Oh, not the greatest, surely. I thought DaddyTimesTwo’s thread about noises that get parents moving fastest was a good way to make anyone enter a monastery or a convent, or just swear celibacy.
This one’s just about saying the same thing over and over. And over and over and over and over…
When I was three I fell off the curb while on my bicycle, and smacked my face into the top edge of a metal garbage can. I’ve still got a faint scar.
Rue, do your kids know “The Song That Never Ends”? It’s an important part of family-vacation-togetherness. I don’t think I got to sing it on car trips when I was a kid, so I’m encouraging it in other people’s children.
One friend of mine went to the Museum of Oil Refinery on a family vacation. Another got to go to the Museum of Granite. There’s a postage museum in Ottawa. I think a prefect family vacation would include all of those, plus stopping at every single historical plaque on the way.
Doesn’t anybody care about my trip to New York? I can pretend to have a family if that makes it more interesting. Where do you go with an 8 year old in New York? How about a 13 year old who doesn’t mind being seen with her family, but likes a little distance? And the treat for the almost 18 year old daughter–a chance to be treated as an adult (night out with parents while little kids get babysat)? Huh? Huh? This is my family, be excited about our New York trip, okay?
Heh. I haven’t taught that one to the kids, but I teach them other things. “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” is popular, as is “Three Sailors Went To Sea Sea Sea.” I rattle off tongue-twister limericks at them. When they’re singing tonelessly along with a song, I’ll help them with the words they don’t understand (as long as they’re not related to humpin’).
That last, by the way, is a big step for me. (Not the part about humpin’.) When I was a snotty high school choir student, I visibly twitched when people sang off-key along with the radio in the car. Now I let the kids honk away in whatever key they like.
Frankie sings constantly. I’m not exaggerating. She makes up songs about whatever she’s playing with and sings to them. Sometimes she’ll put in this really exaggerated vibrato which is really WAY more vib than rato. When the other kids tell her to stop it, I tell them to shove it. Well, not really. I tell them that in my mind. What I say is, “Your sister can sing all she wants. So can you.” Ah ha, but they almost never want to, so it works out nicely.
Earlier today, Gundy and I determined that a good parent has to be an asshole sometimes. Make of that what you will.
I got sick and tired of saying the same phrases to my children to get their buttocks to the school bus stop on time. Genius that I am (curtsy, curtsy), I recorded the following wav files and have Outlook play them at recurring intervals M-F from 5-6:15 am
AdoptaBoy - Sit up and put your feet on the floor - awake is not up!
AdoptaGirl - Stop chewing with your mouth open
Would someone please put the milk back in the refrigerator?
The animals are hungry, too. Feed and water the cats and dogs before leaving for school.
Brush your teeth
AdoptaBoy - have you taken your meds yet?
The bus will be here in 10 minutes
The bus will be here in 5 minutes
The bus will be here in 1 minute!!!
The bus passed and now you must beg me to bring you to school. My fee is 1 hour of extra chores this afternoon.
No more screaming and screaching for me every morning, I let the computer do it Works like a charm
AdoptaGirl - hair requires a brush at least once a day - make it before you go to school, k?
This conversation has happened every day this winter.
Me: Are you ready to go?
Daughter: Yup.
Me: Have you looked outside today?
Daughter: Yes.
Me: And??
Daughter: It’s raining.
Me: And??
Daughter: And what?
Me: And… where is your coat?
Of course, we did have a few days of this conversation…
Me: Are you ready to go?
Daughter: Yup.
Me: Have you looked outside today?
Daughter: Yes.
Me: And??
Daughter: It’s snowing.
Me: And??
Daughter: And what?
Me: And… where is your coat?
Sometimes there is a variation
Me: Are you ready to go?
Daughter: Yup.
Me: Have you looked outside today?
Daughter: Yes.
Me: And??
Daughter: It’s raining.
Me: And??
Daughter: And what?
Me: And… why are you wearing sandles but NOT a coat?
I don’t even know “The Song That Never Ends”! I’m such a baaaaad parent! But we do have “The Song We Made Up Ourselves”. That’s a good one.
(to the tune (roughly) of “The Wheels on the Bus”)
Ooohhhhhhhhhhhh (not part of the song, but a good way to begin it giving everyone some warning) …
Once upon a time there was a (name of animal)
Was a (name of animal)
Was a (name of animal)
Once upon a time there was a (name of animal)
And it ate (whatever you want it to eat) (if a six year old boy is singing it, it’s usually “poop”) (you’d be surprised how many animals just thrive on “poop”) (unless you have a six year old boy)
And you keep on singing it until you run out of animals. Or get tired of hearing them eatting “poop”.
My favorite verse goes:
Once upon a time there was a crocodile,
Was a crocodile,
Was a crocodile.
Once upon a time there was a crocodile,
And it ate Steve Irwin!
I want to go to the Spam Museum in Austin, MN. But I’ve been told it’s not Fun For the Whole Family. Shows what I know.
Ya know, reading this MMP makes me even more grateful I am a boy who likes boys.
The only thing I yell at is the weeds to tell them to stop growing. They don’t listen.
Good morning everyone. Sorry I missed you yesterday, but I was flying on what seemed like the world’s longest flight, from Atlanta to Denver. Now I’m a person who’s flown all over the world, many trips between USA and Asia, South America and Europe, even the occasional direct flight between Europe and Asia. So I know from long flights, and am aware that, technically, Atlanta to Denver is a piece of cake. Unless you got on the flight with almost no sleep because the flight from Tampa to Atlanta left at 5 in the morning, so you didn’t go to bed but just stayed up and worked the night before. Then you get on the Atlanta flight, plop into seat 40G, and then a nice but VERY LARGE man sits down right next to you in seat 40F. It’s a bit cool in the plane and you didn’t take off your coat which is too warm for inside a plane, but your short sleeved Florida shirt is too cool and you know you’ll want to sleep nice and snug as soon as the plane takes off. Which is due in 10 minutes but now people keep jamming themselves on the plane and look all of the seats are taken and now finally it’s departure time but the captain (or someone who sounds like a captain) comes on and tells us that they have the maintenance crew working on a little problem, not to worry, it will only be 10-15 minutes and it’s something with the ramp. Fair enough but now I’m starting to wonder am I claustrophobic and this guy has got my arms pinned next to my body (and not in a loving considerate way, which might appeal to certain MMPers that I’m not going to call out here). So I’m dead tired, I can’t even properly slouch or list to the right, just my freakishly long neck bows over and my head makes contact with the cold hard plastic of the window. All of the fresh air is stuck in the gravity well of the friendly behemoth next to me. So I try and sleep but it really doesn’t work for me and I look out the window at what has got to be the most boring landscape in the USA (sorry to anyone here who loves Kansas or Oklahoma or eastern Colorado or whatever it is we were flying over, but there are no trees or rocks or remarkable buildings, just squares and circles and the occasional rhombus of farm land below).
::stops to breath::
So, Denver is nice, the weather is beautiful, the people are friendly (if a bit slow moving) and they don’t seem to be able to afford clouds here. I’m guessing it will snow tomorrow but today is good and yesterday was very nice.
Oh, and in case Kallessa is still reading I’ll see if I can clear my calendar for a weekend romp in NYC with you if you’re still interested. Or just a hug if that works better for you. I’m not adding anything on the kids front right now, mine really don’t cause too many problems and never harass animals, so I guess that’s something to be thankful for.
“Stop hitting your brother”
“Quit jumping on the furniture”
“PUT THAT DOWN!”
Oh, the repetition - part of the problem with my own kids is that they are so inquisitive that they often just let everything I say wash over them without taking any of it in.
One technique I’ve found particularly useful:
**Mangetout: **Don’t jump on the furniture AND ALSO… <pause> DO NOT jump on the furniture
**Sprog: **Dad! You said that twice!
**Mangetout: **Said what twice?
**Sprog: **You said “Don’t jump on the furniture AND ALSO DO NOT jump on the furniture”
**Mangetout: **Good, you heard it then.
Last night Rez Jr. was in bed and soon-to-be step-dad was getting him a drink and making a show of some little hop, skip and jump to his bed with his drink. Rez Jr. issued a very stern warning of “Do *NOT * run inside.”
He probably went to daycare today and is sitting around right now bitching about how he always has to tell his mom and his J (the soon-to-be step-dad) to stop running in the house, and will they *ever * listen?
I’m also kind of wondering how long it will take before “Hang your coat up in the closet” stops being misheard as “Chuck your coat anywhere you want, I don’t mind.”
And when “We’re having ______” for dinner stops being heard as “Please immediately complain about ______ food.”
Oh yeah, and when “Pick up your stuff from the living room” doesn’t sound, to them, like “…”
As long as they never accurately hear “sweetheart” as “you little SHIT!”* I think we’re going to be fine.
“I asked you to do that half an hour ago, SWEETHEART.”
“Stop antagonizing your brother, SWEETHEART.”
“I’ve told you NOT to jump on the couch, SWEETHEART.”
A Rob Roy or a Seabreeze? You wouldn’t want to give him beer 'cause then he’d be up having to “go” all night. And I think a Rusty Nail is a little sophisticated for the Little Rez. (But that’s just me. I’m not going to second-guess your parenting.)
So far we’ve only had Suspicious Lack Of Noise once today. That’s great.
We’ve had Get Your Head Out Of That Plastic Bag five times, and I’m Not Going To Feed You twelve times. We’ve also played The Litter Game, where they try to help me with the litterbox. This is accomplished by using the litterbox because I’m trying to clean it.
A good friend of mine has just registered here, and she emailed me this thread, asking if I was Lissla Lissar. So she’s probably reading this right now. So I want her to post, and I want all of you nice MMPers to welcome her. She very rarely bites. Sparky, get in here!
Thanks, ShibbOleth, I was beginning to think I was posting in an invisible font!
I didn’t have to yell at anyone this morning, because I had done the dishes before I went to bed. I hate it when I get up and the dishes aren’t done–and let me tell you, I hear about it! I can yell at myself all morning, but it just seems to go in one ear and out the other. I’d think I was going deaf but I just had a hearing test last month.
I had the hearing test at a local Health Fair. Aren’t they the greatest things? I got a hearing test, a blood pressure test (with a new kind of thingymajig, no cuff around the arm) a dermatologist told me I was too young for age spots, I was taught how to use accupressure to get rid of a headache, and an herbalist told me to take flaxseed oil for my joints. And an insurance company gave me a little ball that I can squeeze to relieve stress. I’ve found that it works better if I throw it at the person who is causing me stress.
Ol’ Sparky better show up and say something. Man! I hate it when people just read along and don’t say anything. You think these things are Entertainment? No way! It’s Performance Art.
And I guess this week it’s OK if she bites, considering the topic. Just as long as she doesn’t break the skin.
Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything, not being Sparky and all, and since I seem to be some sort of weird Thread Killer Of Doom ™ to MPSIMS threads, but Rue said we weren’t allowed to just read along, so here goes.
Favorite traveling game on family trips in my family was “Not Touching You”, wherein YoungestSib would poke MiddleSib until MiddleSib said “Mom! Make him stop touching me!” Mom would say, “stop touching your brother”. YoungestSib would stop for approximately three nanoseconds, then get his finger this close |<>| to MiddleSib’s face and whisper “Not touching yooooouuuuuu…not touching youuuuuuu…” until MiddleSib would say “MOM! Tell him to stop NOT TOUCHING ME!!!” After the laughter from Mom stopped, she’d tell YoungestSib to quit bothering MiddleSib.
Eventually YoungestSib would do something that would get him punched, and he’d say “MOM! He hit me!” And mom would reply “It’s probably for something I didn’t catch you doing. Behave and it won’t happen.”
I have no children, so I’ve been doing my best to tell all the kids I know about the Not Touching You game.
Um. Repetition with kids. Don’t know about that, not having any and all, but I do seem to remember large amounts of hearing people HATING a particular food and why can’t we have <otherfood> instead? Yet when <otherfood> was served the next night (I’m sure you see where this is going) they’d HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT it’s the yuckiest thing EVER and why can’t we have <yet something else>.
Does the whole “didn’t hear that” just mature as we get older? Because I swear DogDad has perfected the whole “tune out <wife’s voice> frequencies” thing.
-DogMom, seeing if Rue’s MMP is sturdy enough to survive a Thread Killer. And if not, I do apologize and I promise I’ll just read along from now on…
Hmmmmmmmm… now I wonder just *who[/] Shibb might be talkin’ about. Anybody got any clues? :dubious:
Speaking of the world’s longest flight, the other world’s longest flight is from Detroit to Salt Lake City. I know cause I did that last Friday. Then from Salt Lake City to Tucson I was on an itty bitty plane. Bet ya didn’t know that to get to Tucson from Detroit you have to go to Salt Lake City first. It’s true.
And speaking of big (i.e. burly) men, I met one this weekend in Tucson. See, I was there for some training, but Saturday night I went out to this establishment that sells alcoholic beverages for consumption on site. That’s where I met said burly man. Yes, it was one of those kind of places. Anyway, he wanted (and heck I wanted him to) to pin my arms next to my body in a loving considerate way but I had to be back in training the next morning so, alas, I had to decline, dangit. Oh well, maybe I can do some more bidness in Tucson real soon.
-swampbear (with unpinned arms)
Works like a charm 