There are lots of reasons to be glad it is baseball season again. (Although personally, I’d much prefer the weather inside the gym for a couple more weeks.) Our boys, however, don’t seem to have a problem with the cooler temperatures, and as we made our first outing Monday night--against my earnest protests--I remembered one of the biggest reasons I love going to games…our crazy conversations.
Now Blair isn’t that far of a drive, but it’s amazing the chats we can have with our kids when we turn off the radio and simply take the time to listen. Some things, I’ll admit, don’t make me too proud. Others are down right ridiculous. And still others…well, I’ll let you decide.
Cooper: Mom, when are we gonna get a baby?
Me: I didn’t know we had sent off for one.
Brisco: Yeah! When are we gonna get that baby?!
Me: You people are crazy.
Cooper: My favorite word is “Mutasha”.
Me: What does that mean?
Cooper: I don’t know.
Brisco: I wish nothing cost anything.
Me: What?
Brisco: I wish everything was free so nobody would run out of money.
Me: Yeah, that’d be cool.
Cooper: Who’s on the ten dollar bill?
Me: I don’t know. Let me look…it’s Hamilton.
Cooper: How do you know?
Me: It says his name right under his face.
Brisco: How’d we get our food so fast?
Me: I don’t know. I guess it cooked fast. Maybe that’s why they call it “fast food”.
Brisco: Maybe they should call it “free food”.
Me: Yeah. If it really was free, that’d be great.
Brisco: No. They should call it “fast, free food”.
Me: Yeah. Even better.
Brisco: No. They should call it “Fast food. Free food. Just the way you like it.”
Me: Son, I do believe I see a future for you in advertising.
Cooper: My favorite word is “Chihuahua”.
Me: I thought you said your favorite word was “Mutasha”?
Cooper: Oh yeah. My first favorite is “Mutasha”. Then “Chihuahua”.
Me: What does “Mutasha” mean?
Cooper: I don’t know.
Me: Where did you hear it?
Cooper: On the first Star Wars. It’s Spanish.
Me: What? I didn’t know they spoke Spanish on Star Wars. How do you know it’s Spanish?
Cooper: I don’t know. Cause I didn’t know what they were saying. I just like the way it sounds.
Me: It could be any language, you know. There’s lots of them. French. Italian. Wookie.
Cooper: Oh. Well, I don’t know what language it is.
Me: Now, “Chihuahua”? That’s Spanish.
Cooper: I wanna be President, but I don’t wanna die.
Me: Coop, everybody dies sometime. You don’t have to be a President to die. And if you wanna be President some day, you can. You can be anything you want to be.
Cooper: But a girl can’t be President, right?
Me: Uh, no. A girl can most definitely be President.
Brisco: Well that’s dumb!
Me: Excuse me? This “girl” sitting in the front seat might just come back there and box your ears. It is NOT dumb, and girls can do anything boys can do.
Brisco: Na Uh! They can’t be preachers!
Me: Ok. So you got me there. They can’t be preachers.
Brisco: And they don’t have wienies!
Me: Uh, No. They don’t, but what’s that got to do with anything?
Cooper: They can’t pee standing up.
Me: Ok. Right again. You two seem to be missing the point. What I’m trying to say is that if you work hard, you can be anything you want to be.
Cooper: So…if I wanna be a softball player…I can?
Me: (full of sarcasm) Sure, Coop. If you really want to be a softball player, you can.
Cooper: Ha!! No thanks.
(After listening to far too much conversation between the two boys about “poop” and the various forms it might take)
Me: Ok, that’s enough talk about poop.
Brisco: What? No more poopy talk about poop?
Me: Brisco! I’m serious!
Brisco: Ok, poop. Oops. I mean, Sorry.
Me: You guys wanna talk about poop so much, if a baby ever does come to our house, I’m putting you both in charge of changing poopy diapers. We’ll see how much you wanna talk about poop after that.
Cooper: Ooo! No!
Brisco: Oh, Yeah! Poop!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Conversations with kids after a trip to the museum
Me: What was your favorite part of the museum?
Brisco: The marble game. It was like a pinball machine. The marble was supposed to make music, but I made up a new game. It was fun!
Cooper: I liked the tree house. And the airplanes. And that you could shoot balls out of that one thing (i.e. a catapult). And I liked that me and Brisco could get in the airplanes and pretend to fly them. Oh, and I liked making race cars with dad. AND I liked blowing up stuff! Remember when that guy blew up that big bottle and Brisco started crying?
Me: Did you like that part, B?
Brisco: NO! I hated it! It was too loud! I hate it!
Me: Why don’t you like loud noises?
Brisco: (yelling) I don’t know! Too loud! (Oh, the irony.)
Me: What about the dome? Did you like the movie in the dome?
Cooper: I didn’t like that, ‘cause there wasn’t a movie. Just snow and stuff.
Me: You mean, there wasn’t a story to it?
Cooper: Yeah.
Me: Was there anything about it you liked?
Cooper: Snowboarding and hiking. Not surfing though.
Me: Would you climb a mountain?
Cooper: Yeah. Well, not actually. But I would snow board.
Me: Would you surf with a sail?
Cooper: Yeah, cause they have that stuff that sticks to your feet, and it won’t come off.
Me: What about you, Brisco? Did you like the dome?
Brisco: No
Me: Why?
Brisco: Cause all I liked about it was the snowboarding. That’s all I liked about it.
Me: Would you snowboard?
Brisco: No.
Me: Would you surf?
Brisco: No
Me: Would you ski?
Brisco: What is skiing?
Me: Going down the snowy mountain with two sticks on your feet.
Brisco: NO!
Cooper: I wish we had one of those tree houses at our house.
Me: Well, talk to Dad. Maybe he can build you one.
Brisco: Nah, he can’t.
Me: Why do you say that?
Brisco: Cause he didn’t even finish making the gazebo into a fort. Besides, he just cut down all the trees.
The day after we went to the Omniplex, I took the boys to the Cowboy Hall of Fame for a few hours. Note to self: The Cowboy Hall of Fame should probably have been on the day one agenda. It was not quite as exciting after a day at the Omniplex. However, we were able to provide each other with a few laughs.
“Conversations with my kids about the Cowboy Hall of Fame”
Me: Ok, now when we go in here, we can’t act like morons. It’s big, it’s fancy, and the floors might be slippery. Absolutely No Sliding!
Cooper: Why are the floors slippery?
Me: They are nice and polished. If I remember right, they may be made of marble.
Brisco: (After a moment of thoughtful consideration…) Why would the floors be made of marbles?
Sheriff: Ok, boys. Get in that cell and get comfortable, now. You’ve got a long wait. The circuit judge won’t be in town till next Thursday.
Brisco: (Looking at me with that confused expression on his face) Mom? What’s a circus judge?
Me: What did you like about the Cowboy museum?
Cooper: I liked the kid part where we got to dress up. I liked the cowboy boots.
Brisco: I liked wearing the fringy vest!
Me: What else did you like, Brisco?
Brisco: I liked the old town.
Me: What did you like about it?
Brisco: I liked the jail!
Me: Did you like being locked inside?
Brisco: No!
Me: I need to get one of those for the house. That way when someone is misbehaving, I can just lock them up!
Brisco: Yeah! And I could put my sleeping bag in there and have a camp out!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Brisco: The marble game. It was like a pinball machine. The marble was supposed to make music, but I made up a new game. It was fun!
Cooper: I liked the tree house. And the airplanes. And that you could shoot balls out of that one thing (i.e. a catapult). And I liked that me and Brisco could get in the airplanes and pretend to fly them. Oh, and I liked making race cars with dad. AND I liked blowing up stuff! Remember when that guy blew up that big bottle and Brisco started crying?
Me: Did you like that part, B?
Brisco: NO! I hated it! It was too loud! I hate it!
Me: Why don’t you like loud noises?
Brisco: (yelling) I don’t know! Too loud! (Oh, the irony.)
Me: What about the dome? Did you like the movie in the dome?
Cooper: I didn’t like that, ‘cause there wasn’t a movie. Just snow and stuff.
Me: You mean, there wasn’t a story to it?
Cooper: Yeah.
Me: Was there anything about it you liked?
Cooper: Snowboarding and hiking. Not surfing though.
Me: Would you climb a mountain?
Cooper: Yeah. Well, not actually. But I would snow board.
Me: Would you surf with a sail?
Cooper: Yeah, cause they have that stuff that sticks to your feet, and it won’t come off.
Me: What about you, Brisco? Did you like the dome?
Brisco: No
Me: Why?
Brisco: Cause all I liked about it was the snowboarding. That’s all I liked about it.
Me: Would you snowboard?
Brisco: No.
Me: Would you surf?
Brisco: No
Me: Would you ski?
Brisco: What is skiing?
Me: Going down the snowy mountain with two sticks on your feet.
Brisco: NO!
Cooper: I wish we had one of those tree houses at our house.
Me: Well, talk to Dad. Maybe he can build you one.
Brisco: Nah, he can’t.
Me: Why do you say that?
Brisco: Cause he didn’t even finish making the gazebo into a fort. Besides, he just cut down all the trees.
The day after we went to the Omniplex, I took the boys to the Cowboy Hall of Fame for a few hours. Note to self: The Cowboy Hall of Fame should probably have been on the day one agenda. It was not quite as exciting after a day at the Omniplex. However, we were able to provide each other with a few laughs.
“Conversations with my kids about the Cowboy Hall of Fame”
Me: Ok, now when we go in here, we can’t act like morons. It’s big, it’s fancy, and the floors might be slippery. Absolutely No Sliding!
Cooper: Why are the floors slippery?
Me: They are nice and polished. If I remember right, they may be made of marble.
Brisco: (After a moment of thoughtful consideration…) Why would the floors be made of marbles?
Sheriff: Ok, boys. Get in that cell and get comfortable, now. You’ve got a long wait. The circuit judge won’t be in town till next Thursday.
Brisco: (Looking at me with that confused expression on his face) Mom? What’s a circus judge?
Me: What did you like about the Cowboy museum?
Cooper: I liked the kid part where we got to dress up. I liked the cowboy boots.
Brisco: I liked wearing the fringy vest!
Me: What else did you like, Brisco?
Brisco: I liked the old town.
Me: What did you like about it?
Brisco: I liked the jail!
Me: Did you like being locked inside?
Brisco: No!
Me: I need to get one of those for the house. That way when someone is misbehaving, I can just lock them up!
Brisco: Yeah! And I could put my sleeping bag in there and have a camp out!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
A day at the museum
As dad set out for a day of meetings about hitting stances and pitching techniques, the boys and I headed to the museum. The Omniplex, as it used to be called, is quite literally the cupcake dangling in front of a curious child’s nose. It is filled with games and exhibits all designed to teach kids about the wonders of science.
I wasn’t sure if the boys were really old enough to enjoy the new and improved Science Museum Oklahoma, but I thought we’d give it a shot, and who knows, maybe it would inspire one of them to become a scientist or a doctor or even an astronaut (preferably the kind who keeps his feet on the ground).
The boys were curious about our agenda for the day, so I tried to tell them where we were going. But after 500 questions about what was inside and what we would do when we got there, I finally gave up trying to describe a place I hadn’t been since I was a grade-schooler, and decided if I couldn’t explain it, it might not be in their genes to become any of those noble science guys in the first place. Sorry boys. We’ll just have to wait and see.
From the moment we walked in the front door, I heard nothing but shrieks of excitement, as both boys were in awe at what lay before them. They were like pinballs, bouncing from one exhibit to the next. Everything they saw was jaw dropping and elicited that Christmas morning euphoria that caused them to yell at full volume, “Whoa! Awesome!” and “Mom, come look at this!”
They were both immediately overwhelmed by the rocket boosters from the space shuttles that sat near the front of the museum. After oohing and ahhing and snapping a few pics, it was the life-size dinosaur skeleton that grabbed their attention next. The Camarasaurus was pretty amazing, and I was warned several times that it would come to life at night.
“Everything in the museum will come to life at night!” I shuttered, making sure to play along, while assuring both boys that we’d be long gone before the sun went down.
We stopped for a moment at the giant set of human teeth. They were pretty amazed at what they saw, and a little disturbed at just what can happen to someone’s teeth after too much thumb sucking. We’ll see how long their angst holds up.
It was almost impossible to drag Cooper away from the erosion display…not because he is so concerned with solving this global, environmental problem…but because he got to dig in the rocks and the water and use logs to try and build a dam. Even though the water was ice cold, I know he would have stayed there all day if I’d have let him. It was only the promise of experiencing a real, live (simulated) earthquake that finally pulled him away.
Brisco was entranced by the game that experimented with noise...although I suppose the correct scientific word would be “sound”. Either way--not a surprise.
The exhibit was comprised of an empty pinball machine, with various objects made of different materials laying at random spots on the table. When a marble was shot out of the chute, it would hit against the objects as it rolled down the table, making a variety of different sounds.
Now, playing by these rules was fun for a minute, but what really made it interesting was when he lined up the shapes to form a tunnel into which he attempted to shoot that marble. Now this kind of fun (evidently) could last for hours.
It was a day full of firsts—experiences and activities one after another, each seeming better than the one just before. From the house of mirrors to driving the Segway, to experiencing how it feels when the space shuttle re-enters the earth’s atmosphere, that little-boy curiosity that so often gets them into trouble was let loose to run free.
And six hours later, as the time came for us to head back to get dad, they were both still going strong. “Can we go get Daddy and bring him back to see?”
It just goes to show that we never really know what our kids might be ready for. I certainly never would have guessed after eight hours of science that we’d be told by Albert Einstein himself: “The museum is closing, folks. It’s time to call it a day!”
Yes, a day at the museum was just what we needed. And apparently, the boys could not have agreed more because as we were driving home the next day, I overheard one of them say, “We should go to that place at least once every week!”
“Yeah, once every week,” the other chimed in.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
I wasn’t sure if the boys were really old enough to enjoy the new and improved Science Museum Oklahoma, but I thought we’d give it a shot, and who knows, maybe it would inspire one of them to become a scientist or a doctor or even an astronaut (preferably the kind who keeps his feet on the ground).
The boys were curious about our agenda for the day, so I tried to tell them where we were going. But after 500 questions about what was inside and what we would do when we got there, I finally gave up trying to describe a place I hadn’t been since I was a grade-schooler, and decided if I couldn’t explain it, it might not be in their genes to become any of those noble science guys in the first place. Sorry boys. We’ll just have to wait and see.
From the moment we walked in the front door, I heard nothing but shrieks of excitement, as both boys were in awe at what lay before them. They were like pinballs, bouncing from one exhibit to the next. Everything they saw was jaw dropping and elicited that Christmas morning euphoria that caused them to yell at full volume, “Whoa! Awesome!” and “Mom, come look at this!”
They were both immediately overwhelmed by the rocket boosters from the space shuttles that sat near the front of the museum. After oohing and ahhing and snapping a few pics, it was the life-size dinosaur skeleton that grabbed their attention next. The Camarasaurus was pretty amazing, and I was warned several times that it would come to life at night.
“Everything in the museum will come to life at night!” I shuttered, making sure to play along, while assuring both boys that we’d be long gone before the sun went down.
We stopped for a moment at the giant set of human teeth. They were pretty amazed at what they saw, and a little disturbed at just what can happen to someone’s teeth after too much thumb sucking. We’ll see how long their angst holds up.
It was almost impossible to drag Cooper away from the erosion display…not because he is so concerned with solving this global, environmental problem…but because he got to dig in the rocks and the water and use logs to try and build a dam. Even though the water was ice cold, I know he would have stayed there all day if I’d have let him. It was only the promise of experiencing a real, live (simulated) earthquake that finally pulled him away.
Brisco was entranced by the game that experimented with noise...although I suppose the correct scientific word would be “sound”. Either way--not a surprise.
The exhibit was comprised of an empty pinball machine, with various objects made of different materials laying at random spots on the table. When a marble was shot out of the chute, it would hit against the objects as it rolled down the table, making a variety of different sounds.
Now, playing by these rules was fun for a minute, but what really made it interesting was when he lined up the shapes to form a tunnel into which he attempted to shoot that marble. Now this kind of fun (evidently) could last for hours.
It was a day full of firsts—experiences and activities one after another, each seeming better than the one just before. From the house of mirrors to driving the Segway, to experiencing how it feels when the space shuttle re-enters the earth’s atmosphere, that little-boy curiosity that so often gets them into trouble was let loose to run free.
And six hours later, as the time came for us to head back to get dad, they were both still going strong. “Can we go get Daddy and bring him back to see?”
It just goes to show that we never really know what our kids might be ready for. I certainly never would have guessed after eight hours of science that we’d be told by Albert Einstein himself: “The museum is closing, folks. It’s time to call it a day!”
Yes, a day at the museum was just what we needed. And apparently, the boys could not have agreed more because as we were driving home the next day, I overheard one of them say, “We should go to that place at least once every week!”
“Yeah, once every week,” the other chimed in.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Welcome to Bricktown
Last weekend, Randy attended his yearly coaches’ clinic in OKC and invited me and the boys to tag along. A night in a hotel and a day out in the big town sounded like fun to the three of us, so we packed a quick bag, threw in our swimming suits (just in case) and headed east in hopes of beating the Friday afternoon traffic.
With the help of Aunt Edna (the GPS), we were proud and amazed that we only had to make one illegal u-turn to arrive at our hotel safely, and just before dark. To Randy’s excitement, our hotel had a free shuttle to and from Bricktown 24 hours a day. He was officially finished with big city driving.
The boys were eager to see Bricktown, even though they had no idea what that meant or where it was. They’ve both been there before, but it’s been a while, making it seem new and exciting all over again. So, at suppertime we hopped on the shuttle and in about five minutes we were standing outside of Mickey Mantle’s Steakhouse, listening to the boys go nuts about the big buildings, the bridges, and most of all, the canal.
It was as if they had never seen water before, and it was all we could do to get them to contain their excitement and remind Brisco especially, to maintain control over the volume of his voice. Everything was “Awesome!” Only it came out, “AWESOME!!!” And everyone within a two-block radius was wondering what they had missed.
We decided for supper we would introduce the boys to Chelino’s. Not only were we guaranteed to get our fill on their delicious food, but we were also entertained by the Mariachis and the goofy guy who made animals and objects out of balloons. I’m not sure which was better: watching Brisco get down to his favorite “Mexican song” or seeing Cooper wear a rocket made out of balloons on his head.
There wasn’t a better place in the world to be with our bellies full on a 55 degree evening in late January than Bricktown. We had plenty of walking room, and beautiful weather to do it in, and everything our kids laid their eyes on was a thrill. Made me kind of glad we saved our money on those Thunder tickets we contemplated buying.
We admired the ducks…well, “taunted” may actually be a better word. We walked the canal, and instinctively, the boys were drawn to the only grassy hill in downtown OKC. We watched as they ran up and down that hill--green, balloon airplane chasing partially-popped orange and blue rocket. Big city or not, they were still just a couple of country kids playing games and running wild.
Before calling it a day, we threw pennies into the fountain, ate 15 dollars worth of ice cream, and wondered why in the world there were still Christmas lights strung all over the trees. We agreed that there were probably no fish in the canal, but Cooper still wished he had brought his fishing pole just to make sure. And as we walked up the brick-paved street to meet our free, 24-hour shuttle, we agreed that the only thing that would have made the night more perfect was if the lights had been on at the ballpark.
The evening in Bricktown was the perfect start to our fun-filled weekend. Who knew bumpy roads and twisted balloons could be so much fun? And it was just the beginning. Tomorrow? Look out, science geeks and physics gurus. The Smith boys are headed your way.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
With the help of Aunt Edna (the GPS), we were proud and amazed that we only had to make one illegal u-turn to arrive at our hotel safely, and just before dark. To Randy’s excitement, our hotel had a free shuttle to and from Bricktown 24 hours a day. He was officially finished with big city driving.
The boys were eager to see Bricktown, even though they had no idea what that meant or where it was. They’ve both been there before, but it’s been a while, making it seem new and exciting all over again. So, at suppertime we hopped on the shuttle and in about five minutes we were standing outside of Mickey Mantle’s Steakhouse, listening to the boys go nuts about the big buildings, the bridges, and most of all, the canal.
It was as if they had never seen water before, and it was all we could do to get them to contain their excitement and remind Brisco especially, to maintain control over the volume of his voice. Everything was “Awesome!” Only it came out, “AWESOME!!!” And everyone within a two-block radius was wondering what they had missed.
We decided for supper we would introduce the boys to Chelino’s. Not only were we guaranteed to get our fill on their delicious food, but we were also entertained by the Mariachis and the goofy guy who made animals and objects out of balloons. I’m not sure which was better: watching Brisco get down to his favorite “Mexican song” or seeing Cooper wear a rocket made out of balloons on his head.
There wasn’t a better place in the world to be with our bellies full on a 55 degree evening in late January than Bricktown. We had plenty of walking room, and beautiful weather to do it in, and everything our kids laid their eyes on was a thrill. Made me kind of glad we saved our money on those Thunder tickets we contemplated buying.
We admired the ducks…well, “taunted” may actually be a better word. We walked the canal, and instinctively, the boys were drawn to the only grassy hill in downtown OKC. We watched as they ran up and down that hill--green, balloon airplane chasing partially-popped orange and blue rocket. Big city or not, they were still just a couple of country kids playing games and running wild.
Before calling it a day, we threw pennies into the fountain, ate 15 dollars worth of ice cream, and wondered why in the world there were still Christmas lights strung all over the trees. We agreed that there were probably no fish in the canal, but Cooper still wished he had brought his fishing pole just to make sure. And as we walked up the brick-paved street to meet our free, 24-hour shuttle, we agreed that the only thing that would have made the night more perfect was if the lights had been on at the ballpark.
The evening in Bricktown was the perfect start to our fun-filled weekend. Who knew bumpy roads and twisted balloons could be so much fun? And it was just the beginning. Tomorrow? Look out, science geeks and physics gurus. The Smith boys are headed your way.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Quotable Quotes
Cooper: Mom, When are you gonna take a shower? You haven’t had a shower in like eight weeks!
Me: Uh, yeah, Cooper, actually I usually take my shower at night when you are in bed.
Cooper: Oh. Thank Goodness!
Brisco: (From the bathroom, yelling at the top of his lungs) I AM DONE! (My signal to go in and help him because he is, well, done.)
Me: Ok, I’m right here.
Brisco: It’s good that I ate those donuts for breakfast. Look! My poop is floating!
Me: So, donuts make your poop float?
Brisco: Yep.
Me: And…that is good?
Brisco: Yep.
Brisco: Look! I’m an old man with a broke leg. “Oh man, I broke my leg!”
Brisco: Cooper, remember how Brady (our cousin) is scared of pump jacks?
Cooper: Huh?
Brisco: At night on the trampoline at Granma’s.
Cooper: (Looking totally bewildered)
Brisco: No, wait. Jumping Jacks…No, Bo Jacks. That’s it.
Cooper: What are Bo Jacks?
Brisco: I don’t know. They only come out at night and they have horns or something like deer. Granddaddy said, “Look out for Bo Jacks.”
Cooper: Hmm.
Brisco: They sleep in the day and come out at night. I kinda think Granddaddy’s just kidding about them.
Me: (Tripping on yet another Star Wars toy as I walk into the living room) Why is this thing in the middle of the floor?!
Brisco: Sit down before you fall down!
Me: (Hands on hips, shooting daggers in his direction)
Brisco: Ha! Ha! Mom! That’s what they say on Indiana Jones. “Sit down before you fall down!”
Brisco: (While watching an infomercial on TV) I’d take that Chef Basket, would you?
Me: Yeah, I’d take it.
Brisco: Yeah. I’d take two. But I wouldn’t take that sharp knife.
Me: Yeah, that’s probably smart.
Grandmother: (Laying out school clothes for the following day, including clean underwear)
Cooper: I don’t change my underwear every day.
Grandmother: Oh?
Cooper: No. Just every three days. Maybe every five days. Momma lets me.
Me: (From three states away) What? Good grief. Do NOT tell anyone he said that!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Me: Uh, yeah, Cooper, actually I usually take my shower at night when you are in bed.
Cooper: Oh. Thank Goodness!
Brisco: (From the bathroom, yelling at the top of his lungs) I AM DONE! (My signal to go in and help him because he is, well, done.)
Me: Ok, I’m right here.
Brisco: It’s good that I ate those donuts for breakfast. Look! My poop is floating!
Me: So, donuts make your poop float?
Brisco: Yep.
Me: And…that is good?
Brisco: Yep.
Brisco: Look! I’m an old man with a broke leg. “Oh man, I broke my leg!”
Brisco: Cooper, remember how Brady (our cousin) is scared of pump jacks?
Cooper: Huh?
Brisco: At night on the trampoline at Granma’s.
Cooper: (Looking totally bewildered)
Brisco: No, wait. Jumping Jacks…No, Bo Jacks. That’s it.
Cooper: What are Bo Jacks?
Brisco: I don’t know. They only come out at night and they have horns or something like deer. Granddaddy said, “Look out for Bo Jacks.”
Cooper: Hmm.
Brisco: They sleep in the day and come out at night. I kinda think Granddaddy’s just kidding about them.
Me: (Tripping on yet another Star Wars toy as I walk into the living room) Why is this thing in the middle of the floor?!
Brisco: Sit down before you fall down!
Me: (Hands on hips, shooting daggers in his direction)
Brisco: Ha! Ha! Mom! That’s what they say on Indiana Jones. “Sit down before you fall down!”
Brisco: (While watching an infomercial on TV) I’d take that Chef Basket, would you?
Me: Yeah, I’d take it.
Brisco: Yeah. I’d take two. But I wouldn’t take that sharp knife.
Me: Yeah, that’s probably smart.
Grandmother: (Laying out school clothes for the following day, including clean underwear)
Cooper: I don’t change my underwear every day.
Grandmother: Oh?
Cooper: No. Just every three days. Maybe every five days. Momma lets me.
Me: (From three states away) What? Good grief. Do NOT tell anyone he said that!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Just asking
I came across a website recently. 100 Questions for Parents to Ask Kids. I think it was written to help parents of teenagers who all of a sudden realize they don’t know how to talk to the mutated life form they have living under their roof. You know, the ones that now only slightly resemble their former sweet, talkative and much less moody children?
One hundred questions is a lot of talking. But even if a parent could only get his child to answer yes or no, I think he could still learn a lot about his kids, if he took the time to ask. Not only that, but we parents just might learn a little about ourselves in the process. At least what we appear to be through our children’s eyes.
So I picked ten of what I considered to be the most age appropriate questions for my now four and six year old boys and started asking.
Question 1: Tell me the five best things about you.
Brisco: I like to swim!
I like to play basketball.
I like to do school with Momma.
I like to play outside with Cooper.
I like to color with Momma.
Cooper: I’m taking Brisco to school with me on Friday.
I love my Mom.
I love my dog.
I like the Tinker Toys that Daddy builds.
I like to play baseball.
Question 2: If you could ask me never to serve two vegetables again, which two would you choose?
Brisco: Green Beans. That’s the only one.
Cooper: I don’t know. I like all of them.
Question 3: What kind of things make a person a good friend?
Brisco: Being nice, doing things together, sharing.
Cooper: A person who is kind and special.
Question 4: What are the kind of things that make someone a good parent?
Brisco: Cooking pancakes and sausage, playing catch in the summer, doing school together.
Cooper: Letting me have ice cream! Daddy letting me do anything I want to do.
Question 5: What is the most enjoyable thing you can remember our family doing together?
Brisco: Hiking! And climbing mountains. Driving up the curvy mountain, and it rained, and dad tried to get down, but he slipped and cut his leg. Just a little.
Cooper: When we went to Branson.
Question 6: What is the scariest movie you've ever seen?
Brisco: None!
Cooper: None.
Question 7: What is the grossest thing you can think of?
Brisco: Poop
Cooper: On Indiana Jones when that girl wants stew and it has eyeballs in it.
Question 8: What would you do if you were invisible for a day?
Brisco: (He couldn’t come up with an answer, but his wheels were turning so fast I thought his head might pop off.)
Cooper: Build a house.
Question 9: Who do you think you are most like in our family? Why?
Brisco: Mommy cause you’re my mommy! And Cooper cause he’s my brother! And myself.
Cooper: Daddy. I don’t know why.
Question 10: Who is the best light saber fighter in our family?
Brisco: Mom and Dad. And Cooper says me.
Cooper: Either Daddy or you. Ya’ll need to fight each other; then I’ll know.
(Ok, so I came up with that last one on my own. But some things you never know unless you ask!)
And that’s All in a day’s work!
One hundred questions is a lot of talking. But even if a parent could only get his child to answer yes or no, I think he could still learn a lot about his kids, if he took the time to ask. Not only that, but we parents just might learn a little about ourselves in the process. At least what we appear to be through our children’s eyes.
So I picked ten of what I considered to be the most age appropriate questions for my now four and six year old boys and started asking.
Question 1: Tell me the five best things about you.
Brisco: I like to swim!
I like to play basketball.
I like to do school with Momma.
I like to play outside with Cooper.
I like to color with Momma.
Cooper: I’m taking Brisco to school with me on Friday.
I love my Mom.
I love my dog.
I like the Tinker Toys that Daddy builds.
I like to play baseball.
Question 2: If you could ask me never to serve two vegetables again, which two would you choose?
Brisco: Green Beans. That’s the only one.
Cooper: I don’t know. I like all of them.
Question 3: What kind of things make a person a good friend?
Brisco: Being nice, doing things together, sharing.
Cooper: A person who is kind and special.
Question 4: What are the kind of things that make someone a good parent?
Brisco: Cooking pancakes and sausage, playing catch in the summer, doing school together.
Cooper: Letting me have ice cream! Daddy letting me do anything I want to do.
Question 5: What is the most enjoyable thing you can remember our family doing together?
Brisco: Hiking! And climbing mountains. Driving up the curvy mountain, and it rained, and dad tried to get down, but he slipped and cut his leg. Just a little.
Cooper: When we went to Branson.
Question 6: What is the scariest movie you've ever seen?
Brisco: None!
Cooper: None.
Question 7: What is the grossest thing you can think of?
Brisco: Poop
Cooper: On Indiana Jones when that girl wants stew and it has eyeballs in it.
Question 8: What would you do if you were invisible for a day?
Brisco: (He couldn’t come up with an answer, but his wheels were turning so fast I thought his head might pop off.)
Cooper: Build a house.
Question 9: Who do you think you are most like in our family? Why?
Brisco: Mommy cause you’re my mommy! And Cooper cause he’s my brother! And myself.
Cooper: Daddy. I don’t know why.
Question 10: Who is the best light saber fighter in our family?
Brisco: Mom and Dad. And Cooper says me.
Cooper: Either Daddy or you. Ya’ll need to fight each other; then I’ll know.
(Ok, so I came up with that last one on my own. But some things you never know unless you ask!)
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Nightmare on Sixth Street
If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was the night before Christmas instead of the last night of Christmas break. It began as most evenings do at la hacienda on Sixth Street, with two little boys who are never quite ready to call it a day, begging for a reprieve and scoffing at my declaration of bedtime. But this day was done, and with it the end of another holiday season, and an awesome two weeks of staying up late, sleeping in, and playing hard all day long.
Once the boys were convinced they had exhausted their last “just one more minute”, they conceded their loss and crawled into bed, one sad about the thought of having to get up early, the other devastated, imagining his day without his favorite playmate, best friend, and big brother. However, three trips to the living room, two changes of clothes and one bed swap later, they were finally out. But not for good.
It seemed I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I felt, more than heard, someone in my ear. “Momma. How much longer will this night last?” I glanced at the clock which said sharply, 4:12 a.m. and replied, “Until you see sunlight. Go back to bed.”
To my surprise, the buzzing bug flew back to bed with little protest, only to be followed by another little bugger about ten minutes later, the second of which didn’t even bother to tickle my ear. He simply crawled over my head--pulling hair and smacking me in the face with cold feet--until he found himself a place between me and his daddy to wait out the dark.
Less than a minute and a half had passed before the first little boy was back, asking, “Momma! Where’s Cooper? And, oh, I had a bad dream.” Now I love all three of my boys, but there’s no way I’m sharing one bed with all of them. So, I grabbed a pillow and went to bed with the night talker, assuring him that it was still the middle of the night and he had lots of sleep left in him.
We finally settled in, and I thought surely I would sleep this nightmare away when I felt someone staring at me in the dark. I moved over and made room for the older insomniac, wondering how it was that I was trapped in the middle of these two, cover-stealing knot heads while their daddy lay snoring in the other room with the triple coils of the king-sized Serta Perfect Sleeper wrapping him up in his own child-like slumber. Oh, the injustice!
As the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds of my much needed nightly rejuvenation, I dozed in and out of consciousness with thumb sucking and snot sniffing jolting me out of every coveted REM cycle. A final check of the time showed it was now 5:19 a.m., and I could see the eyes of both boys staring a hole in the ceiling.
I must have passed out sometime after that, because the next thing I remember was Dad, picking Cooper up out of the bed to get him ready for school, and me, rolling over to face the wall, with exactly zero intention of getting up to help.
Later that morning, as I awoke with an elbow up my nose and a leg draped across my backside, I realized that the nightmare had ended. I could see sunlight.
And even though it was barely past 8 a.m. and I had gotten nowhere near my Dr. recommended eight hours of sleep, I knew what I needed more than the measly 30 minutes of dozing that might per chance be allowed to me by my still sleeping second born son, was a moment of silence and a strong Cup of Joe.
So, ever so slowly, I rolled out from under my four year old’s death grip. I wrapped up in my best, comfy robe, poured myself the strongest cup of coffee I’d had in a week, and enjoyed sitting alone in our Sixth Street abode engulfed in the blissful sound of silence…all twelve and a half minutes of it.
And that’s All in a day’s (and night’s) work!
Once the boys were convinced they had exhausted their last “just one more minute”, they conceded their loss and crawled into bed, one sad about the thought of having to get up early, the other devastated, imagining his day without his favorite playmate, best friend, and big brother. However, three trips to the living room, two changes of clothes and one bed swap later, they were finally out. But not for good.
It seemed I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I felt, more than heard, someone in my ear. “Momma. How much longer will this night last?” I glanced at the clock which said sharply, 4:12 a.m. and replied, “Until you see sunlight. Go back to bed.”
To my surprise, the buzzing bug flew back to bed with little protest, only to be followed by another little bugger about ten minutes later, the second of which didn’t even bother to tickle my ear. He simply crawled over my head--pulling hair and smacking me in the face with cold feet--until he found himself a place between me and his daddy to wait out the dark.
Less than a minute and a half had passed before the first little boy was back, asking, “Momma! Where’s Cooper? And, oh, I had a bad dream.” Now I love all three of my boys, but there’s no way I’m sharing one bed with all of them. So, I grabbed a pillow and went to bed with the night talker, assuring him that it was still the middle of the night and he had lots of sleep left in him.
We finally settled in, and I thought surely I would sleep this nightmare away when I felt someone staring at me in the dark. I moved over and made room for the older insomniac, wondering how it was that I was trapped in the middle of these two, cover-stealing knot heads while their daddy lay snoring in the other room with the triple coils of the king-sized Serta Perfect Sleeper wrapping him up in his own child-like slumber. Oh, the injustice!
As the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds of my much needed nightly rejuvenation, I dozed in and out of consciousness with thumb sucking and snot sniffing jolting me out of every coveted REM cycle. A final check of the time showed it was now 5:19 a.m., and I could see the eyes of both boys staring a hole in the ceiling.
I must have passed out sometime after that, because the next thing I remember was Dad, picking Cooper up out of the bed to get him ready for school, and me, rolling over to face the wall, with exactly zero intention of getting up to help.
Later that morning, as I awoke with an elbow up my nose and a leg draped across my backside, I realized that the nightmare had ended. I could see sunlight.
And even though it was barely past 8 a.m. and I had gotten nowhere near my Dr. recommended eight hours of sleep, I knew what I needed more than the measly 30 minutes of dozing that might per chance be allowed to me by my still sleeping second born son, was a moment of silence and a strong Cup of Joe.
So, ever so slowly, I rolled out from under my four year old’s death grip. I wrapped up in my best, comfy robe, poured myself the strongest cup of coffee I’d had in a week, and enjoyed sitting alone in our Sixth Street abode engulfed in the blissful sound of silence…all twelve and a half minutes of it.
And that’s All in a day’s (and night’s) work!
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