OK, so first, my 3 year old is quite a little singer. She is forever making up little songs and boring the rest of us with them. My personal favorite goes something like this: "I love my mommy. She's so pretty. I love my mommy. She's so pretty." Repeat. Seriously, this one has an emotional depth to it that just knocks you off your feet. Or maybe that's my feet. Another popular one features Bob Dylan, her stuffed monkey: "Bob likes pickles, and climbing in trees." At least, I think it's about the monkey; I don't know how in the world she would know if the real Dylan actually likes either of those things. Anyway, the point is, she sings.
And she's the youngest of 5. So she hears a whole lot of stuff that's far more appropriate for kids who are older than she is.
So today, I was doing important things like seeing which of my Facebook friends had posted the most annoying status and watching my blog hits, when I overheard her singing to herself in the bathroom. She likes the bathroom. Loves brushing her teeth. Likes to make goofy faces at herself in the mirror. So she's in there singing in a soft, sweet little voice: "My brother really sucks...my brother really sucks...my brother really sucks."
Just gets you right here, doesn't it?
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My nine year old attempted to spit on my from his perch high in our Magnolia tree tonight. He thought this was funny. I narrowly escaped the glop with a nimble, hearkening-back-t0-my-in-shape-20's hop. When we were both on the ground a few minutes later, his only defense? "But I didn't get you!"
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My eleven year old was at a friend's house the other day. He told me that he and "Johnny" were watching the Kim Kardashian reality show (WTF?) and they paused it just so they could look at her for longer. Can someone please come install a filter in this kid? I mean, I'm glad he feels comfortable telling me stuff, but can we talk about discretion, maybe? Being his mom has shattered any sentimental notion I may have had about wanting my children to discuss everything with me. I'm fine if they hold back a few things.
I think after my tirade about celebrities who are only famous for being socialites or wealthy and how the way a person looks mean absolutely zilch about who they are on the inside, he was probably wishing he'd held that one back as well.
Yup, I pour it on thick and serve it with a side of The World Is Going To Hell in a Handbasket. I have come to realize that I am fine with being that mom, the one whose kids roll their eyes when she gives the What's Really Important in Life speech. And they have given me copious chances lately.
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One of my kids asked me the other day if sex is the one and only way to have children. As in: "You mean, if I want to be a parent, I have to do that?"
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I spend half of my time trying to figure out how to respond to their various mind-benders and the other half of my time sweeping the freakin' floor. It's a glamorous life I lead.
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2 comments:
OH. Oh dear. I see all this coming down my pike. I also have a sweet little three-year-old who likes to sing, and I'm just waiting for the day when the song holds certain words. *ahem* My four-year-old got in trouble the other day for mooning the other kids. God help me if he does it at school. MTL's seven-year-old simultaneously loves princesses and Barbie and emits the most tremendous belches and farts. The eleven-year-old is starting to show disturbing signs of, well, being a preteen boy. ACK!!!! And then there's the snarky fourteen-year-old and I'm just going to stop there because I may begin to weep.
You're not alone. God help me, you're not alone.
Oh no..do not let him think Kim Kardashian is real! al though, I, ahem, like to watch their show (in my room, no kids allowed) she is no way what a real woman is. He will have you to thank for showing him that when he becomes a loving husband who is respectful and generous and honest.
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