funny stuff that happens | Page 17

Monday – In Bullets

March 8, 2010 by Kelli

– Spring has sprung. Unofficially, of course. We could still have another deep freeze as St. Louis is prone to experience before Spring really decides to settle in. But I’ll take what I can get. The kids played outside all weekend, skipping naps and all around having a fantastic time. My eyes are itching and my nose is running and I’m so excited about it because it is 60 flippin degrees outside.

– We realized last week that our kids haven’t been on antibiotics one. single. time all winter. I’m knocking on wood as I type this. I believe there are two reasons for this phenomenon. First, we more than paid our dues last winter when someone was sick preeeetty much all winter long. I’m not exaggerating when I say that we spent roughly 600 dollars in copays at the doctors office. Second, I have been giving my kids Emergen-C like it’s going out of style. Seriously – You’re thirsty? Have some Emergen-C. Your throat hurts? Emergen-C. You feel fine? EMERGEN-C! Sloan had a sore throat and a fever on Friday. We pumped the Emergen-C in double doses and by Sunday he felt perfectly fine. Of course he is glowing in the dark now, sssssoooooo…

– Speaking of Sloan, his top tooth is hanging on by a thread. Every time I look at it my stomach flips over and I get all hot and light headed. And guess who he keeps asking to try and pull it out? ME! The one who could quite possibly pass out if blood came spurting our of his mouth. (In my mind I imagine the scene from The Shining when a waterfall of blood comes splashing down the hallway – *shudder*) He doesn’t want Lee to do it – just me. He came into our room at 5:45 yesterday morning to have me wiggle his tooth. That thing better fall out quick.

– I put about 20 items on Craig’s List this weekend. I’ve sold a lot of it and am a little over half way to my goal of remaking my bedroom. But if I get one more spam message from someone who is “interested” in my item but wants me to click on her link to make sure it’s what her son/cousin/brother is looking for I’m gonna go batty. I may have gotten a little nasty with someone yesterday…

– My parents put their house on the market Monday afternoon. They are under contract as of yesterday afternoon. Mom is panicking (*deep breaths mom*). They thought it would take longer. They close in 5 weeks. The bummer is that we love my parents house and are sad to see it go (they’ll get a condo here in town). The plus is that I will be able to sell more stuff on Craig’s List. Wahoo!

– I wrote a giveaway/review over at 5 Minutes for Giveaways today for the Superstar Barbie. It’s not up yet but it will be later. It is now up and running. LEave a comment to enter and win a commemorative st of Superstar Barbie dolls. If you don’t want to win a Barbie but do want to check out Barbie’s rockin’ shoes that I totally love, check it out anyway!

– I am writing an article on raising bilingual kids in a monolingual home for STL Family Life this week. I’m gonna have a few late nights as I work to put that together. Hello procrastination, I’m so glad you’re here.

– Have I mentioned that it’s gonna be 60 degrees today? That makes me want to do back handsprings down the street. But I can’t do a back handspring anymore so I may have to settle for a pathetic hurkey when no one is looking…

– We watched the Oscars last night. I don’t know why. We haven’t seen a single movie that was up for nomination. Well, that’s not true – we saw UP. We haven’t always been this cool, folks.

– Landon’s new favortie phrase is “Oh My Dosh.” He says it a hundred times a day and it’s funny every time. He is also showing a great deal of interest in the potty. He’s not ready to train yet, but I am letting him sit on the potty a few times a day. He hasn’t gone in it yet because he usually tells me he has to go after he’s already gone. But he’ll sit on the potty for ten minutes talking and playing (usually with himself…ah the joys of little boys).

– I have so much laundry to do that I fear I may get lost in the mounds of clothing spread around the basement. That is today’s number one goal to accomplish.

– And with that, I will head out. Have a nice Monday!

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Sloan Tagged With: Emergen-C, Oscars, Springtime, UP

He gets that from me

March 5, 2010 by Kelli

Yesterday as we drove about town in our (smokin’ hot) minivan, we put on Michael Jackson to satisfy what I can only describe as an addicition that my kids have to his music. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a six and four year old throw their heads back and sing, “I just can’t stop lovin’ yoooouuuu” with reckless abandon. And Landon singing Man in the Mirror? Classic.

As we grooved to Beat It, I laughed out loud at Sloan’s interpretation of the lyrics. He boldly sang every word…exactly as he was hearing it. Here is what he was singing:

Just Beat it, Beat it

Beat it, Beat it

No one wants to beat it beat it.

Showim a buckey

Not a stoplight

It doesn’t mada

Who’s gonna light

Just Beat it

So I did what any self respecting mother would do…I turned down the volume and told him the real words. Only, as I spoke the lyrics that I usually sing, I realized that they sounded ridiculous and that I was likely singing the wrong thing as well.

It’s kind of the story of my life. For some reason I’ve always had a hard time distinguishing lyrics in a song, but I love to sing, so I sing out what I hear boldly. For years (like until I was in high school) I swore the lyrics to the song “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” were The Milk is sitting. The Milk is sitting on Roock and Roll. Miiilk is sitting. The Milk is sitting on Rock and Roll.

It wasn’t until I actually saw the title of the song as a teenager that it clicked. It was an ah-ha moment of sorts. And the actual lyrics made a lot more sense than what I sang. So when I hear Sloan sing along to grown up songs, I often find myself guffawing as we bop down the road. Not only because the words he sings are ridiculous, but also because oftentimes I’m hearing the same thing he is.

So as we rocked out to MJ yesterday, I told Sloan that the actual words were:

Show him how funky

Long as your right

It doesn’t matter

Who’s wrong or right

Just beat it beat it

When I called Lee and sang my lyrics to him he bust out laughing. “That’s doesn’t make sense,” he cackled. “I know, but Michael Jackson’s lyrics never make sense,” I replied. In my mind I started running through the song Thriller.

It’s just a Thriller in the night

And no one’s gonna save you from the knee that’s in your side.

I wisely decided not to mention to Lee that those are the words I sing along with MJ. So Lee and I hung up and Sloan and I decided we would just sing what we heard since nobody seemed to know the real words.

In case you’re wondering, the actual lyrics to Beat It are this:

Just Beat it, Beat it

Beat it, Beat it

No one wants to be defeated.

Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight

It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right

Just beat it.

I was actually not that far off. Score one for mommy.

Oh, and I have also looked up the words to Thriller. Yeah…the real words make a ton more sense. Huh…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids do the darndest things, Sloan Tagged With: Michael Jackson lyrics

In which I write while freezing

March 2, 2010 by Kelli

My house is cold. I would get up and put on a sweater, but Tia is asleep in my bedroom and I’m already wearing a sweater. I could go sit in front of the fireplace, but then I will probably fall asleep and I prefer to waste my time in front of the computer screen, not snoozing in front of the fire.

Ahem.

So I forgot to pick Sloan up at school today. And he’s apparently not going to let me forget about it. I usually pick him up every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday because I can’t wait for his bus and still get to Tia’s school in time to pick her up. Thursday and Friday, however, he always rides the bus home.

Except today was an early release day, which for half day kindergartners means they actually get out of school later rather than earlier. Try to keep up…

Most often, early release days fall on a Friday. But apparently the school district likes to mess with us parents and throw one in the middle of the week now and again. So…I forgot it was early release day and drove to school at normal time to pick up the boy. As I pulled in, I noticed there were no other cars/buses waiting then saw the sign announcing Earl Release. So I left, assuming that Sloan would just ride the bus home like he always does on early release days. I did not think about the fact that his teacher expects me to pick him up on Tuesdays.

Cut to me, at home, fixing lunch for the younger two monkeys and the phone rings with a report that they have my child sitting in the office waiting to be picked up. I throw the monkeys in the car sans shoes/coats and dash to the school where Sloan greets me with a “Mom, what the heck?!” and a scowl. I then endured a rather pointed lecture all the way home about how next time I need to send in a note so the teacher knows he’s supposed to get on the bus.

Got it, dear.

And now I’m home and it’s quiet. And I’m cold.

I’m also preparing to write my first post for STLFamilyLife. I met up with the lovely Lisa and Melody last night to discuss partnering with them to build this new site for St. Louis area families. I’m very excited to be working on this with them as they are both very experienced, great writers and all around fun gals to be with. It’s a fun new venture.

And so I’m off to make a cup of hot tea, wrap a blanket around my shoulders and hammer out a post. And give Sloan one more hug and kiss…

Filed Under: Blogging, funny stuff that happens, Random, Sloan Tagged With: STLFamilyLife

The Dance of the Little Bee

March 1, 2010 by Kelli

I observed a strange little phenomenon on Friday. It took me a little off guard, made me laugh and also opened my eyes to the fact that this motherhood thing is as easy as it’s gonna get right now. Right at this moment. It’s not going to get any easier. Which kinda stinks because motherhood is really hard right now.

We were in Walgreens picking up a certain variety of medicine that is supposed to ensure that no more little Stuarts enter this world when we ran into a group of giggly girls who had clearly walked over from the Middle School across the street. As I looked at them wandering the isles all silly-like I had a quick flashback to my own days of walking to this very plaza from the same school. The Walgreens is newer and now sits on the corner instead of in the back of the plaza, but it was still funny to watch them flitting about, laughing about things that weren’t even remotely funny and filling the sleepy store with the raucous sounds on tweendom.

At least they weren’t smoking around back, which may or may not be what I did back in my Walgreens days. I was such a rebel when I was 14. ::eyeroll::

As soon as we walked into the store, Sloan’s radar went off. He was immediately aware of the older girls that were in close proximity. And it turned him into something that is beginning to emerge with greater frequency the older he gets. This shouldn’t surprise me given recent comments he’s made, but I found myself utterly baffled by the abrupt change in behavior he exhibited. He was like a little bee, buzzing here and there, ever aware of the females in his presence.

Like every other girl, my mom told me as a kid that the reason boys bothered me was because they liked me. I never believed her, of course. I just thought boys were incessantly annoying. Until, you know, the day they became not annoying.

But as I watched Sloan turn into a ninja warrior in that store, hiding around corners, jumping out and pretend shooting the girls, I caught a glimpse of that little nugget of truth shared by my mom so long ago. And as the girls giggled and squealed and exclaimed, “Oh My Ga, he’s, like, sooooo cute,” I saw Sloan’s face flush and a look of male dominance flash through his eyes. His chest puffed out and he aimed his “gun” (his fingers accompanied by a gun sound that only a little boy can make) at the group once more and shot. And they laughed in such a high pitch tone that my ears began to bleed. And I laughed and shook my head and ushered my little Ladie’s Man along.

“What are you doing?” I asked Sloan who walked along with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“I just like girls,” he said with a shrug. “I like to be with girls. By myself.”

And off he flitted, my little bee, dancing to the beat of a rhythm I wasn’t fully prepared for just yet. He is aware of girls, he is fascinated by girls, he is attracted to girls (obviously in a completely innocent way). And here I sit, his baffled mother, wondering what on Earth we’re going to do with him.

What am I going to do with him? I see the innocence of his actions. He is aware that girls are different from boys and the difference is attracting. He is also still completely grossed out by the site of boys and girls kissing (thank God Almighty) but at the same time I think he is equally fascinated and mortified by the attraction between boys and girls. Oh yeah…he’s only six. Six. I expected this behavior around 10. Not six. Lord help me…

It is interesting, this process of watching your child grow up and mature. It is both terrifying and thrilling all at once. And as this self awareness begins to develop I find myself entirely unprepared to handle the dance of the little bee. We have time, of course. But if there’s one thing I’ve observed since having children it’s that time does not, indeed, slow down. In fact, I’m quite sure it’s speeding up. It won’t be long until I have a tween who is still innocent in the issue of attraction, but whose impulses towards attraction are much stronger. I wonder if I will still find it so baffling and hysterical?

I also have a girl who will one day be one of those silly, giggly, Middle School girls who knows how to flirt and laugh in such a way that little boys lose whatever reason they may have and begin acting in a way that makes your head spin. Maybe Christ could return before that – like…today.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood, Sloan Tagged With: The birds and the bees

It was a crisp, clear morning…part two

February 25, 2010 by Kelli

A follow up to this post.

Alternately titled “How to turn 12 hours in to 36 without even trying…”

Or: “An American girl on a Ukrainian train to Prague with an Iranian born German.”

I failed to mention in my previous post that on my way to the train station in Kiev where my adventurous journey to Prague would begin, I was accosted by a very drunk Ukrainian man. It was 10:00 at night, dark and the metro station was empty when he came up behind me and pinned my arms down by my side. I honestly don’t think he was trying to hurt me – I just think he was wasted.

I calmly called screamed for help and a young policeman came running to my rescue. He yanked the guy off me and pushed me into the awaiting metro car that would take me to the train station. So, you know…that was the start of this adventure.

So, now I’m in Prague and I’m wiping Cameron’s slobber out of my ear as I make my way out to what I am hoping is the main square. It is early Monday morning and I am armed with my backpack (which contains one change of clothes, my passport and nothing else) and a scrap of paper that lists the address and phone number of the hostel where my friend and her group are staying. My first order of business is to call my host family in Ukraine as I know they are probably panicking since they thought I would arrive in Prague more than a day earlier.

Allo?

Sergei?

Kelli! Where are you? Are you okay?! We have been so worried.

Sergei then went on to tell me that after they didn’t hear from me, they called the station to check on my train and were informed that it was a much longer train ride than they had been originally told. Shortly after that, they received a phone call from my friend Wanida saying that she and her group were actually running a day behind schedule, which meant that I actually beat them to Prague. A bit of God’s Providence as I would have been wandering the streets of Prague alone for two days had I, indeed, been on a 12 hour express train.

After I hung up with Sergei, I decided my first order of business would be to find some place to buy toothpaste and maybe some shampoo and get something to eat since I hadn’t had any more than a few bites of bread in almost two days.

Entering the heart of Prague, I stopped and took in the sites. I was struck by the beauty of the city. Because it was early morning, the autumn sun was just starting to spill over the buildings. The architechture took my breath away and I found myself mezmorized by the different structures before me. I knew nothing about Prague and was itching to explore once I stabalized my blood sugar.

I began walking down what looked to be a main street and almost immediately picked up a follower. He came out of nowhere and walked right on my heels.

Xello zere, pritty girl. Would yoo like to buy some xash (hash)?

I shook my head and sped up. It was a fairly crowded street so I determined that if he tried anything funny I could scream and escape easily.

Come on now, pritty girl. Eet ees very good xash.

No! I told him firmly.

And yet he persisted. For almost 30 minutes he persisted in trying to sell me hash. And in that time I walked in circles because I didn’t want to venture off this main path. Finally, having had enough, I whirled around on my heel and faced my annoyance. He was tall, greasy and smelled of urine and cheap tobacco.

Seriously! Do I LOOK like the type of girl that would do hash? Please, leave me alone.

He bowed all creepy like and folded his hands under his chin, then turned and walked away. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my search for toothpaste. Finally, I found a small pharmacy where I bought some Suave Spring Rain shampoo and conditioner and AIM toothpaste. I think I paid $15.00 for those three items. And to the glory of God, a Kentucky Fried Chicken was right next door.

I entered the restaurant and breathed in deep the smell of crispy fried chicken then made a beeline for the bathroom where I check out my reflection in the mirror. As I took in the circles under my eyes and my stringy, greasy hair I realized I kind of did look like the type of girl who would do hash…

After washing my hair in the sink and brushing my teeth, I felt like a new woman. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more clean in all my life. I then walked out and dropped another load of cash on the best chicken and biscuit I’ve ever tasted and walked back out on the the streets of Prague feeling like a million bucks.

Since I knew Wanida and her friends wouldn’t be arriving until that night, I decided to explore a bit. I wandered until I found the Charles Bridge, only I didn’t know it was called the Charles Bridge at the time. Iwas in awe of the vendors selling photographs and paintings, singing and dancing. Every ten feet, I stopped to admire the brilliant statues that graced the bridge. If I could figure out how to work our new scanner and printer, I would share some of my pictures. But I can’t figure it out so if you’re interested in seeing it, you can go to google and check it out. Or watch the opening scene of the original Mission: Impossible, which was filmed in Prague.

After taking my time to check out every vendor, I stopped at the end of the bridge and looked out over the water at a hillside that was covered with gorgeous red, yellow and orange trees. The autumn colors had created a patchwork piece of art across the vibrant green hill. And at the top I could make out the shape of a woman leading a flock of goats. It was picturesque and I determined that before my few days in Prague were over, I would climb that hill and look back at the bridge.

I eventually made my way back to the city square where I found a small grocery store and bought a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and the book Jane Eyre. Then I hailed a cab and headed to the youth hostel. By this time it was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to fall behind the horizen. Wanida’s group was supposed to arrive at 7:00.

When I arrived at the hostel, I told the receptionist who I was and who I was waiting for. She asked me to have a seat. I did and promptly opened up my box of cereal and dug into my new book.

At 8:00, I asked the receptionist if she had heard from the group. She blinked twice then told me that she was very sorry, but the group had called and they were staying at a different hostel…on the other side of town.

If you go outside and walk three blocks you will be able to get a cab to take you to this hostel, she told me handing me a piece of paper with the hostel’s address and phone number on it.

So I headed out into the dark streets of Prague and found myself in a back alley where an older gentleman who, once again, had had too much to drink stumbled into my path and said something to me in Czech. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to push past him.

Oh you are American girl, yes? Oh please, pritty American girl. Give me money for a beer. Just one beer. I just need a little beet of money.

He then reached down and grabbed my butt and gave it a squeeze. I burst into tears and took off running with him calling out behind me to stop. I finally made it to a busy street, wiped my eyes and hailed a cab who took me to the hostel where I rushed in to find a worried Wanida sitting in the lobby waiting for me. I grabbed onto her and and laughed and cried.

Are you okay? she asked.

Yes, I answered. But I don’t want to be near another man for a long, long time.

After I was finally united with a group of Americans, I had a wonderful few days in Prague. I learned a lot about that beautiful city, I ate at amazing restarants, I ran along the Charles Bridge at night singing the theme song to Mission: Impossible, I bought gorgeous photographs that are today hanging in my foyer and I was all over refreshed after a stressful trip.

When Wanida’s group left, I had about 7 hours by myself to wander before my train was to depart. My hands were loaded down with bags full of souviner’s, but I did the one thing I was determined to do. I hiked to the hill across from Charles Bridge (which was much father away than I had anticipated – I guarantee I walked three miles to get there) and trekked up the hill (which was much steeper than it looked) and stood at the top looking over the city of Prague. I sang praise songs and enjoyed the sound of my voice floating uninterrupted through the air. It was a spectacular moment.

Finally, I headed back to the train station and began the long journey back to my temporary home. And this time, I got a room to myself the entire way back…

Filed Under: blast from the past, funny stuff that happens, Life

It was a crisp, clear morning…

February 23, 2010 by Kelli

As I stepped outside this morning, I was struck by the crisp chill in the air. It is the lingering mix of winter air as it fights back the impending spring. I love it. It’s cold, but I can hear the birds chirping in the distance and the air feels and smells so clean and fresh.

As I breathed in deep, I had a flash back to a similar morning nearly 12 years ago – October, 1998. The situation and circumstances were so different, but the experience is one that shaped my life and is, perhaps, one of my favorite moments in life.

It was a crisp, clear morning when I stepped off the Ukrainian train and stretched my arms up over my head. I tried to shake the sleep from my eyes as I looked around the strange platform. Not paying attention, I turned and hopped back on the train and sat down on the bottom bunk in my small room. I had had an amazing night’s sleep. The train pulled out of the station in Kiev at 11:00 and I had promptly fallen asleep and been rocked most of the night. Except for the occasional stop to pick up new passengers, I had been uninterrupted in my sleep.

Now I was ready to fold up my bedding, pack my backpack and prepare to arrive in Prague, Czech Republic where I was to meet my friend Wanida and the group that she was travelling with for a semester abroad. I had been in Kiev for roughly a month and half so far and I craved the companionship of fellow Americans.

As I leaned back against the cold train wall, I looked outside at the sterile platform once more. And in that moment, my heart sank. The signs were in Ukrainian.

This startled me because my host family in Ukraine, a young couple who were dear friends, had assured me that the train I was on to Prague was an express train. You will be there in 12 hours, Sergei told me proudly as he handed me the tickets. And yet here I sat, 11 hours after boarding the train and I was clearly still in Ukraine. Which means we still had to go through Poland before we would make it to Czech Repbublic.

I hurried out to the conductor – a kind, round faced little Ukrainian man who spoke no Enlgish but communicated well through hand gestures and facial expressions. In my broken russian I asked him how much longer until we arrived in Czech Republic. 25 hours, he said.

This isn’t a 12 hour express ride? I asked.

And then he laughed. Hard. Shook his head and said. Nyet. This is a 36 hour train ride.

Awesome. I returned to my room and sat down hard on the bed. I had nothing to read and no food. I had been planning on buying food when I met up with the group in CR. I was worried that they would be looking for me and I had no way of communicating with them, or my parents for that matter, that it would be another day before I arrived.

Then the situation got worse…much worse.

The conductor came by my room, his eyes full of apology, and told me they were out of room and he needed to add a passenger to my room. And in walked a short, stocky Iranian man who clearly hadn’t showered in some time. His eyes lit up when he saw the blonde haired, blue eyed 20 year old sitting in front of him. And I got very uncomfortable.

It didn’t take long for me to realize, however, that this guy was a mouse – a dorky mouse. Had he been anything else, I may have been in trouble. His name was Cameron. He was Iranian born, but had been raised in Germany. He spoke no russian (I never could figure out why he was in Ukraine) and his English was limited to phrases like, I love you and Will you sleep with me?

The beds in the train were narrow cots that folded out of the wall. Mine had been the bottom cot, but I quickly realized that sitting down there gave Cameron too much access to me. As soon as he started stroking my leg and professing his undying love to me, I folded down the top bunk, hopped up and did not remove myself.

By this time it was 2:00 and I was famished, tired and in need of some toothpaste. I hadn’t brought any, of course, thinking I could just borrow Wanida’s. The sweet conductor brought me some bubbly mineral water and a couple pieces of bread and glared at Cameron for good measure before leaving again. He also brought me a russian newspaper, which I spread open and worked at reading to distract myself from Cameron’s persistent stares. Everytime we made eye contact he would raise his brows and point at his cot. I would, in turn, roll my eyes, shake my head no and stare at the paper again.

Finally, it got dark enough to try and sleep. But it would be a long night. As we crossed from the Polish border to the Czech border in the wee hours of the morning, several men came into our room to check our passports. Cameron’s looks brought on immediate suspisions, unfortunately, so the men kept coming back in and trying to question him – the conductor among them. Finally, feeling a little sorry for my bunk mate, I told the conductor to tell the men that Cameron was merely travelling for pleasure and that he was planning to head back to Germany from Czech Republic. I’m not sure if that was true or not – I just wanted to sleep.

This seemed to satisfy the men and they finally left us alone. After they left, Cameron got up and shut our room door, something that I had already told him more than once was not acceptable. He stood up on the bunk and ran his hand over my hair. I pulled the blanket over my head.

Sank you bery much, he said.

You’re welcome, I replied.

Keeelli, he whispered. Come down wis me.

Uuuuuhhhh…Cameron no! Go to bed.

Then he pulled the blanket back and leaned in close, his mouth puckering. And this, my friends, was perhaps one of my finer moments in life. I shot up and grabbed Cameron by the shirt collar and yanked his face close to mine.

Cameron, I swear to God, if you touch me again I will scream so loud that the Ukrainian police, the Polish police and the Czech police will all come running to my rescue. But that will only be after I beat the crap out of you first. Don’t. you. dare come near me again. Do you understand?”

Then I shoved him all wide eyed backwards off the bed, reached down and flicked the door back open, laid back down and yanked the covers back over my head. Then I started laughing and shaking all over. I heard Cameron slowly settle himself back down in his bed. A few minutes later, very softly, he said. Keeeellli. Come down pleeze.

The guy was persistent, I’ll give him that.

Finally, we made it to Prague, 36 hours after departing Kiev. And as I headed one direction, Cameron headed another to catch his next train. But not before trying one last time to steal a kiss. I managed to turn my head fast enough for him to merely slobber in my ear.

And that was only the beginning of this adventure…

Filed Under: blast from the past, funny stuff that happens, Life, Random

My son the ‘Playa’

February 17, 2010 by Kelli

Sloan, my adorable, precocious, too-big-for-his-britches six-year-old, is well known for his fabulous, fantastic Quotable Quotes. And he’s popped up with a few doozies the last couple of days. So, without further ado, I give you Sloan…

Image taken by Becke' at Lulu Photography

Yesterday, as he was playing LEGO Star Wars on the Wii (his new obsession), he sat on the couch defeating level after level, all the while singing (to the tune of Star Wars), “I-I-I am Awesome, am Awesome. I-I-I am Awesome, am Awesooome.” And on and on it went. I’m glad he’s confident, but perhaps we nee dto work harder on not being boastful?

Last night, as we sat on the couch watching American Idol, Sloan leaned up against me. “Hey Mom and Dad,” he said. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking RIGHT NOW?”

Me: “Probably not. What are you thinking right now?”

Sloan: “I’m thinking I would like to have a party with no boys…just 1,000 girls.” And a smile spreads across his face.

Me: “Why would you want to have a party with 1,000 girls?”

Sloan (his head nodding up and down all sassy-like): “So I could be by myself with 1,000 girls,” he answered grinning widely.

Lee: “Not me, man. I’d want to have a party with 1,000 boys so we could play ball and have light saber fights. That sounds like more fun.”

Sloan, shrugging his shoulders: “Yeah, I would like that too…But I still want to have a party with 1,000 girls. Oh yeah.”

I feel the need to remind you all once again that he’s six. Oy…

Then, this morning, as the kids were eating breakfast Sloan leans over to Tia and says, “Tia, you’re hot.”

Tia: “No I’m not. I’m not hot, I’m cold.”

Sloan: “No Tia – hot means you’re pretty. It’s like what boys say to pretty girls. They say, ‘Dude, that girl’s hot!”

I…*sigh* There are just no words. Except, perhaps – Will you pray for me?

And now, here is a video of my other “playa.” Landon is going to be our baller. The kid is freakishly coordinated with a basketball already. He can dribble extremely well for a two year old and even after shooting the ball can immediately pick it up and start dribbling without missing a beat. He is nothing short of obssessed with balls and would play all day long. I watch him and Lee play ball together and have to laugh at the pure joy that takes over Lee’s face. Here is evidence.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Sloan

I Am Innocent

February 12, 2010 by Kelli

Caffeine and I, in general, are not the best of friends. If I even catch a whiff of a caffinated beverage after about 3:00 in the afternoon, I’m usually up all night long. But, oddly enough, if I consume a caffinated beverage in the morning when I’m exhausted and unable to pry my eyelids pass half mast, it seems to take little to no effect whatsoever.

Last night was russian school night. Usually I’m prepared when we go, as the kids’ lessons go right through dinner time, so I often pack dinner and bring it with us so they can eat at school. But yesterday time got away from me and I didn’t bring food, so I ran out and got a little heart hardening fast food and, in a moment of extreme weakness, I ordered a Coke for myself.

Mistake numero uno.

Upon returning home and getting tuckered out kiddos to bed, I prepared hot tea for Lee and I. I used my favorite tea, and made sure I chose a non-caffinated flavor for myself and a regular flavor for Lee, because he’s a freak of nature who’s not affected at all affected by caffeine.

Only I got the tea bags mixed up after I opened them. I sniffed the different teas and tried to figure out which was which, and thought I’d gotten it right.

Um…I was wrong. I figured this out around 1:30 when my mind was still racing and my hands were all jittery-like. Sometime after 2:00 I fell asleep, but it was restless and fraught with vivid and realistic dreams.

Like the dream where I was sent to prison. It was so realistic that I was sure it was happening for real (hence it being realistic…*eyeroll*). I could feel the scratchy fabric of the prison-issued jumpsuit on my skin, I was distraught and upset at the thought of being away from my kids for a long time, I was slightly excited at the prospect of long stretches of alone time…Ahem. I watched other inmates play ping pong with the wardon. They were all very young and good looking. As I watched them play, I actually commented how un-Shawshank my prison experience was.

Then I walked through the large community room where prisoners were reading books and watching TV. Clearly this was a dreamland experience – everything was bright, neat and clean. In fact, it seemed to be a rather pleasant place. From the community room, I walked into my jail cell and I sat alone, stared at a cement wall and cried because deep in my heart, I knew I was innocent and had been wrongly convicted. I’m not sure what I was convicted of, but I just knew I was innocent and I missed my family.

I felt empty knowing that I wouldn’t see the kids for a long, long time and I thought about them growing up without me and wondering why their mom was in prison. And as I thought about these things, I cried harder, to the point that my nose was running and I was approaching a panic attack. It was a very hopeless feeling.

And then I woke up and looked at the clock. It was 4:30, I was sweating and my cheeks were wet with tears. And all I could think as I laid there letting reality sink in was I. Am. Innocent.

Then, after a few minutes, I started laughing. Then Lee rolled over and mumbled something in his sleep about me needing to be still. And I laughed harder.

And, of course, it took some time to fall back to sleep. I couldn’t get the images of “jail” out of my head or the feeling that I had been wronged. By the time the effects of the caffeine finally wore off and I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, the kids woke up. And as I dragged my weary body out of bed, I remembered that things could be worse. I could be wrongly convicted of a crime I was unaware of and sitting in a dark, quiet jail cell all alone.

Then I chuckled, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled into the kitchen to make breakfast.

And even now, although I am well aware of the fact that this was just a strange, bizarre, disturbing dream, I can’t shake this feeling that I have been wronged and I somehow need to defend myself.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Random

From his perspective aka A really bad idea

February 3, 2010 by Kelli

Last night, a nurse lady came to our house to torture us take our blood as we are planning on changing our life insurance policy.

Let me just make one things clear: I DON’T LIKE NEEDLES. I had three babies ala naturál for a reason, folks. Because I DON’T LIKE NEEDLES. I avoid them at all cost. I avoid them like I avoid math and science. I avoid them like I avoid crickets. I avoid them like I avoid the flippin’ plague. If a needle being shoved into my body can be avoided then I AVOID IT.

So, I was not thrilled when Lee said we had to have this done. I reminded him that we had just had this done not long ago and I remember because Sloan stepped on that nurse lady’s scale and broke it and she left a little peeved.

Lee reminded me that that was easily 3-4 years ago. Blast!

So, when the nurse lady showed up, my hands immediately started sweating as did my upper lip. Lee got all giggly because as she asked me all the family history questions my voice was curt and my words clipped. I’m healthy as a horse and as family histories go, mine ain’t too shabby. I was hoping that she would click her ball point pen, straighten up and proclaim me a fine specimen of health and waive the need for a blood draw.

She didn’t.

So Lee went first. And while she was prepping him, I busied myself getting dinner on the table for the kids. In retrospect, we probably should have had her draw the blood in a different room rather than at the kitchen table while the kids were eating. But I wasn’t thinking about the kids in that moment.

I was thinking about how I was possibly going to avoid passing out in front my family.

As I prepared the drinks, nurse lady stuck Lee’s arm. And our kids, who are fascinated by all things bloody, stopped mid-bite and stared…in horror.

“Uuuhhh…what is she doing to daddy?” Sloan asked, pizza rolling around on his tongue.

“She’s just testing his blood,” I replied and then swallowed so as not to hurl and further escalate the situation.

Clapping his hand over his eyes, Sloan suddenly got very dramatic (where does he get that?!). “I don’t want to watch,” he said, his voice all shaky.

“You don’t have to watch, buddy,” Lee said.

“Please stop,” Sloan said.

“Why?” Nurse lady asked.

“Because. I don’t want my dad to die!”

We all chuckled (well, I tried to chuckle, anyway). “Honey, daddy’s not going to die. You don’t die from getting your blood drawn,” I said. (Yeah right – what if you do?!?!)

“Uh-Yeah!” Sloan exclaimed, dropping his hand and looking at me with very wide, very concerned eyes. “Don’t you remember Marley? They put a needle in his leg and he died!”

And we all laughed heartily. Then Lee pretended to fall over dead. And Sloan laughed with us…but it was more of a Hahaha, I’m totally serious about this but you all are laughing so I’m gonna laugh along even though I don’t get the joke sort of laugh.

Once we convinced him that nurse lady wasn’t actually trying to put daddy to sleep, he went about his business eating his pizza – though he did keep a wary eye on nurse lady as she prepped me for torture blood work.

And, I am happy to report that I did not faint, although Lee did stand behind me when she jabbed, erm, stuck me just in case. There was a moment when she was switching tubes and she accidentally pulled the needle out of my arm causing blood to bubble up, which all around freaked me the kids out. One look at my horrified face and nurse lady quickly assured me that she got enough in tube one so she wouldn’t need to restick me.

Good. Cause I’da had to get ugly.

And that is the story of the day we nearly put Lee to sleep.

According to Sloan, of course…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids do the darndest things, Sloan Tagged With: blood work, Marley and Me