After a month of pumpkin patching it, it's sure nice to have a weekend to catch up. Luckily, with a section cross-country meet on Thursday and Veteran's Day on Friday, it's been a nice long weekend with the kiddos. I'd like to interject here with a short snippet of:
"Sh** my kid says, Vol. 2" - in celebration of Veteran's Day.
"Bi-yah, was a solider?"
"Yes, bi-yah was a solider, that is why we celebrate Veteran's Day for him."
"Oh, I call Biyah?"
"Hi Biyah! You were a solider?. . . And nee-nee was a beautiful princess?"
The above mentioned comment made my mother's month!
As the weekend progressed, I decided that it would be a good idea to replace the baby swing with a baby jumper. Miles was beginning to squirm in his swing, it won't keep him asleep, and quite honestly I think he's past the weight limit. Carter helped (read severely hindered the process) of setting up the jumper. It isn't a "johnny jump-up", but rather a stationary device that the kids just "jump" in. Miles LLLOOOVVEED his new jumper. I am not exaggerating when I state that he jumped for a solid 20 minutes. He just laughed and jumped, and laughed some more. He is full-on crawling all over, pulling himself up on things, and earning many bruises in the process.
Speaking of bruises, Carter decided to replace his old bruise with a new goose-egg this weekend. Just a few weeks ago, Carter managed to meet our low windowsill with a brute amount of force, which resulted in a nice horizontal bruise for about three weeks. No sooner had the remains of this bruise disappeared, when Bradley brings a sobbing Carter into the house. He turned him around to show me his face. Some moms may have been upset, but I have recently learned that there is no need to panic unless the bruise/goose egg remains indented into the forehead. Since this new boo-boo/ping-pong ball was promptly sticking out, I really didn't even worry and in fact had to be prompted by Bradley to get some ice. As our friend Brent put it, "that thing is big enough for a calf to suck on". (They say things like this in the south).
Anywho, taking our bruised children out in public is also really interesting. I just hope people look at us and realize that we are not capable of child beating, but also question if our kids are really that uncoordinated.
I'll end with a third volume of "Sh** my kids says":
"Be nice you two!".
Yes, in the midst of a brief argument (which I will contextualize for you), our son came up between us, smiled, and said these words. I must say I was a bit embarrassed and proud at the same time. I really have a phobia of arguing in front of our kids, and we rarely let words pass between us, but I was so proud of Carter, in the midst of being humiliated that our two year old had to get us to shape up.
To our defense, my right breast was about as bloated as Roseanne Barr on steroids, due to the fact that our youngest's nursing is a bit off-kilter. Seeing as how he was acting hungry I decided to let the little one try to relieve my pain, when the floodwaters were let loose. I'm not kidding, it's as if several small holes were put into a water-balloon with about 380 PSI. Poor Miles is getting drenched in milk, I am soaked as well, and I start yelling for a towel. Bradley clearly does not sense the urgency in my voice and doesn't respond with the velocity I am wanting, and therefore some words were exchanged. Sorry to gross you all out, just really wanted to put our two-year old's words into context.
In other news, we are really trying to enforce going pee ONLY in the potty (or the lawn). He (carter) has gone number two for forever on the potty, but we are trying to save up for college instead of funding the shareholders of Pampers. Anyways, any thoughts/prayers/meditations towards this would be greatly appreciated.
Thank GOD for four-day weekends!
