Clever Lads

How about a lesson in cunning? Lets call it 'The Small Child's Guide To Getting What You Want'.

1. Make sure you're in a very public place, with lots of people around. Preferably old ladies. A grocery store line up works perfectly.

2. Lock onto the prize. Candy usually works best in these cases, the jumbo size to make it all worth it.

3. Make sure you have your big brother on backup. He's not vital to the operation but it never hurts to ensure victory.

4. Hold out the jumbo size candy to your dad-Skittles in this case-and utter the following sentence:

"Daddy, I want to taste the rainbow" 

And on command:

"Ya dad, we want to taste the rainbow"

Cue "awwws" and smiles from the old ladies in line.

*It's important to have an audience.

5. Wait for the inevitable capitulation. No parent wants to look like the asshole that always says no when you're asking so adorably.

6. Be prepared to have a couple and then hand them over to your mother when you get home. They are, after all, her favorite candy too.

It's much more effective than a temper tantrum at the checkout. Just ask Jeff.

Conversations

Don't tell him I told you, but every once in a while there's a glimpse of the person my teenager will be once the hormones and moodiness have leveled off. 

I'm not saying today was one of those rare days, but the conversation made me smile regardless. That kid is so much like me, it's scary.

Liam: God mom, don't you think you went overboard a bit?

Me: Noooooo. In fact, I think I'll go buy a rug for the front door that says "ho ho ho, Merry Christmas" and then you can look at it every time you come home!

Liam: Ha. Ha. Ha.

Me: You're so ironic Liam.

Liam: I know right?

**Me rolling eyes SO HARD at that phrase, it's the most annoying ever and I have found myself spitting it out on more than one occasion**

Liam: You're weird.

Me: Don't say that! Hey, you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to decorate your room while you're at your dads this weekend. Tinsel, lights, a little tree, it'll be FUN. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and ground you. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it back down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and take your gifts back.

Liam:...okay, you win.

So, while I'm not actually planning on decorating his room it's nice to know that if I did, he'd suffer through it for the sake of presents. 

Merry Christmas!

Little Big Ears

Conversations with my children are an endless source of amusement lately. They are what makes being a parent totally worth it, my kids are hilarious. Truly.

They also have big ears and even bigger mouths. We really have to watch ourselves around them now.

Example, as we're trudging to school this morning;

Nicky: I need to hold your hand for energy mom.
Me: just walk in front of me for this part. The people who live here are too (fucking, but I didn't say that out loud) lazy to shovel their sidewalk so there's not enough room.
Nicky: Oh they're lazy? That's what daddy called you.
Me: oh REALLY? Why did he say that?
Nicky: because you didn't wash the dishes.
Me: I see. When did he say that?
Nicky: When you were at work.

Of course I immediately texted Jeff and warned him about bitching in front of the kids. The fact that he called me lazy? I'm pretty sure he said that the same night he wrote really this really hard on the fridge pad:

"RINSE THE DISHES BEFORE YOU PUT THEM IN THE DISHWASHER"

(Only reason I knew he wrote that is because I saw them imprint of the words on the paper underneath. He wisely ripped that message up after he got over his fit of pique.)

We all have our limitations. He's a major hothead and I'm A-Okay with leaving a sinkful of dirty dishes for him to clean.

Anyway, point being! We're past the point of being able to talk freely and them not really understanding.

Also, he didn't deny calling me lazy. Shit. My cover has been blown.

Manipulation

I've hit upon parenting gold. I just have to figure out how to make it work for every possible scenario that might come up.

It's simple really; fear. The concept is nothing new, and here's how it played out today while we were waiting for our lemonseed poppy cupcakes to bake.

Nicky: if I have a drink of your coffee, will I DIE??
Me: of course not!
*he brings the mug almost to his lips*
Me: wait! It WILL kill you!
Nicky: what? It will KILL me?
Me: well, no not really. I was just kidding.
Nicky: well what will happen if I drink it?
*thinking quickly*
Me: you'll stop growing. You won't grow as big as Liam or Daddy.
Nicky: are you serious?
Me: I am.

And he slowly put the mug back on the table muttering something about how THAT was not a good thing.

Guys, it was so effective. And I didn't have to yell myself hoarse over him doing something that I didn't want him to do.

Win/win.

Kids are a blessing.

My teenager did two things on Sunday that guaranteed his life for the next month at least. I say that because the teen years are WAY HARDER than toddlers any day. Teenagers can make you so frustrated that it's a good thing they prefer to shut themselves up in their rooms. Because if they were in your face like a toddler, they'd die.

Maybe that's just my house? My teenager? Is mine weird?

Anyway, he hugged me. Voluntarily. With witnesses! For a boy who was so attached to me that he forced me to carry him well into kindergarten, and who held my hand till at least grade 2, he hates hugs.

And then he thanked me for giving him life. That one came out of left field, even though it was Thanksgiving. You see, usually he lives in a boat named LIAM, floating on the sea of ME, way out on the planet called SELF INDULGENCE.

I had to wipe a tear from my eye.

I kid. He's not THAT bad. Actually he's much the same as I was as a teenager. I'm fond of telling him that too. He LOVES when I tell him that.

Now, if he could only wake up to his damn alarm clock so he didn't spend the whole morning stomping around because he's slept in. If that happened I could maybe see the end of the hell that has been the last 4 years with his moodiness.

(well, the last 13 if I'm being completely honest. That kid was born with WAY more estrogen than I was expecting for a boy)

Of course then we're going to get into smoking and drinking and skipping school and drugs and ohmygod why does anyone have kids.

And then I get to do it all again with pretty much two at the same time.

I'm so glad we stopped at three.

I get no love.

I made my way downstairs because it was FAR too quiet for my liking and already today they had demolished a set of blinds. I can't leave them to their own devices for too long after all.

I was eating my lunch in the next room when the blinds thing happened, incidentally. Not napping, or on another floor, or anything like that. They're quick little buggers.

The basement was immaculate and they were both playing with cars in the playroom. Aw. It was a sweet picture, one of those ones where your heart swells and you feel like maybe you're doing something right.

Me: you guys look cozy, are you having fun?
Nicky: oh ya, oh ya.
Josh: Nicky's my best friend!
Me: that's awesome. Nicky, who is your best friend?
Nicky: it's not you mom. 
Me:....okay?
Nicky: my best friend is Liam.

Wtf? He's not even here and if he WAS, he'd most likely be yelling at his brothers to get out of his room. I'll have to remember this in 5 years when they're beating the hell out of each other for some reason or another.

Not by the hair of MY chinny-chin-chin.

I contemplated taking a picture to illustrate. Only thing is, I also have big pores and wasn't in the mood to highlight them. Another product of the Foote family gene pool.

I'm talking about chin hairs, people. And from what I've been able to tell, it runs in the family.

First was my mom with her mega-long thing that she was trying to grow out like a dreadlock. Seriously. She thought it was hilarious.

Then my sister mentioned she had one. I think. I may just be inventing that to not feel so alone, and I have an awful memory so I'll have to wait and see if she confirms*. But anyway, I'm pretty sure she had one too. She probably cried like a baby plucking it out.

And then a few years ago Jeff started laughing and pointed out that I was the proud new owner of my very own. Blech, was gone super duper fast. I found another one this morning, which is what brought this on. They sprout up a couple times a year. Again, blech.

Thing is, our genes are really strong. Like, mega strong in that you could pick the Footes out of a crowd of 500 people. And I feel a real responsibility to my female Foote cousins, so that they can keep an eye out for this. I betcha my aunts get them. It's a family secret. A revolting, but strangely fascinating, family secret.

Chin hairs, big pores, hairy toes (oops, let another one slip). Something has to balance the bright and sunny Foote smile right?

Consider this my PSA to you Chelsea, Brittany, Melissa, Stephanie, Brooke, Raeanna, and Kayleigh. You're welcome.

*She did NOT, in fact, get a hair on her chin. It was on her arm, and it's called a CALCIUM hair. And OMG please tell her that I DID NOT just write that for 20 people to read on the internet. Yes, I was yelled at and threatened until I cleared that up. She would probably have preferred me not to say she had a long hair on her arm but we're going for entertainment here guys. And I still maintain that she cried like a baby plucking it out.