Showing posts with label blah blah blah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blah blah blah. Show all posts

Friday, September 20, 2013

The longest three minutes of my life

Driving home from school.

Nina: Are we 5 minutes away?

Me: Yes. Even less than 5 minutes.

Nina: Six minutes?

Me: No. Six is more than 5. We're, like, 3 minutes away.

Nina: It's been 3 minutes?

Me: No, it's been 1 minute.

Nina: So we're 1 minute away?

Me: No, we're 2 minutes away.

Nina: One minute?

Me: Two minutes.

Nina: Two minutes away?

Me: Now it's more like 1 minute.

Nina: Three minutes?

Me: Yep.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Special moments of the week

Nina: Why did the dog cross the road?

Me: I don't know. Why?

Nina: Because the sign says dogs are allowed to go on the street!

Me: Is that supposed to be a joke?

Nina: Yeah! And there are people in the road and they will bump into the dog, and then they will say, "What are you doing in the road, dog!" Ha ha ha ha ha!

Me: Uh. Um. Ha?



Me: Did you have fun at gymnastics today?

Nina: Yeah. (Shakes her head sadly) But Joshua and Moosie (her two favorite toys) didn't have fun because they had to stay in the diaper bag.


Me: I've been working on the railroad, all the live-long day!

Nina: Stop singing!

Me: Don't you like my singing?

Nina: No! And if you keep it up, you're going to get a time out!


At the dinner table.

Nina: It's a joke.

Me: What's a joke?

Nina: My dinner.

Me: Thanks.


I got Nina a balloon for Valentine's Day.

Nina: A balloon! It says "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Me: No it doesn't. It says, "I love you."

Nina: No, it says "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Me: No, it says, "I love you." See, here is the letter "I," and then this heart means...

Nina: IT SAYS "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!"

Me: OK, if you say so.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Special moments of the week

Nina: Mommy, your back is as squishy as your tummy!


iPad: Great job! You drew the letter "Q"!

Nina: No I didn't! I drew the letter "P".

Me: I'm pretty sure if the iPad says it's a "Q", then it's a "Q".

Nina: No, it's a "P".

Me: OK, if you say so.


Me: Did you wash your hands after going potty?

Nina: Yeah, I did.

Me: Good girl!

(I lean in to give her a hug. She gently puts her hands on my cheeks and looks into my eyes.)

Nina: I didn't wash my hands. They still have pee pee on them from going potty.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

My ideal child

Nina: My game just turned off all by itself! Maybe the batteries just ran out.

Me: No, it just stops making noise if you don't play with it for a while.

Nina: ...

Me: If only that's how children worked.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Cleanliness is next to... ah, who am I kidding?


My highchair's removable top says, "Dishwasher Safe Tray" but what it should say is, "Only when you have a starving, screaming baby doing the plank to avoid being strapped into his highchair will you remember that you never cleaned the oatmeal-booger-drool encrusted layer that formed on this tray after breakfast, so just snap this sucker off and presto! There's a mostly clean tray underneath!" But kudos to Fisher-Price for advertising it as if I actually put the tray into my dishwasher to clean it, rather than just rubbing it with a wipe every few days. It makes other people think I clean things.

I mean, I do clean things. Or at least I make an attempt. Usually I start something, like wiping down the counters, and three to eight seconds in I hear, "Blah blah blah blah, YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME! Blah blah blah blah" and then I have to go do something even worse than cleaning -- playing with a 3-year-old.

"But little kids love helping their moms clean!" you say. You must not have kids. Because if you did you would know that while kids do love helping their moms clean, their moms do not love having children. I meant their moms do not love having children around while they clean. And also the other thing you thought I meant.

It is so much easier to (insert any activity here) when you distract your little walking disaster with something shiny rather than trying to get her to participate. Not that I didn't try letting Nina help me clean. The Books say things like, "pitching in can be a great way for your little helper to feel like she is part of the family" and "if you don't let your sweet, innocent child help around the house, he will turn into a heartless, selfish, antisocial failure."

I was pumped! My house would be spotless and my kid would end up a well-adjusted failure instead of just a selfish one! But what The Books don't say is you better hire a construction crew to put your house back together after Teeny Tornado starts "helping."

Here is what you can expect when you ask your child for help:

Say: Be mommy's big helper and throw this diaper in the trash!
Expect: To clean poop off your walls.

Say: Let's all clean up after dinner!
Expect: To find a trail of smashed food leading from the dining room table to to the kitchen, the kitchen to the bathroom, the bathroom to your bedroom, and if you have an especially helpful child, from your bedroom onto every nice pair of pants you own.

Say: You can help sort the laundry!
Expect: To fold laundry for the rest of the day and still end up with a pile of unfolded laundry.

Say: Why don't you use your cute toy broom to help me sweep?
Expect: To be hit in the eye with a cute toy broom.

Say: Use this harmless wet paper towel to clean whatever you want while I use the real cleaner to do something useful.
Expect: To stop cleaning every three to eight seconds to pretend-spray the wet paper towel with 409.

Say: You can watch TV while I clean.
Expect: To spend several hours watching Busytown Mysteries and wondering why all of the adults are so stupid and all of the children drive cars shaped like food.

So go ahead and invite your little one to help out. At least it's more fun laughing at their attempts at "helping" than playing hide-and-seek for the umpteenth time.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Sorry officer, my daughter won't stop talking

We are driving to gymnastics class.

Nina: Where are we?

Mommy: We're on Antioch Street and 149th Street.

Nina: Antioch?

Mommy: Yes.

Nina: Where are we now?

Mommy: Uh... 148th Street.

Nina: Where are we now?

Mommy: 147th Street.

Nina: Where are we now?

Mommy: 146th Street.(Repeat this exchange until 141st Street)

Nina: Where are we now?

Mommy: Nina, I am not answering you anymore. We are almost there. Stop asking me.

Nina: Where are we now?

Mommy: ...

Nina: WHERE ARE WE NOW??

Mommy: ...

Nina: You aren't paying attention to me!

Mommy: I told you I am not answering that question anymore.

Nina: Wherearewewherearewewherearewewherearewe....

Mommy: Please stop, you are making me crazy!

Nina: *laughing uncontrollably* Where are we now?

Then several things happened at once. My blood pressure shot up, my brain gave itself a lobotomy, I realized I was speeding, and I noticed a police officer with a radar gun on the side of the road.

My first thought as the officer walked to my car was "maybe she will arrest me and I will get some quiet alone time." No such luck.

On the ticket there is no place to plead "guilty by reason of insanity."

Doggy time out

Rocky stole some of Owen's food off the table today.

Big mistake, buddy. Nina caught him red-pawed.

Nina: *gasp* Rocky! You are a bad doggy!

Rocky: *munch munch munch*

Nina: If you do that one more time, you are going to get a doggy time out!

Rocky: ...

Nina: In your bedroom!

Rocky:...

Nina: And I am not going to pet you! I am going to pet your doggy friend Hailey instead.

Oh snap, Rocky. She went there.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

A dog by any other name...

This morning I was reading this article from Baby Sideburns, and Nina saw a picture of the author and asked, "Is that you mommy?" It certainly could be, because this is my life.

Nina: (Pointing at her brown stuffed dog) What's his name?

Mommy: I don't know, what do you want to name him? (mistake #1)

Nina: How about Moosie?

Mommy: You already have a Moosie. How about Scruffy? He looks Scruffy.

Nina: No, because that is the dog on Charlie Brown.

Mommy: No, that is Snoopy. Do you want to name him Snoopy?

Nina: No, because Snoopy is black and white and this dog is brown.

Mommy: Ok then, how about Brownie? (mistake #2, suggesting a color name, because now she wants to name everything for its color)

Nina: No mom, because Brownies are something you eat, and you can't eat my doggy.

Mommy: Ok, then what do you want to name him? (mistake #1, repeated)

Nina: How about Teddy Bear?

Mommy: Sure, we can call him Teddy Bear since he looks a little like a teddy bear. (mistake #3, saying too much)

Nina: No mom, he isn't a bear.

Mommy: We can just call him Teddy then.

Nina: No. How about we call him Doggy?

Mommy: ...

Nina: Because he's a dog.

Mommy: Great. Doggy it is.

It's hard being a girl

Nina runs into the kitchen, slips, and lands on her face.

Nina: Owww! Owww! Boobie! Boobie!

Mommy: You are fine, get up.

Nina: Oww! I have a boobie! I have a boobie!

Mommy: You have a what?

Nina: A boobie!

Mommy: How many boobies do you have?

Nina: Three! Here, and here, and here (pointing to her face and hands).

Mommy: They are called boo-boos.

Nina: Oh yeah. Ow! I have a boo-boo!

Bedtime Stories: Princess Nina's Magical Unicorn

Nina: Tell me a story, mommy.

Mommy: Once upon a time there was a princess named Nina who lived in a pretty pink castle and Nina never wanted to sleep and always asked her mommy to tell her one more story, but mommy was really tired and wanted to go to sleep so Princess Nina's magical unicorn told her stories instead. The end, good night.

Nina: But mom! I don't have a unicorn.

Mommy: Nina, it's a story. It's pretend.

Nina: I don't have a unicorn!

Mommy: Ugh, OK, fine, your dog told you stories.

Nina: Hehe, yeah. Good night.