Big butts make BIG farts.

I am almost ashamed to post this one...ALMOST.

Big Poppa farted, as daddy's tend to do once and a while, and it was very loud.

 The Cheese, from another room, laughs out loud and says "I HEARD THAT!"

The night continues without another word. As Big Poppa is getting his things ready for work the next day Cheese is being her usual "I don't want to go to bed because I can run off 8 minutes of sleep for 2 weeks" six-year-old self. She keeps hitting her daddy in the back and butt.

On the last punch to the ass Big Poppa farts in her general direction. (At least I am not a hamster and her father does not smell of elderberries.) She holds her nose and very loudly exclaims "YOUR FART WAS BIG LIKE GRANDMA'S!!!"

*Fits of convulsive laughter begin now*
*Texts Grandma to let her know what is being said, Grandma replies 'I'm not keeping anymore of her secrets either then.'*

Cheese goes running to her room and then opens the door to tell me she is ready for bed. Not another word from her about farting like Grandma.I tuck her in and get the Bird and myself ready for bed also. Big Poppa is already in bed, he leaves in the wee hours of the morn to go to work.

The next morning I awake to Gaga-esque eyes staring at me from the side of my bed. (It's so creepy waking up to this every Saturday morning. You think by this time I would be used to it but it's just not working out that way.) She says nothing and crawls into bed with me.

We lay there for a moment, a shared mother/daughter moment of sweetness and innocence...lost to the first words out of her mouth....

"To make big farts like Grandma you need a really big butt...Daddy has a huge butt!"

Hello Saturday...I've been waiting for you.

Again, we go on about our business, nothing more is said. She gets ready for dance and we head off with our dance bag, water bottles and Cheese. I drop her off and enjoy my hour and a half without her, doing nothing much else but waiting for her.

We get into the car, and when there are 10 little dance friends running to their cars to this can be quite the feat. And she looks at me and says quite honestly, "I need to go home and wash my body in a shower because when daddy put that big fart on me it made me stink like hell."

*Hangs head and stifles the laughter that should ensue.*

I guess we better go get some Lever because that fart penetrated all 2000 parts.

Peeing in the pool...

Cheese: "Hey mommy! I was told at school today you should never drink pool water because babies use the potty in there."

Okay, not exactly sure how we got to this topic tonight while watching NCIS and eating Chinese for dinner..I thought Cheese might want a taste of the old country.

Me: "Well, I know for a fact that you have peed in your pools so are you a baby?"

Cheese: "I don't know how to get my bathing suit off!"

Me: "Um well, there are ways. I guess I will have to show you how to do it."

Cheese: "I just pee through my suit because pee can go through a bathing suit. There are tiny holes in it that the pee can go through. I think you are supposed to pee in your suit...it makes it warm when you are cold."

*Gag and a giggle*
Cheese, putting the P in Pool since 2005.

Me: "You are NOT supposed to pee in your suit, that's gross. And you are NOT supposed to pee in the pool, also gross."

Cheese: "Well I do know one thing, you can't poop in your bathing suit. Those tiny holes aren't big enough for the poop to go through, it would smash into you and be gross."

*Blank stare*

Cheese: "Well you can't. It just won't go."

*Continued blank stare*

Cheese: "It's true, it really is."

*Texting Weasel as fast as my fingers of fury will type*

*Cue Jeopardy music waiting for a reply while Cheese stuffs Cap'n Crunch in her mouth and apparently ended said conversation with me*

The Reply:

Weasel: "Well, technically, she is right :)"

Me: "I know...it's just...how the fuck did I get here? Not even like to this point in my life but to this particular conversation?"

Weasel: "Was she wearing a bathing suit?"

Me: "Nope."

Weasel: "She's a hot mess."

Me: "Yep."

*Closing my eyes for a moment to reflect on tonight's conversation*

Do you want to come swimming with me? I know a great place. 

Girl Hair...

Nearing the end of Spring break, we are in the car traveling to our zoo. Big Poppa (my husband) is talking about the new Avengers movie and how I need to see Captain America, Iron Man 2, and Thor.

B.P. "Man, you really loved Thor didn't you?"

Man: "Yeah it was awesome! I want a big hammer like that!"

Cheese: "Thor has girl hair. It's gross when boys have girl hair, I don't like it. I think it makes Thor a sissy."

*I snicker because I find it funny...even though comics are the one thing Big Poppa loves I still think it's hilarious*

B.P.: "They couldn't get haircuts back then so everyone had long hair."

Cheese: " So everyone had girl hair? I still think it's dumb."

B.P.: "Jesus had girl hair then, you can't argue with that because you love Jesus."

Cheese: "I only love Jesus when he is a baby, like at Christmas."

Cue in Ricky Bobby..."Dear Lord, Baby Jesus."

Boogers are like nachos!

Another failed attempt to finish homework and as I am reading directions to myself I realize that Cheese has taken off. Calling for her she appears out of her bedroom doorway walking toward me. I go back to reading and look up again when I see her feet before mine on the floor.

"Okay Cheese," I say before looking up to explain the page to her, only to find her elbow deep in her nose.

"That's really gross! You need to quit and wash your hands," sentence completed and just as I think she MIGHT be doing as I ask her finger, covered in slime, goes into her mouth.

Stifling my gag reflex, I again tell her to go wash her hands and that picking her nose is gross. I explain that's how people spread all the germs that she doesn't want.

*blank stare in return*

"Cheese please go wash your hands."

*Looks at me with Gaga eyes*

"I like to eat boogers, they make my fingers taste like nachos."

*Gag. Hold it in. Gag again. Refrain from puking.*

"Go wash your hands," I stand up and walk away.

Who wants dinner? I am thinking NACHOS!

Was I scared?

Sometimes I think my daughter wants to be an adopted child....

Cheese:  Mommy, was I scared on the plane when you came and got me?

Me: Um, when did I come and get you? You have never been on a plane.

Cheese: Yes I have! Don't you remember when you came and got me from China?

Me: Well, no I don't because you are not Chinese and you did not come from China.

Cheese: Yes I did! I know Chinese! (Insert rambling here and then hit the mother load...) Chee Cho Chay! Mommy, that means I love you!

Me: Well then, I guess a change in your paperwork at school is due.

Cheese:  OK! *Happily skips away blowing bubbles for her baby sister*

Sometimes I stare off into space after our conversations and wonder what the hell just happened.

The F#%@ING Circus Part 2

Picking up where I left off before, I feel this story needed to be broken into 2 posts. 

THE TICKETS ARRIVE:

I open them, text Mall-or-ree that they have arrived. (She and I are both as excited as Brianna about going to the circus so a squeal of excitement happens when I rip open the envelope.) I hang the tickets on the fridge and go on about my day.

She steps off the bus with a smile on her face...it is almost as if she can smell the tickets from outside. She runs inside and I ask why she is so happy.

"For nothing, I just had a good day."

Well kid, your day is about to get even brighter! I show her the tickets, her mouth drops open and the words come out in a whisper.

"It is our tickets to the fucking circus, my heart is so excited about this that it is beating really fast like when I run in gym." (It is her choice of wording and her choice of clothing that leads me to believe she is the real life version of Junie B. Jones)

Flash forward 2 weeks...It's April 7, 2012. It is circus day! Mall-or-ree and I counted down the minutes until the "big day". (It is kind of sad that this was the biggest thing happening for me as of late.)

So yesterday I get up at 6 a.m. to make sure I have everything packed. We need to leave our house by 9 and I was prepping for two kids, Cheese and Bird. (Bird is only 10 months old so you have to drag along a lot of crap for her.) I get the diapers packed, I make an extra bottle to take, I make sure I have binkies for the Bird. I then pack my wallet with cash for her to buy goodies with, and the tickets because we would get nowhere real quick without them. I pack my phone and camera. I realize this only took an hour and I still have time so I am able to make myself at least half way presentable for the day. (It was an exciting moment for me because I didn't HAVE to wear a pony tail, I had time to fix my hair.)

At 8 a.m., with no help from me and no help from alarm, as I am opening the door her little body springs from the bed like it was on a pulley system.

"Is it time for the circus?? I am so excited that it feels like there things in my tummy."

Well then...on that note let's get dressed.

She is decked out in a tutu, leggings and her circus shirt (thank Auntie Lee!) and her elephant earrings. We are ready to go. I wish there was a way to bottle her energy and excitement. We quickly pick up Mall-or-ree and head to arena where the circus is at. She is almost running to get in but knows she has to stay close.  We walk in and her body is vibrating she is so excited. Her little hands in her mouth.

It's been a while since she has said "We are going to the fucking circus" and even with prompting she doesn't say it. She is finally there, a month after tickets were purchased, it is her dream come true (a 2nd time because we went last year too.)

Of course there are merchandise booths everywhere and her eyes are aglow with what things may come. I told her we would wait until the end to look at things because they were doing a pre-show where the kids could come into the arena.

We make out way to our section and seats. The arena floor is covered in people, there is a bounce house, CLOWNS EVERYWHERE and some Shaolin monks doing T'ai Chi. There is also a poodle doing tricks.

Cheese looks down and freezes in fear, all she can see is clowns everywhere. Funny, she LOVES the circus but hates clowns. I tell her we don't have to go down to floor if she doesn't want to, we can just chill. (So glad Mall-or-ree is as chilled as we are.)

"Clowns really freak my freak mommy. They are super scary. I am NOT going down there."

That's cool with me and I am pretty sure it's cool with Mall-or-ree because she hiked in with Bird. But then she sees the poodle jumping through hoops. I fucking hate poodles, they are so foo-foo and mean.

"I want to go see the poodle Mommy. I thought you said they were mean but that one isn't mean, it's doing tricks and jumping through a hoop and there is a lady in sparkles. I want to see the poodle mommy!"

We pick up our stuff and head to the floor, as we step onto the black squishy flooring in place for the circus she managed to bob and weave through the sea of clowns. She is working hard to get to that damn poodle. She wants not to stop at any point along the way. We make it to the poodle ring, the furthest one away of course and now it is no longer poodles but a hula hooper spinning with about 20 hoops on her waist. I can barely do one since I had kids let alone 20. I am amazed (which obviously takes very little.)

There is some kind of clown dance thing going on behind us, for obvious reasons Cheese wanted NOTHING to do with it. So we continue watching. She gets to see an elephant so close she could have touched it, and it was painting a picture. She got to see one of the silk ribbon dancers up close and personal as she danced in the air just above our heads. She got to see jack russells perform. All delighting in "those are Chester dogs mommy!" (We have a jack named Chester.) 

She turns and see the monks just as it is time to go back to our seats because the show would be starting in 15 minutes or so. The stairs seemed so few coming down, but going back up with a 25 pound baby is a different story. We get to our seats and get settled. She is talking a mile a minute and I am not catching much of it, we are just trying to settle in with all of the crap I had to bring with me. I realized that when she saw this...

that she really saw this...

and she asked "How did they get airbenders here?!"

I knew her daddy would be ever so proud. (Those of you who don't know what this is, google Avatar: the last airbender."

All of a sudden, the lights go dark and the big booming voice of the ringmaster begins to emanate from the PA system. She is on the edge of her seat waiting to see and hear everything said and done. Her Gaga-esque eyes back out, facing the floor we had just been standing on that the workers had transformed into a floor for the opener in less than 10 minutes. (Again, I was amazed...see how little it really takes. Sad.) She is taking it all in, the costumes, the huge screens with dragons on them, the lights, the music, the dancing. It is such a beautiful thing on her face, so sweet and innocent.(Which we do NOT get to see all that often.) It is a momentous occasion. She is at the fucking circus and it is the grandest thing she has done since the circus last year. Excitement is bubbling out of her, her chair vibrating with energy. She stands up and then sits down, then stands up again, then sits down on her knees. (Never mind that we had to move her seat one over because the lady with the 3 seats in front of us chose to sit in front of Cheese and her beehive hair blocked her view.) 

Then all of a sudden Cheese spots a little person. He dressed as a clown but without the make up. He is next to the ringmaster so he must be important, you can see the thoughts crossing her mind as she is deciding what to say to me. He is dancing, he is jumping, he is doing all sorts of awesome things and his name is Paolo. With a face as serious as a heart attack she looks at me and says...

"I want that little man. I want to bring him home."

And that my friends, is how you enjoy the fucking circus when you are six years old.

The F#%&ING Circus part 1

This blog post has been coming for a while. Technically this is the one that "started it all" as they say. Who are "they"? Anyway, this is the mother of all "the shit my Cheese says" posts. Warning, there is foul language because she wouldn't truly be my child if there wasn't. Enjoy.

It was early one morning, as usual, trying to rush to get them ready for school. Backpacks and lunch money flying, cereal being poured, the news on the television. There sat my "angels", Cheese in the seat with her back to the t.v. slurping up milk from her cereal, milk dripping from her chin as she chews with her mouth open...was she raised in a barn you ask? Why yes, yes she was. Thanks. The Man (my son) was sitting facing the t.v. watching the news, because at eight years old you need to be up on current events and world affairs. And in the high chair, my sweet Bird enjoying her morning pre-bottle snack.

The morning show on the local station is doing this and that, I'm not totally awake so I don't really here anything other than that sound that comes out of the teacher on Charlie Brown. "Wah, wah, wah wah wah, wah." They break for commercial and I am watching, mug in hand. A commercial for The Ringling Brother and Barnum & Bailey Circus came on.

The t.v. bellowed, "It's the greeeeeeeeeeeatest show on Earth!"

Cheese whipped her head around, GaGa eyes out, staring down the television.

The announcer continues, "Come experience the mystifying show with death defying stunts, The Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey present Dragons!"

Cheese averts her Gaga-esque eyes toward me, in a very low whisper, "Oh my God, it's the FUCKING CIRCUS!"

*Shocked* "What honey?"

"It's the circus!! Man look! It's the circus! I need to go to the circus now!"

The man responds, "I'm not going. It was kind of dumb."

I look at the clock, it's that magical time where if I don't get them scooted out the door the junior and senior high bus will pass and we will get stuck behind it. I move them to the car and we are driving down the street.

"I cannot believe the fucking circus is back Mommy!"

"Me either Cheese. How bad do you want to go?"

*still ignoring her word choice*

"So bad, I want to see the elephants, and the horses, and..." I am cutting off there because I don't think she took another breath until we reached the school...7 more minutes from the time I asked the question.

Of course, I have to visit my friends in the school and relay this story. My texting fingers got a little more calloused that day as well. It is decided...1) I must start a blog for all the shit she says and 2) we are going to the fucking circus.

All day, as I am working on projects, writing the first entry to this very blog, I keep giggling about the fucking circus. I can't keep my mind off of it so I have to see what times and prices. A mere half hour later I am the proud owner of 3 tickets to the fucking circus.

It's all set, April 7 we will be going to the fucking circus. It was going to be Cheese, Mall-or-ree, and me going to said circus. Man really didn't want to go, and it never crossed my mind to invite Monster because it just didn't strike as something she'd be interested in.

That afternoon when she got off the bus and strode to the house I could tell it had been a long day. Originally I was not going to tell her about the tickets but her little shoulders just seemed slumped and her head was hung low so upon entering the castle I told her we got tickets.

"OH MY GOD", running laps around our house because in the genius design the kitchen, living room, and hall all connect like a giant race track, "I HAVE TICKETS TO THE FUCKING CIRCUS!!!!"

"I HAVE TO CALL GRANDMA AND TELL HER I HAVE TICKETS TO THE FUCKING CIRCUS!!!"

Um, no. No you don't need to tell Grandma about the fucking circus. Just not a good idea.