Funnies…

Today is Blog Schmog Funnies because I don’t have the energy or time for brilliance. Or maybe because my kiddo’s are so dog gone fun!

♥ Peewee is scrubbing everything she can reach in the kitchen with a wet dish towel singing, “Ju-ah (her name for Loud) has tinky (stinky) butt, Ju-ah has tinky butt….”

♥ A friend of mine brought us dinner one night and as we were eating her soup Loud said, “That girl who brought us dinner is a good girl! But, I don’t like those things shaped like rainbows.”

I guess he doesn’t like celery. 🙂 That might be my fault but shhh.

♥ Loud Kiddington – “I don’t like that kid at kids church.”

Me – “That’s not nice son,” but he is crying so I persist, “why do you say that?”

Loud – “He pinches my cheeks and says I’m cute!”

Pregnancy, my two youngest boys’ perspectives

Oh the things my kids come up with.

I get a good hearty laugh at least every day. Loud is a great story teller and I’m still working on him to complete such tall tales with the phrase “And that’s just a story.”

I was slouching on the couch, letting it all hang out (just meaning I wasn’t holding in my pregnant tummy) and 3yr old Loud pointed to my bump, “Mom is that where you keep your baby?”

“Yes, it sure is.”

He then appeared to inspect it and other areas of my shirt before pointing to my chest, which pre-baby is usually quite flat. Guess you could call it a perk of pregnancy because I’ve already grown a cup size. Thank goodness I’m out of training bras now. Any hooooo, back to Loud. 

“Mom.” He raised his eyebrows, “You’ve got two babies.”

“No she doesn’t.” Scarfunkle sat up straight on the couch.

“No I DON’T!” I got a little worried but then saw where he was pointing. A baby for each bump huh?

Scarfunkle decided it was his turn to interrogate me. ” Mom, why do I always want to ask where the baby comes out?”

Oh dear! I remained calm and tried to recall my pre planned response for the dreaded question. A wise mom once helped me map out some of the worst possible kid questions.

“Well, Scarfunkle, the baby comes out the birth canal.” I sat as nonchalant as possible, secretly crossing my fingers.

“Yeah but nowhere seems big enough.”

“You are right,” I sighed, “nowhere does seem big enough, its hard work but that’s how God made it.”

Would you believe it? He didn’t press me for more and though Loud is convinced he is getting a girl AND a boy baby there was no harm done. 🙂

The funny things kids say.

Today I had a little help during lunch prep. Loud Kiddington was observing my every move so I asked, “Are you gonna be a chef when you grow up?”

His eyes got wide. “No. I don’t want to be a mouse.”

A mouse? What in the world?

I didn’t get it but then I remembered Ratatouille Rat! Ha!

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My littlest boy sings opera.

Check out my little Pavarotti. Yes, he dressed himself for the “concert”.

Loud Kiddington sings Jesus Loves Me opera style.

http://www.myfamily.com/share?s=PJYPWDjoCrTlylVH5nVj5Q

Legend of the Three Trees

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Some of you were wondering what this mosaic on my kitchen floor is all about.

The Legend of the Three Trees is a folklore story of unknown origin. My favorite picture book version is HERE.

The story is retold by Angela Elwell Hunt and beautifully illustrated by Tim Jonke. It is a Christmas classic but we keep it out year round.

Below is Thing One’s retelling of the legend un-edited.

A long time ago there was three trees. The first tree wanted to be a treasure chest and hold the greatest treasure. The second tree wanted to be a ship and made for just kings. And the third tree wanted to stay on the top of the hill and point up to God.

Many years had passed by. Then after a few days three woodcutters came and the first woodcutter cut down the first little tree. The second woodcutter cut down the second tree. The thrid woodcutter said, “I will cut down whatever tree I want to. This is the one I’m going to cut.”

The first tree got tooken to a carpenter. The carpenter turned the tree into a manger for animals to eat out of.

The second tree was tooken to a ship yard and no big ships were getting made that day. Instead tiny fishing boats. Every day he brought in loads of dead smelly fish across the lake.

The third tree was confused when she got cut into straight square logs. She stayed there for a very long time. Then she got carried by a man and she felt ugly when they nailed his  hands to her.

The first tree got to be a manger and hold the greatest treasure of all. That was Jesus.

The second tree got to be a sailboat and hold the greatest king of all that was powerful. He got to see Jesus stop the storm when he woke up.

The third tree got to be carried by Jesus and forever remind people of God. That was better than staying on the mountain.

THE END

Thanks Toby Mac – From the Mouth of Babes

The funny things kids say, motherhood, humor, short story, boys will be boys.

Thanks to Toby Mac my oldest is now thinking of changing his look! 

I never knew he thougth of such things.  Sometimes, if I don’t catch it he even sleeps in his jeans. YIKES!  So when he got back from the Winter Wonderslam Tour this week with Dad and Thing Two I was surprised to hear his take on the concert.

“I loved it Mom and Toby Maxx (they have a cousin Maxx) did not look like I thought.”

“Oh yea?”

“Yeah mom, he had ORANGE hair!”  Thanks Toby!!!  “And Mom, I thought he was going to be American!”

“He wasn’t American?”  I know what Toby looks like but where is he going with this?

“Well, he was all black” 

YIKES!  My heart lept into my throat! am I raising a culturally insensitive son?

“You know, like he had a black shirt thing like my cousins wear to church and black pants.  He was— well —a gentleman!” 

WHEW!!  My heart quit surging out of my chest.  I get it, a black outfit.

“So why wasn’t he American?”

“Well, what I mean is he was like… Californian or from Seattle I think.”

“Really, how do you know?”

“Well, he didn’t dress like us.  He dressed— nice, like I said.”

“Oh, I see.  How do ‘American’s’ dress?’

“I guess not American, I mean Idaho.”  He looks down at his jeans and t-shirt.  “Like this.”

I get where he is going with it.  As long as he doesn’t start begging me to dye his hair orange anytime soon I can handle the “Californian”  attire.