The Mighty Dodge Ram

Our whole family was at the lovely zoo otherwise known as Costco one lovely Sunday afternoon.  My husband drove because the five of us fit so much more nicely into his beast of a truck.  Dan drives a dodge ram. Dan is proud of his truck and will randomly add some awesome feature to it as he sees fit.  At times he also feels the need to add some of this awesomeness to my car.  I drive a jeep patriot, it is a mom car, there is not a lot that can be done to this car to make it cool.

Anyways, we are in the Costco parking lot looking for a parking spot when Sydney pipes in.

"Wook Dan, there is a truck just wike yours.  It's a Goat."

I look at him with a puzzled expression.  "Whaddayoumean Syd?"

"It's the same kind of truck like Dan's.  You know, it has the picture on the back of truck of the Biwwy Goat with the horns."

"The Billy Goat?  Ohhhhhhh the Billy Goat, yeah you're right.  But, that's called a Ram."

"What's a Ram?"

"It's a sheep."

"It wooks wike a goat."

"Dan"  I say "How do you feel about driving a Billy Goat."

It's Pretty Serious When the Ambulance Shows Up.

My husband and I had YaYa and Papa (my parents) babysit Syd and Sam one night last summer.  We picked them up late and headed home to get them to bed.  Sam, not one to ever miss out on anything was wide awake wondering about our evening away and Sydney continued sleeping with his neck at the awkward angle that kids are able to sleep in while in a car.  We were chatting as we drove into our neighborhood and then we saw the lights of an ambulance.
"What happened Mom?"
" I don't know Sam, hopefully nothing big."
"Well can we go ask them."
"No, you can get in trouble for bugging the ambulance people."
"Will they take us to jail?"
"Maybe."
"Well can we walk down the street and try to look."
"Probably not."
But, truthfully, who doesn't want to know why there is an ambulance at their neighbor's house? We parked the car in the garage, tossed the still sleeping Sydney in bed and walked back outside.  "Come on Sam, let's walk down the sidewalk a bit."
We walked a ways down the sidewalk to see what we could see, which wasn't much and then we just stood there waiting for some sort of action.
"I wonder what happened?" I asked, thinking out loud.
"I don't know, maybe they got the germinal cancer." Sam answered.
I looked down at my innocent Sam and wondered where the hell she had heard of terminal or germinal cancer.
"I don't know Sam, I hope not."

I wondered what her little brain envisioned germinal cancer to be and then we headed back home.

All Singing Has Been Banned!

Each summer, my family spends a beautiful weekend at my father-in-law's fantastic lake cabin for a family reunion.  This cabin is peaceful, homey and large enough to sleep most of the family.  The one downside to this cabin is the lack of insulation/carpeting or something between the upstairs and downstairs.  You can have a whispering conversation from a main floor room with a person in an upstairs room and hear every last syllable clear as a bell.  My goal on these particular weekends is to get the kids to sleep an hour ahead of everyone else so they aren't disturbing the sleep rituals of the upstairs guests.  This works out barely ever.  One of these nights brings back a fondly embarrassing memory.
I did place my children in bed ahead of everyone else, but they seem to enjoy having their very meaningful conversations after the lights go out.  I went back to the bedroom a few times to remind them to zip it and then the relatives started wandering off to bed.  I headed back to the bedroom to reign them in once again and Sydney informs me that he is teaching Sam a new song that he had learned.  Of course he felt it necessary to share this new song with me as well, so I agreed on the condition that they would sleep after this performance.  This was agreed to and then the show began.  The kids stood up, joined hands and began skipping in a circle. They were 4 and 5 years old, so they did more humming than singing until the very important part of the song.

"All awound the Muwberry bush, Duh dunt da dunt duh duh duh, dunt duh dunt duh duh duh duh duh........POP goes the wiener!"
And then they started to repeat this and I begin yelling at them in silence, waving my arms, shaking them and doing whatever I could to silently stop the lovely pop goes the wiener performance. There was silence upstairs, I'm sure my face was a crimson shade and all I could do was say.  "I love you guys, lets lay down and go to sleep, no more singing please."
The next morning the only thing I heard from anyone sleeping upstairs was Aunt Donna telling me how sweet the kids were singing downstairs last night.  Oh gawd!

Student of the Month...When do we Eat?

My Super Sam was chosen as Kindergarten Student of the Month at her wonderful elementary school.  This involves a certificate and lunch with the Principle, counselor and other award recipients at The Pita Pit.  Sam was overjoyed upon hearing that she had been chosen for this prestigious award.  She asked what would happen now and I explained that she would get some sort of certificate, her picture would be posted on the wall for everyone to see and she would get to go have lunch at Pita Pit with the Principle, counselor and other award-winning students.  Her response....

"Did they tell you exactly when we are going to eat because Pita Pit is really good?"

I can tell you with 100% certainty that the only thing she will remember about this important kindergarten moment is the delicious pita sandwich that she got to scarf down.  Sam loves food!

Kinder:   Sam  is our pick for the Kindergarten Spirit award.  Sam is friendly, kind and helpful.  She is a good listener and always tries her best.  She does great kindergarten work!  Sam is a wonderful girl who is delightful to have in class.  Her smile and calm nature brighten the day for all of those around her.

Not Dark, Really Dark!

My kids love sleeping with 42 blankets each, several pillows, baby dolls and various foxes.  If one of those massively important things is missing, all activities must stop and the missing object must be found or we won't be going to bed on this particular night.  I won't be a nice mother the next day, so I am willing to drop everything to find the missing link to bedtime or at least direct the child to where the thing can be found.  Sam has a habit of getting out of bed 10 or 12 times each evening to let me know of various thoughts going through her head, take bathroom breaks because of the gallons of water she must have drank before crawling into bed, to have me investigate a sound or to bring something to bed that she has forgotten.  This particular night when she was a mere 5 years old, she comes out of her room to let me know she needs her yellow blanket.  I know that her yellow blanket is in the car so I tell her to go get the blanket out of the car.
"But it's dark in the garage."
"Yep, just turn on all the lights, it'll be fine."
"Ok."
And, off she goes with a brave face on determined to get that all important yellow blanket. The door to the garage opens and closes, then opens and closes again very quickly.
"MOM, you gotta come out to the garage with me, it's bitch black out there!"
And seeing as how I wouldn't want to mess with that kind of darkness either, I am happy to help.

I didn't correct my little Sam on this term because I really didn't want to draw attention to her saying this word. I figured at some point, she would get it right and I hoped in the mean time, the phrase did not become a frequent occurrence in public.  She did let me know about some bitch blackness a few other times and once reprimanded my mother (YaYa) for leaving her in the bathroom in bitch blackness, but each time, we just quietly left the room and laughed hysterically.  The phrase has left her vocabulary, but I still remember it quite fondly.

This is my first blog post in which I will publicly admit that I enjoy making fun of my kids.  Don't get me wrong, I love them dearly, but some of the ridiculousness that comes out of their mouths leaves me with my mouth wide open wondering if something went awry in the womb.  My kids are the best and most exhausting thing that has ever happened to me.  I wish I could remember so much more of what I was like when I was a kid.  I want to be able to show my kids that they had pretty awesome personalities as children and this will be my ongoing documentation of some pretty random things they have said.
My son, Sydney is 7.   There is a lot going on with Sydney.  he has been in Speech Therapy since he was 1.  There is nothing wrong with my boy, those L sounds are just a pain in the bunzers for him get out of his mouth.   He is as stubborn a child as I have EVER met, he is picky to no end, does not care what he wears and loves bedtime.  He has taught me that life is about picking your battles and remembering that for all those days that he is grumpy and the majority of our conversations include me trying to reason with him while he grunts at me and plugs his ears don't overshadow the days that he forgoes his Lego's to snuggle with me on the couch and have me read to him.
Inside that stubborn brain is a brilliant, fearless, perfectionist who has a memory like an elephant.  If a Lego creation is to be built, all sides must be identical in terms of color and Lego piece used.  Although this is cool in the end, an all out war against the Lego's will ensue if the right piece cannot be found.  When I tell Sydney Bean's stories, I will tell them the way it sounds coming out of his mouth because it just sounds so much better this way.  I love my boy!
Sammy Sweetpea is my girl, she is 6, she is completely awesome, calm, cool and collected.  Sam and Sydney could not be more opposite in personality.  Sam is not fearless, she is overly cautious.  She, like the cowardly lion, could use a little more courage.  Sam doesn't really care about TV or toys, she cares about what I am doing at all times.  She is my shadow.  Sam will eat anything and if food is involved, she is all in.  Sam hates jeans, they are itchy and tight.  Sweatpants are the only way to go.
I don't think either kid wins in the weird verbalizing category.  I also don't think my kids say funnier/stranger things than any other kid.  I do think that it is important that all of their strangeness be written down for them to read when they are adults.  I think they will love and appreciate who they were as a child.