i’m blaming daddy…….and cats

apparently daddy watched cat videos on youtube with the kids when i wasn’t home, and there was one of a cat twerking to the “big fat butt” song (whatever that is).  so this is what i got at dinner.

7yo:  i think i’ll finish my dinner and go twerk in my room.

me: …….

thanks daddy.

way to make an exit

me [to 7yo]: it’s bedtime.

7yo:  I WILL NOW LEAVE THE ROOM IN AN EXTREMELY WEIRD WAY.  [wiggles, hops, jumps, spins, dances, tumbles out the door with a bizarre look on her face]

whereupon daddy and i look at each other, shake our heads and start laughing.

i’m a single mother of two kids and a zombie, apparently

i walk in the door coming home from work.  7yo runs up to me to say hello.

daddy:  did you tell mama about me?

7yo:  daddy has a bandage on his arm. he says he was bitten by a zombie and now he’s going to turn into a zombie. and when he’s tired, he wants to eat brains.  [giving daddy very skeptical look]

daddy:  and i’m coming for you later, tasty brain girl.  [7yo screams and hides behind me, pretending to shake with fear]

me: so glad i came home. [contemplates going back to work]

 

seriously, single mother of three here *sigh*

daddy and kids making a ton of noise in the other room.

me [looking at clock]:  it’s past time to get ready for bed!!  let’s go!

10yo [skipping into the room]:  sorry, mama.  daddy was teaching me how to shoot off people’s heads. (playing a weird, creepy xbox game, not IRL people)

me:……so glad daddy is teaching you the important things in life.  *sigh*

i think i need to worry about what daddy is teaching them when i’m not home

came home from work and walked in on kids having dinner. i have no idea what they were talking about, but this is what i heard:

9yo [to 7yo, with emphasis]:  exactly.  YOU are a WOMAN of MANY changes.

i really need to get home earlier because i’m starting to worry what daddy is teaching them while i’m away.

i blame daddy

i come out of the bathroom.  both kids are snickering. i look around suspiciously but see nothing.  9yo whispers to 7yo and tries to get her to tell me something.  7yo refuses.

9yo:  7yo said you said she could use your labeler.

me: um, no, i didn’t.  [narrows eyes at them]  what did you do?

9yo: well, we made some labels….. [laughing behind her hand]

7yo:  i typed in “bum” and made a label to stick on my bum!!!  [giggling crazily and turning around to show me her bum]

9yo:  and then we typed in poopy and pee…….  [cracking up and showing me labels]

me:  stop. just stop. now.  [drops head sadly]

this is clearly daddy’s fault, as they KNOW i don’t want to hear about bums or toilets or whatever.  maybe i should just be happy they are organizing?

so glad we’re raising them right…

the other day…

daddy:  we’re going to take all the coins in these cups and put them in one of those coin counting machines so we can put them in your bank accounts.  sound like a plan?

9yo:  need to turn them into paper money cuz i got to get those dollars, yo

daddy:….

this is why i’m afraid to go to sleep at night

when going in to tidy up the kids’ bathroom before bed, daddy noticed that 7yo had written this on the bathroom wall:

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[read: Darkness riseing over us and the city. “ahaha”hahahaha!]

when asked about it and where it came from (we were hoping from a show or book), she said she just thought it up and giggled hysterically.

hold me.  i’m afraid.

and on the way home…. more bums

on the way home from holiday lighting, kids are in the back seat.  they have 2 blue glow necklaces and they hooked them together so they have one large circle.  i am thinking they are so cute, posing their heads together and saying it’s a picture frame.  then they decide to play harry potter, and the circle is the entrance to gryffindor common room, and 9yo is the fat lady. and i’m thinking how creative they are and still so cute.  and then…

9yo:  i am the the fat lady.  my name is….mrs. buttsky.

me: um, no.

6yo [laughing]:  and my password is….pikachubums!

daddy and me:  NO.  JUST.  NO.

so much for cute and creative.

so how is your night going?

soooo daddy bought a hockey mask a la Jason and was just chasing the kids around the house.  my head and eardrums are completely traumatized by the shrieking.

9yo was running away, but 6yo is standing there shrieking without moving.

daddy:  she would be the one in that commercial about the bad decisions who would run and hide behind the chainsaws…..

me:  [dying laughing]

that’s just not right

daddy nicknamed the 6yo varmint when she was about 6 months old.  she has totally lived up to this name.  however, recently he decided that she has a new nickname……wait for it…… honey badger.  as in honey badger don’t give a shit.  bwahahahaha  yes, it’s totally not right.  but it’s probably pretty accurate at this stage.

hold me, i’m frightened

while at disney…

6yo:  you know there are 8 dwarves.

me: no, i’m pretty sure there are only 7.

6yo:  no, there’s 8. the 8th one is named crazy and he runs around with a chainsaw like this. [holds arms up above head like wielding a chainsaw and makes a horrible face and yells.]

me [to daddy]:  can we leave her here? she’s starting to scare me.

single mother of three

i woke up on saturday and walked out into the family room.  6yo is sitting on daddy’s lap and proudly announces:  mama, daddy taught me how to cut people in half with a chainsaw and i did it all by myself!!!!!  [huge smile and lots of giggles]

it takes me a minute to figure out that they are playing some godforsaken game on xbox. i then narrow my eyes at daddy and shake my head while exiting the room.

CRASH

so i have barely woken up and am in the bathroom.  the kids have spent most of the weekend playing “clubhouse” in our closet.  (yes, the same closet that the 9yo ran away to live in.  clearly our closet is fascinating beyond what i can see.)  i sit down and then i hear CRASH from the closet.  half naked, i jump up and throw open the door in time to see the back wire rack shelving that 1/3 of our clothes are on has come out of the wall and nearly landed on the kids.  9yo is crying about her toe, but 6yo is relatively calm.  apparently 9yo was trying to climb up on a bench/storage box we have in there and held onto the rack to pull her 65+ lb self up on it.  thankfully no one was hurt, but our closet is wrecked and daddy – who has done an awesome job of taking care of the kids while i was out of town – now has to spend the day fixing the rack.

 

so how was YOUR morning?  *sigh*

i just got home…

so i walk in the door and the kiddies are in the family room watching daddy play a video game.  6yo turns to me and says, “daddy says it’s a big peanut butter.”  i just stared at her for a minute in blank confusion before i remembered that daddy has been making an effort to say “peanut butter” instead of cussing.  LOL

um, what???

daddy [eating frozen slushee]:  whoa

6 and 8yo:  what happened?

daddy: you know when you eat ice cream too fast and you get brain freeze? well it was like that, but in my chest.

6yo:  oh, i know.  i got brain freeze eating a sno cone at school one time, and i was dead for a while.

daddy: …

6yo:  but then i was like, oh, i’m alive again.

daddy:  [nearly crashes truck laughing]

Christmas eve at our house

both kids were [oddly] dressed for Christmas eve service 2 hours early.  of course they were both wearing short sleeve dresses and open shoes, and of course for once it’s like 40 degrees outside. but whatever.

6yo:  we’re leaving in 7 minutes.

daddy:  no, we’re leaving at 7. the service is at 8.

[5 minutes later]  6yo:  we’re leaving in 8 minutes.

daddy:  no, we’re not! we’re leaving at 7!!

6yo: [10 minutes later]  we’re leaving in…

daddy:  WE’RE NOT LEAVING FOR AN HOUR.  STOP IT!

8yo:  you do realize that the 8 pm service won’t be over until 10.

me:  maybe.

8yo:  well that’s too late!!

me:  …coming from the child who constantly wants to stay up until midnight?!?

8yo:  10 pm is too late.  I NEED MY BEAUTY REST!!!

me:  [cracking up]  um, yeah.

we made it through the service without 8yo asking once when it was over.  however, 6yo repeated that she was bored about 15 times in the last 45 minutes and did her dead level best to set her finger on fire with the candle for candlelight vigil.  [sigh]

MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL!

 

um, what?

6yo [yes, she’s 6 now!!!! sniff]:  [putting beaded necklace on her teeth]   look, i have braces!!

daddy and me:  [laughing]

6yo:  the fun never stops when you have braces!!!!!

me:  ?

8yo:  “the fun never stops when you have braces.”  that’s an inspiring campaign slogan!!

me:  [takes more aspirin]

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5yo: [talking really loudly]

daddy: you need to keep it down. 

5yo: but when you talk loudly….

daddy: yes, but I’m allowed. I’m a grown up.

8yo: yeah, kids gotta learn to keep the volume down. unfortunately I’ve been hearing lectures about that for EIGHT YEARS.

daddy: unfortunately, we’ve needed to give those lectures for 8 years.

8yo: [rolls eyes]

single mother of three, with video games

daddy is playing borderlands 2 on the xbox while the kids watch.  5yo is cheering him on when he kills things. yay?

8yo tells him he should do a particular action to get past the next level/mission/whatever (can you tell i don’t play xbox?).  daddy says no, he has been working on this for several days and he will figure it out.

after trying numerous more times and 8yo telling him he should do what she says, he finally does do what she says….and makes it to the next whatever.  8yo is all “i told you so daddy.  daddy is pouting and grumpy now.  LMAO

never listen to the big fat pop up head

listening to 8yo supposedly narrating a puppet show while daddy reads 5yo a bedtime story.  apparently there were 2 sisters arguing, which was interrupted by a “big pop up fat head” (according to daddy) for which there was absolutely no reason, and then the story ended when 8yo said the big mamma head came in.  there was some sort of moral to this puppet show, but i was laughing too hard to hear it.

yeah, yeah, a good deal

daddy told kids we were getting some of the zillion bags of stuffed animals in storage out to give to the fire department and police department to hand out to kids who are hurt or scared.  surprisingly, this seemed to go over well.  we tried to stop by the fire department, but no one answered, so we took the bags home.  each child was holding on to one animal from each bag, which they were SUPPOSED to put back when we gave them away tomorrow.  operative word being supposed.

8yo – the MASSIVE stuffed animal junkie – came to me a little while ago and said now that she had held bunny for a while, she just couldn’t give her up again. i told her that was not part of the deal.  she didn’t say anything.  a few minutes ago, she came out and said she needed to talk to daddy.  she comes back and says that daddy told her it was ok for her to keep rabbit. this made me >.< except that she leaned back around the corner and said, “that was a pretty good deal daddy got me, dontcha think?  and tomorrow i’m gonna pay him $2 of my allowance whether he wants it or not.”  *sigh* well, what’s one more stuffed animal when you have like 50 million in the house anyway.

btw, daddy’s a sucker. just sayin.

box of what???

daddy gave the kids a large box that some furniture came in.   they had me cut out a window and make a door and they decorated it like an apartment, one which apparently has a cat [note: mama is allergic to cats].  however, today this is what i got:

5yo:  you know what else we call our box? when we have done something bad, we call it the Box of Shame and we go in it and feel ashamed of something bad we did.

i am not entirely sure how i feel about this….i am laughing hysterically while trying to figure it out…..