Kids will be Kids (And Drive Their Mother Crazy

It has not been for a lack of stories that has caused me to be so remiss in my blog posting duties; rather a lack of sleep. The kids and I have been in Minnesota visiting Aunt Trish, wreaking havoc there, although I would like to state, for the record, we were in Wisconsin when the bridge collapsed. Brandon was no where near it and in no way responsible. (I can tell you who I think was, but that involves politics and words not suited to this family-friendly blog. I can also tell that my heart and prayers go out to the people impacted by that horrific incident. )

Lauren is pretty much over her fear of animals. Trish and Uncle Mark have a cat named Fidget, nicknamed Fidgey-butt or Fidgey, with whom Lauren is absolutely enthralled. She pet Fidgey, followed her, talked to her, laid on her belly next to, and even went as far as to cover up Fidgey with her (Lauren's) favorite pink blanket. It was funny and adorable.

Trish needed to get somethings ready for shipping, so she brought a box upstairs. Well, it was hard to say who made it to the box first, the cat or Lauren, or who had a better time playing in it. At one point, the two of them were in the box together. At another, Fidgey was in the box, but Lauren had put her blanket over the top of the box and was playing "Peek-a-boo" with her. Lauren would say, "Where's Fidgey-butt?" then lift up the blanket and yell, "Peek-a-boo!" The cat didn't seem to mind, so all was well.

On the same trip my eight year old decided to see if knew how to use the "F" word in proper context. Let me assure you that he absolutely does. He will never, ever have a problem using that word if the need should arise. Thankfully, we were not in public, not that it makes it better, but I have about all I can take of kids pushing my buttons in public this week as latter parts of the blog will reveal, so I considered it a small mercy that I didn't have an audience for this particular scene.

So, we are at Trish's house, I am on way downstairs to get something, and Jonathon asks me, "Mom, where is the GameBoy?" just a calm, nothing out of the ordinary kind of question. I respond, in a normal, ordinary, kind of mom way, "The last place I remember seeing it is in the mini van, next to Noah's booster seat." Jonathon's replies with, "Oh, that's great. He probably left it on and sucked all the f***** juice out of it." My jaw hit the ground. His jaw hit the ground. AND he immediately responded with, "What, you and Dad say that word sometimes when you are driving!" To which I immediately responded with (inside my head) "And my husband wonders why I have migraines?" but what I said is, "Jonathon, Dad and I do not use that word all the time when we drive. We have talked about how nasty and inappropriate that word is. Blah....Blah....Blah....Blah...."

This kid made it sound like every time Rich and I get behind the wheel every other word is a swear word. I dealt with it accordingly, but what I really want to know is how long Jon has been dying to try that word out. I know that is what most of that little episode was about. Jonathon hears curse words on TV, and yes, from Rich and I occasionally, but never feels a need to use to them. Although, he was told opportunity would taste like soap and feel like grounded from video games for two weeks if ever used that word again.

Brandon didn't do anything really "cute" or funny this trip unless you consider that every time we tried to take him to a public place he threw some kind of a fit. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to do whatever we were doing first, first. He wanted me to buy him a $200.00 Lego kit that was designed for kids ages 10 and up and told me I was a mean mom when I said absolutely not. He told me it wasn't fair that he had to eat his hamburger before I let him get chocolate ice cream with Nerds candy at Culvers. He almost took out seven different people with a toy sword at the Mall of America, so I took the sword away and would not let him have it back. Brandon is such a bright child. He takes such pride in being able to help Lauren, count to 15 by himself (higher with help), and has an amazing imagination. I think when he says he doesn't like people, there really is some truth to that. I really believe that when Brandon said he does not like people, he meant it. He does not get that trait from his mother.

And the Award for best acting goes to....Mr. Noah Tolbert...for his portrayal of an Abused, Underfed Child at the St. Paul Children's Museum Gift Shop in front of other parents and grandparents. In a truly inspired moment, only an hour after eating a full lunch at Subway, complete with sandwich, apples, chips, and two sodas, Noah grabbed his mother around the neck in the middle of the gift shop with tears in his eyes, saying loudly, "PLEASE, PLEASE, Mommy, LET me get something to EAT. I am just SO HUNGRY. I just can't stand it. I can't even think. I am soooo HUNGRY. PLEASE Mommy. Please let me get these fruit snacks."

At first I was strong. I was NOT getting the fruit snacks. We were on our way home for one thing. For another, all the kids had just eaten a full lunch an hour ago or a little less. Even if Noah had metabolized his food at the speed of light, he was not in any danger of malnutrition or dehydration. But the looks. From the other adults in the shop. Trish offered to buy him Cheez Its and I refused because I was so mad. Not at Trish at Noah. I mean there was absolutely no reason that he could not have waited. But he standing there, tears in his eyes, and every grown up in the shop is looking at me in horror, frozen, some with their hands in their wallets, reaching for snacks, counting how many kids I have, probably getting ready to buy my poor children some fruit snacks, so I caved. I still get mad thinking about it.....Noah's drama and me caving.

Since I began with a Lauren story, I will end a Lauren story. On the way home we stopped at a gas station to stretch our legs and take a bathroom break. Now, Ken York, and some you other hard core travelers, take a deep breath a remember I am traveling with four children under the age of nine, one of which is a little girl who is still working on potty training. We have to be conditioned to travel like you seasoned veterans, so we still take bathroom breaks.

All the kids were allowed to pick out one treat (but not fruit snacks). Lauren choose bubble gum. After I paid for it, she proceeded to put it in the bottom of her dress and roll it up past her belly button, of course in the middle of the gas station, giving everyone there a nice view of her underwear. I said, as I am rolling down her dress, "Lauren, Honey, no, no, sweetie, we don't wrap our bubble gum up in our dresses. No one wants to see your underwear." Lauren put her hands on her hips, bubble gum secure in one hand. She raised her chin in the air. She looked me in the eyes. And in her loftiest voice told me: "But Mommy, they're my princess underwear."