The daily routine of 6:30 a.m. wake-up followed by 15 hours of kid-speak that is like watching many really bad shows on Cartoon Network is taking its toll on my ability to think and, therefore, write.
I am reading Anna Karenina, which is slow-going but interesting, and I just began a book titled Monsters: Mary Shelley and the Curse of Frankenstein, that I cannot put down and am even reading at red lights. So, you see, I'm trying desperately to undue the damage of arguments over inane topics, like who gets the red lollipop since the bank teller gave two purples and a red, which create a mindworm worse than any earworm of songs by Neil Sedaka.
I have been thinking about why I have such an interest in and connection with black church worship and such weird feelings associated with worship in a contemporary Christian setting. I have also been mulling over the Hobby Lobby decision, but my ability to write about these topics is stifled by the long days, constant interruptions and drop in IQ associated with being around my children all.day.long These are things to consider more and write on when school resumes.
What I can write about are those weird and amusing things my children have been doing which, fortunately for them, keep me from killing them with my bare hands some days.
Worst Job Ever---
Near our home is an industrial business area. At the corner entrance to this area is usually a guy who holds a sign for one of the businesses. He looks to have something on the order of a mullet and wears a headset. He also has a habit of "playing" the sign like a large bass. Evidently, I had a habit of saying, "Worst job ever," whenever we would drive by this guy. I didn't realize I had this habit, of course, until G said one day, "Worst job ever." He says it now every time we pass, including yesterday on our way to Mamaw's house for dinner.
Lifeguard Job---
After supper, the kids were "swimming" in Mamaw's little pool. N had the idea for them to play lifeguard. She took her turn first, sitting in the chair beside the pool while G and M went under water with goggles on, pretending to need help. She jumped in, rescued them, and gently pushed on their chests.
Next it was G's turn to be lifeguard. N went underwater with her mask, waving her hand above the water in an attempt to gain the lifeguard's attention. G the lifeguard zoned out, completely ignoring his "drowning" sister. She came up and went under again, once more waving her arm to gain the lifeguard's attention. Finally, she raised her head above the water and said, "What the heck, G????"
G, stood up, said "I gotta poop," and headed for the house. What a shitty lifeguard he was.
Butt Kiss---
After swimming, the boys went into Mamaw's house to get changed into their dry clothes again, since we were going to hang out for a bit before lighting sparklers.
I picked up towels and swim masks, and upon walking into the house, the boys decided to "BUTT KISS!," which involves them bending over to touch their toes, stark naked and allow their butts to touch. No matter how many times we say, "NO BUTT KISS," they do it anyway. Of course, last night, in the midst of saying, "Don't do that!!!!" they proceeded to yell, "PENIS KISS!"
More Waste Management---
We got them dressed, watched a little tv and waited for the sun to set. Around 8:30, having both boys on my lap, twiddling my ears and being generally tired and whiney, I decided to move the sparklers up so we could get the kids home and into bed.
When we got outside, M decided he had to pee. Rather than going inside, he wanted to pee on a tree as G had done in our backyard the night before when we lit sparklers in our yard. G, in his 6-year-old maturity, had the sense to use his fly for discreet urination near the willow. Four-year-old M went to the tree in the center of Mamaw's yard and dropped trou, proceeded to scratch his butt while he peed on the ground.
One of the best things about summer and these little amusing snippets of life is when D and I are in bed, reviewing the kookiness of the day before I fall into a coma until 6:30 the following morning.
Last night we considered the usage of the boys' BUTT KISS as our code word for referring to adult tomfoolery (by inserting other body part language), but decided this would be beyond the pale.
Even for us.
I am reading Anna Karenina, which is slow-going but interesting, and I just began a book titled Monsters: Mary Shelley and the Curse of Frankenstein, that I cannot put down and am even reading at red lights. So, you see, I'm trying desperately to undue the damage of arguments over inane topics, like who gets the red lollipop since the bank teller gave two purples and a red, which create a mindworm worse than any earworm of songs by Neil Sedaka.
I have been thinking about why I have such an interest in and connection with black church worship and such weird feelings associated with worship in a contemporary Christian setting. I have also been mulling over the Hobby Lobby decision, but my ability to write about these topics is stifled by the long days, constant interruptions and drop in IQ associated with being around my children all.day.long These are things to consider more and write on when school resumes.
What I can write about are those weird and amusing things my children have been doing which, fortunately for them, keep me from killing them with my bare hands some days.
Worst Job Ever---
Near our home is an industrial business area. At the corner entrance to this area is usually a guy who holds a sign for one of the businesses. He looks to have something on the order of a mullet and wears a headset. He also has a habit of "playing" the sign like a large bass. Evidently, I had a habit of saying, "Worst job ever," whenever we would drive by this guy. I didn't realize I had this habit, of course, until G said one day, "Worst job ever." He says it now every time we pass, including yesterday on our way to Mamaw's house for dinner.
Lifeguard Job---
After supper, the kids were "swimming" in Mamaw's little pool. N had the idea for them to play lifeguard. She took her turn first, sitting in the chair beside the pool while G and M went under water with goggles on, pretending to need help. She jumped in, rescued them, and gently pushed on their chests.
Next it was G's turn to be lifeguard. N went underwater with her mask, waving her hand above the water in an attempt to gain the lifeguard's attention. G the lifeguard zoned out, completely ignoring his "drowning" sister. She came up and went under again, once more waving her arm to gain the lifeguard's attention. Finally, she raised her head above the water and said, "What the heck, G????"
G, stood up, said "I gotta poop," and headed for the house. What a shitty lifeguard he was.
Butt Kiss---
After swimming, the boys went into Mamaw's house to get changed into their dry clothes again, since we were going to hang out for a bit before lighting sparklers.
I picked up towels and swim masks, and upon walking into the house, the boys decided to "BUTT KISS!," which involves them bending over to touch their toes, stark naked and allow their butts to touch. No matter how many times we say, "NO BUTT KISS," they do it anyway. Of course, last night, in the midst of saying, "Don't do that!!!!" they proceeded to yell, "PENIS KISS!"
More Waste Management---
We got them dressed, watched a little tv and waited for the sun to set. Around 8:30, having both boys on my lap, twiddling my ears and being generally tired and whiney, I decided to move the sparklers up so we could get the kids home and into bed.
When we got outside, M decided he had to pee. Rather than going inside, he wanted to pee on a tree as G had done in our backyard the night before when we lit sparklers in our yard. G, in his 6-year-old maturity, had the sense to use his fly for discreet urination near the willow. Four-year-old M went to the tree in the center of Mamaw's yard and dropped trou, proceeded to scratch his butt while he peed on the ground.
One of the best things about summer and these little amusing snippets of life is when D and I are in bed, reviewing the kookiness of the day before I fall into a coma until 6:30 the following morning.
Last night we considered the usage of the boys' BUTT KISS as our code word for referring to adult tomfoolery (by inserting other body part language), but decided this would be beyond the pale.
Even for us.
1 comment:
I feel you on the IQ drop... I've only had one year of both my children in school all day but I keenly aware of my lack of alone time this summer.
Our biggest annoying argument is which side of the van they are getting out of. Ugh!
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