He says v1

I wish my husband had a twitter account, or updated his Facebook - because he says funny sht. This has been in my drafts for close to year - so I need to (clearly) get better at posting his random thoughts- cause lord knows he won't.

I'm sure he's thrilled {sarcastic font}.

We were discusses how EVERYTHING is in 3D know.

"Why 3D, why now? I live my whole life with 2D. Keep the other D."

I thought parrots were smaller?

Lately L's been a bit more dangerous to be around, in terms of what she repeats. Some things, you wish she wouldn't pick up, she does and others she can't grasp - you wish she would. Pretty much a typical parenting conundrum. 

In my last post, I mentioned that my kid may or may not be working on a British accent. Maybe this is a Midwestern accent?  This happens lately. She sees something or hears something and tries to replicate it.

The day of the video she was bombarded with accents. In a commercial she watched on a loop for 10 minutes, watching Nanny McFee, and then later on Brave.

Side story: a week or so ago, L became obsessed with a commercial. I don't know when she saw it or how (see: terrible parenting trend), but I needed to find it. She kept talking about it. I HAD to find it on YouTube to make it stop. Here's how she explained it: "He throws the mail at the door. Well he opens the door. And then the man says 'Oye!" I took it to Facebook and got my answer. Here's her reaction to the commercial.

Here's the thing, beyond the accent. She repeats things too, sometimes with the accent sometimes, without. Sometimes she repeats things wrong.  All times, it's hilarious. 

Examples include but not limited to:

• Her new go to word is, "Oye." Thank you {sarcastic font}, Richard Branson and your Virgin Mobile commercial. I thought it was annoying when she just kept repeating over and over again the barely descriptive description. "You know what I'm talking 'bout, Mama? He throws the mail at the door. Well he opens the door. And then the man says 'Oye! You know???" NO, I DO NOT KID!!!!! Now? Everything. Is. OYE. She drops something, "oye." She wants something, "oye." She uses it as a replacement to words like: so, but, the, huh, what - really the list goes on.
  
  Oye.Vey.
  
• I was watching Bunheads. It's The Gilmore Girls, with ballet instead of post-teenage pregnancy. It's about teenagers in ballet (and other stuff) and it's on ABC Family. So of course they talk about sex {sarcastic font}.  Awesome.  L was in the other part of the living room, I thought she wasn't paying attention.
  
  10 minutes later, she's playing pretend - I hear her conversation.
  
  "You have sex. Don't have sex. They had sex. Sex. Sex. Sex."
  Fine that last part didn't happen, but she was talking about sex, a lot. I asked where did she hear that (full well knowing where she got it).  Of course, she said the television, to which I could do the only thing I could.
  
  "NO! They didn't say that. They said SIT. Don't sit! They are sitting. Because they are dancing, and they don't want anyone to sit."
  
  "OHHHH, that makes sense, Mama."
  
  
• We saw Brave the other day. It is a lovely movie, a bit scary at parts, but great. It takes place in Scotland, the visuals are amazing - but the accents were hard for her to follow sometimes. It's all about a princess who wants to change her fate. She seeks out the help of a witch to help with a spell. A spell is cast on her mother - to change her fate. On our way home from the movie, this happens:
  
  "Mama. I'm curious. Why did she ask the witch for help? Why did she want to change her mom's feet?"
   
  The whole time, home girl thought it was about the Queen's feet.  To be fair, if you look at it literally, the spell did change the Queen's fate & feet.
  
  
• We drove to a pizza place the other day. And despite being there a 100 times, I still have to use my GPS. As I opened the door for her to go in and grab dinner, she waltzes into the restaurant and screams. "We have REACHED our destiny!" in the perfect GPS voice.

All of this is to say, watch yourself around my kid. She has a memory that is long and she is not afraid to use it (against you). I shudder to think that she's running around camp telling people to not have sex. I mean, good message, kid but perhaps not the best one for you to be delivering.

I learned it by watching you!

Me: "L, can you please help and pick up JJ's toys?"
L: "Damn it!"
Me: "What'd you say?"
L: {slowly} "Damn.It."
Me: "Where did you hear that?"
L: {confused look, perhaps} "I don't know."

I let it go for a few minutes. I didn't want to yell right away. I wanted to check in, figure out where she is learning this. It isn't us. I mean, an occasional shitake - I would believe. We usually scream some random word (like SPAGHETTI! or MATZO BALL) directly after to take attention away from the under the breath "shhhhiiittt" that sometimes escapes our lips. Nana Lu heard that on Oprah or Dr. Phil or maybe it was the Wendy Williams show. So you know, that's what we do now.  Sometimes we'll put in a totally innocent word in the right place with the right emphasis - missing the ability to freely curse. Some of my favorites:

• "That's some spaghetti!"
• "Mother FATHER." 
• "Oh my goose eggs."
• "Freakity Frack."

It does the trick in a pinch, but it's nothing like having the freedom to drop an F bomb with passion as it is intended. I imagine this is what it must be like for people who use those electric cigarettes. You probably feel foolish, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

But damn it? I checked in with her a few minutes later.

Me: "No, seriously, L. Who says 'damn it?'"
L: "Um. You, mama. I didn't know it was a bad word. I didn't know. You say it, mama. I didn't know. I won't say it again."

I mean, she might as well have screamed, "You, alright? I learned it from watching YOU!"



Spaghetti, this is some Mother FATHER matzo ballz.

Coughing Up Flame

L is getting her first ear infection. I should consider us lucky. It's her first one in all four years of her little life. I have a hard time seeing that silver lining when she's hogging the blankets in bed and spending the wee hours of the morning coughing on me or (bad breath) breathing on me until I finally give up and get out of bed at 5:30 am. That said, even tired and fearing what germs are making a home in me - she is hilarious.

In preparation for our doctor's office I started asking questions. What hurts? ETC.

Me: "When you cough does anything come up?" 

L: "Yup. The flame. I have it." 

Me: {thinking} "OH you mean phlegm."
L: "Yup. Flame. In my thought mouth."

Just when I thought it couldn't get weirder up in here, I have a fire eater. P.s. she meant phlegm. Naturally. And no, she isn't feeling a burning sensation, she just thinks phlegm is flame.

Alessandro's Treasure

Our elf has arrived and while I planned to take one picture a day - I have failed horribly. I'll try to do catch up but since you aren't allowed to touch the damn elf otherwise his magic gets taken (it's in the book people, catch up) it's difficult. I will tell you this: you should really play out the story or situation you put your elf in, before presenting.

Recently the husband was in charge of our elf's landing.  He chose to place him above a shelf in the kitchen.

Side note: when you adopt an elf you name him or her. Last year, when we adopted our elf, L named him... Alessandro. One of her buddies from school was Alessandro and he will live in Guarro family history as our elf. It's a lovely name (for the little boy)... but is it elf-y? Absolutely not. I should have steered the naming session toward a more elf-friendly name like Scooter, Snowflake, Jack (Frost) or Buddy. You know all the other Shelf Elfs used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Alessandro join in any elf-like games.

Back to the story, Alessandro was up on his shelf, just sitting there. BORING. Listen, I appreciate my husband. He got up after I realized we forgot. At that point we were seconds from slumber town. I appreciate it.  The thing is, when I saw Alessandro the next morning, he was just sitting there. No story. Nothing. I felt like I had to do something.

So far, Alessandro has been swinging from the chandelier (as you do),  sliding down the stair railing, sitting in a pumpkin patch, in L's room getting into her jewelry box and "make up," working for the weekend, and hanging out with the King of Kings.

elf montage

Alessandro & King of Kings.
Obviously.

Point is? Things were happening.  Alessandro was busy. Sitting there on a random shelf? Alone? BOOORRRING.

When the kid wasn't looking I threw some gems we had left over from our Halloween extravaganza on his lap thinking we could spin a "Look! He has treasures!!!"
To be fair - I should have thrown MORE gems. Treasures. Jewels. The TWO I threw up there? Doesn't help my story. I did not think this through.

Me: "Look, L! Alessandro has some treasure!!!"

L: "Lemme see (I lift her up - because the shelf is high - another problem with this spot) - OH he has jewels!"

Ball & chain: "Yup, it's just Alessandro & his family jewels."

Alessandro & his (family) jewels

Later on that day?
L: "Is Alessandro still playing with his family jewels?"

Days later?
L: "Remember when Alessandro had his jewels? His family jewels?"
She also asks if we remember when Alessandro was hanging from the chandler or the stairs - but I'm sure you understand... these memories aren't quite as funny.

I wish I could respond with, "Yup L, we remember. We'll always remember. On a side note, you should know: your father is 12." If I did that I just KNOW she'd just correct me, trying to convince me he is in his 30s.

Smart (ass) kids (and husbands).

Elf on the (what now?)

Last year we got Elf on the Shelf.  It took forever to find one, truth be told - as I may or may not have waited until the last minute. That's how I roll. It was exciting, however late it was.

What is Elf on the Shelf?  The elf is adopted by a family (us) and he (or she) look in on the kids of the family and report back to Santa how things are going. Yes, Santa watches if you're naughty or nice - but who helps him? The elves. Directly from Elf on the Shelf:

Excellent listeners and even better observers, these scout elves are the eyes and ears of Santa Claus. Although they cannot be touched, or else they may lose their magic, the elf will always listen and relay messages back to Santa. Taking in all the day-to-day activities around the house, no good deed goes unnoticed; these scout elves take their job seriously.

Each night, after the family goes to bed, the scout elf uses his magical Christmas powers to fly back to the North Pole. Once there, the elf will make his or her daily report to Santa and visit with elf friends where they will tell stories about their beloved families, play with the reindeer, and of course, sneak some of Mrs. Claus’ cookies!

Before the family awakes each morning, their special scout elf will fly back to their home from the North Pole. However, since these elves like to play games, don’t expect to find them in the same spot!  While some like to hide in the freezer (probably because it reminds them of the North Pole) and others prefer to sit on the fireplace mantle or hang from the chandelier, these elves love to play hide-and-seek with their families.

This year, homeboy is going to rock the house.  Why? You'll never guess. Pinterest.

I KNOW? Are they paying me to talk about them, or what? Your answer will be "what" after I finish this story.

ANY WHO there are all these fantastic ideas on what to do with the Elf on the pinterest. I told the ball & chain about some of my favorites - the Elf turns up doing snow angels in flour, hanging from a chandelier, or playing games with other toys. You'd THINK he'd be down with this.  This (seems to be) is right up his alley.  As I explained this to him, and reminded him of antics very recently with the trolls... this happened. Verbatim.

"That is so creepy. I mean what's next? A 3 way with Belle & Barbie."

My guy is so dreamy. 

Like I said, pretty sure Pinterest is not (pin)terested in MY endorsement. More on our elf's story and the trouble he gets into this year... G rated people. Keep it clean.

What's worse? You be the judge.

Saturday my dreamy husband gave me the day off. While normally mothers do not get the day off - I got a vacation day.  The ball & chain took the girls for the day while I went off to get my Breaking Dawn on.

Maybe you didn't know, but I am a MAJOR fan. Twi-hard. Major, people. And I know how ridiculous it is. I love their love, however ridiculous you find it.  I don't care.  I have read the books more times than I can count (yes I realize it isn't the best quality of writing, but you are reading this, aren't you?). It is one of hand full of movies (The Goonies, anything John Hughes, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Dirty Dancing, do not count) that I will see more than once. I will buy the DVD with digital download. I will see in the theaters at least three times. It's a sickness. I embrace it.

You think that's a problem? Get a load of the new problem I have on deck. 

Saturday morning, as I was getting ready to leave - I told the kid I was "running errands." This, is the truth. 

Courtesy of Merriam Webster:

errandsplural of er·rand (Noun)

Noun:

A short journey undertaken in order to deliver or collect something, often on someone else's behalf. The purpose or object of such a journey.

I was on a journey to tween oblivion. I was going to get my geek on. I was going to swoon. I was likely going to cry. Smile. I was going to collect some good warm & fuzzies and stare off to a dreamy state of mind. 

My swooning was interrupted by a little voice....

L: "Mama, where are you going? Errands? Where? Shopping?"

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband: "First she's going to the movies, then shopping."
Me: {Totally silent.}

L: "The mooooovvviiees??!!?!? I WANNA GO!"

Movies to my kid is like a beach vacation. It's Christmas. It's fireworks. A movie AND popcorn? It's EVERYTHING to her. She would do just about anything to go to the movies.

Me: "Well, yes - we'll go to the movies soon, I promise. (We're planning on the Muppets at some point -so this isn't quite a lie.)

She seems to take that. 

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband:"It's a movies for adults only.  An adult movie."

Great, so the chances of my kid going into school on Monday talking about how her Mama saw an adult movie this weekend. 90-10.  

And just when you thought it couldn't get worse?

Hours later - when I get home from bliss (the movie) & food shopping (sure it wasn't the pairing I would have hoped for - but it was HOURS alone and that was lovely):

L: "Mama. How were the vampires? Did they eat blood?"
Me: {blink. blink.}

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband:"What? She had questions. I wasn't going to lie to her."
Me: {blink. blink.}

Just when I thought "My mama went to an adult movie" was the weirdest thing my kid was going to regurgitate at school?

Monday morning:

Me: "L, what do you want for breakfast?"

L: "Blood."Me: {blink. blink.}

We couldn't just stick with running an errand, could we?

Be Careful What You Nag For

Tuesday
L, "Mama, how about we walk to school tomorrow?"
Me, "Sure thing! That'll be fun!"

Wednesday
L, "Mama, you forgot. We didn't walk to school!"
Me, "Oh I forgot! Tomorrow."
L, "Why'd you forget?"
Me, "That's how forgetting works - you just forget."
L, "Why?"
Me, "I don't know why I forgot - but that is what forget means - you accidentally don't do something or get something - because you forget."
L, "Why'd you forget though, Mama?"
Me, "I don't know. Tomorrow."
L, "Will you forget?"
Me, "I won't know until I do or if I do. Tomorrow, okay - it'll be fun."

Thursday
Me, "We don't have time to walk to school today, but I'll pick you up and we'll walk if I can leave early enough!"
L, "Will you forget?"
Me, "I don't think so - but you never know!"

Fast forward, 4 hours... I do not forget and pick her up - on time - at school.

L, "Did you walk here?"
Me, "I did!"
L, "Will I walk home?"
Me, "Yup - with me - that's how this works."

Fast forward, 2 hours and we finally see the door to our house.

L, "Maybe next time we take the car, Mama. Don't forget."
 

Mommy's Little Girl

Scene: Driving down the street L points out a restaurant we have been to, Blueberry Hill.

C, "What's that? Raspberry Bump?"
Her, "No, Blueberry Hill."
C, "Orange Hill?"
Her, "NO! Blueberry Hill!"
C, "Pumpkin Mountain?"
Her, "BLUEBERRY HILL! Be serious, C!"

Not Dad. Straight up scolding in nature. Calling him by his first name, because she means business. Don't mess with this kid. Also, I don't know where she gets it from {looks around, innocently}.

Religious Education

At the hospital, there were religious statues all over.  When we were still waiting to be discharged so L took a walk with Grammy. Sometimes she loves to give you a play by play on all the things she saw or learned. Luckily, today was one of those days.

Her, "Mama. We took a walk and guess who we saw?"
Me, "Who?"
Her, "The blasted mother."
{pause}

Give it a minute.
Who might she be talking about?


The BLESSED Mother of course. Who from here on out, we'll be referring to the BLASTED mother.

Screw That

While drilling into the wall the screw slipped and I screamed...

L, "Mama. What happened? Did you screw yourself? You get screwed?"

Girl... you don't even KNOW.

Scrapes & (Ego) Cuts

Me: "OUCH!" (mumbles.. probably some kind of mixture of curse and nonsensical words)
L: "What's wrong, Mama?"
Me: "Nothing much, just the baby."
L: "The baby's kicking you?"
Me: "Yup. Everyday. All day." (trying to NOT seem as angry as I might be)
L: "Can I see?"
Me: "Sure, but you really can't see the baby kick, just my belly move a little." (I lift my shirt)
L: "Yeah. The baby's scratching you - I can SEE!"
Me: "You can't see the baby!"
L: "I can see the scratching!" (she points)
Me: "Awesome. No. Those are stretch marks - not a scratch...."
L: "It's a scrape it's a scrape! The baby is scraping you!" (Note: this may sound like she is saying in a horriying way - not the case, almost excited & facinated combined.)
Me: "Ok."
L: "Okay, let's cover that belly now."

 

Shiny Breath

The ball & chain: "L, your morning breath is like kitty litter. Meow!"
L: "Kitty GLITTER?!"

photo credit: Tumblr, kitty glitter search - obviously

And we wonder why she is confused with things and call some things by random names... how are you going to correct a glittering kitty?

Overshare

L, "Mama... can you believe it? I fell in the toilet."
Me, "You did?!"
L, "Yeah, can you believe it - my feet fell in too!"
Me, "Wait. What were your feet doing in the toilet?"
L, "Yeah. It was bananas.  I was standing on the toilet.." (starts to realize she is divulging too much information...) 
{PAUSE}
Me, "Wait. Why were you STANDING on the toilet?"
L, "I dunno. I dunno why I do."

Elmo's World of Fashion

Me: "Are you excited about the Oscars tonight?"
The kid:  "Yes, and Elmo's World too, right?"

photo credit http://www.exposay.com/
and a google images search

She will be sorely surprised that there will likely be no furry red monster and no Gaga in an egg.  I think she's going to dig the fashion which will continue to confuse me and how we are related.

The Other White Meat

The ball & chain is the chef of the house. Can I cook? Sure, I think it's possible. The thing is, the man loves it - my feeling? Why take something away from him that he loves? What kind of person would that make me? Also, he's way better at it than I am.  Why mess with perfection? Homeboy can COOK.  He can also bake... that I won't even try to attack. It isn't worth the pain.  There are somethings that I can cook better or he hates cooking - for those things I rock the kitchen.  By in large, though, he's the head chef of the house.

The kid loves to help, which may sound crazy since she's 3 years old - but she loves it. She has (almost) mastered breaking eggs, whisking eggs, stirring anything, putting things in the toaster, putting things in bowls - no cutting and the stove is off limits - but other than that she is in. She loves it and I love that she loves spending time with us (mostly her Dad) during that time.  It keeps her busy, off the boob tube, and engaged. It also gives us yet another opportunity to record a wacky quote.

The other night she helped with making chicken cutlets... 

C: "Want to help me make chicken cutlets?"

L: "No. I don't like it."

C: "What don't you like?"

L: "The cock lets. I don't like it."

Lessons in Backseat Parenting

Sometimes L takes SO long we have to flat leave her at the dinner table. I know that seems harsh, but with an audience it could take hours.  If we rush her in the moment and tell her to finish up - there will be no less than 5 choking scares. The rule is - adults can leave early, kids have to wait until the adults are done. May not seem fair, but it's our kingdom. We all eat, at a normal pace. Sit for a few minutes, but then it's time to clean up and get on with the night. We'll leave her and tell her she has to finish up.  This time, her Daddy stuck around with her - he picked up a magazine and I left the table.  I was close, in the living room, so I could hear the conversation. This is how it went:

L: "Get away from the table, Asshole."
Me: (trying to remain calm, not really successful - from the living room) "WHAT'D YOU SAY?"
L: "Get away, Asshole."

I waited for the ball & chain to spring into action, he was parent on duty - closest distance to the kid therefore it's on him to discipline. But alas, I hear no movement to that end, just a flip of a paper - is he really that into whatever magazine he's reading through?

Me: (to myself) "Do not backseat parent. Do not backseat parent. Do not backseat parent."

Me: (aloud, trying not to sound like an asshole: ironic) "Are you seriously going to let her talk like that?"
The ball & chain: "Like what? Should she say please?"
Me: (trying to remain calm, somewhat successful) "What did she just say?"
The ball & chain: "Get away from the table, Abelle." (The dog, if you aren't familiar.  The way she says it is like "Ana-BOWL" and really fast, I swear, all I hear now is asshole.)

Me: "Yeah, right, I guess no please is necessary...."

I passed along what I heard. Apparently I was wrong; way wrong, I can be such an Abelle sometimes.

Her Favorite Daddy

Seen & heard Sunday night... 

L: "Who's my favorite Daddy?" 
Ball&Chain: "I don't know? WHO?" 
L: "It's YOU, Ball&Chain*!"

*She didn't really say Ball&Chain, instead she used his first name, only.

Where Princesses Live

Daddy: "How was school today, L?"
L: "GOOD!"
Daddy: "Who did you play with?"
L: "I dunno."
Daddy: "Was Ellie in school?"
L: "Yup!"
Daddy: "What about Eitan?"
L: "Yup."
Daddy: "What about (insert all the kids name in her class)?"
L: "Yup."
Daddy: "What about Buzz Lightyear?"
L: "NOOO! He lives in Toy Story!!!!"
Daddy: "What about Jessie?"
L: "Which Jessie?" (She does have a little girl named Jessica in her class.)

Daddy: "You know, with Bullseye?"
L: "NOOO! I told you, they live in TOY STORY!"
Daddy: "What about Cinderella, was she at school today?"
L: "NOO, Daddy! Cinderella lives in the Cinderella castle. And in my underwears!"

World Beast

Last Night

Daddy: "L, what do you think you want Santa to bring you?"
L: "I dunno. Barbie. And Princesses...."
Daddy: "What about world peace?" (side note: I too was confused as to why he would promote her to wish for something that Santa can't deliver on just yet?)
L: "Yes, I want Beauty & the Beast."

--------

Dad: "What are you going to get Daddy?"
L: "Um, princesses, Belle, Sleeping Beauty..."

-------

Tonight

Set the scene: L dropped something in the car. 

Daddy: "Where did it go?"

L: "Under there."

Daddy: "Under where?"
L: "Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

Literally hours later - you can hear her laughing about it, still!
"Under where?" Get it? Underwear. 

And so potty humor begins. 

A little while longer? She flipped from just screaming (and laughing) "UNDERWEAR" to singing "It's underwear tiiiime!" Alla Jersey Shore & It's T-Shirt Tiiiiime!