Geronimo!

This may be old, but it made me laugh.

There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer’s research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.

sent from a dear friend, as a part of one of those things that circulate the internet…

I swear the writers of this strip live in my house. Click for a laugh.

Jingle Bells (sing along)

Loading up the van
with all the snacks and toys
The children just can’t wait
to do just what they want.

I’ll drive right through the rain
and sleet and hail, and snow
whatever I must do
to let them go, go goooo…

Oohhh, Thank you Mom,
Thank you Dad,
For keeping them this weeeek.

I can’t wait
to sleep real late
and not wipe Blue Boy’s bu-um…

So thank you both
for giving me
this chance to sleep all daaay,

If there is an emergency
I won’t have my phone.

Oh, Thank you Mom
Thank you Dad…
(repeat chorus)

“I know that must be an acceptable serving size, because I’m still hungry”.

Blake, after his calorie appropriate breakfast

The Booger Bandit has struck our household again, but his time with an arsenal of glue, which strangely enough, has very similar properties to the boogers we were previously hit with.

Upon accusation of the alleged crime (sister is now considering witness protection), a speedy gathering of the facts, and collection of evidence ensued. For the prosecution, there was:
Exhibit A - mostly used tube of glue
Exhibit B - very gooey sticky spot on sister’s wall
Exhibit C - very upset (at the coming forward of witness sister) Bandit Artist, formerly dealing in boogers.
And the aggrieved sister seeking damages, and swift retribution.

For the Defense, there was:
Booger Bandit crying hysterically, pleading not guilty with the “I didn’t mean to” line of defense.

Trial was indeed swift, and while the jury of one deliberated the evidence at hand, The Defendant wailed his defense at ever increasing decibles, and was remanded to his room for contempt of court. The prosecution’s star witness was remanded to her room for attempting to sway the jury repeatedly, judge/jury of one declaring that this too, was contempt of court, and would not be tolerated. Order in this courtroom would prevail.

With disturbances aside, a verdict was reached quickly. The jury forewoman announced that the Defendant was indeed guilty of one count of Glue Smearing Where Glue is Never Allowed. Jury forewoman/Judge called in the Defendant to receive sentencing. As this was a second count of Substance Smearing, Booger Bandit would have all gooey substances removed from his ability to reach them (save those that grow in his nose) for a minimum of 1 week, with no chance for setting this sentence aside. As the Defendant is deeply involved in his art this week, the sentence hit hard. And he was ordered to clean up the damage BY HIMSELF. Wailings of “I can’t” were ordered to cease. In addition, Booger Bandit would remain in his room for a minimum of 30 minutes, no chance for parole.

Booger Bandit was heard to yell, “But I just wanted to see what it looked like!”, as he was ushered out of the courtroom.

Don’t sleep in. Or this will happen…

and this…

and some more of this…
”

right down to the toes…

OR, if you must spleep in, as I did this morning, hide the markers. Do you think I could get in trouble for posting Bob the Builder underwear pics of our 5 year old (no pervs, thank you)?

P.S. What a good, skin safe marker removal product?

Children are watching old PopEye cartoons, the one where PopEye and Olive Oil marry. As the vows are repeated, Kat says, Lawfully Wedded Wife? I always thought they said Awful Headed Wife!

This was probably only my second post…

My father and I email each other quite a bit, and the other day he sent this. It has probably circulated forever, but after the day I’d had with my three, it was fresh relief, and a decent laugh…

On Aug 21, 2005, at 1:29 PM, Kim Welch wrote:

I showed you this years ago. Thought you might appreciate it more these days.

Dad

THINGS I’VE LEARNED FROM CHILDREN:

1. If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound boy wea

ring pound puppy underwear and a superman cape.

2. It is strong enough, however, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20 by 20 foot room.

3. When you hear the toilet flush and the words, “Uh-oh,” it’s already too late.

4. Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke, and lots of it.

5. A six year old can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36 year old man says they can only do it in the movies.

6. If you use a waterbed as home plate while wearing baseball shoes it does not leak - it explodes.

7. A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000 sq foot house 4 inches deep.

8. LEGOS will pass through the digestive tract of a four year old….

9. Super glue is forever.

10. McGyver can teach us many things we don’t want to know.

11. No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can’t walk on water.

12. Pool filters do not like Jell-O.

13. VCR’s do not eject PB&J sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.

14. Always look in the oven before you turn it on.{that durn hamster…}

15. The fire department in Roseville has at least a 5 minute response time.

16. The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earth worms dizzy..

17. It will however make cats dizzy.

18. Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.

I particularly like the bit about the cats, although we don’t have any. There are those days when these sorts of emails help you get through to bedtime, and maybe get up the next morning, too. My own day had been hairy, although I’m sure, pretty typical for those staying home most of the time with children. I think the guys who write the Baby Blues comic strip LIVE in my house…many must agree. Monday is our heaviest chore day, and that Monday, I was focused on getting these things done after finishing a book I couldn’t get my nose out of til I finished. Even though I engage the children, and they help a lot, I am constantly amazed at what they think is “OK” play whilst I urgently try to clean and pick up. While I was upstairs without them, they got busy in the Big Room (our “formal” living room in a house built in the 50s that we have no idea what to do with), and pulled every chair, every pillow and 3 quilts into an amazing maze of tunnels, rode the arms of the sofas as “speeders” and filmed their drama…only to have Jake accidentally trip on his way down a ladder (that was included in the structure), and drop the camcorder. Within an hour of telling my folks how blessed we feel to have the film we do (we’d been watching and labeling old film), and that camera to capture more, and our “lessons” with Jake in how to film without requiring us all to take Dramamine to watch it, the camera is now apparently in some techno-heaven somewhere. Can’t get it to work at all. *sigh* Boys. *sigh* Jake is quite contrite, and I really can’t blame him for an accident, but entering the room I had just picked up and vacuumed and finding it unrecognizable and the camera busted was a bit of a strain on my patience, to say the least. So then I sent them upstairs to pick up their rooms and feed the gerbils, while I swapped laundry, only to hear blood curdling screams from Blue and Kat…turns out they were taking turns leaping over each other, one laying in the floor and the other leaping, and the biggest kid missed and landed his foot right in the littlest’s head…Kat was just screaming because Blue was so upset, and possibly quite injured. Helpful. And of course in the middle of the melee, Jake is negotiating his position of innocence, buzzing in my ear with his defense while Blue practically passes out in my arms (a thing he’s prone to do when very hurt and surprised at the same time), Kat is covering her ears in the corner, whimpering, and Max (the dog) is jumping and barking at all the noise, thinking its some sort of game of which he’s the center. This is soooooo not what I pictured when I was that girl in those old videos (we have some from college)…no wonder the children didn’t recognize me…she doesn’t even exist anymore! And I’m thinking about that silly email, and it occurs to me…is it antics by children in general, or is it BOYS?!? Completely testosterone driven craziness? Blue (our nearly 5 year old) flushed a Hot Wheels down the powder room toilet when we lived in Tennessee (he wasn’t even 2), and it was so stuck, a plumber had to come, take it OUT of the house, and turn it upside down in our front yard to retrieve the lost car?! That was surely endearing to the neighbors…but left to herself, Kat (our nearly 8 yr. old daughter) would draw, play with horses, dolls, and make things. And help me with any number of things just to be near me. With the boys, though, she’s constantly being drawn into some adventure, battle, or race, or Star Wars re-enactment that ALWAYS involves running, shouting, defending, sound effects, leaping, jumping, rescuing, spying, lots and lots of yelling to warn “the others” or signal attack, or retreat. My childhood was NO prep for this, nor was Blake’s for that matter! One of the films we reviewed yesterday included Kat catching Jake’s bum while he changed his shorts to his swim suit. Blue thought it was so funny that Jake got his bum filmed that he immediately dropped his own drawers, ran up to Kat, grabbed his penis, and squeezed it into the lens of the camera. I’ve NEVER seen male genitalia in quite such a manner, and most assuredly would not prefer to again. Blue howled beyond reason when he saw him”self” on film. Blake and I were actually speechless for once. I guess now we’ll have to figure a calm way to handle what can and cannot be filmed, to avoid some sort of child/film/porn laws violation, and try to get Blue to keep his pants on…once we replace the camera, that is! All we could say yesterday after the initial shock was that Blue should keep his stuff in his pants, and if he insists on taking it out, the camera should probably go off. I never!

Written in September, when we were planning the boys’ rooms…

Funny side note: as previously mentioned, the boys are splitting up, and will now each have their own room. First time ever. Today, as Blue told his grandmother all about his “imaginary freind”, William Pretend Buddy Tannery, called Pretend Buddy, of course, for short, she asked him a question. “Will Pretend Buddy get to share your new room with you, Blue?”, to which he sighed exasperatedly, and moaned, “awww, maan, I still don’t get my own room!”.

In September, when we were preparing the boys new rooms…

OK. I’ve seen a lot in my short decade as a mom. Especially since our third was born. This was new to me.

DH and I (and the 3 children when the whim hits) are painting Blue’s room. A really cool shade of green, sort of army, but not so dark. When one paints a room, you are, of course, forced to really examine the walls, and even the ceiling. There is that up close, personal view of every square inch of space, making even a small room feel interminably large when faced with trim out work. And so we saw it. It was right there, above the spot where the top bunk used to be. Near the bladeless ceiling fan, sans blades for the real potential danger that Blue would swing from them. It was a sort of smear, kind of chunky, varying in color and texture and covering about 7 square inches of supposed to be clean white ceiling. Blake and I looked at eachother and knew, nearly instantly. I went to find Blue.

(me, with face of near nausea) “Blue, hon, come here and let me ask you about something.”

(Blue, all innocence and curiosity, running in from the den) “Sure Momma, what is it?”

(me, again, starting with deductive reasoning) “Um, Blue. Tell Momma who used to sleep in the top bunk in your room?”

(Blue, stating the obvious) “Me.”

(me, hating where this is going) “Uh huh, and tell Momma who likes to occasionally pick his nose around here?”

(Blue, with absolutely zero compunction) “Me, Momma, that’d be me!”

(volley back to me) “OK, then, if you used to sleep on the top bunk, and you sometimes like picking your nose, would you please tell Momma what that might be on the ceiling in your room, right where your old bunk used to be?”

(the booger picker, with pride) “Oh, that?! I had boogers in my nose, I took them out, and I put them on the ceiling!”

And off he went to view his art work again, before we get out the bleach and the putty knife, quite tickled with himself. All this time, a little mucous mural has been slowly, yet surely building, right under our noses, and quite literally, in his. I don’t remember signing up for this. Yet, here I am. Boogers on the ceiling. The story of my life.