Someone, to my annoyance, taught my 2.5 y/o the word and concept of ‘dessert.’ Actually, now that I’m typing it, I realized how pissy it makes me. Maybe this belongs in minirants.
Anyway, so now everytime we sit down for dinner, he takes about a half a bite and asks for dessert.
Almost 14 yo boy. Has focus issues; eats like Jethro, yet is blessed with a Michael Phelps body; doesn’t apply himself on Swim Team, though. Very sloppy and sleeps late.
Pluses: he’s a drummer; is playing in the 1st band in HS (frosh this fall) as well as drum line. Also plays piano and has done some local theater. He’s a tall, blonde drummer with umpteen bajillion cute girls as Facebook friends, but couldn’t be less clueless about that.
10 yo boy: Minecraft is his heroin. He’d spend 16 hrs a day on it if allowed. Doesn’t do any sports, even though he doesn’t suck at it. Eats no meat, little protein, fruit ok, but vegs are a fight. Stubborn and monosyllabic unless engaged otherwise.
Pluses: He’s freaking brilliant (I know lots of people think that of their child, but this one is the genuine article) He has focus out the wazoo.
7 yo daughter: She can be a drama queen and has focus issues. Nothing major yet, but there’s still time…
Pluses: Very outgoing and funny, good at sports when she wants to be; popular with her classmates. She’s very sweet and will pick my nursing home, probably (middle kid will pay and oldest will take care of us between gigs/pizza delivery rounds).
These just make me smile and smile. I don’t even have kids and I’ve been amazed at what has come out of my mouth sometimes around them.
My very favourite thing of all time that I heard my husband say in response to our (then) two-year-old: “No! Worms don’t have nipples!”
My husband came downstairs about a month ago after putting the boys to bed, and said that the Enderman had been sitting in the bathtub, on the drain hole, with one hand up his backside and the other flipping his penis up and down, crying for Mommy, because Daddy was making him get out of the bath and go to bed.
Mr. Lissar said: “We don’t have to worry about screwing up our kids. They were born screwed up.”
Does anyone else know The Father’s Lament? It’s incredibly funny. "
17 year old, very into video games.
He will corner me and describe (down to the tiniest detail) every character in the game, every facial expression, what color they wear, what their costume looks like, what their powers are, every weapon, power, strategy, how the game was developed, who developed it, how long it took, how it contrasts and compares to other games, what everyone on youtube is saying about it, why he agrees or disagrees with the comments on youtube, what level he is, how long it took to get there, how his strategy worked or didn’t, how the characters are based on the zodiac or this or that pantheon and do I think the characters are accurate representations, and copyright laws and how they affect youtube and do I think it’s fair or not and why hr does or doesn’t agree,
until my eyes are glazing over and I’m hoping someone will just put a bullet in my brain and end my misery.
Did I mention the quiz afterwards?
At least he puts the same amount of time and energy into school work, I get to hear all about that too. Especially history, which I should know already because I was there.
Gnat’s a Minecraft addict. He’s four and can spend at least three hours playing it, at a stretch, if allowed. It’s maddening. He’s only allowed to play on weekends and he wakes up every day asking if it’s a weekend.
My 18 year old sister wants a car but doesn’t want to look into how expensive it would be. Myself and the rest of the family are willing to buy her a car but can’t afford the gas and insurance and repairs, and she will be in college. If it will end up making her work 15 hours a week just for gas and insurance we might not want to buy her one because it would interfere with her studies.
I currently have three half drank soda cans sitting in my house and a fourth one sitting in my son’s hand. :smack:
Yesterday my son grabs an unopened bag of chips from the pantry. He opens it then strolls into the living room and asks me: “Hey Dad, can I have some of these or are they for work?”
“Uh… well, I guess since you opened it, knock yourself out.” He knew that bag of chips was meant for work!
Oh, my lamb. I am helplessly weeping with laughter here.
:D:p
Brilliant!
Glad to improve a few other parent’s lives! Mr. Lissar and I reread it every six months or so and always end in tears of laughter.
Today- why does the highly articulate four-year-old revert to baby talk with an irritating voice six or seven times an hour? Why?
Not my kid, but my 8 year old niece. I now call her “Miss Literal.”
“We have to be there in 20 minutes.”
“No, it’s actually 1:39. We have to be there in 21 minutes.”
“Eat your vegetables.”
“A tomato is not a vegetable.”
“Hey, your shirt is really cute.”
“It’s a blouse!”
You get the idea.
I secretly love it and always kid her, but don’t ever tell her that!
My kids drive me crazy whey they expect me to be an indentured servant, which is something they’ve learned from the latest batch of parents who act like that.
That lament is a thing of absolute beauty.
My kid has spent this entire week with her whole hand shoved into her mouth. That’s fine, except that then her hand is covered in spit and then she grabs something else and it’s covered in spit and she grabs me and I’m covered in spit and everything in the world is covered in spit. Normally, if I tell her not to do something she knocks it off, but not with this.
She’s not teething or anything, she’s got all her teeth, so I don’t know what this is about. I asked her and she said, ‘Just because.’
Thought of something on my way home. My children - both of them - come with their own personal sound track. And it NEVER stops.
I took my son and daughter to an outdoor Shakespeare Festival this evening. We didn’t stay for the whole thing (they were starting to get tired), so I loaded them into the car before things could get critical and started driving, thinking that once they stopped moving, they would fall asleep. Oh, my God - the two never, ever stopped making noise.
Concurrently, it was:
My daughter - “MommyMommyMommyMommy…Where’s the park? What’s that? Did we just go to the zoo? No? That makes me sad. MommyMommyMommyMommy,” and so on.
My son - “Look, Mom! I can make a trumpet! Dah, dah, dah, lah, lah, LAH!! Listen! Mom! Listen!” and so on as well.
And they never stop moving. I was sitting at dinner with my husband one day and the kids had opted to sit across from us. Suddenly I realized what was making me so tired. They are NEVER still. Heads, arms, legs, always going, going, going, then the soundtrack. Gah.
Oh god - the one I spoke of before that wants to talk all the live long day - he does that. Sometimes I swear that if I hear the phrase “well actually…” just one more time I may snap.
Penis penis penis. I have a penis. Daddy has a penis. Linus has a penis. Zac has a penis. Pap has a penis. Mommy’s penis fell off.
:eek:
No it did not.
Kiddo is 4.
Penis.
This. Oh my WORD, this. My 8 yo son is this bright and affectionate and infinitely curious kid. I feel like I pour information into him and he consumes it faster than I can refill him. When he is being sweet, there is no child more delightful.
But he apparently thinks of himself as the only person who has ever known anything, ever. Is under the impression that he just has full right to question or complain about all actions, instructions, and directives that are issued or taken by me. He actually kind of talks to me like Napoleon Dynamite talks. “Can you put your shoes away?” “I’m going, Mom, GOSH!”
Also there is the whining. Which he is obviously far too old for. Sigh.
Seperately, my kids are not driving me too crazy. However, together, they bicker. Constantly.
You can actually tell THE MOMENT they are in the same room together. A sample (note this could be about anything up to and including who got more juice for supper or if a gummy bear is candy.)
N: Hey, that’s mine.
<begin loop>
<exit when Mom tells you to knock it off>
S: No, it’s not.
N: Yes, it is. GIVE IT TO ME.
S: No.
N: <whining>Yeeessss.
S: <mocking>Nooooooo.
N: I’m telling.
S: Whatever.
N: You’re going to get in trouble.
S: No, I won’t.
N: Yes, you will.
S: No, I won’t.
N: <whining> But it’s miiiinnne!!!
<end loop>
S: No, it’s not.
We were giving out cheer stix at an event recently to kids. A pair of brothers took a pair each and didn’t make it three steps away from the table before they were hitting each other on the head with them. 