I share a most unfortunate trait with Grandma (many unfortunate traits...unfortunately). Neither of us seem to have yellow lights or speed bumps or stop signs along the treacherous road between our brains and our mouths. Sometimes this leads to hilarity. Other times it leads to years long silent treatment - both given and received.
When it comes to the things I say to my kids though, so far, more funny than regretful. And the stuff I do regret? I comfort myself with the knowledge that they won't remember. I further comfort myself in the knowledge that if they are anything like their mother or grandmother, they probably weren't paying attention anyway.
I was thinking about a retrospective of the first two years of their lives - the things these poor kids have heard come out of my mouth - when I realized there were so many ridiculous not-so bon mots (uh, title of this blog, for example?) that I could divide them into categories. So today I present to you: The Top 10 Funniest, Strangest, Most Inappropriate Things Said During Diaper Changes in the Past 21 Months.
10. That's a carpet thread! It's still coming! Well, at least fiber is good for you.
9. Boy, do you ever chew anything?
8. Uh, you probably don't want to scratch it with that hair brush.
7. Good God, you gave birth to a baby's head!
6. All done. Now Mommy has to go throw up.
5. Keep yanking on it like that and you'll pull it right off.
4. Everybody, come look!
3. Good job wiping yourself... No! Take it out of your mouth!
2. Stop sticking your finger in there! What do you have, hemorrhoids?
1. Dude, what is with the constant boner?
There, I've said it, so you don't have to. Or, I've said it so you can lie and say you never have.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
New House, New Rules
Look, we know that at your age change does not come easy. Change doesn't come easy for us either. But this move was for the best - we all see that now. We all need to live together - if not in perfect Coca-Cola drinking harmony then at least something close to it. The best way to make this happen is to set down some ground rules. We know, we know...y'all don't care for rules much. But believe it or not following these simple rules will make you happier...really it will. So pay close attention, we're only going to tell you these rules one or two thousand times.
#1. Peepee, yes. Poppy, no.
Remember way long ago when we lived in Florida with Mama and Papa? Remember that big bathroom with the double sink and plenty of room in between for diaper changes and getting dressed after a bah? There was that closet with the cool bottles and towels and extra diapers; drawers with Deeya's hair curlers and blow dryer. Lots to see, lots to do, lots to throw into the toilet. And when we realized how happy you were - eyes all glisten-y, a smile on your lips - when we yelled "peepee!" and sat on the poppy we figured it was a win-win situation. You felt proud and we got to stick our hands in the poppy and destroy a whole roll of toilet paper when you weren't looking. Now here in Georgia we can't even see the bathroom from where we are. Sure, we each alerted to peepee when we first got here and dutifully sat on the poppy but that was a reconnaissance mission - just checking out the new facilities. And sorry to say, we are wholly unimpressed. There is nothing to do in this new bathroom except maybe peepee in the poppy and that is just not incentive enough to leave our nifty new playroom. So for the time being, we will be going back to crapping on ourselves. Oh, we will still lift our leg, grab our crotch and yell peepee! The way that makes you trip over yourself running to come get us - too much fun to give up. But don't bother taking us to the poppy - just grab a box of wipes and get to cleaning our arses.
#2. Bye-bye sow-sigh everyday.
Now that we are living in a place with a weeee! right in the backyard, we demand twice daily trips sow-sigh. Putting on our gocks then not taking us bye-bye is cruel and unusual. Cut it out. Oh we hear you say we need gocks because our feet are cold but we're not buying it. Why do you get to put on gocks and shoose then go bye-by sow-sigh while we are stuck inside? Just what is it are you doing out there, anyway?
#3. Su shoose es mi shoose.
You leave a whole row of shoose right outside our gate and you expect us to just ignore them? Not gonna happen folks. Every trip upstairs for bah or nigh-nigh will include a mandatory five minute detour for clickity-clacking in heels. Don't like it? Put those shoose someplace else then.
#4. Good MoooornIIIIIIING!
We will sleep 11.5 hours at night maximum no matter when you put us down for nigh-nigh. Had a rough day? We got on your nerves at dinner? (What's with that nostril thing you do, anyway? You oughta get that checked.) We didn't take a long enough bap this afternoon? Thinking of telling us nigh-nigh at 6pm? Do you know when we will wake up? Well, we don't because we can't tell time...and we can't count. But we suspect you won't be any happier the next morning. We, on the other hand, will be delighted. Bright eyed and bushy tailed and screaming out our joy for all the world to hear. That's what happens when you get that much sleep. Good for the body. Good for the soul. You should try it sometimes. Eh, there you go with that nostril thing again.
#1. Peepee, yes. Poppy, no.
Remember way long ago when we lived in Florida with Mama and Papa? Remember that big bathroom with the double sink and plenty of room in between for diaper changes and getting dressed after a bah? There was that closet with the cool bottles and towels and extra diapers; drawers with Deeya's hair curlers and blow dryer. Lots to see, lots to do, lots to throw into the toilet. And when we realized how happy you were - eyes all glisten-y, a smile on your lips - when we yelled "peepee!" and sat on the poppy we figured it was a win-win situation. You felt proud and we got to stick our hands in the poppy and destroy a whole roll of toilet paper when you weren't looking. Now here in Georgia we can't even see the bathroom from where we are. Sure, we each alerted to peepee when we first got here and dutifully sat on the poppy but that was a reconnaissance mission - just checking out the new facilities. And sorry to say, we are wholly unimpressed. There is nothing to do in this new bathroom except maybe peepee in the poppy and that is just not incentive enough to leave our nifty new playroom. So for the time being, we will be going back to crapping on ourselves. Oh, we will still lift our leg, grab our crotch and yell peepee! The way that makes you trip over yourself running to come get us - too much fun to give up. But don't bother taking us to the poppy - just grab a box of wipes and get to cleaning our arses.
#2. Bye-bye sow-sigh everyday.
Now that we are living in a place with a weeee! right in the backyard, we demand twice daily trips sow-sigh. Putting on our gocks then not taking us bye-bye is cruel and unusual. Cut it out. Oh we hear you say we need gocks because our feet are cold but we're not buying it. Why do you get to put on gocks and shoose then go bye-by sow-sigh while we are stuck inside? Just what is it are you doing out there, anyway?
#3. Su shoose es mi shoose.
You leave a whole row of shoose right outside our gate and you expect us to just ignore them? Not gonna happen folks. Every trip upstairs for bah or nigh-nigh will include a mandatory five minute detour for clickity-clacking in heels. Don't like it? Put those shoose someplace else then.
#4. Good MoooornIIIIIIING!
We will sleep 11.5 hours at night maximum no matter when you put us down for nigh-nigh. Had a rough day? We got on your nerves at dinner? (What's with that nostril thing you do, anyway? You oughta get that checked.) We didn't take a long enough bap this afternoon? Thinking of telling us nigh-nigh at 6pm? Do you know when we will wake up? Well, we don't because we can't tell time...and we can't count. But we suspect you won't be any happier the next morning. We, on the other hand, will be delighted. Bright eyed and bushy tailed and screaming out our joy for all the world to hear. That's what happens when you get that much sleep. Good for the body. Good for the soul. You should try it sometimes. Eh, there you go with that nostril thing again.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Thanksgiving Surprise
We have no special Thanksgiving traditions in my family. Every year we try to schedule dinner around the boys' football watching needs because we've given up trying to get them to see the family dinner as the centerpiece of the day. Sometimes after dinner we all caravan to a movie or maybe bowling. Sometimes we play board games. But always, always what our Thanksgivings are full of is laughter. We laugh long, we laugh hard, we laugh until someone shoots soda out of their nose.
The heartiest laugh we ever shared was during Thanksgiving dinner of 1992. I don't recall which of my siblings brought up the topic of "who is going to make Mom a grandmother first" but in hindsight clearly it was one of my three brothers. I was 20. My younger brothers were 14 and 16 and I thought it typical of boys that age to be uncontrollably giggly at conversation that even tangentially dealt with sex. My older brother laughed, I thought, because the younger boys laughed. He was 28.
My mom squirmed at first but then joined in on the fun. She and us girls laughed and laughed and then voted unanimously. Tricia would be the first to marry and have children. Auntie Tricia who just married six months ago at age 36. Auntie Tricia who says she and hubbie will wait at least a year before considering children.
A month after that laugh-filled dinner, the rest of the family was let in on the joke that had kept the boys guffawing. It came in the form of a knock on my bedroom door at 5:30am two days after Christmas. I was greeted in the absurdly early morning hour with words no big sister ever wants to hear from her 16 year old brother. "Um...um...can you drive me to Nyack Hospital? Um...uh....my girlfriend just had my baby." Because this is somewhat of a family blog, I will spare you my response.
Our Thanksgiving Surprise of 1992 is now 16 years old, the same age her Dad was when he became a baby daddy. We remained a one grandchild family until the arrival of the triplets last year but since I became pregnant during the summer months, I could not recreate the hilarious Thanksgiving non-announcement of 1992.
Last Thanksgiving, my sister's then boyfriend chose the moments after dinner to propose to her. So sweet. So much hootin' and hollerin'.
What surprises will be in store for us this year, I wonder?
Cousin Cree (a.k.a. Thanksgiving Surprise of '92) holding
The heartiest laugh we ever shared was during Thanksgiving dinner of 1992. I don't recall which of my siblings brought up the topic of "who is going to make Mom a grandmother first" but in hindsight clearly it was one of my three brothers. I was 20. My younger brothers were 14 and 16 and I thought it typical of boys that age to be uncontrollably giggly at conversation that even tangentially dealt with sex. My older brother laughed, I thought, because the younger boys laughed. He was 28.
My mom squirmed at first but then joined in on the fun. She and us girls laughed and laughed and then voted unanimously. Tricia would be the first to marry and have children. Auntie Tricia who just married six months ago at age 36. Auntie Tricia who says she and hubbie will wait at least a year before considering children.
A month after that laugh-filled dinner, the rest of the family was let in on the joke that had kept the boys guffawing. It came in the form of a knock on my bedroom door at 5:30am two days after Christmas. I was greeted in the absurdly early morning hour with words no big sister ever wants to hear from her 16 year old brother. "Um...um...can you drive me to Nyack Hospital? Um...uh....my girlfriend just had my baby." Because this is somewhat of a family blog, I will spare you my response.
Our Thanksgiving Surprise of 1992 is now 16 years old, the same age her Dad was when he became a baby daddy. We remained a one grandchild family until the arrival of the triplets last year but since I became pregnant during the summer months, I could not recreate the hilarious Thanksgiving non-announcement of 1992.
Last Thanksgiving, my sister's then boyfriend chose the moments after dinner to propose to her. So sweet. So much hootin' and hollerin'.
What surprises will be in store for us this year, I wonder?
Cousin Cree (a.k.a. Thanksgiving Surprise of '92) holding Swoosh at last year's T-Day celebration.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Papa?
This past May we spent two weeks here in Atlanta for Aunt Tricia's wedding. On the first night, Grandpa could not find the small blue bag where he had packed his medicines. Search, search, search all through the bedroom where he and Grandma were staying and nothing. The next morning I found it on the kitchen counter crammed behind all sorts of other miscellany that accumulates quickly when eight extra people descend on a house. He got upset and wanted to know why someone hid his medicine.
A few weeks ago I drove to the Orlando Airport to pick up Grandpa who had been out of town attending a funeral. After an hour's worth of driving around, sitting in the cellphone parking lot taking pictures of pelicans, and getting nonsensical information from him as to where he was in the airport and what he was doing, I parked the car and went in to get him. We ended up leaving the airport two hours after his plane had arrived. A miscommunication, he said.
Earlier this year, before I got my van, Grandpa agreed one day to drive Blue and me to a doctor's appointment. He got into the driver's seat of his old Mercedes and waited while I stood behind him buckling Blue into his car seat. Suddenly, while I was still ducked in the back fiddling with the harnesses, the car started to slowly back out of the garage. I screamed. Grandpa looked back at me, chuckled and said, "It's a good thing you have such a loud voice." In the twenty seconds it had been since he got into the driver's seat he had forgotten Blue and I were there.
Grandpa has Alzheimer's. We'd known for some time that his memory was not the best but he is 84 years old. And besides, even I lose my keys, forget the date, and mix-up Blue and Swoosh's names from time to time. But this is not just old age forgetfulness. A couple weeks before we left Florida, his doctor told him to turn all paperwork responsibility and his car keys over to Grandma. And if he had any words of importance to say to anyone in his life, any thing he needed written down, anything of importance to accomplish to do it now before it was too late. Grandpa didn't sleep a wink for days after that.
It saddens me terribly to see this happening to such an amazing man. But I am so grateful for the ten months that the triplets got to experience their Papa everyday. His silliness, his French lullabies, his louder than loud organ playing.
Grandpa helped to pack our van the day we left, pulling out a ladder to tie the cribs down to the roof of the van. When I came out to the car after one last check of the house, he was bent into the back talking to the triplets. He waved when he was done, turning away from me so I wouldn't see him cry.
Since we've been in Atlanta this week, the triplets call out "Papa?" whenever they see a white haired older gentleman. And I know he is the one they remember and miss most of all.
I had wanted to leave for Atlanta after Thanksgiving so that grandma and grandpa would not have to make the long drive to Atlanta in a car that is on its last wheels, spending money for gas that they don't have. But my worry about the triplets' safety in that house that was never meant to house active toddlers had reached fever pitch. And grandma said finally she could not help to take care of three little ones and a quickly fading old man, too. So my sister and I will foot the bill for the Thanksgiving meal and all the trimmings and my brothers will get together and see what they can do about getting Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Dyna up here for what I hope and pray will not be the last Thanksgiving that Papa is Papa.
A few weeks ago I drove to the Orlando Airport to pick up Grandpa who had been out of town attending a funeral. After an hour's worth of driving around, sitting in the cellphone parking lot taking pictures of pelicans, and getting nonsensical information from him as to where he was in the airport and what he was doing, I parked the car and went in to get him. We ended up leaving the airport two hours after his plane had arrived. A miscommunication, he said.
Earlier this year, before I got my van, Grandpa agreed one day to drive Blue and me to a doctor's appointment. He got into the driver's seat of his old Mercedes and waited while I stood behind him buckling Blue into his car seat. Suddenly, while I was still ducked in the back fiddling with the harnesses, the car started to slowly back out of the garage. I screamed. Grandpa looked back at me, chuckled and said, "It's a good thing you have such a loud voice." In the twenty seconds it had been since he got into the driver's seat he had forgotten Blue and I were there.
Grandpa has Alzheimer's. We'd known for some time that his memory was not the best but he is 84 years old. And besides, even I lose my keys, forget the date, and mix-up Blue and Swoosh's names from time to time. But this is not just old age forgetfulness. A couple weeks before we left Florida, his doctor told him to turn all paperwork responsibility and his car keys over to Grandma. And if he had any words of importance to say to anyone in his life, any thing he needed written down, anything of importance to accomplish to do it now before it was too late. Grandpa didn't sleep a wink for days after that.
It saddens me terribly to see this happening to such an amazing man. But I am so grateful for the ten months that the triplets got to experience their Papa everyday. His silliness, his French lullabies, his louder than loud organ playing.
Grandpa helped to pack our van the day we left, pulling out a ladder to tie the cribs down to the roof of the van. When I came out to the car after one last check of the house, he was bent into the back talking to the triplets. He waved when he was done, turning away from me so I wouldn't see him cry.
Since we've been in Atlanta this week, the triplets call out "Papa?" whenever they see a white haired older gentleman. And I know he is the one they remember and miss most of all.
I had wanted to leave for Atlanta after Thanksgiving so that grandma and grandpa would not have to make the long drive to Atlanta in a car that is on its last wheels, spending money for gas that they don't have. But my worry about the triplets' safety in that house that was never meant to house active toddlers had reached fever pitch. And grandma said finally she could not help to take care of three little ones and a quickly fading old man, too. So my sister and I will foot the bill for the Thanksgiving meal and all the trimmings and my brothers will get together and see what they can do about getting Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Dyna up here for what I hope and pray will not be the last Thanksgiving that Papa is Papa.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Off the road....again
The triplets and I are no longer in Florida. We moved to Atlanta and have been here four days. The plan was originally to move after Thanksgiving but things were getting just too hairy at Grandma's....more on that in a later post. So much else to blog about as well including our hilarious Halloween, the boys' new sorta-bald do, our 516 mile adventure to Georgia, and my decision to nix spanking from my (now empty) bag of discipline tactics. Oh yeah, that last one is gonna be much blogged about...gonna need some help on that one folks. Is there a 12-step group for Mommies Who Would Be Spankers But Think They've Changed Their Minds? And what might the first step in that program be? Admitting We Are Now Totally Screwed? Ahhhh....more on all that later.
For now, I'd like to introduce everyone to the triplets' new housemates. There is Uncle Chris, my brother-in-law - a giant teddy of a guy who, thanks to his job driving unruly schoolchildren around all day, has perfected "the look" and can get the triplets' attention so much better than Mommy can. There is Tatie E, my perfectionist cousin who has graciously accepted the fact that 7am might no longer be her wake-up time and who, I am sure, is now stepping up her house buying efforts. Tatie E is actually Cousin Emmanuella but try getting the triplets to say that. Then there is the grand dame of the house - my sister, Aunt Tricia. Aunt Tricia is without a doubt the nicest sibling in our family but thanks to her running a daycare center out of this home for almost four years, the triplets seem to think she is the scariest. Because of the recession, Aunt Tricia shuttered the daycare at the end of September to look for a "real job" but the daycare area is still set up meaning the triplets now have an honest-to-goodness child safe play area. The only stove and dishwasher for them to get into is the one on the Little Tykes playcenter. It could be days - days, I tell you - before my trio destroys this room.
For now, I'd like to introduce everyone to the triplets' new housemates. There is Uncle Chris, my brother-in-law - a giant teddy of a guy who, thanks to his job driving unruly schoolchildren around all day, has perfected "the look" and can get the triplets' attention so much better than Mommy can. There is Tatie E, my perfectionist cousin who has graciously accepted the fact that 7am might no longer be her wake-up time and who, I am sure, is now stepping up her house buying efforts. Tatie E is actually Cousin Emmanuella but try getting the triplets to say that. Then there is the grand dame of the house - my sister, Aunt Tricia. Aunt Tricia is without a doubt the nicest sibling in our family but thanks to her running a daycare center out of this home for almost four years, the triplets seem to think she is the scariest. Because of the recession, Aunt Tricia shuttered the daycare at the end of September to look for a "real job" but the daycare area is still set up meaning the triplets now have an honest-to-goodness child safe play area. The only stove and dishwasher for them to get into is the one on the Little Tykes playcenter. It could be days - days, I tell you - before my trio destroys this room.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Be on the Lookout
7:30pm Saturday
Chief of Police of Tripletville is asking your help tonight in apprehending a tiny person believed to have committed a mildly violent yet thoroughly unprovoked attack on a stunned victim. The Chief, who also goes by the name "Papa," said that at about 7:15pm tonight the suspect was being carried to his cell by the victim when he suddenly arched his back, let out an ear piercing scream, and dug his nails into the victim's neck. Startled, the victim, who also answers to the names "WAAAHHHHHH!" and "Mommy," set down the suspect who then proceeded to scale a 2 foot high gate and disappear down a darkened corridor.
The suspect is described as an African-American male with the cutest curly brown afro, stunning green eyes, and slight knock-knees. He stands approximately 32 inches tall and weighs 24.5 pounds. He was last seen dressed in an adorable gray and red striped cotton jumper and white socks. The suspect answers to the names "Blue," "Lala," "Houdini," and "Jeeee-sus noooooo, put that down!"
Police are warning the public not to approach the suspect as he is armed with 8 teeth and is not afraid to use them. If any citizen is cornered by the suspect they are asked to remain calm, do not make eye contact, protect all body parts below the knees, and distract the suspect by singing "Ring around the Rosey" forty or fifty or sixty times until help arrives or the citizen is rendered insane.
The police have set out traps along the perimeter of Tripletville with items that the suspect finds irresistible. The traps include a television remote control, a cellular telephone, an electric socket, several cubes of cheese, seedless green grapes cut in half, and some random bits of crap. The Chief announced that the search will be called off at precisely 9:30pm as the victim reports that the suspect has not been able to remain conscious past that point for several months now.
The public is to rest assured that no harm will come to them after 9:30pm but are to remain alert in the early morning hours as the suspect is known to come to at precisely 4:26am to make certain unreasonable demands of "WAAAHHHHHH!" If anyone hears this call to "WAAHHHHHH!" they are instructed to roll a sippy cup of milk (lactose free only) to the suspect, toss him a size 4 Luvs diaper, and contact "WAAHHHHHH" immediately.
Your cooperation is appreciated.
Chief of Police of Tripletville is asking your help tonight in apprehending a tiny person believed to have committed a mildly violent yet thoroughly unprovoked attack on a stunned victim. The Chief, who also goes by the name "Papa," said that at about 7:15pm tonight the suspect was being carried to his cell by the victim when he suddenly arched his back, let out an ear piercing scream, and dug his nails into the victim's neck. Startled, the victim, who also answers to the names "WAAAHHHHHH!" and "Mommy," set down the suspect who then proceeded to scale a 2 foot high gate and disappear down a darkened corridor.
The suspect is described as an African-American male with the cutest curly brown afro, stunning green eyes, and slight knock-knees. He stands approximately 32 inches tall and weighs 24.5 pounds. He was last seen dressed in an adorable gray and red striped cotton jumper and white socks. The suspect answers to the names "Blue," "Lala," "Houdini," and "Jeeee-sus noooooo, put that down!"
Police are warning the public not to approach the suspect as he is armed with 8 teeth and is not afraid to use them. If any citizen is cornered by the suspect they are asked to remain calm, do not make eye contact, protect all body parts below the knees, and distract the suspect by singing "Ring around the Rosey" forty or fifty or sixty times until help arrives or the citizen is rendered insane.
The police have set out traps along the perimeter of Tripletville with items that the suspect finds irresistible. The traps include a television remote control, a cellular telephone, an electric socket, several cubes of cheese, seedless green grapes cut in half, and some random bits of crap. The Chief announced that the search will be called off at precisely 9:30pm as the victim reports that the suspect has not been able to remain conscious past that point for several months now.
The public is to rest assured that no harm will come to them after 9:30pm but are to remain alert in the early morning hours as the suspect is known to come to at precisely 4:26am to make certain unreasonable demands of "WAAAHHHHHH!" If anyone hears this call to "WAAHHHHHH!" they are instructed to roll a sippy cup of milk (lactose free only) to the suspect, toss him a size 4 Luvs diaper, and contact "WAAHHHHHH" immediately.
Your cooperation is appreciated.
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