Babies and Floppy Boobs

A few nights ago Cheese stated that she didn't know if she ever wanted kids but she should know by the time she is a teenager and she would just have one then. After much argument from her father and I about how having babies when you are a teenager is NOT a good idea (much to her dismay) she finally settled on she would have a baby after college. Good choice for Cheese. *applauds Cheese*

I thought the discussion of babies was over but apparently not.

Early yesterday morning, around 6:15 or so I woke Brianna up and told her it was time for school. Funny thing, I woke her up in MY bed...some bad dream, blah blah blah, my tummy hurts, my head hurts, there's a monster, etc. landed sweet Cheese in my bed around one in the morning. I wake her up and head her up to her room to get dressed. I bring my clothes along too because I am needed to get dressed to take them to school.

I turn my back to her to put on my bra. I hurry as many questions are flying like "why is your bra pink...that makes it sexy. Why are you wearing a sexy bra to school?"  I turn back toward the bed where my shirt was laying and before I could get it pulled over my head I feel a small hand smack my chest. I kindly tell the Cheese that smacking my chest is not appropriate. Shirt is on, THANK GOD. Then as I am trying to get Cheese dressed she pokes me and says "boobies". Trying to ignore it so that it will go away is not working at this moment.

Finally I tell her to stop, she is dressed and needs to get her shoes and head to the kitchen. She looks at me so sweet and innocent like. I should always know better when I see that little half smile and the angelic Lady Gaga eyes because that usually means I am about to hear something that is going to probably hurt my feelings.

"Mommy...you have floppy boobs. Why are your boobs floppy? I don't have floppy boobs."

"It is what happens when you have kids and you are too small to have floppy boobs, get your shoes and get in the kitchen now."

"Well I'm never having kids then because I don't want to be a fat momma with floppy boobs."

*kicks her in the ass*

"Get in the kitchen now."

Exit stage right Floppy Boobs and all.

Cupcakes OR Sex....

January 2010, Daddy's birthday.....

Kids are in school all day so I take the opportunity to bake all the things that Daddy likes. I made 2 pans of brownies, 3 dozen or so cupcakes, a cake. (I was also unknowingly pregnant at the time if you couldn't tell.) The kids come home as everything is still cooling and help me decorate the cupcakes and arrange the brownies on the plate for him.  It is beautiful but I tell them they have to wait until after dinner to eat any of it. That was that and they went on about their business.

Flash forward a couple of hours ~

We are at dinner at the local Mexican restaurant, as tradition we celebrate there for everyone's birthday. We are finishing up our food when Brianna begins ask for fried ice cream. Since I had made so much stuff at home we politely told her no.

*POUT*

She asks again, and grandpa told her no, not tonight.

*BIG POUT*

She asks grandma, again she is told no.

*BIGGER POUT*

She asks me again. I respond and say "no not tonight. We can have daddy's cupcakes when we get home."

"OR WE CAN HAVE SEX?!?!?!"

"What? Did you say six?"

"Nope - SEX!!"

I cover my face because I am trying not to smile, I am trying not to say anything, my body starts shaking with the silent laugh that is now hurting my chest. Daddy is still staring at her in obvious disbelief, grandpa is laughing hysterically and grandma is just not sure what to do.

"I said OR WE CAN HAVE SEX!!!!!!!"

Now that the ENTIRE restaurant is looking at our table...

The tab is quickly paid, my head is laying on table and my face is red as I am gasping for breath...

"What mommy, it's just sex..."

Would you like some cupcakes??? OR JUST SEX??

Squanto 3

As I am typing this, it is happening. After seeing Squanto on the computer she made a face and ran to the kitchen where is watching over us on my little knick knack cabinet.

She is in there right now...

"I need to have a talk with you Squanto...get down here right now!"

"Squanto, why did you get onto Mommy's facebook? You are not allowed to use it because she said I am not allowed to use it. I am going to go outside to play and you can't come because you are grounded for being on mommy's facebooks."

"Why did you tell her to take a picture of you?? You are such a smart ass and now you are going to bed right now!"

*Stalks back to the bedroom with Squanto in hand...grumbling something inaudible*

*Mommy is taking deep breaths.*

Squanto part 2

A conversation:

Me "Where did Squanto go?" *knowing she threw him behind her bed.*

Cheese "Oh, you know, he just went to Squanto School.So he can be with all the other Squantos."

Me *retaining all smiles and controlling the urge to burst out laughing* "What does one learn at Squanto School?"

Cheese "Squanto stuff."



*Watching Pocahontas for the first time since receiving Squanto into our home*

Cheese  "Oh my God! MOMMY!! Squanto is her dad!!!"



To her father:

Cheese: "Daddy, Squanto is watching and he will tell mommy."

Squanto

 The 2010-2011 time frame marked Cheese's kindergarten year...so much to learn. SO much to know. Cheese already knew lots of things when she started school, like her colors, some of her numbers, how to cut things, and how to color. (You would be surprised by the alarming amount of children who start school never having held a pair of scissors or having colored in a coloring book.)

The months passed and she learned various things from her teachers. But approaching the holiday season she began to learn about the first Thanksgiving. Know not of the pilgrims, does she. The only person this child recollects any information relayed to her about the first Thanksgiving is Squanto. Sure we all know the story of Squanto. The first American Indian to help the pilgrims survive their first fall & winter here in the Americas. "He teached them to grow corn and stuff." "He knowed how to fish real good."We learned various things about Squanto over the course of Thanksgiving.

At our school we have "treasure box", a wonderful bin filled with discarded kid meal toys of yesteryear, crap from the dollar store among other fabulous find, like stuffed animals that this mom continually donates only to find that is what my child chose in the treasure box for her good behavior or class participation. (I learned very quickly to donate it to OTHER classrooms so I quit getting it back.) One day during the teachings of the First Thanksgiving, I guess my Cheese was on her best behavior and got to go into the treasure box only to arrive home with this.....

A BEAUTIFUL plastic figure of an Indian. She was so thrilled with this figure, she came home with SQUANTO!!! (Isn't he glorious? I love the sheen of his plastic.)

She rattled off random "Squanto Facts" to us over dinner, as he danced across the table. "Be careful, He'll shoot you with his bow. That's how he got his pee pee cloth, he shot a deer with his bow. It might hurt."

We played "hide and Squanto seeks" all evening with him peeping around our dinner dishes. Soon the dishes were cleared and we were preparing our two oldest, Cheese and Man for bed, 6 AM comes early to them. She quickly bathes and runs to her room to get dressed. As I am finishing cleaning up the dinner mess she comes around the corner with this very very serious face and asks for a towel and a box. When I ask her why she proceeds to tell me that she needs to make a bed for Squanto to sleep in.

I help her construct this bed for Squanto. We use an old piece of scrap fabric, and a pillow from her baby dolls. I suggest the Barbie bed but she says it is too pink. (Please keep in mind that he only moves at the waist, neck and shoulder joints.) She tucks him into his bed made of a blanket and pillow on her art desk stool and scoots him next to the bed.

She climbs into her bed and I quietly kiss her forehead and tell her I love her. She makes sure that I tell Squanto good night and that I also kiss him. (Good thinking on my part for cloroxing him when she brought him in...hello shit loads of kid germs.) I turn off the light and leave Cheese and Squanto to their beauty sleep.

Fast forward 1 hour...I hear a faint yelp from the Cheese, "Mooooooooooooooommy." I go back and open the door and she is sitting upright in her bed. She looks me dead in the face with her big Lady Gaga saucer eyes and says "Can you turn Squanto's head? I get nervous when he looks at me like that."

Squanto, can you please look away. I get nervous too when you watch every breath I take.

Splatter Poop...

We are getting ready for bed last night, late as usual, and I was putting away some clothing left from closet clean out extravaganza. Cheese was sitting on her messy bed (as usual) reading a book called Life Size Zoo.

It's a pretty fantastic book, about 15 inches tall, each 2 page spread is one of one animal with a lot of facts. Cheese LOVES this book, she loves all books, but this one is one of her very favorites.

She proceeds to tell me all about the giraffe, the gorilla, the zebra. I get every piece of knowledge that the book has to offer. I even get the teacher style showing of the pictures, the cover of the book tucked against her belly as she waves the images across the room like she is reading to a crowd of kids instead of just one mom.

It's a beautiful thing having an intelligent kid who loves to read...except when she is being lazy. We are approaching her favorite animal, the TIGER....oooooh scary.  *insert sarcasm here* The two pages show big gnarling teeth, a sandpaper like tongue. It looks as if it is going to dine on us for dinner. Along the right page of the book are several facts about the beloved tiger. I get all sorts of knowledge such as,
"This page shows just how big a tiger head is, it's almost as big as daddy's."
"Looks at his big tongue, it is rough like sandpaper and it not only cleans his fur, mommy, but it rips all the muscles off the bones of the things it eats!" Really? Fantastic! Can we get one as a pet? Please....

That handy dandy yellow stripe going down the far right side is information about this particular tiger, like his name (Baito in case you wanted to know...I didn't.) How old he is, (5 years when the book was published in case you wanted to know...again, I didn't.)  It also talks about some of the visible features of the cat, like it's black lips and 4 large fangs. I was getting a close up at this point...you know I now know Baito's mouth very well thanks to my Cheese grinding the crease of the book into my nose. Directly under this information are "FACTS!"

Cheese, without reading, sees the the tiger drawn from behind and proclaims "Watch out, he is gonna poop!!" I watch her eyes scanning the page and then she says "Do you want to know what kind of poops tigers make?"

"Hmmm, my guess is cat poops."

"Nope mommy...not cat poops! It says right here on this drawing that the tiger makes splatter poops!"

Now giggling silently going into convulsions I get an explanation of what "splatter poop" is. I will spare you the details that I can only wish I had been spared.

I explained that she should check the book every body poops, but that might prove that she is wrong about splatter poops so we do NOT get that book out. Instead we continue to show everyone in the house that will listen the picture of the tiger spraying his territory and exclaiming that "Tigers have splatter poops!!"

I always thought splatter poops is what you got when you ate bad food or drank too much...apparently all it requires is being a tiger.

My tooshie is squishy

Cheese is so many things, and musically inclined is one of them. She likes to make up her songs, march to her own beat and she is pretty good at it. There are always songs being made up in our house so it's nothing new to me, like the other day when she was trying to entertain the Bird she was singing "Don't.. go... slow... like... a... turtle" and it was sung very slowly. Then the second line was "Go fast like a rabbit!!!!!!" and it was sung very quickly. Keep in mind the 20's style stage show that was happening with this. *View from the side with a train like motion to the beat of her song. VERY interesting.* It is just natural to hear things of this nature in our house.

What's NOT natural is her ability to pull these from her rear end at any given moment. She showered the other night, and by showered, I mean ran through 50 gallons of hot water before deciding it was everyone else's turn to shower. I sent her to her room wrapped in a towel still dripping water and told her I would follow suite and be there shortly.

I start down the hall and here one of her jazzy tunes emanating from her bedroom. Upon arrival to her doorway I hear,

"I like my toooooshie! I like my tooshie, caaause it's squiiiishy! I like my toooooshie! I like my tooshie cause it's big and round!"

I peek around the corner and there is naked Cheese jumping up and down on her bed, shaking her head like a wet dog, flinging water over everything. She stops, looks me in the face and then immediately begins bouncing again. Her song starts over, only this time we have added lyrics...

"I like my toooooshie! I like my tooshie, caaause it's squiiiishy! I like my toooooshie! I like my tooshie cause it's big and round! I like my tooooshie cause it's squishy! I like my tooshie and so...does...my...MOM!"

So apparently, we both like her tooshie, cause it's squishy. Awesome.

Super Pecker

Beanie babies...Cheese loves them! So much so that I am pretty sure we have every beanie in existence in our basement in their playroom. (Well we did until the lassholes struck and I left them in the black bags of doom as they got marched to the dumpsters on garbage day! It was a bit like the plague only worse because it was lassholes, the things that happen and toys are decimated.)

We have one named Eggbert, or so his tag says. It's a sweet little chick popping out of an egg.

He remained Eggbert for a long time because she was very small when Grandma B decided we needed all of her beanies on top of the mountains we already had. Then one day, Monster was here playing with Cheese. (Monster is Cheese's BFF) They were playing stuffed animals in the playroom when Cheese runs up the stairs 2 at a time, proclaiming she FINALLY had a name for the lonely chick in an egg...Super Pecker.

Yep, Super Pecker ~ "cause his beak is so strong and that makes him super cause he pecked his way out of the egg."

 The more we told her she could come up with a better name the more she fought for Super Pecker. She could be a lawyer because when she decides she wants something she goes after it. So Super Pecker it is. We now have a beanie baby that seems as if it should be something from an adult catalog. 

It's a bird, It's a plane....IT'S SUPER PECKER.

Lassholes...

Christmas Eve 2011 marked one year since the invasion of Lassholes. Actually it was lice.

12-24-10 ~ I was getting the kids ready for my parents to take them to their great grandparent's house for Christmas while we finished up some stuff around the house for dinner that night. I was parting her hair to get it pulled up into a side do when I see little black things crawling around in her head. Yep...lice. I break the news to her that she can't go to papa's house because she has bugs in her hair. This was my worst nightmare, a girl with longish (shoulder length) hair getting lice. It had been a nightmare the year before when her brother came home with them and his head is shaved.

For hours Cheese sat holding a coveted present from under the tree while my mom treated her head. I couldn't because I was pregnant with her baby sister at the time. We were able to enjoy our family dinner that night after sweet Cheese had sat for almost 6 hours having her hair picked over like a monkey looking for bugs. We stripped ALL of the beds in the house, threw away pillows, washed blankets and favorite lovies on sanitary, bagged up tons and tons and tons of stuffed animals and as we are throwing the last bits away and spraying everything down with a listerine/water mix (works 10x better than the "home spray" in the lice kit) Cheese looks at me very seriously, and with her best big girl voice says "I cannot believe I got LASSHOLES for Christmas!"

Merry Lice-mas to all and to all a goodnight, Lassholes.

Introduction to Cheese

My daughter Brianna, affectionately known as Cheese, is my oldest daughter. She is everything you would want in a child and more...

She is beautiful, with big blue piercing eyes that can reach the far depths of your soul. She has a hot pink highlight in her dirty blonde hair, and she has Cleopatra bangs - just straight across. She is artistic, always carrying a pad around so she can draw things, and a writer, she writes me little stories all the time. She is a dancer, athletic in so many ways, she is a girl scout, she is kind, caring and sensitive when she wants to be.  She is also a sometimes biter and she has a mouth like a sailor (that's 'and more' part of her). She is also six and half years old.

Some of the best laughs in my life have come from this child. There are so many things I wish I had written down over the last 6 years but failed to do so. So many times I rack my brain trying to remember what made me go into hysterics. This is where I am going to write them down. This is where you can read what is said to me and say "HOLY SHIT" because there are so many days that I think the same thing.

I want to take a moment and welcome you to my world...the world of a six year old dropping the F bomb. The kid who's first sentence was "Dammit Kaden!" (Kaden is her big brother.) I hope you enjoy the ride, as much as I have and will.

Welcome to my life with Cheese.