Monday, 20 October 2014

Public Kindergarten Cop Moments

Most of us remember that little boy from Kindergarten Cop who was giving Arnold Schwarzenegger anatomy lessons. "Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina!". It's still funny to this day. Funny that is, unless it's your child and you're the one being given the anatomy lesson in public.

Everett and Brody had recently learned this little anatomy lesson and their views on how boys were boys and girls were girls were a little off. The boys even went so far as to telling me that I was a bad boy and my penis fell off. Apparently, in my kids' minds, all girls are just evil little boys whose penises have fallen off. I guess I was evil enough that my penis fell off when I was quite young, I find it ironic that I bore 3 boys whose penises remained very much intact, despite their corrupt mother! Oh, the irony. Let's just say, I put the quash on that little rumour real quick. Kudos to their imagination with regard to gender determination.

One afternoon, I took Brody grocery shopping. It was pretty busy at the checkout, so Brody helped me put some things on the conveyor belt while he sat proudly at the front of the cart, facing me. Our cashier was male, as was the bag boy. They started to check us through as the elderly lady behind us commented on how cute and helpful Brody was.

While I thanked her, my son, very matter-of-factly, started pointing at people. "I HAVE A PENIS, HE HAS A PENIS, HE HAS A PENIS, YOU HAVE A VAGINA AND SHE HAS A VAGINA!". You know, those times when it seems EVERYBODY in the grocery store heard. The cashier and bag boy started laughing hysterically as the elderly lady blushed and sighed out: "Oh dear". All I could do was reply: "Well, he's not wrong!", as I paid for the groceries.

Unlike Arnold Schwarzenegger, these public Kindergarten Cop moments definitely won't make you feel like saying: "I'll be back"!

Wednesday, 8 January 2014

The Elf on the Shelf Offs Himself

Unless you've been living under a rock this past Holiday season, you've been affected by the Elf on the Shelf saga. Our family was no different, naming our little guy Buddy, after the famous Elf movie that our kids love so much.

Buddy had been doing a very good job of keeping watch over our boys, evil as they may be! Santa's poor little helper must have wondered what he had done in the workshop to deserve being sent here. Sure, the house looks warm and welcoming to a sleigh parked outside, but inside lurks the spawn of Satan.

Bedtime was a very busy reporting time for Buddy. Everett and Brody refused to go to sleep and long distance calls to Santa were the norm every night. Try as we may to threaten that Buddy would have them put on the naughty list if they didn't behave, the stubborn little boys continued to push Buddy's limits.

We tried telling them that Buddy would get into trouble with Santa Claus, possibly fired if they kept being bad. Some nights it worked, but most times those kids had no remorse for actions of terror. We began to wonder how much more that poor elf could take.

After a particularly bad bedtime episode, Justin and I were exhausted! Brian was at work and it was getting to be very late. Christmas Eve was coming and the boys had gotten a call from Santa warning them that if they weren't better at bedtime, there would be coal in their stockings.

I hung up the phone and Justin and I headed down to the main floor to try and regain our sanity. What we found when we looked toward the fireplace would haunt us forever!!!

Buddy had hung himself by the chimney with care!!!! Well, we figured the Champoolliams family just crushed Buddy's spirit. He probably felt like a failure because no matter how hard he tried, he could not get the evil boys to change their ways. We found it particularly ironic that he leapt to his death from the ornament of JOY, the symbolism was not lost on us. Joy must have been the last thing on Buddy's mind if he felt he had no other way out.

Justin and I took him down, tried our best to bring him back, to no avail! The Elf on the Shelf offed himself and there was nothing we could do. We said a few words in his honour and made sure the smaller kids didn't find out about how they had crushed Santa's Helper's poor little soul! We perched him in the Christmas tree the next night, hoping the kids wouldn't notice the ligature marks around his neck.

RIP Buddy, hopefully they will send a stronger-willed Elf next year!

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Beat It Funky Brody!

Well, it's been quite a while since I have posted and we will go back to a story that I should have let you in on at Christmas time. I will no longer neglect this blog as I have been threatened with physical violence if I do so again! 

So we begin.....again!! 

We were on our way to drop Justin off at his football banquet last December when Beat It (by the late Michael Jackson) was playing on the radio. Everett immediately told me that MJ was swearing and that we should turn off the song. I told Everett that the song didn't have any swear words in it, but he said I was wrong, that he kept hearing the F word. I immediately corrected him and told him that the line was "showin' how FUNKY, strong is your fight". The smaller kids still thought I was trying to pull a fast one on them, so Everett asked me to explain the meaning of the word "funky, if it really is a word". 

I explained what the word meant and the boys seemed satisfied with my explanation. We dropped Justin off and decided to go do some shopping for Christmas decorations at Michael's. We got there and Brody was content to get into a cart that I was pushing, while Everett walked around. Now, Michael's is busy on your average Saturday, but a Saturday three weeks prior to Christmas is absolute mayhem!We got what we needed and headed toward the cash registers. We had a while to wait, as the line up was quite long. Everett started asking for colouring books by the tills and Brian and I were trying to keep the boys from having meltdowns. 

All of a sudden, out of the clear blue sky, Brody shouted: "Mommy, am I in a FUCKIN cart???" Why is it that kids talk with super loud voices that everybody else hears? Why did it have to be Christmas time with what seemed like a million people cramped into one store. Why did Brian and I turn beet red, wondering if we'd heard him correctly? Of course we heard right, so had EVERYBODY ELSE in the entire store!! When Brian asked if Brody had just said what he thought he said, the nice people in frond AND in back of us were nice enough to tell us that they had heard the F bomb too.

I tried to do some damage control by explaining the Michael-Jackson-in-the-van-saying-funky-story, surely they would understand that we weren't the most horrible parents in the world. The lady in back of us was nice enough to tell us that her daughter teaches her grandson all kinds of bad words, so she had heard it all before. The lady in front of us said that if I was making that story up to save face, I sure was able to do it quickly and accurately. People around us were snickering, but it lightened the mood that Christmas shopping mentality can bring. 

Next time the kids tell me that a word they heard is a bad word, I should just shut my FUNKY mouth and believe them!!! 

Thursday, 10 January 2013

Border Line Kidnapping

A little while ago, we took the boys to Washington State for some fun and cross-border shopping. Brian's brother and his family were with us, so we split our group into two vehicles. Kevin and his children had to leave, but we stayed to do some more shopping. Approximately two hours after Kevin left, Brian realized that he had left his and Everett's documents in the glove compartment of Kevin's car. FOR SHAME!!

We were not feeling very confident that we would just be able to roll back into Canada. How were we going to prove that we were not kidnapping a small child? We made a plan with Kevin to meet in case we needed the papers, but it wouldn't be for another 2 hours. It was getting late, stores were closing and the kids were getting cranky. We packed up the big brown van and headed for the long border line-up.

We figured we would try to get back, Kevin only lived 15 minutes away from the border crossing. We tried our best to not look like criminals as we pulled up to the window, hoping the guard would be in a very good mood. We explained our situation, I decided to keep my joking comments to myself. This was proving to be quite difficult as most of you know, I tend to use humour as a defence mechanism.

Brian very calmly explained his idiocy on this day, and offered to call up his brother if we needed to pull off to the side. We could wait there until Kevin came with the birth certificate, he explained in his most Captainly fashion. The border guard asked us if he could just have a word with Everett, who was sleeping soundly in his car seat. The poor guard had no idea what he was getting himself into when he opened Everett's door to try and have a chat with him.

We explained that Everett is very difficult to wake, the guard was very patient. He roused Everett from his peaceful dreams of his real-mom-from-Africa and swearing trees to ask him what we thought would be some simple questions.

"Hey buddy, what's your name?", asked the border guard.
Everett growled and turned his head.
This happened a couple more times.
Everett opened his eyes, so the guard asked him: "Hey little guy, is your name Everett?"

"NNNNNOOOOOO", yelled Everett, at which point Brian and I just laughed nervously.

"Is that your Dad. buddy?"

"I DON'T KNOW!!!" he screamed and turned his head away.

Brian and I were convinced that the car was about to be surrounded while they called Child Protective Services on us.

Luckily, our new border guard friend (and hero) had a sense of humour. He just shut the van door, laughed his head off and said:

"Well, you guys have got yourselves a great story to tell when he gets married, good luck with this one!"

He was totally laughing at our expense, we couldn't be happier about it!! We knew that could have gone in a very different direction.

"Thanks for not calling Child Services or throwing us in jail ", I replied.

Phewwww, that was some Border line (not borderline) kidnapping, get the pun now?

Friday, 11 May 2012

A Strange Form of Support

In the last few months, I've been on a diet to try and shed some pounds. The other day, I was reading Everett a story on the couch, when I leaned forward to get my glass of water. Once I leaned back next to Everett, he started giggling and said "Mommy, I just saw your bum".

Trying my darndest to explain weight loss to a 4 year old, I ended it by saying: "So, that's why Mommy's pants don't fit anymore".

At this point, Everett got off the couch and stood in front of me with his hands on his hips.

With a look of what I can only assume was disgust, he told me: "Mommy, you need to buy new pants, because I  REALLY don't want to see your bum EVER AGAIN".

Somebody give me some Aloe Vera, cause I just got burned!!!

Ahhhh....the somewhat encouraging wisdom of a small child :)

Friday, 20 April 2012

The F Word

Justin and I had gone to pick up the two younger boys from the daycare, securing them tightly into their car seats. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, Everett asked me: "Mommy, is fuckin' a bad word?".

I, of course, let him know (as calmly as possible) that it was a bad word and for him not to repeat it. I then inquired as to where he would have picked up this bad word. Without missing a beat, he told me "From the trees". At this point, Justin started to laugh his head off, adding fuel to the F Word flame. Brody kept yelling "fuckin' a bad word?, fuckin' a bad word?", all the while giggling. Justin and Everett kept laughing, and I tried to get the vein in my forehead not to pop all over the dashboard. 

Once I calmed them down, I told Everett I knew he did not pick up this word from the trees. If he had, we might be looking into some deep rooted (pun intended) issues. He hasn't repeated it since, I have to assume the trees have fallen silent. This begs the question: If a tree says fuckin in the forest, does a little Everett hear??

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Right Idea, Wrong Execution

A couple of years ago, we were enjoying a very nice evening at home. I had made a lovely dinner of seafood linguine, that all of the family members just love. We were all in the middle of dinner when Everett announced that he had to go to the potty.

He had been doing very well in the training thus far, no accidents in quite some time. So well, in fact, that we decided to try and let him do this one on his own. Brian told him that he could go ahead and pee and come back so that he could continue eating his dinner. Away he went, and we just went about our lovely dinner conversation, waiting for the call to wash some little angel's hands. 

Everett sauntered back to the dining room, leaving his pants and underwear on the bathroom floor. He gingerly placed the bowl that Brody had discarded from his high chair onto the dining room table. He put it between Brian and I, looked from one to the other and exclaimed in the sweetest voice: "I peed in this bowl". 

Well, we thought he was lying, but it turns out that bowl was pretty warm. We were quite torn; we were proud that he'd done the job on his own, but less than thrilled with the execution of the task. Cue the laughter, of course. We may be the world's worst parents for discipline, but these kids are just too funny for their (and our) own good! Everett, on the other hand, was quite proud of his accomplishment. His big brother, Justin, just laughed and laughed. Well, I guess we all did. That was definitely putting the ass in a classy dinner!!!

                               (not my pasta, but close enough)