Noah-isms

While alot of you other moms are out there bringing home the bacon, I get paid in poopy diapers and Noah-isms.... It's like getting paid in that triple layered gum, but better. ;)

I'm sure you all like to brag on your kids, and I'm sure they are just as cute as the next kid, but seriously, my kid says the BEST things. Hands.Down. I will take you toe to toe - head to head - toddler-ism for toddler-ism and win every time. I'm sorry. But let's face it: There is no ism like a Noah-ism.

So to prove my point, here are a few that I have saved throughout the last few weeks to brighten your evening. There are so many, I had to narrow it down to the top ten. 

10) N: Why isn't Captain America one of the x-guys?

      (Obviously not well versed in comic-back stories....)Me: Well.... maybe they live in different places so they just don't know eachother.... (YES YES I KNOW! X-MEN ARE MUTANTS AND CAPTAIN AMERICA IS JUST A GENETICALLY ALTERED HEAVY ARMS-MAN...oh wait...that's kinda mutated.... right? So sue me if I didn't want to explain "mutant" or "genetically altered" to a four-year old. Or even different authors because that would crush his dream of the Avengers being real... like ousting Santa Claus, but worse)

    N: But Captain America lives in America..... and the X-guys live in America...... sooooooo

    

Doh!

9) (Listening to the radio) 

   N: Why is this girl on fire in this song?!?

8) N: Why are Indians naked outside?.... (pause pause pause)... Can I be?

7) N: Is Dinah still a baby?

    Me: Yes, but she is growing up 

    N: Is she going to have Wine Cat food when she gets big?

6) (On how you know the difference between boys and girls)

     N: Boys have handsome hair and girls have pretty blond hair

     Me: So what if a girl has brown hair?

     N: (looking at me like I have half a brain) Then she's a boy 

Duh

5) N: (praying) Dear Jesus...please help Higgins to get better....

    Me: (interrupting) Is Higgins sick?? 

    N: Well...no.... it's just in case.

Divine Insurance

4) N: Wanna hear how I treat monsters? I put them in a baby chair and feed them YUCKY food.

Oh the cruel and unusual punishment! Musta learned from the best....

3) Me: Maybe when you get bigger, you can go hunting with daddy. What do you think you'll hunt?

    N: I will shoot corn......and grapes.... and pickles.... and other things for dinner

The World's first Vegetarian hunter

2) N: You're not my favorite.

    Me: Ok.....? Who is?

    N: Daddy. He's my favorite (naturally.....)

    Me: Geez kid....What do I have to do around here to be your favorite?

    N: Tickle me! ...... But NOT now! Don't tickle me now 

Oh well, it was worth a shot ;)

1) Me: Eat up your oatmeal! It'll fill up your belly so you won't be hungry anymore.

    N: And get all the wrinkles out!

    Me: Oatmeal gets wrinkles out?

    N: Yes, it gets the wrinkles out of my tummy! (Holding out tummy proudly) See? The wrinkles are gone!

Sign me up for some of that! Wonder if it works on necks too.....

It's just Coffee! I swear!

So as I'm sitting in the living room, sipping my coffee - which is dog-bone flavored (Thank you, Finny!) - and finishing up (more like sniffling up) the movie Up (that's a lot of Ups!) with the kids...who I'm just now noticing have snuck off to the play room, I decided to better channel my emotions into updating this blog, instead of crying, nay, weeping over fictional Disney characters by myself in my dark living room.

Yesterday, yes, the day of the Deluge, I had to drive Dinah to the vet to get her stitches removed. Thankfully, Noah was in school or this story would have probably had a few more unexpected twists. Now Dinah's vet is all the way in Coldspring, so we are talking about a 45 minute drive -one way - on a clear day, which it is not. Fun times. Needless to say, I have the DVD player going in the van to drown out the cat yowling the whole way. I'm sipping my first cup of coffee and sharing my apple with Finny.

Somehow, this is a little bit peaceful.

Until that last mouthful of coffee grabs remnant piece of apple off of my back molar and deposits it in my windpipe.

Sputter.

My new, shiny dashboard is covered in dripping, brown, peppermint flavored breakfast beverage. After choking and gasping for a few minutes, I manage to find a safe place to pull over and inspect the damage - which I am very thankful is easily removed by a plethora of wipes. But my pants are another story.

Always fun to spend your morning in wet pants.

There are lots of things that make me happy. Rainy days are one of them. But there are also a few things that make me miserable. Wet pants is very high on that list.

I grit my teeth and decide I'm NOT going to tell everyone I meet that it's just coffee. In fact, I'm not even going to mention it. And I don't. But I'm very grouchy. And my daily coffee quota is on my pants instead of buzzing through my happy little brain.

Dinah gets her stitches out, and no one brings up my obvious pants faux pas.

And as we are driving home, I look in the rear view and see this.

Suddenly, my wet pants don't seem like such a big deal.

Dog Tired (my cheesiest title yet!)

It's been a looooong night - and those of you who have seen my 5am FB post are way ahead of the game in knowing what THIS blog is about. But when you can't sleep.... eh.... may as well have something to show for it other than varying alternate popsicle recipes you've made up while staring at the ceiling and the eight different creative budget cuts you came up with at 3am .... (It's easier to get excited about making your own bread and laundry soaps.... and that new No-Poo hairwashing method - clean your hair for pennies, I tell ya! pennies!- when you're laying in bed.

On with the plot.
12:00am Cat with purple peg leg bandages gets mad that she can't get off the bed on her own and yowls until I help her into the bathroom - wait, she's hungry - wait, she just wants to yowl now to let me know how mad she is at me.

1am. Enter 1 sick dog. Bringing new meaning to sick as a dog. (Har-dee-har-har). He literally has to go out every 2 hours... I won't go into detail but let's just say I'm glad the grass is taking the beating and not my carpet. I can tell what he's doing even though I can't see him - because my other four senses prevent me from being blind to it. Blech. Definitely should have just tossed that leftover pot roast.

1:30am Cue crying baby.

3am. Somehow my dog is still sound asleep. But I'm not. Can't decide if it's my fear that Higgins will unleash on the carpet or my husband's loud snoring - which usually doesn't bother me... If I fall asleep before it commences.

4am. DH decides to wake me up - I am so foggy from just having fallen asleep, I can't even remember what he said or why. When your that tired, you can only think in emotions. Blind fury. Yup I blacked out after that.

5am. Husband leaps out of bed to dash off to work. I could make this a funny story, but it's still dark outside and my wit hasn't kicked in yet.

5:15am. Big Dog graduates to vomiting.

Now, my little dog will give you at least an 8-second 'hock' - giving me precious little- but doable - time to shove him out the door. I will spare you my top ten list of amazing things this dog's stomach has rejected, but not without saying I have literally seen this dog puke an entire turd. It was completely recognizable and yeah, cleaning up turd-smelling puke is definitely up there with one of the worst things I've ever had to clean up. So you can understand my desperation to keep him from puking on the carpet.

No such luck with Big Dog. He is an efficient hock-er. And it stains.

Thankfully, while I'm staring stupified at the carpet I so desperately tried to protect, he gives me another few warning hocks and I manage to sprint, herding him out the door, onto the lawn - with only one thing in mind: Making it to a surface I don't have to clean up. Now instead of completing his delegated task, he dashes off into the night. Yeah, leashing him had been the furthest thing from my mind 3.5 seconds ago... but now my sleepy brain surfaces with that genius idea. Way to go brain. Where have you been? You're late!

It's 5:30am. It's dark. I'm barefooted. And I'm in a nighty I wouldn't want my dad to see me in. We live in a retirement community neighborhood. Our neighbors have been up for an hour at least.  With no other choice, I head inside to get my robe, the lysol, and the carpet cleaner, propping the door open on the wild hair that he will find his way back.

Murphy is on my side tonight, because he is back in his bed before I'm even on my knees over the first pile of dog bile. It's nice when at least one thing goes right. BooBoo and I were trying to get our stories straight for what to tell the kids. So far, carried off by a vomit-hungry chicken hawk seemed to be the winner.

So while everything is finally quiet in the house  (and on facebook....and on pinterest...and on Words with Friends), my brain is not.

Thank God my one useful purchase yesterday was coffee.Of course, Higgins will be able to sleep all day to recover from his night of adventure. So at least I won't have to share my coffee with him.

Please enjoy this picture of my cat. Yes, isn't she cute? Not so cute meowing in the middle of the night. But at least she didn't puke a turd.


Amendment:
Decided to go ahead and remove the bandages (since it's finally Saturday morning) on Dinah, and I should have let her get that last bit of gauze herself. Instead, I'm cleaning cat blood out of my sheets. And while I was finishing that, Noah just walked in to inform me that he woke up because he pooped in his sleep. "But it's ok, Mom. I cleaned it up." Yikes. Good thing my other useful purchase yesterday was more bleach.