over my head, flapping in the breeze to remind me of its presence. THE LIST consists of all the things my kids must do at least once so that I can check off one more box that assures me that I AM A GOOD MOM. Trying new food. The latest, brocolli....check. Yearly pictures at Sears...oops missed that one...but now that I am aware of that fact by next Tuesday it will be done...semi-check. Playing the piano...okay not ready for Carnegie Hall but does know where middle C is located...check. Now Dave is the sports minded one in our family but because two of our three children get crazed if something as small as an ant touches them trying to knock out the numerous athletic activies...well, its a challenge. If I had my druthers I would just scratch that whole section off THE LIST as several family members consider high quality endurance sports akin to laying on the couch and dipping ruffled potato chips into dip. (the endurance part comes when you have to turn the chip around and dip again being careful not to double-dip) But I have a fear that scratch outs might just not get you into heaven so I persist in introducing my kids to new sports knowing in my heart of hearts that is what all GOOD moms do. This is what lead us to the Gateway Ice Skating rink yesterday afternoon where the kids attempted ice skating for the first time.

 I will admit that sometimes it seems as though it takes a while for my kids to get comfortable with new activities. First we have to check out each and every toilet in the entire facility. If the seat is comfortable then my kids might give it a try. If not, we are OUTTA there.

Next comes that vending machines. If they have anything gluten free and casesin free then no matter what comes next the day will be considered a success.

Finally, throw in a 16 yo cashier who is making minimum wage but will answer every one of the 20,000 questions through at them about the history of the sport, the equipment used and the rules of the sport, then participation is a definite maybe. Better yet, if the cashier can quote numerous safety statstics; then its a go. Yes, even contemplating sports can be an exhausting endeavor.

So after spending 1/2 hour tying and re-typing the skates, using the bathroom...again... and learning to walk on blades the time had come for the kids to make their way onto the ice. If, as the old adage goes, you can smell fear; then the fumes around our family was the pungent odor that follows you about three hours after eating grandma's chili. You just couldn't shake it. Feet started going every which way but forward and the sound of buttoms slapping the ice...HARD... reverberated throughout the arena. To top it off, I pulled my back out trying to hold up one child while falling down with another. Mom was done and judging from the little faces surrounding me, the vending machine owner was about to become a very rich man.

Kullen put a brave face on and after once around decided taking his hands off the railing was more to his liking. Kellis whined until her daddy escorted her like the princess she is around the rink. But I knew all was lost in regards to Karson when he spent 1/2 hour going 1/2 around the rink with his toes turned in towards the wood paneling the entire time. Never have a seen a child so happy as when he took his blades off the ice. After exiting the rink he looked up at me and said, "Well, those were absolutely the worst minutes I have ever spent in my entire life!" And needless to say,  his assessment didn't get any better except until Dave bought hot chocolate.

Later, on the way home, Karson talked about the experience. His take? "Well, I am glad that is over. I did it once, it's a no go and thank goodness I will never have to do that again. Now, mom, what else can we cross of your list of things I have to do?"

"What list?"

"You know, the one that you have that makes me try everything for my own good even though we both know I am going to hate it. So really, this list is really about you. Why don't we just leave it at that!"

And with that he was done. But I'm not. I want to know how he knew about THE LIST?

...And The Ending Never Comes

The other day a friend on FB talked about reading with her son and how all his questions made her want to stab herself in the eye. I totally get that because there is nothing worse than someone who:
A. Fancies themselves an editor and wants to re-write the story in Vulcan and of course not knowing a word of Vulcan decides you must
B. Doesn't understand Rule # 215 of reading which is one person reads at a fairly rapid clip while adding appropriate silly voices while the other person shuts-up, sits still and just LISTENS.
Now obviously, if you know my son, you know he does not understand rule #215 or any of the 214 Reading Rules that come before it. Witness a conversation that we once had several years ago as I began to read Goldilocks and The Three Bears.


Me: "Once upon a time there were three bears."
KA: "How do you know there were three bears, Mommy?"
Me: " Because that story is named Goldilocks and the THREE Bears. 
KA: "What about if two other bears were lost in the forest so there were really five bears?" 
Me: "Son, it's THREE bears. It's not the eight bears or the five bears. It's the THREE bears.
KA:"Yeah, you are probably right. Bears often have twins but not three cubs." 
"Great," I think to myself. Can we finish now? 
Me: "Once upon a time there was a Poppa bear, a Momma bear and a wee little bear."
KA: "Mom, that cannot be right. Male bears do not stay with the female bears and their cubs."
Me: "Well, in this story it did, son."
KA: "Well, it is not accurate then." 
Me: "Son, it is a FAIRY TALE. It is not suppose to be accurate."
KA: "Why not? Don't the Fairies speak English?"
Me: "Honey, fairy tales are fun stories they don't have to have really happened."
KA: 'So they are lies? Why would they tell kids lies?"
Me: "Because Walt Disney wanted to build a theme park to make them happy."
KA: "That sounds reasonable."
Me: "Can we get back to the story now?"
KA: "Sure mommy."
Me: "Okay so there was the Pappa bear, the Momma bear and the Baby bear."
KA: "But Mom..."
Me: "Okay,  for the sake of clarity," I hissed, "The Poppa Bear joined the Million Man March which taught him that to be a real man he needed to stay with and help provide for his young."
KA: "Mom?"
Me: "WHAT????????????"
KA: "Mom this is a boring book. May I go to bed now?"


Seriously, I think Robin and I need to "read" sign language books to our kids.