A snippet of Adam and my dinner time conversation:
"Ouch!"
"What happened?"
"I cracked my feet knuckles!"
"Your what?"
"My feet knuckles."
"What are those?"
"You know, the knuckles in your feet. Jeesh."
After that, he started randomly singing a song; a song where I recognized the melody, but not quite the lyrics, according to Adam, "We found love in a hopeless place" by Rhianna, goes something like this:
You have blood travel in your veins,
you have blood travel in your veins.....
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
"Rabbit Rose" and the Groundhog
The week is young, and already my son has bestowed several gems of a saying upon us. I am going to share two of my favorites. The first one is "Rabbit Rose".
I met a couple of friends at a local park after school a couple of days ago for a playdate. The sun was shining, the skies were blue, the park was crowded, and it was nice for Adam and myself to catch up with friends. After a few rounds of tag and basically just running around the playstructure, Adam and his friend took to the grass and started spinning each other around. They came running over when I asked Adam what they were playing.
"Rabbit Rose." He exclaimed.
"What?"
"Rabbit Rose. Watch."
They started giggling the jingle and going around in a circle. I recognized the melody and the only coherent part I could catch was 'ashes, ashes, they all fall down." (That was a favorite of theirs, throwing themselves on the ground.) Well this game of Rabbit Rose got to be a bit intense as they started swinging each wildly, with Adam letting go and flying into one of the slides, knocking himself on the side of the head. Needless to say, he wasn't happy. Who knew childhood games could be so dangerous? AFter a few "I don't like him anymore!" minutes, he and his friend made up, and happily played until it was time to go. In the car, I asked Adam to sing the song for me, and it goes something like this (Oh, and he did it in a heavy metal tone, emphasis on the ashes, ashes lyric!)
Ring a rabbit rosie
A pocket full of cozy
Ashes ashes we all fall down.
Hey, who wouldn't want a pocket full of cozy?
And now, the groundhog. Apparantly Puxatawny Phil was a learning lesson in class the other day, and the kids decided to make a game up called "groundhog." Not quite sure how it goes as Adam was explaining it, because Michael and I were laughing so hard when he told us about "PHUXatway PILL." Um, honey....that's not how you say it!!
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog.....
I met a couple of friends at a local park after school a couple of days ago for a playdate. The sun was shining, the skies were blue, the park was crowded, and it was nice for Adam and myself to catch up with friends. After a few rounds of tag and basically just running around the playstructure, Adam and his friend took to the grass and started spinning each other around. They came running over when I asked Adam what they were playing.
"Rabbit Rose." He exclaimed.
"What?"
"Rabbit Rose. Watch."
They started giggling the jingle and going around in a circle. I recognized the melody and the only coherent part I could catch was 'ashes, ashes, they all fall down." (That was a favorite of theirs, throwing themselves on the ground.) Well this game of Rabbit Rose got to be a bit intense as they started swinging each wildly, with Adam letting go and flying into one of the slides, knocking himself on the side of the head. Needless to say, he wasn't happy. Who knew childhood games could be so dangerous? AFter a few "I don't like him anymore!" minutes, he and his friend made up, and happily played until it was time to go. In the car, I asked Adam to sing the song for me, and it goes something like this (Oh, and he did it in a heavy metal tone, emphasis on the ashes, ashes lyric!)
Ring a rabbit rosie
A pocket full of cozy
Ashes ashes we all fall down.
Hey, who wouldn't want a pocket full of cozy?
And now, the groundhog. Apparantly Puxatawny Phil was a learning lesson in class the other day, and the kids decided to make a game up called "groundhog." Not quite sure how it goes as Adam was explaining it, because Michael and I were laughing so hard when he told us about "PHUXatway PILL." Um, honey....that's not how you say it!!
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog.....
Monday, January 30, 2012
"Grossing in" and Tales from the Crypt
This is a two part short story of another one of Adam's gem of a saying, and how he frightened the poor l teen babysitter at the YMCA adventure zone today. First, the barf story:
Adam came home from school on Friday. As we do when we pick him up from the bus stop, we asked how his day was, who he played with, what activities he did, etc...etc...When we asked him if he ate his lunch he stated firmly, "no."
"Why not?" Michael asked.
"Well....because a kid throwed (sic) up in the cafeteria."
"Did you see it happen?" I asked.
"No, but I saw it on the floor after....it grossed me IN."
trying to stifle our laughter, we both said, "what? "
"It grossed me in." Adam repeated.
"It grossed you IN?" repeated Michael.
"Yeah."
"Not out but in?" I inquired.
"Yeah. It grossed me in."
We were laughing too much to correct him!
And now time for "Tales of the Crypt Keeper" and how a sweet little 5 year old boy frightened the bejeesus out of a teen girl.:
Today, I dropped off Adam at the YMCA Adventure Zone to play while I did my spinning thing. Almost an hour later, I came back downstairs to pick him up, but he was busy drawing something and wanted a little more time. Over the noise I couldn't hear what he was telling me (and he wouldn't get up from the table for fear that I would make him leave the "zone"), so one of the young girls watching the kids walked over to ask him what he was saying, so she could relay to me. All I could hear of the conversation was "Mexico." I instantly knew what he was drawing and what he was talking about. The stunned look on her face confirmed my suspicions.
She turned ever so slowly walked towards me, the color drained from her face and a very concerned expression overcame her.
She stood in front of me, and for a few seconds was speechless.
"Crypt keeper?" I asked.
she nodded.
"He say he's in Mexico?"
"yup." She was silent a few more seconds then relayed his message. "He said he's drawing the crypt keeper and that he lives in Mexico. He comes back here when someone isn't living anymore and needs to go to the ground." gulp. After he told her this tale, he nonchalantly went back to drawing.
I tried to assure her that he's a sweet boy, he's just been fascinated with Halloween, skeletons, zombies and the macabre since he was 2. He's never tortured anything, he's never picked a fight with anyone, in fact he's a kissable, lovable, sweet little boy despite his nutty obsession! (And prior to our trip to the Y, he very gently released the butterflies he had grown in his habitat.)
"Well maybe he'll be a director or do movies." She smiled. "He has quite the imagination."
That he does....
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
Adam came home from school on Friday. As we do when we pick him up from the bus stop, we asked how his day was, who he played with, what activities he did, etc...etc...When we asked him if he ate his lunch he stated firmly, "no."
"Why not?" Michael asked.
"Well....because a kid throwed (sic) up in the cafeteria."
"Did you see it happen?" I asked.
"No, but I saw it on the floor after....it grossed me IN."
trying to stifle our laughter, we both said, "what? "
"It grossed me in." Adam repeated.
"It grossed you IN?" repeated Michael.
"Yeah."
"Not out but in?" I inquired.
"Yeah. It grossed me in."
We were laughing too much to correct him!
And now time for "Tales of the Crypt Keeper" and how a sweet little 5 year old boy frightened the bejeesus out of a teen girl.:
Today, I dropped off Adam at the YMCA Adventure Zone to play while I did my spinning thing. Almost an hour later, I came back downstairs to pick him up, but he was busy drawing something and wanted a little more time. Over the noise I couldn't hear what he was telling me (and he wouldn't get up from the table for fear that I would make him leave the "zone"), so one of the young girls watching the kids walked over to ask him what he was saying, so she could relay to me. All I could hear of the conversation was "Mexico." I instantly knew what he was drawing and what he was talking about. The stunned look on her face confirmed my suspicions.
She turned ever so slowly walked towards me, the color drained from her face and a very concerned expression overcame her.
She stood in front of me, and for a few seconds was speechless.
"Crypt keeper?" I asked.
she nodded.
"He say he's in Mexico?"
"yup." She was silent a few more seconds then relayed his message. "He said he's drawing the crypt keeper and that he lives in Mexico. He comes back here when someone isn't living anymore and needs to go to the ground." gulp. After he told her this tale, he nonchalantly went back to drawing.
I tried to assure her that he's a sweet boy, he's just been fascinated with Halloween, skeletons, zombies and the macabre since he was 2. He's never tortured anything, he's never picked a fight with anyone, in fact he's a kissable, lovable, sweet little boy despite his nutty obsession! (And prior to our trip to the Y, he very gently released the butterflies he had grown in his habitat.)
"Well maybe he'll be a director or do movies." She smiled. "He has quite the imagination."
That he does....
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Crickets and skeletons and butterflies, oh my!
I met up with a friend last week and we went to the bug museum in Bremerton. Pretty cool place, all kinds of dead and alive arachnids, various butterflies, ladybugs, and large-ass stick like creatures from the far reaches of the jungles of Earth, which no doubt, tickled Adam. After purchasing our obligatory trinketry at the gift shop, a frog house for outside and a butterfly kit for Adam, Adam spied something that he really, really just had to try. A freeze dried, crispy cricket inside a delicious candy lollipop. Mmm who does't want to eat a Gryllus Assimilus on a stick? (Yes, I had to look up the scientific definition of cricket!) How many licks did it take for Adam to get to the cricket? One bite was all it took:
He channeled his inner Ozzy Osbourne and went right for that little freeze dried head. Bit it clean off. I would post a close up "after" picture of him devouring that deliciousness, but for the faint of heart and stomach, I shall refrain! He was especially proud as he drew "ewwwws and icks!" from all his friends there with him. I don't know if I have a cool little rock star in the making, or the kid whom everyone at the playground will run from!
In other news, Adam finally came to the realization the other morning that Carlos the zombie in his room, did indeed appear to creepy and lifelike - so....he was replaced with Rockerfeller, the grim reaper decor we had greeting the kiddo's at Halloween:
Because, of course, the grim reaper isn't creepy at all!
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
In other news, Adam finally came to the realization the other morning that Carlos the zombie in his room, did indeed appear to creepy and lifelike - so....he was replaced with Rockerfeller, the grim reaper decor we had greeting the kiddo's at Halloween:
Because, of course, the grim reaper isn't creepy at all!
No children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
Saturday, December 17, 2011
"You're my chick"
So at lunch today, the three of us were having a discussion about a friend. Said friend, (who will remain anonymous) doesn't have a girlfriend at the moment. Michael nonchalantly wondered out loud, "who can we set him up with."
Adam, munching on his fries looks at me across the table and exclaims, "Mommy can be (( ))'s chick!"
Michael looks over at Adam and says, "No, mommy is my chick!"
Adam very firmly let it be known that, no, "Mommy is MY chick! You're my chick mommy!"
Yes I am...lol.
Adam, munching on his fries looks at me across the table and exclaims, "Mommy can be (( ))'s chick!"
Michael looks over at Adam and says, "No, mommy is my chick!"
Adam very firmly let it be known that, no, "Mommy is MY chick! You're my chick mommy!"
Yes I am...lol.
Monday, December 12, 2011
"Polar Punch"
The annual New Years Day Polar Plunge. An unusual (and very brisk) way to ring in the new year and a rite of passage for many a Seattle-ite. (And depending on your heart, probably a passage out of this life and into the next!)
Last year, a few of us brave (or um, not so smart?) souls planned on doing it, but alas, missed out because of well, it was New Years Eve, and we were breaking in our new "Bigfoot Lounge" in the basement. Priorities, you know?
But this coming New Years, my friend Stephanie and I along in our tutu's, wands, halo and horns will be making the plunge, or as Adam likes to call it, the "polar punch." He informed me that he wanted to jump the "punch" with us. This is a child who, if the shower turns mildly hot down from "holy hell it's scortching", will resonate a two alarm siren from his piehole. The same child who wails at the first breath of warm wind in his face. A child who, when visiting family and friends in California in one hundred degree weather, will not cool down in the pool, but cool down in a heated jacuzzi. And he wants to jump into ice cold water while no doubt the weather that day will probably be comparable to the Artic Tundra?
He's right about one thing though; the name probably should be changed to "polar punch", because I anticipate it's going to feel like a punch in the gut once my body is submerged! After the weather this morning and the frost on the cars, I thought to myself "what the bleep am I going to get myself into?" And it's going to get colder!
(Hey Stef, I've put it out there to the universe, there's no turning back now!!!)
no children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
Last year, a few of us brave (or um, not so smart?) souls planned on doing it, but alas, missed out because of well, it was New Years Eve, and we were breaking in our new "Bigfoot Lounge" in the basement. Priorities, you know?
But this coming New Years, my friend Stephanie and I along in our tutu's, wands, halo and horns will be making the plunge, or as Adam likes to call it, the "polar punch." He informed me that he wanted to jump the "punch" with us. This is a child who, if the shower turns mildly hot down from "holy hell it's scortching", will resonate a two alarm siren from his piehole. The same child who wails at the first breath of warm wind in his face. A child who, when visiting family and friends in California in one hundred degree weather, will not cool down in the pool, but cool down in a heated jacuzzi. And he wants to jump into ice cold water while no doubt the weather that day will probably be comparable to the Artic Tundra?
He's right about one thing though; the name probably should be changed to "polar punch", because I anticipate it's going to feel like a punch in the gut once my body is submerged! After the weather this morning and the frost on the cars, I thought to myself "what the bleep am I going to get myself into?" And it's going to get colder!
(Hey Stef, I've put it out there to the universe, there's no turning back now!!!)
no children were harmed in the writing of this blog...
Monday, December 5, 2011
"Eenie Meenie" Adam version
Eenie meenie miney moe,
touch a tiger by the toe,
if something happens he pays a dollar
it's a cash money thing....
touch a tiger by the toe,
if something happens he pays a dollar
it's a cash money thing....
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