It's a typical Wednesday in the House of Cheese. She gets home (along with Man and the little one I babysit for an hour or so after school), unloads her crap into the spot where she keeps her shoes and backpack...it's called the living room floor.
Today, is a tad bit different. She has her friend Hot Rod over. Hot Rod is in first grade too. They dump and run, straight outside while my little Buddy is here. Two boys, two girls, life is perfect out in my back yard. They are running, and playing "honey badgers". It seems Hot Rod and Cheese and Buddy are hunters and Man is the badger. I am watching out the window, glass of cold sweet tea in hand when I see "the hunters" run over and poke Man with sticks to ensure that he is in fact a dead badger. It seemed odd to me because I really thought honey badgers didn't give a shit and that they were pretty bad ass. I guess Randall was wrong.
Buddy's dad came along to pick him up about an hour after they got home. He took off with his dad, guess he had had enough of honey badgers trying to eat him. The others march in the back door as Buddy is pulling out of the driveway.
Hot Rod: "It's sooo hot outside, we decided to come in and play since Buddy left."
Man, Cheese and Hot Rod ask if they can play downstairs in the playroom since it is considerably cooler down there. I agree because I know these 3 are fairly responsible kids. OR so I thought....
About another hour goes by and Hot Rod's mom (Prego) and baby brother show up to pick her up. I call for the kids and they come up without hesitation. In this hour I never heard any screaming or throwing of things, just lots of laughs and three kids getting along...that should have been the first sign right there.
The kids are all on the floor playing with the babies, Birdie and Scratch. A few more minutes passes and Prego says "Hot Ride, did you cut your hair?"
Hot Rod turns a little pink but admits that she cut her bangs because they were in her face and she was tired of Scratch pulling them. Thankfully her mom is laid back like me, so it was no big deal. We continue asking questions for all the logistics of what happened.
About 20 minutes later, after deciding I was sure I had not left scissors in the playroom, I was told,
"There are four pairs down there and I used the ones with the red handles!" The greatest thing about Hot Rod is she is NOT a fibber. She will always tell you the truth, even when the truth hurts.
"Well, I don't know how they got down there but man!" I said and before I could finish my train of thought Hot Rod pops back in, "Cheese used them too!!"
Cheese is sitting on the floor in front of me, head down as she has been playing with the babies on the floor. I ask her to turn and look at me. She does, at this point in time, Cheese's hair is actually semi-long. It is past her shoulders, she was growing it out for recital. I look at her face and I finally spot it, upon quick glance it was easily missed. She has chopped two sections of hair up to her ears. Each section is about two inches wide.
I just looked at her and said "Well, no more long hair for recital, we will have to get that cut." I had decided that after Hot Rod left I would call our friend, Gimp, to cut it since she is a hair dresser. We continue talking while Hot Rod is gathering her things and putting her shoes on. About another 20 minutes passes and Man says "Well they cut mine too, and it hurt!!!"
Turns out Man's is invisible other than a giant red circle where it looks like the roots may have been ripped out.
I call Gimp to see if she can fix her hair, I have heard of CPS getting called for less so I am guessing they'd get called for her hair being chopped up. We got to Gimp's house and she puts Cheese in the stool and brushes it out. It is decided that it is fixable, she will just round it out.
She drapes her in the awesome hot pink cape, and grabs her water bottle to wet her down. The first few sprays hit and nothing new comes up, but the wetter her hair gets the more tiny pieces start popping up. What looked like a two inch section became almost a four inch section with pieces as short as an inch.. It was evident that the only way to fix it is to chop the rest off and give her the little bob she always wears.
She loves her new cut, but don't dare ask her what the hell happened, she won't answer.
But after a little research, Prego and I decided that beauty school is way cheaper than Harvard.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Buzz Lightyear to Star Command....do you read?
Sweet Cheese...she can be the most darling little thing and she can also be the most hateful prat that God put on the face of this earth.
This week we had a short week at school which is always a treat. We only have ten days left at this point but Thursday she pleaded for her Monster to spend the night. I agreed, Monster and Cheese had not had a slumber party in a while, Monster's mom is a teacher so she is crazy busy with all the year end things. The afternoon and night go as beautifully as it possibly can. There were no fights, no screaming, no hitting or pulling hair. They just played, they were just little girls. The took baths and went right to bed like sweet angels.
Morning came, and again, we spent it with no effort, just playing. It was like a dream come true. I went early and retrieved Monster's mom, Shit Weasel. She is down a vehicle at the moment so I did what any one's Bitch Monkey would do and went to get her. We got to do something we rarely do together, we zoned out on shitty television while the babes in toyland played. Around lunch we were reaching total saturation, this is the point in time when the girls have had absolutely enough of each other and should be separated because physical violence usually ensues.
All 3 of the big kids, Man, Monster and Cheese whine that they are hungry...do I look like a chef?? I keep sloughing them off and saying "Just a minute" but in Brianna's own words "just a minute never freakin' comes, Mommy". I tell them I will be there soon enough and to go play. They decide that they are going to play Kerplunk only this one is the Toy Story version and it's a rocket that you fill with LGM (Little Green Men) instead of marbles.
Here comes Monster around the corner, pouty face perfectly intact. "She won't let me help her put the sticky things in."
From the kitchen I hear Cheese, "She can put the ay-glee-ins in."
Me: "Okay, Monster, your job is to put the aliens in, so when she is done putting the stick thingies in, it will be your turn."
This seems like the perfect plan...for the perfect storm.
From the kitchen all I can hear is a low rumbling of bitching between the two of them. Both come from the kitchen, which in our house is has 2 entries to the rest of the house, so they each come from a different direction.
"Cheese is putting the aliens in the rocket and that's my job."
"Well she wasn't doing it fast enough so I can help her."
Me: "Well, you put the sticks in and her job is to put the aliens in. That's what YOU decided."
Monster (always so well meaning yet perfectly timed on when it will piss Cheese off the most): "But that's not fair cause you didn't let me help with the stickies."
Cheese: "Life ain't always about being fair...." in her low Johnny Cash voice with her Gaga eyes. She stomps towards her room and in what can ONLY be described the scene from Jurassic Park when the raptors are on the loose, she slams her head sideways into the wall so hard that it makes our kitchen lights flicker and the a/c kick on.
Shit Weasel turns to look at me, and says "What kind of fucked up life lessons are you teaching this child?"
Good ones, Weasel....VERY good ones.
At least I know she has a a huge shot at the role if Spielberg ever needs another raptor...
This week we had a short week at school which is always a treat. We only have ten days left at this point but Thursday she pleaded for her Monster to spend the night. I agreed, Monster and Cheese had not had a slumber party in a while, Monster's mom is a teacher so she is crazy busy with all the year end things. The afternoon and night go as beautifully as it possibly can. There were no fights, no screaming, no hitting or pulling hair. They just played, they were just little girls. The took baths and went right to bed like sweet angels.
Morning came, and again, we spent it with no effort, just playing. It was like a dream come true. I went early and retrieved Monster's mom, Shit Weasel. She is down a vehicle at the moment so I did what any one's Bitch Monkey would do and went to get her. We got to do something we rarely do together, we zoned out on shitty television while the babes in toyland played. Around lunch we were reaching total saturation, this is the point in time when the girls have had absolutely enough of each other and should be separated because physical violence usually ensues.
All 3 of the big kids, Man, Monster and Cheese whine that they are hungry...do I look like a chef?? I keep sloughing them off and saying "Just a minute" but in Brianna's own words "just a minute never freakin' comes, Mommy". I tell them I will be there soon enough and to go play. They decide that they are going to play Kerplunk only this one is the Toy Story version and it's a rocket that you fill with LGM (Little Green Men) instead of marbles.
Here comes Monster around the corner, pouty face perfectly intact. "She won't let me help her put the sticky things in."
From the kitchen I hear Cheese, "She can put the ay-glee-ins in."
Me: "Okay, Monster, your job is to put the aliens in, so when she is done putting the stick thingies in, it will be your turn."
This seems like the perfect plan...for the perfect storm.
From the kitchen all I can hear is a low rumbling of bitching between the two of them. Both come from the kitchen, which in our house is has 2 entries to the rest of the house, so they each come from a different direction.
"Cheese is putting the aliens in the rocket and that's my job."
"Well she wasn't doing it fast enough so I can help her."
Me: "Well, you put the sticks in and her job is to put the aliens in. That's what YOU decided."
Monster (always so well meaning yet perfectly timed on when it will piss Cheese off the most): "But that's not fair cause you didn't let me help with the stickies."
Cheese: "Life ain't always about being fair...." in her low Johnny Cash voice with her Gaga eyes. She stomps towards her room and in what can ONLY be described the scene from Jurassic Park when the raptors are on the loose, she slams her head sideways into the wall so hard that it makes our kitchen lights flicker and the a/c kick on.
Shit Weasel turns to look at me, and says "What kind of fucked up life lessons are you teaching this child?"
Good ones, Weasel....VERY good ones.
At least I know she has a a huge shot at the role if Spielberg ever needs another raptor...
Friday, April 20, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
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."
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."
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
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!
"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!
Monday, April 16, 2012
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.
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.
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