it's been awhile since i've posted some funnies. and maybe they aren't really funny, and i'm just a sleep deprived hag that would laugh if your 5 year old spilled a gallon of orange juice all over your just cleaned kitchen floor.
oh wait, that really happened.
most of what happens in our house these days, is not funny. the mornings are spent frantically rushing around to get us all out the door with all the right things. mom and dad need their coffee, kids need their lunches and camp gear, and sunscreen on their faces. dog needs food, water, and his bed drug into the laundry room where he resides when we are gone to prevent the chomping of alex's last remaining barbies that actually still have heads and arms.
then we go to work. and we do what we do there.
then i get home at 6, and start the drill sergeant routine of bossing the kids around to drag the dog's bed to where it belongs, feed him once again, put their shoes and backpacks away, and throw their lunches in the sink. dinner's made, baths are had, stories are read and we all dump ourselves into bed.
not a lot of time for funny. so maybe i hold on to the funny that happens at inopportune times when you aren't expecting the funny. maybe i make funny out of the not so funny.
luckily or unluckily, i have a nice long commute that a) gives me 45 minutes of 'me time' before i pick up the kids and then another 30 of 'quality time' jibber jabbing with them on the way home about their day and answering ian's 1 trillion questions that he's apparently been harboring all. day. long.
'mom, i'd like to talk about god. is she pretty as you? and was she the first human alive in the universe?'
before i have a chance to answer, he's moved on to the next...
'mom, if the sun fell down would it always be the night?'
'mom, do you think bee's are scary? do they know they sting you or is it an accident? what if we had a bee for a pet? can we get a turtle?'
and as we pass mcdonald's each day, and I come up with yet another excuse WHY WE CANNOT STOP (albeit the quick and easy option) conversations as follows occur:
Ian: 'Can we go to McDonalds?'
Ian: 'I want a new mom'
Me: 'we can go to Safeway and get you a new one'
Ian: 'I guess I'll just keep you'
Ian: 'Mom, is Sunriver in India and can I take my water gun on the airplane?'
(Sunriver is a three hour drive from our house)
and sometimes it's laughter as opposed to crying as the two fight over their respective art projects, ask for snacks i do not have, proclaiming out of fatigue and car boredom that they 'hate their lives' or 'are proud of nobody'. Or, when I almost get run off the road by an impaired driver, get sprayed by a sprinkler (while inside my car), and spill a large diet coke on my lap on a day i cave at the mcdonald's request.
ian, since he was 2, and we made that impeccably irresponsible decision to move him from his crib to a 'big boy bed', has been teetering on the edge of either cracking us up at bedtime, or driving us madly insane.
one night, rather than sleeping he came to the top of the stairs to tell us the following in an effort to stay up:
1. Dad, you smell like rotting tomatoes
2. Mom, my wall broke
3. It smells like dog food in my room
4. My blankets are too heavy on my bruise
other complaints arise regarding non-existent slivers, dying of thirst, and being concerned that he hasn't yet read all the books on his bookshelf. between these stairway visits, we hear sounds that have sean and i wondering if there are 12 construction men upstairs tearing down walls. he tears his room apart, has pillow fights with himself, and talks and sings until ultimately, he ends up falling asleep (rarely on his own bed) and can be found most often on his floor on a pile of blankets and toys, or in our bed.
recently, while on vacation he told his pop that he must be 'really really really really old' and asked his gramma if she really retired, or was she just fired? the brutally honest observations of a 5 year old....
in other news, his pathological lying has somewhat waned and we believe that all the google searches of 'everything my 5 year old says is a lie' were correct in that it is a normal stage of development and ensures our youngster has an incredible imagination and that we should feel confident he's maturing normally.
if nothing else he's extremely modest like his father, and would never go outside in his skivvies wearing nothing but a bike helmet and tennis shoes.