Friday, January 28, 2011

Save Me

I was just coming here to tell you all how little kid said, "I love Jesus and I love my mommy. But not in that order because Jesus doesn't make me chicken nuggets."

Isn't that adorable?

Well, yeah. Two minutes later I tuned in (because he talks ALL DAY LONG, I have to tune in and out to save my sanity) and heard him singing, "Ashley the mommy is a very bitchy bitch. She's a bitchy bitch, she's a bitchy bitch, she's a bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch."

(Which is actually kind of catchy but clearly inappropriate for a 4-year-old.)

At first I didn't think that's what he was really saying because I didn't think he knew that word or at least wouldn't be able to use it in context but as soon as I asked him about it, he swore he was singing, "Ashley the mommy, I love her love her love her," which obviously sounds nothing like "bitchy bitchy bitch."

Now he's crying and screaming because I've insulted him by pointing out that "I love her love her love her" sounds nothing like what he was singing previously and he's going in his room and closing the door until I come apologize. But he's doing this all very loudly so it doesn't benefit me at all.

I don't think he'd pull this kind of crap on Jesus.

edited to add: He later claimed he was singing "Ashley the mommy, I love her to bits bits bitsy bits," which seems plausible and a more likely story than he could come up with on his own. So maybe I do owe him an apology but I think he fell asleep in there so I might just enjoy the peace and quiet instead.

(Maybe I am a bitchy bitch bitch bitch.)

Monday, January 24, 2011

Pretty Rude

The other night we went out to dinner and as we were waiting for a table an elderly man passed by and little kid exclaimed, "Wow, he's old!"

I sternly reminded him of our rule about not making comments on how people look; I know he is familiar with this rule because I drilled it into his head recently after he shouted "That is one fat mama!" when he saw an obese lady on a scooter at Walmart.

"Do not make comments on people's appearance!" I hissed at him once the elderly man had passed.

"Don't talk 'bout people's parents? I not sayin' nuttin' about his parents! He prob'bly doesn't even have parents!"

"Appearance! How people look. Don't comment on it."

We sat in silence for about 2 minutes until the next guy walked by.

"That's one cool lookin' dude," little kid said loudly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

"I told you not to say anything about how people look!" I said, exasperated with him.

"Even when it's somethin' good? That was a cool lookin' dude! He looked all awesome."

"No, not at all. Just don't say anything about anyone."

"Well now you're the one bein' rude. 'Cuz that's pretty rude not to tell someone they're lookin' awesome."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Same but Different

Living with little kid is like living under the same roof as a jealous lover. He angrily told an affectionate Mr. Ashley last night to "Get your hands off my mudder!" and can't stand to even watch me snuggle the dog. If Big Kid comes within a five foot radius of me, little kid is squirming between us and yelling "Don't touch my mommy! She's mine!" despite my reminders that I was Big Kid's mom first and that I love them both equally.

While I put makeup on, he stands in the bathroom and talks about how beautiful I am and sighs, "I love your hair," while I style it. He frequently calls me Princess Mommy or My Most Beautiful Mama. He's also changed the words to Sublime's "What I Got" from "Lovin' is what I got," to "Mama is what I got, I said remember that! Mama is what I got. That's why I don't cry when my dog runs away, don't get angry 'bout the bills I have to pay..." luckily he doesn't remember the rest so he just sings that part over and over again. I like it a lot.

This morning while we were snuggling in bed, he asked, "Mama, who do you love more, me or daddy?"

"Oh, quit this. You're not in competition with your dad, little kid."

"Yeah, but if you had to pick...."

"little kid, who do you love more, me or cookies?"

"Oooohhh. You or cookies? Hmmmm." He was thinking hard. I laughed.

"What?" he asked. "I'm thinkin' I'd pick long as you pick that you love me more than daddy. And more than Murphy. And bubby."

"little kid, I love you all the same but different. The same amount, just in a different way."

"Well, that's how I feel 'bout you and cookies."

 Knowing how intensely he feels about cookies, I can accept that answer. I am loved.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Wanna Doctor

When I finally turn to a life of crime (we all know it's just a matter of time), the first thing I'm doing is stealing someone's driver's license and credit card and renting a Rug Doctor to keep forever! With all of the optional attachments!

I just love freshly shampooed carpets.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Cookie Monster

We just cannot have cookies in the house.

little kid started harassing me about having some cookies at 8:30 a.m. At 9:30 a.m. I assured him that he could have cookies after lunch (if he ate his lunch!) and for the past hour I have been harassed about lunch every 3 minutes. He knows what time lunch is, he knows it is not lunch time, we both know he will not eat all of his lunch and will probably not rightfully earn the cookies.

I just told him to knock it off about the cookies or he wouldn't have any (because I'm sick today and I'm tired of his bullshit) and have heard 15 minutes of wailing about how I'm ruining his life. So I sent him to his room and now he is yelling that this proves that I'm trying to ruin his life.

WHAT ABOUT MY LIFE?? Who is the sick person being forced to spend a ridiculous amount of time discussing the possibility of cookies at lunch?

He has just announced that he is being forced to hit himself in the head because I have ruined his life.

That works for me.

Monday, January 10, 2011

New Law

We've recently implemented a new chore chart around here. All was going well with everyone falling into routine quite nicely--until last night when Big Kid was doing his laundry round-up chore and I heard some stomping and muttering from the other room.

"What's up?"

Big Kid walked into the kitchen with an armload of clothes and a scowl on his face. "You know, it should be a law that no child should ever have to touch his mother's underwear."

Mr. Ashley and I looked at each other and laughed. "What?" Big Kid asked. "I'm serious."

And that's how Big Kid got his laundry round-up chore permanently reduced.

(Because he's right!)

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Moving Dogs

I know I've shared something from Hyperbole and a Half before but I've been meaning to share THIS ONE with you all. I read it a while ago and laughed until my sides hurt. I just came across it again and figured since we're talking about dogs, it must be a sign that now is the time to share it with you.

(Well, not really with the whole it being a sign thing but now is as good a time as any. And it's funny as hell.)

The Alpha Neighbor

So I have this one neighbor. She lives about 4-5 houses down on the opposite side of the street from me. I see her every day, twice a day because she walks her two dogs in the morning and again at lunch when I'm taking little kid to school. She stands out because she walks her dogs without a leash and has long glossy black hair and she just sort of leisurely moseys around the neighborhood.

Soon after we moved in, I would hear my dogs going nuts twice a day. I would look outside to see what was causing the commotion and there she would be, encouraging her dogs to sit and lie down on the sidewalk in front of my house. Weird, I thought, but whatever. After this happened for a few days in a row, I would walk outside to get the mail when she did it and say hi. She would focus her attention on her dogs and mostly ignore me, while my dogs were barking. I soon figured out that she was using my dogs' stupidity to train her dogs. Good on you for having all day long to mess with your dogs, lady, now go play Cesar Millan in someone else's yard. I get it, you win Good Dog Owner award, my dogs will never comprehend property lines and your dogs are clearly superior. Gotcha.

Well this morning as we were walking out the front door for school, I see her out there sashaying around the sidewalk with her dogs. I did the half head nod, knowing she would most likely ignore me because she is rude like that. I picked up Big Kid's backpack, not realizing it was caught on the edge of a glass side table and pulled the entire glass table over, watching it shatter everywhere. I glanced out the front door to see that she was watching, I looked at the mess again and realized I couldn't clean it up and get Big Kid to school on time so I told the kids to get in the car. I then saw her walking back up my driveway and she leaned down and placed a plastic bag next to my mailbox. Weird, I thought. Maybe it's the neighborhood newsletter or something.

As I back out of the driveway, I slow down to look and can tell that it's a Ziploc bag full of dog poop. Hating confrontation and not wanting to be late, I hesitated and then remembered the last neighborhood poop thrower and decided I couldn't let this get out of hand again. I hopped out of the car and grabbed the bag and yelled "DID YOU LEAVE THIS IN MY YARD?"

She stopped, about 4 houses down now, near her own home, and said, "Yes, I'm coming back for it later. On my way back."

WTF, lady? Why am I your personal poop receptacle? And you seriously looked at a disheveled mom who just pulled a glass table over and who you knew could see you and thought, "This is a good spot to leave this bag of crap."

She acted kind of bitchy about it too, like I was the bad neighbor for not understanding that she didn't want to carry her bag of poop. You know what, lady? No one wants to carry the bag of poop! That's the worst part of dog ownership! And no other neighbors think it's okay to drop your bag of poop off in someone else's yard for later pick-up.

I think she's trying to show her dominance over me and my dogs and I'm not sure how to proceed. Should I sniff her butt next time she walks past? Pee on her mailbox? Join my dogs in barking and growling at her and her dogs?

I don't know but I don't blame my dogs for not liking her.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Unreal Housewives

Hey look! Another pregnant man!

We went without cable (or satellite) from March to December. It was fine. No one cared, thanks to Netflix streaming on the Wii. There were a few awkward moments when the outside world would be discussing a movie or commercial or new show and I had no idea what they were talking about, but I really didn't care. 

Then we found out we could have basic cable for $10 a month for the next 12 months and figured we'd have it hooked up--and so we were sucked right back into the world of television.

I can already tell my IQ has dropped at least 20 points. God, why do I care that this transvestite is having a baby? 

I'm addicted to the entire Real Housewives franchise but  Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is my favorite. I sit completely transfixed watching and waiting for any sign of life in Camille Grammer's forehead.

(There is none.)
I don't blame Kelsey Grammer for needing a drink or twenty to put up with her. The judge should only have to watch one episode before granting him a speedy divorce. I'm 100% Team Kyle. Camille is insecure and impossible to deal with.

I really want to be Lisa when I grow up. Or at least her permanent houseguest. She can cook, she dresses beautifully, she can arrange flowers, she runs successful businesses, she's gorgeous, she talks pretty, and she handles social situations with grace, class and humor. She's completely unlike all of the rest of those overly botoxed Beverly Hillbillies. I think her and Kyle would actually be enjoyable to be around. Possibly.

I am anxiously awaiting the return of the New York housewives, the Jersey housewives scare me (bitches be crazy!) and the Atlanta housewives make the South look bad. I do like Nene though.

The entire series is proof that money can't buy you class, happiness or good plastic surgery!