Tyler's been at scout camp all week. It's been strange around here without him. I've tried pouring on the sarcasm to try to fill the empty space he left behind, but it's not the same and I'm not so sure my girls have appreciated my efforts.
Here's a few Tyler moments I found on a random scratch pad.
Watching tv, sitting next to Tyler.
Me: Ew!
Nate: What'd he do?
Me: He licked my elbow! That's the second time today!
Don't worry, there hasn't been a third time.
~
Dinner conversations.
Tyler: Turtles can breathe through their butts.
McKenzie: No, they can't.
Tyler: Yes, they can. Look it up!
It's true.
~
I have no recollection of the context.
Tyler, completely straight-faced: I'm pretty good at lying. The only reason you didn't believe me was because what I said was ridiculous. But my voice and facial expressions gave nothing away.
He's an excellent liar (in a mostly harmless/ha-fooled you! way), which is why I now question everything that comes out of his mouth. Everything.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Here comes the smolder
In the car with Tyler.
Tyler: Are those zebra stripes on your sunglasses?
Me: Yeah, aren't they cool?
Tyler: just shakes his head.
Me: What, do my sunglasses embarrass you?
Tyler: Kind of.
Me: Right, you know you want some.
Tyler: Eyeroll.
I start to sing along with the CD.
Tyler, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, subtly leans over to turn up the volume.
I continue to sing.
Tyler turns up the volume again.
Me: Hey, that's getting a little loud.
Tyler: Yeah, I'm trying to distract myself from your singing.
Me: Harumph.
Next song I opt not to sing, but dance.
Tyler turns off the radio.
Me: Hey, I wasn't even singing to that one.
Tyler, shaking his head: Yeah, but there was nothing I could do to distract me from (makes up and down hand gesturing in my direction) that.
Me, with a pouty lip: Hey.
Tyler shoots me a look.
Me: Is that your smolder?
Tyler: Yeah, I'm pretty proud of it.
It's a pretty impressive smolder.
Tyler: Are those zebra stripes on your sunglasses?
Me: Yeah, aren't they cool?
Tyler: just shakes his head.
Me: What, do my sunglasses embarrass you?
Tyler: Kind of.
Me: Right, you know you want some.
Tyler: Eyeroll.
I start to sing along with the CD.
Tyler, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, subtly leans over to turn up the volume.
I continue to sing.
Tyler turns up the volume again.
Me: Hey, that's getting a little loud.
Tyler: Yeah, I'm trying to distract myself from your singing.
Me: Harumph.
Next song I opt not to sing, but dance.
Tyler turns off the radio.
Me: Hey, I wasn't even singing to that one.
Tyler, shaking his head: Yeah, but there was nothing I could do to distract me from (makes up and down hand gesturing in my direction) that.
Me, with a pouty lip: Hey.
Tyler shoots me a look.
Me: Is that your smolder?
Tyler: Yeah, I'm pretty proud of it.
It's a pretty impressive smolder.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
So this middle aged thing...
A couple of weeks ago, as I was helping the kids get ready for bed, I suddenly caught a glimpse of my hand and thought, "Whose hand is that?" Actually, it was more like, "Good frick! Whose old lady hand is that?!" It was wrinkly and veiny and...old. I had a momentary freakout. And when I say freakout, I mean there was a loud display of shock and dismay and just general irrational freakoutedness. My family laughed at me, but I was having a seriously intense moment of middle age crisis. Sydney came down for a drink of water later that night, and as she hugged me goodnight again she said, "I'm sorry your hands got old."
Every 4th of July, my brother and sister-in-law throw a huge Independence Day bash for Nate's side of the family. There's a different theme every year. Last year was the Amazing Race. This year it was Minute to Win It, based on a television game show where contestants have a minute to perform various random tasks. I did surprisingly well, making it into the final round of competition (there were just four of the original forty left). The final task was called paper dragon (follow the link for a video demonstration), in which each player had to un-spool two large rolls of party streamers with a continuous windmill motion of the arms. I made a valiant effort, but in the end was outdone by a 15 and 10 year old. The next morning, I could not move my shoulders without excruciating pain. The pain settled into a throbbing ache by the end of day two, and by day four I was able to wield my hair dryer without wanting to cry. I kept thinking I was just too old for this stuff.
While we were visiting with family this past week I had the lovely opportunity to see the latest Twilight movie with six of my sisters-in-law and two teenage nieces. I've decided that these movies must be seen in groups, but if you're bringing teenagers along be prepared to duck and cover when the screaming starts. After the movie, there was the obligatory discussion of who was hotter---a discussion I always have a difficult time participating in because these are young men. Like, young men. And we've already established that I am no longer a young woman. I think I brought up the cougar factor, which led to a discussion of what constitutes a cougar. Some in our group thought you would have to be at least 40 to be granted cougar status, but I said if I'm old enough to be their mother then that did it for me. I am thoroughly creeped out by the idea of someone my age finding my teenage son sexually attractive. Thoroughly.
So now I find myself thinking, if I put any stock in that old you're only as old as you feel bit, I am royally screwed.
Every 4th of July, my brother and sister-in-law throw a huge Independence Day bash for Nate's side of the family. There's a different theme every year. Last year was the Amazing Race. This year it was Minute to Win It, based on a television game show where contestants have a minute to perform various random tasks. I did surprisingly well, making it into the final round of competition (there were just four of the original forty left). The final task was called paper dragon (follow the link for a video demonstration), in which each player had to un-spool two large rolls of party streamers with a continuous windmill motion of the arms. I made a valiant effort, but in the end was outdone by a 15 and 10 year old. The next morning, I could not move my shoulders without excruciating pain. The pain settled into a throbbing ache by the end of day two, and by day four I was able to wield my hair dryer without wanting to cry. I kept thinking I was just too old for this stuff.
While we were visiting with family this past week I had the lovely opportunity to see the latest Twilight movie with six of my sisters-in-law and two teenage nieces. I've decided that these movies must be seen in groups, but if you're bringing teenagers along be prepared to duck and cover when the screaming starts. After the movie, there was the obligatory discussion of who was hotter---a discussion I always have a difficult time participating in because these are young men. Like, young men. And we've already established that I am no longer a young woman. I think I brought up the cougar factor, which led to a discussion of what constitutes a cougar. Some in our group thought you would have to be at least 40 to be granted cougar status, but I said if I'm old enough to be their mother then that did it for me. I am thoroughly creeped out by the idea of someone my age finding my teenage son sexually attractive. Thoroughly.
So now I find myself thinking, if I put any stock in that old you're only as old as you feel bit, I am royally screwed.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Tales from the road
In the car.
McKenzie: I've got a wedgie.
Sydney: Don't say that, McKenzie. That's inappropriate.
Tyler: Probably from me.
McKenzie: No, probably from me.
Tyler: I say that, too.
McKenzie: Yeah, but not as much as me because you're the one always saying the inappropriate things.
That's a true statement.
~
Still in the car.
Nate: We're coming up on the cinnamon bathroom. Should we stop?
Me: Anyone need to use the bathroom?
Elise: Yes!
Me: McKenzie, do you want to use the bathroom?
McKenzie: Yes, very much so.
Sydney: This is the best bathroom in the whole wide world.
Another true statement.
~
Bedtime, towards the end of our stay.
Elise: Time is mean. Whenever you're having fun, it goes by fast. Whenever you're having so much not fun, it goes by slow.
Wisdom beyond her years.
~
And the highlight of the trip. For me.
McKenzie: You're good at painting nails.
Me: It's easier when you're not doing it to yourself. Plus, I'm old---I've had more practice.
McKenzie: You're not old, you're middle-aged.
Awesome.
McKenzie: I've got a wedgie.
Sydney: Don't say that, McKenzie. That's inappropriate.
Tyler: Probably from me.
McKenzie: No, probably from me.
Tyler: I say that, too.
McKenzie: Yeah, but not as much as me because you're the one always saying the inappropriate things.
That's a true statement.
~
Still in the car.
Nate: We're coming up on the cinnamon bathroom. Should we stop?
Me: Anyone need to use the bathroom?
Elise: Yes!
Me: McKenzie, do you want to use the bathroom?
McKenzie: Yes, very much so.
Sydney: This is the best bathroom in the whole wide world.
Another true statement.
~
Bedtime, towards the end of our stay.
Elise: Time is mean. Whenever you're having fun, it goes by fast. Whenever you're having so much not fun, it goes by slow.
Wisdom beyond her years.
~
And the highlight of the trip. For me.
McKenzie: You're good at painting nails.
Me: It's easier when you're not doing it to yourself. Plus, I'm old---I've had more practice.
McKenzie: You're not old, you're middle-aged.
Awesome.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Signs of Summer
Tucking Elise into bed last night.
Me: Cheer camp's tomorrow---you're going to have to get up a little earlier.
Elise: What time is cheer camp?
Me: Nine o'clock.
Elise: Nine o'clock in the morning?!
Nine is the new six.
Me: Cheer camp's tomorrow---you're going to have to get up a little earlier.
Elise: What time is cheer camp?
Me: Nine o'clock.
Elise: Nine o'clock in the morning?!
Nine is the new six.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Cuckoo for coconuts
One evening.
Elise: Can I have a bunny?
Me: No.
Elise: Can I please have a bunny?
Me: You know you can’t have a bunny. I don’t know why you keep asking me, you will never wear me down.
Elise: Can I have a bunny?
A few minutes later.
Tyler: Can I have a coconut?
Me: Like for a pet?
Tyler: No, just to have.
Me: What would you do with it?
Tyler: I’d cut it in half and bang it together to make horse sounds. I could gallop to and from school.
Speechless.
Elise: Can I have a bunny?
Me: No.
Elise: Can I please have a bunny?
Me: You know you can’t have a bunny. I don’t know why you keep asking me, you will never wear me down.
Elise: Can I have a bunny?
A few minutes later.
Tyler: Can I have a coconut?
Me: Like for a pet?
Tyler: No, just to have.
Me: What would you do with it?
Tyler: I’d cut it in half and bang it together to make horse sounds. I could gallop to and from school.
Speechless.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Tyler says "Ugh!" to drugs
A while back, Tyler came home from school with these:
Um, why?
Bear in mind, Tyler is in 8th grade.
Hey Tyler, want to smoke some weed?
Back off, man. I don’t have time for your uncool drugs. Can’t you see I’m measuring here?
Seriously, what is the purpose?
Um, why?
Bear in mind, Tyler is in 8th grade.
Hey Tyler, want to smoke some weed?
Back off, man. I don’t have time for your uncool drugs. Can’t you see I’m measuring here?
Seriously, what is the purpose?
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