Out of the Mouths of Babes ...

Out of the mouths of babes. Kids say the darnedest things. What will he think of next? These sayings may be cliche, but they're true. I've found this to be the case time and time again with our kids, and I still wonder why I'm surprised by the things they say.

Dude has come up with a couple of doosies lately. In his defense, he's usually very serious about what he's saying and has no idea whatsoever that he's the reason why I'm stifling a laugh. It's just his honest thoughts or feelings in the moment. I think that may be that's why they're so priceless.

Episode 1:
So the other day, we had soccer practice. On soccer night (as you all know), our time for evening activities is extremely limited. Dude was already having some problems listening, and was having a string of never-ending tantrums. He and Sister were in the living room - probably arguing about something - when I announced that dinner was ready. As any hungry 5-year-old would, Dude comes running into the kitchen to see what delicacy I had prepared for the family that evening.

He took one look at the pasta awaiting him on his plate, and promptly burst into tears. Simultaneously, he cried, "Awwwwww! You KNOW I can't eat yellow food!" And ran out of the room. Since when, I ask you, can the boy not eat yellow food? Seriously. Yellow food? Never mind the mac and cheese. Oh, and the corn. And whatever else he eats that's yellow! After being informed that there would be no special, non-yellow dinner just for him, he ate it. That was that. Score one for Mom.

Episode 2:
Fast forward to last Monday night. My husband was at the school board meeting, so it was just me and the kids. Dude must have been really tired. The poor child just couldn't hold it together to save his life. Everything Sister said sent him into a crying fit. I could do nothing right. Oh wait. That's not unusual. But if you had asked him, there was most certainly a plot against him that night.

There was absolutely nothing that could set things to right with him. Sister and I endured a string of knock-down, full-on conniption fits. The likes of which you have never seen before. I do not exaggerate here.

So after a very long evening, it was finally time for bed. Before schlepping them and all their stuff upstairs for a bath and bed, I went into our bathroom to change into my comfy PJs. Dude joins me while I'm changing ... kinda just loitering, like he wants something.

He finally works up the courage to ask me this question. "Uh, Mama? Since I'm um, uh falling apart tonight, can I sleep in your bed?"

Somehow, that simple question just made everything right with the world again. My sweet little boy understood that he was falling apart, and needed some comforting from his Mom. The frustration and the fatigue were instantly washed away, and I got to snuggle with my little boy.

Photo courtesy of Photo Mojo.

Phone Call From a Friend

This evening when we got home, the answering machine was blinking at us. We had a message. As Dude and Sister were running around being noisy, I tried to listen to the voicemail. I quickly realized as I was listening, that this message wasn't for me or my husband.

It was for Sister!

Her little friend Candice from her class had called and left her number so we could call back. It was a very cute message too. Candice was obviously coached by her mother on what to say and to use polite manners. I could also hear her Mom in the background whispering each digit in their phone number as Candice recited it back into the phone. Very cute.

So then it was our turn. I told Sister what to say and gave her some pointers on what to do if Candice wasn't available. They chatted for about 15 minutes about mostly observational stuff. Some examples: "I have an orange cat." "No, that was just my little brother." "My Mom's cooking dinner." (Author's note: Since when does peanut butter and honey sandwiches count as "cooking" dinner?) Then the phone was turned over to the Moms.

The girls had set up a play date for this coming Sunday, and oh, "is it okay, Mom?" So, it looks like we'll be heading to the park for a couple of hours on Sunday. Should be fun!

I'm constantly reminded - on a daily basis, it seems - that my little girl is growing up.

Photo courtesy of Jason Nicholls.

The "D" Word

I don't have a potty mouth, but occasionally I let one slip. Worse even, sometimes the kids are around to hear it. I try. Really I do. But sometimes the situation just calls for a bad word.

Usually, if I catch myself saying one, I try to say it under my breath ... but not always. They're never awful or ugly words, but still, they're not words that five year old children should be hearing.

And using.

And using correctly.

The other night in the bathtub, Dude was playing with his pirate ship. One of the pirates fell out of the crow's nest and into the bath water. As this happens, I hear Dude say, "Dammit!". We had a very stern talk about how that was not an appropriate word for little boys to be saying, and he promised to never say it again. Problem solved.

Then two days later we were in the soccer mom mobile on our way to pick up Sister from her after school program. Dude was going through his backpack looking for something, when from the back seat I hear, "Damn!". Apparently he had forgotten something at daycare and this upset him.

And this from the kid who didn't want to say, "What the hell!" when he thought I was driving too fast!

So once we were at home, we had another stern discussion. He again promised never to utter the "D" word, and I promised not to say it around him anymore. Okay, so I slipped up once. Just once, though, in a week. That's pretty good, right?

He reminds me daily that he is remembering not to say the "D" word. He also happily pointed out to me on the occasion of my one slip up that I HAD said it ... and he had not.

Photo courtesy of Alice Chaos.