Parker and posteriors. Not only do I catch him singing about them, but I also overheard this conversation with his cousin, Heath, tonight.
Parker: "Heath, do you want to hear a potty word?"
Me: "No."
Parker (ignoring me): "Maximus gluteus." (He meant to say gluteus maximus. It was a half, half...something attempt at a large word.)
Heath, unimpressed: "That's not a potty word."
Parker, giggling: "Yes it is! It's the science word for 'butt.'"
What a proud mommy moment. My child's first attempt at speaking Latin.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Alone Time
Parker got home from school and announced, "Mom, I need some alone time. I'm going to go sit on a rock and eat some M&M's that Jenni Thomas sent me."
O.k. After a half an hour I decided the M&M's were probably gone and went to check on Parker. I found him scootering down the sidewalk full speed, singing at top volume a Queen song. He loves Queen and listens to Chris's cd constantly. The song he had chosen to sing was "Fat-Bottomed Girls." As he came closer I could hear that he had misunderstood the lyrics. He scootered towards me, grinning, singing, "Black-bottomed girls you make my rocking world go round."
O.k. After a half an hour I decided the M&M's were probably gone and went to check on Parker. I found him scootering down the sidewalk full speed, singing at top volume a Queen song. He loves Queen and listens to Chris's cd constantly. The song he had chosen to sing was "Fat-Bottomed Girls." As he came closer I could hear that he had misunderstood the lyrics. He scootered towards me, grinning, singing, "Black-bottomed girls you make my rocking world go round."
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Family Pictures from Hell
Today was family pictures day. I had carefully planned everything, so that we could have a positive experience and replace our current hideous family photo with something better. I picked the perfect time, 11:00. Enough time to let everyone get enough sleep, eat a good breakfast, and get beautiful, but also before the hungry lunchtime sleepy nap time crash. I requested our favorite photographer, pulled the outfits I wanted everyone to wear out of their closets (including Chris's) a week in advance so they wouldn't get worn. Ironing was even involved. (Of course not by me. I don't iron. Thank you, hubby.)
We still managed to be running late, so we started out a little grumpy. However, I got to the studio fifteen minutes late only to discover they had no record of the appointment I had made. This despite the fact the photographer, who's in our ward, vividly remembered booking it. They told us they could still take our pictures in about fifteen to twenty minutes. So we waited it out. At which point Deacon decided to pass the time by filling his diaper. I sent Chris out to the van for a diaper and wipes, and he returned with a diaper and three dried up wipes, one of which looked like it had already been used to wipe a dirty face. I attempted to change the diaper, but I had a few things going against me. One, Deacon decided to put his hand in the diaper and smear poo on his pants; and two this was not an ordinary three wipe diaper, but rather a seven plus wipe diaper. I ended up begging wipes off a total stranger in the restroom.
Then I returned to the studio where we continued to wait for an hour and a half! I thought about leaving, but I kept on thinking about all the effort required to dress my children and get them out the door, so I continued to wait. By the time we finally got back to get our pictures taken, everyone was hungry, tired, and super grumpy. Deacon kept walking out of the family photo. Parker wanted to lay down and go to sleep. McKay refused to move anywhere where the photographer told her to go. And Chris and I look livid. As we looked through the proofs, there was not a single photo where at least one person wasn't glaring angrily at the photographer. In a way it was hilarious to look through them. So we selected the least hideous picture, which is in all honesty, truly awful, and got out of there. But not before I spoke to the manager.
Apparently I'm slightly assertive or something. The other day Chris asked me why I wasn't better friends with someone in the ward, and I said, "She's too sweet and kind and meek."
"Yeah, she's nothing like you then," he replied reflexively.
"What are you saying? That I'm not kind?"
"Well, it's not the first word I would have picked."
"What would you have picked?"
"Strong-willed. Assertive. Self-confident. Opinionated. I don't think meek would have made the top one hundred."
So my assertiveness came out. I asked to speak to the manager. Then I asked her what kind of discount she was going to give me for making my family wait ninety minutes. (In a sweet, kind way. Really.) She told me she couldn't do anything because I wasn't in the computer. "Hmm," I told her, "since I made an appointment, and you still don't have me in the computer, please explain to me how that's my fault."
So to make a long story, slightly shorter, I got a 10x13, two 8x10's, a sheet of 5x7's, 3 x5's, and 2 wallets all for $4.99! All of a family photo I hate! But the best news--we don't have to do this again for one whole year! Yippee!
We still managed to be running late, so we started out a little grumpy. However, I got to the studio fifteen minutes late only to discover they had no record of the appointment I had made. This despite the fact the photographer, who's in our ward, vividly remembered booking it. They told us they could still take our pictures in about fifteen to twenty minutes. So we waited it out. At which point Deacon decided to pass the time by filling his diaper. I sent Chris out to the van for a diaper and wipes, and he returned with a diaper and three dried up wipes, one of which looked like it had already been used to wipe a dirty face. I attempted to change the diaper, but I had a few things going against me. One, Deacon decided to put his hand in the diaper and smear poo on his pants; and two this was not an ordinary three wipe diaper, but rather a seven plus wipe diaper. I ended up begging wipes off a total stranger in the restroom.
Then I returned to the studio where we continued to wait for an hour and a half! I thought about leaving, but I kept on thinking about all the effort required to dress my children and get them out the door, so I continued to wait. By the time we finally got back to get our pictures taken, everyone was hungry, tired, and super grumpy. Deacon kept walking out of the family photo. Parker wanted to lay down and go to sleep. McKay refused to move anywhere where the photographer told her to go. And Chris and I look livid. As we looked through the proofs, there was not a single photo where at least one person wasn't glaring angrily at the photographer. In a way it was hilarious to look through them. So we selected the least hideous picture, which is in all honesty, truly awful, and got out of there. But not before I spoke to the manager.
Apparently I'm slightly assertive or something. The other day Chris asked me why I wasn't better friends with someone in the ward, and I said, "She's too sweet and kind and meek."
"Yeah, she's nothing like you then," he replied reflexively.
"What are you saying? That I'm not kind?"
"Well, it's not the first word I would have picked."
"What would you have picked?"
"Strong-willed. Assertive. Self-confident. Opinionated. I don't think meek would have made the top one hundred."
So my assertiveness came out. I asked to speak to the manager. Then I asked her what kind of discount she was going to give me for making my family wait ninety minutes. (In a sweet, kind way. Really.) She told me she couldn't do anything because I wasn't in the computer. "Hmm," I told her, "since I made an appointment, and you still don't have me in the computer, please explain to me how that's my fault."
So to make a long story, slightly shorter, I got a 10x13, two 8x10's, a sheet of 5x7's, 3 x5's, and 2 wallets all for $4.99! All of a family photo I hate! But the best news--we don't have to do this again for one whole year! Yippee!
Monday, October 12, 2009
McKay's Perceptions
Yesterday McKay asks me, "How does Jesus go from heaven to earth?"
Me: "We don't really know."
Parker: "I think he takes a highway...a highway to heaven."
Chris: "Only Michael Landon takes that highway."
McKay: "I know the answer! He has faith."
Oh, thank you, McKay for putting us all in our place. I guess I'll have to believe you know what your talking about. So this next comment I heard from her in church must be true.
McKay pats my neck and says, "Mom, your neck is the most beautiful part of your whole body." Well, I guess I knew stomach wasn't going to be a contender for the number one spot.
Me: "We don't really know."
Parker: "I think he takes a highway...a highway to heaven."
Chris: "Only Michael Landon takes that highway."
McKay: "I know the answer! He has faith."
Oh, thank you, McKay for putting us all in our place. I guess I'll have to believe you know what your talking about. So this next comment I heard from her in church must be true.
McKay pats my neck and says, "Mom, your neck is the most beautiful part of your whole body." Well, I guess I knew stomach wasn't going to be a contender for the number one spot.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Swine Flu
Parker is sick, and I think he has the swine flu. I don't know for sure, because I did not take him to a doctor. Doctors charge money to tell you your child has the swine flu, please take him home and put him to bed. Being perpetually poor, we skipped the doctor step, because we have something better and free--the Internet. Bless you WebMD, my family's other doctor. I went down the list of symptoms with Parker, and the poor kid had almost all of them. Since the swine flu is going around Parker's school and the ward, I was pretty sure I had accurately diagnosed him.
Now saying your child has the swine flu sounds much worse than saying your child has any old common variety of flu. It makes me sound like an amazing mom to have weathered the swine flu virus, when in all actuality I just kept the Tylenol and fluids down Parker and changed the DVDs every 90 minutes.
And now why I love being Mormon. My neighbor, Makenna, knocked on my door this morning asking for a ride to school. I told her I couldn't give her one, because Parker was sick, possibly with the swine flu. Ten minutes later I get a phone call from my next door neighbor, "I hear Parker has the swine flu. What can I do?" (Thank you, Makenna.) One hour later I get a call from my visiting teaching companion. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Do you need some soup or something?" A few hours later our home teacher and his wife knock on our door with homemade spice cake in hand. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Here's some cake. What do you need?" I told no one from the ward that Parker was sick, but by the end of the day everyone knows. I love that. And I love cake. Poor Parker is too sick to eat any. But someone's got to eat it. And I did just do sixteen minutes and 38 seconds of "Dance of the Inches: Tummy Tone Party Zone" before I got sick of it and turned it off. I'll just add that to the job description of mother of swine flu patient--Tylenol dispenser, DVD switcher, cake eater. I've got this covered.
Now saying your child has the swine flu sounds much worse than saying your child has any old common variety of flu. It makes me sound like an amazing mom to have weathered the swine flu virus, when in all actuality I just kept the Tylenol and fluids down Parker and changed the DVDs every 90 minutes.
And now why I love being Mormon. My neighbor, Makenna, knocked on my door this morning asking for a ride to school. I told her I couldn't give her one, because Parker was sick, possibly with the swine flu. Ten minutes later I get a phone call from my next door neighbor, "I hear Parker has the swine flu. What can I do?" (Thank you, Makenna.) One hour later I get a call from my visiting teaching companion. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Do you need some soup or something?" A few hours later our home teacher and his wife knock on our door with homemade spice cake in hand. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Here's some cake. What do you need?" I told no one from the ward that Parker was sick, but by the end of the day everyone knows. I love that. And I love cake. Poor Parker is too sick to eat any. But someone's got to eat it. And I did just do sixteen minutes and 38 seconds of "Dance of the Inches: Tummy Tone Party Zone" before I got sick of it and turned it off. I'll just add that to the job description of mother of swine flu patient--Tylenol dispenser, DVD switcher, cake eater. I've got this covered.
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