Cabbage and Yogurt - What a Wonderful Combination!

When it comes to my Godchild, only God knows what she is going to say next. In a food obsessed society, it is no wonder that a girl can't even get through a story without mentioning food mistakenly. My godchild does just that and does it with sass: My sister: Kyla, why weren't you dancing? (dance practice in front of parents) Kyla: Because everyone was looking at my butt and underarms. My sister: What? Kyla: Next time I'm gonna put some yogurt under my arms. My sister: Do you mean deordorant? Kyla: Yeah, that stuff! My sister: Stop it, Kyla - you have a bad habit of that and your sister will only follow in your footsteps. Kyla: (later)Mom says I've got a bad cabbage of that!

I am from ...

I have finally taken a challenge, Owlhaven So here it goes: I am from pencils with worn tips, from ice-cold Coca-Cola and freshly brewed Community Coffee. I am from the house with the jungle of a yard with a reflection of this on the inside as well. I am from the loving, very full, home that smells of pumpkin spice candles and whatever meal I can whip up in an hour. I am from magnolias so divine and tough and wisteria mysteriously intertwining. I am from baking with children every holiday to never leaving without saying I love you. From the forgiving Legendre’s and assertive Plaisance’s and determined Gautier‘s and witful Cheramie‘s. I am from the most forgiving hearts and giving hands. From old spirits in young bodies and open minds. I am from Christians, who believe God will get you through it. I'm from Cajuns in Louisiana, from France, Spain, and Italy, from Mom‘s white beans cooked in Granny‘s pot to sloppy wipe your mouth fifty times roast beef po-boys. From the early Sunday morning raves from Granny and Papa on dancing the night away the night before and willing to relive it out once more to the mounds of Mawmaw’s books surrounding every wall. I am from old tattered albums, self-written poetry books, grandma’s tea set, and hand-made blankets that tell of a journey worth taking again, and again, and again.

The Machine Sleeps

If you've been keeping up, Hunter Bunter, aka The Machine, hardly sleeps. We have finally found the secret to our problem. The Wedding Planner. Oddly enough, he asked to watch the movie tonight, so I let him in pure desperation to get him off my back. He casually slipped the DVD in and was asleep in a matter of minutes. Remind me to thank J-Lo.

"Massive"

I'm sure we all agree what fun things come out of our children's mouths. But not of all of it is funny when you are on the receiving end. My sister-in-law over spring break let me in on a statement her son made to her that I just had to share. Mother (rubbing her eyes and head) Son: What's wrong mommy? Mother: I have a massive headache. Son: Well, it'll go great with your massive butt. "Kids say the darnest things" SMACK!!!

Wild Weekend W(r)evelations

In sharing with other moms their stories of raising children, I thought it might be interesting to share with other moms creative ways to discipline your children. So, every weekend I will share with you my "Wild Weekend W(r)evelations". W(r)evelation #1: Children do not like to shop with their moms, especially if they are boys and especially if she's shopping for a bathing suit. Solution: Play a game. Have your children hold one hand on the shopping cart. Whoever holds on to the shopping cart the longest scores a point. Whoever has the most points at the end of the trip gets candy and a drink in check out line, the other only gets to pick one. The Result: I actually managed to find one without three kids screaming once, "Get over here, before I hang you from the racks!" W(r)evelation #2: Children will say the meanest things. Solution: For every mean thing they said to each other, I have required them to sit and face each other, say something nice about the other and then give a kiss on the cheek to each other. The Result: This was torture for my boys, needless to say I haven't heard anything mean --- Yet!

Freaky Friday Everyday

Seth(ocrates), my eldest son, seems to think he is a thirty year old parent of three. He is forever bossing around his younger brother and thinks he can hold down the fort when I'm busy in mother duties. He actually has said, "Hunter what have I told you, time and time again, don't play with the bubbles without me around." Wherever does he get it?!!! I've also had him say, "What did you not understand about the word No!" I've created a "monster", funny though my husband who you would think be quoting these statements more often is busy playing the whining husband. "I want to fish, I want to hunt, I want to sing, I want more "time" with you." WaaWaaWaa!!! It just seems at moments there is some Freaky Friday thing happening in my household, minus the laugh factor (because I don't find it funny).

Dark Forces Beware

Okay, I admit it - I AM A CHARMED FREAK! So, I Netflixed Seasons 1-4 to catch up, since my children and husband just so happen to get a few wild hairs up their butts and start wrestling just when any decent show comes on TV. I was able to watch all of the seasons, but not without once in awhile Hunter Bunter observing also. At first, all he did was ask, "Mommy, I want to watch the witches." I didn't see any harm, yet I do realize this is probably not the healthiest show for my child to be witnessing. So, my son and I continue on a mission to see all the seasons and he begins to express that he has "powers". He even makes the motions of Piper (the one who can freeze time and blow things up with her hands). He says to me one day in the grocery store, "Watch Mom, I'm going to blow him up." He flicks out his hands in true Piper form and says, "Don't worry Mom I vanquished the demon." I hope this phase ends before preschool, I'd hate to have to come to school because they think my child is a bomb threat.

I Want it Baaack!

Hunter Bunter is obsessed with wanting his things back. Now, I'm not talking about the usual, "Give me my toy back" or "I want my drink back." Nooooo! He wants his hair back after I've cut it or his nails back after I've clipped them. Can he just beg like a normal child and stomp his feet. Noooooo! He has to literally grab the hair off the floor or the clippings from the trash and try to assemble them back. Begging me, "Please, mommy put it back." What does he think I can do? Glue them or magically pull off a trick greater than Houdini? Oh, the tragic life of a 3 year old.

The Nerve ...

I believe I'm in desperate need of medication. In pursuit of trying to make cash, I began the day cleaning my cousin's home. It took me 6 hours. This was not due to the fact that her home was messy, but due to my obsession with cleaning when I do clean. Yes, you should clean things right and try to achieve the white glove effect - but please somebody help me. I can't stop when I get started. I'm cleaning the doors, next thing you know I'm cleaning the frames, and the molding and then I notice the corner and then the spot on the wall. I've walked into her house a thousand times and have always said how clean it was, yet here I am striving for perfection. My goal was to do a spring cleaning so cleaning it in the next few weeks would be a little bit easier, but I may have gone a bit overboard. To top off my back aching, knee wrenching, ears ringing day, my husband comes home to ask when will I clean our house. My response, "When you pay me!" The nerve!