A Watched Sorbet Never Softens

Sometimes I swear I feel like an alien in my own house.

I pulled out a rock-hard tub of raspberry sorbet tonight after dinner, and told Ellie to go play for a few minutes while it softened up. She promptly perched herself directly in front of it at the counter, and said “Mom I’m just gonna watch it.”

Adam was in the living room with Jamie, and I laughed as I called out to him, “Hey Babe? Will you tell your daughter that a watched pot never boils?”

Adam: A what never what?

Me: A watched pot never boils.

Adam: A washed what?

Me: A watched pot never boils!

Adam: A washtot?

Me: ADAM! A WATCHED POT NEVER BOILS!!

Adam: Yeah I’ve never heard that. What’s that?

Ellie: I’m not watching a pot, MOM, I’m watching the ice cream!

Me: *siiiiiiiigh*

 

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12 Things I Don’t Like to Hear While Showering

Sometimes I try to shower while the kids are playing in Ellie’s room. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Here are twelve things I definitely do not like to hear while trying to take that shower (and I especially do not like to hear them all during the SAME shower):

1. “Mom?” (I know, I know, but it’s always the start of bigger and badder…)

2. “Jamie just ate a booger.”

3. “Mommy! Jamie threw my pony in the toilet!”

4.”Here Mom… can you wash this pony that Jamie threw in the toilet?” (while throwing sopping wet pony into the shower)

5. “Mama! Poopy!”

6. “Hi. Jamie bath too. Want in.”

7. “Mom? Can you open this?” (hands me a popsicle)

8. “MOM! Jamie took her diaper off!”

9. “Mama. I peed.”

10. “JAMIE PEED ON MY BED!!”

11. “MOOOOOOOOOM! Jamie just poured bubble bath in the toilet!”

12. “Mom are you done yet? It’s crazy out here.”

Yes dear. *sigh* It IS crazy out there.

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10 minutes with my 1-year-old

Sometimes, a ten minute conversation with my one-year-old will cover as many as 97 topics.

Other times, it’ll go like this:

(While visiting a friend who has turtles in a little plastic pool in the backyard)

Me: Jamie, do you see the turtles?

Jamie: Turtle.

Me: Yeah! There are six turtles.

Jamie: Turtle.

Me: Do you see them eating?

Jamie: Turtle. Corn. OH! CORN!

Me: Yep, they’re eating corn on the cob.

Jamie: CORN!

Me: Corn is yummy, huh?

Jamie: CORN. TURLES EAT CORN. CORN.

Me: Yep. Okay, neat.

Jamie: Corn. Look! Corn. Turtle. Corn.

Me: Yes. Corn.

Jamie: Mama! CORN!

Me: I see. Corn.

Jamie: CORN. Turtle. CORN. Look! Corn!

And you guys? I walked away about 5 minutes in, but Jamie stood there at that pool and pointed at the corn and turtles for TEN WHOLE MINUTES, and every time someone even walked near her she pulled them into her scintillating conversation. “CORN!”

I’m still chuckling. Who knew corn was so exciting?

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Mom-Cast: A Morning at the Superhouse

I think that if I attached a microphone to my shirt and recorded everything I say from 7am-10am, on a weekend when I’m the only adult in the house with two munchkins… It would make a really good podcast. Hilarious probably. It’s just a constant stream of ridiculousness that comes out of my mouth.

“Gooooooooood mor— aw dang is that poop?”

 

“Please don’t pull your sister around by the neck of her shirt.”

 

“Purple? Or blue? Purple? Purple? Purple? Blue? Blue? Can you …please just pick some pants?”

 

“Nonoonono standing on the table. No walking on the table. No dancing on the table!!”

 

“Pancakes are not brushes. They go in your mouth. No. No. No. No it’s not a brush. No.”

 

“Don’t touch the remote controls. Don’t – NONO! No remotes! NONO!”

 

“Why is there yogurt in your hair?”

 

“Did you pee?”

 

“Don’t eat crayons. Crayons are not food. Don’t e–NO!”

 

“Do you want a juice? Red or green? We don’t have blue. Red or green. No blue. We don’t have blue. There is no blue. There’s no blue.”

 

“What is that on your pants? Chapstick? Where did you find Chapstick?”

 

“Ohmigosh DON’T STAND ON THAT!!”

 

“Ewwwwyuckyyuckyyuckyewwww nononono we don’t touch the plunger!”

 

“Why is there a book in the toilet?”

 

“Who gave the dog fruit snacks?”

 

“I’m not sure you need THAT much toilet paper, sweetie.”

 

“You can’t brush your hair if it’s in a ponytail.”

 

“Please don’t dance on the stairs, you’re scaring Mommy.”

 

“Don’t put that in your mou– NO NOT ‘mmmmm’ THAT’S A HAIR CLIPPY. No ‘mmmmm’. Yucky.”

 

“Why are you naked?”

 

“Did you get that out of the garbage? Ew.”

 

“How many cookies did you eat? 3? 4? 10? Did you count? Why didn’t you ask me first?”

 

“Can I please have that? That’s Mommy’s. We don’t play with those (Sharpie) markers, they’re Mommy Markers.”

 

“Play-doh is for playing. Don’t put it in your mou– yuck! YUCK! Spit it out! Spit!”

 

“HOT! THAT’S HOT! DON’T TOUCH THAT! HOT COFFEE!”

 

“Nononononononononono NONONONONONO JAMIE!!! Don’t touch the DVD player!”

 

“Yes you can jump on the couch.”

 

“Keep your mouth shut if you’re going to jump off the couch, you might bite your tongue.”

 

“Did you bite your tongue?”

 

“Did you hurt your foot? Does it hurt really bad? Should we cut it off?”

 

“Honey I was just kidding. I would never cut you. I promise. No, I will never cut off your foot. I PROMISE.”

 

“I promise I’ll never cut off Jamie’s foot either. I won’t cut anyone’s foot off, ever.”

 

“SINGALONG!!!! LET IT GOOOOO– oh, I’m not allowed to sing? Why? I’m too OLD?”

 

“Yes you can have some of my water. Just don’t squee– *sigh*… here’s a towel.”

 

“Please stop handing me your boogers. You know where the tissue is.”

 

“What is that? A booger? Why are you just standing there holding it?”

 

“Do I hear running water? Why is the tub running? WHY IS THE TUB RUNNING?”

 

“Are your panties on backward?”

 

“WHY IS THIS WET?”

 

“Is it naptime yet?”

 

And on and on and on… would you listen? If I could ever find the time to edit and publish a weekly recording like this, I feel like it might be a hit! :)

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Growing into Angry Birds

The Angry Birds obsession has hit our household, and my girls are preeeeetty much in love with anything Angry Birds-related. I bought Ellie a swimsuit with the red bird on it, and a set of 5 pairs of socks. I had to buy myself the same socks, and now every morning when she wakes up she asks, “Mom what socks should we wear this morning?” – and then refuses to wear anything that doesn’t make our feet match (it makes my morning decisions just *that* much more difficult, having to remember that I MUST choose socks for which Ellie has a match). Anyhoo… at the store the other evening, I was treated to this lovely (and completely innocent) outburst:

Ellie: MOM! Angry Birds panties!!!

Me: Hmmm, well… These are just too big for you sweetie.

Ellie: Well when my ‘gina gets bigger can I get them?

(Most of the time I can stifle my laughter. This… was not one of those times.)

(AND she was still asking the same question like 5 minutes later in the milk aisle, and I finally had to be like “ummmm when your little booty gets bigger we can get them… Can we please talk about something else???”)

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Potty Time – Husbands vs. Toddlers (again)

I am continually flabbergasted by the amount of time my husband (and most men, I assume) spend in the bathroom. Seriously, is it just their “get away” time? Not that Ellie thinks any room in our house is private or anything (“I’ll be right back Mom, I’m gonna go watch Daddy poop“), but at least Adam knows I won’t bother him if he’s in the bathroom (ew). I just don’t get it – I mean, do ANY women out there (who don’t have like the flu or some other tummy-related illness) spend HOURS a day on the toilet? Because seriously, if I add up the amount of time my husband spends there in a 24-hr period, I can guarantee there are some days where it’s HOURS. PLURAL.

WHO HAS HOURS (PLURAL) A DAY TO SPEND ON THE JOHN?

Sometimes I can’t even find an extra 5 seconds to actually use toothpaste when I brush my teeth, but there are men out there who just have HOURS to spend on the toilet, playing Angry Birds or Words with Friends or shopping on Craigslist or whateverthehelltheydointhere.

So… now that I’ve ranted about that, here is your dose of SuperLaughter for the day:

Adam was getting Ellie ready for bed the other night, and he took her upstairs to “flush-n-brush” before books and prayers. Ellie had been on the toilet for MAYBE 45 seconds, claiming she needed to poop, when I heard Adam let out a frustrated sigh and say,

“Okay now, this is just getting ridiculous.”

And then I almost died laughing.

I laughed out loud for at least 10 minutes, and I still giggle every time I think about it. Does anyone remember the other potty-post I put up a while back? Let’s refresh our memories: click here.

Yes, let’s talk about ridiculous. 

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It just doesn’t look that inviting to me…

 

Wardrobe Malfunction

Throwback Thursday! Here’s a teeny little post from… we’ll say 2007 maybe.

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Scene: At lunch in a quaint little cafe here in Anchorage (Doriola’s)

Me: Blah blabbity blah, I totally need to buy new work clothes. Mine are all old and faded and pilling. I wear the same three sweaters like every day.

Molly: Yeah, blabbity blah, Nordstrom sale…

Me: Mmhmm, but I’m cheep. I shop at Old Navy and JCPenney for my work clothes.

Molly: Oh, you know I like them too, except Old Navy tank tops stretch out in my boob area.

Me: *remembering that I’m wearing an Old Navy tank top beneath sweater #2 (of 3) this very day* Really? Because I don’t have that problem… actually I’m wearing one today!

At this point, I’m reaching down my shirt to investigate whether or not my boob area is stretched out, when I have an epiphany.

Me: oh um, actually maybe I do have that problem, which might explain why I’m WEARING MY SHIRT BACKWARDS. At least it would be a good explanation, had I actually done it on purpose.

So for anyone who has the Old Navy Tank Top Stretchy Booby Issue, just remember that I have test driven the solution: you can just wear it backwards.

You’re welcome.