2fer

The nice thing about being poor is that when your kids receive any present, lame or wonderful they are super grateful. I shouldn't say we are poor but after the bills are paid not much more is left over for anything besides groceries. Birthdays and Christmas are super exciting for my boys because they know that they will get presents.

My favorite memory from this Christmas was how super excited they were opening presents early Christmas morning. Every time they opened up a present, even if the present was not on their wish list they would exclaim, "THIS IS WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED!" It warmed my heart and filled our morning with much joy. If there were rewards given for the best gift receivers of Christmas 2013 I'm sure my boys would win or at the very least be nominated.
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Surprise! This blog post is a 2fer. Two blog post for the price of one.

My six-year-old LOVES movies. He loves watching them and wants to know everything he can about his favorite movie. For any movie he's watched or has seen a movie poster or a DVD case he can name the production company of that movie. As I type this sentence I shout across the room, "Hey Ollie who produced the movie, Indiana Jones?" in which he responds in a matter of seconds, "Paramount and Lucas Film ltd."

Ollie LOVES to draw and is always drawing. Always drawing. One of his favorite things to draw are movie posters for movies he's made. We have gone through so many reams of white printer paper that I have a hard time knowing what to do with all the stacks of paper. I find pencil drawings on white paper all around the house. I've just started collecting them in brown paper bags and storing them in the garage and on occasion when the boys aren't looking I have tossed the papers in the recycling bin.

I was going through Ollie's drawings this morning and I found this one. A small movie poster for a movie he created called, "Eating so much Ketchup and Mustard 2." Reading this made me laugh out loud as well as swell with pride. Why I laughed I don't think needs much explanation but the pride came because my homeschooled first grader spelled the word ketchup correctly.

the throw up bucket

If you have kids maybe you can relate to this. Like most parents I hate it when my kids get sick. It's the worst feeling not to be able to do anything to really make your kid better. We treat the symptoms as best we can but really it's just a waiting game until the bug has passed through their system.

The worst kind of sick is the throw up kinda sick. If you didn't know already vomit is gross. I'm no doctor but I'm pretty sure it's just like a VitaMix pulverized your food and just for good measure  added some stomach acid. As a parent you feel horrible that your child is feeling so bad and then at the same time you are slightly mad that you have to clean up stomach smoothie out of the carpet, car seat and change and wash sheets about 40 times. And the feelings of sadness mixed with madness usually lead to feeling guilty.

So when my kids are sick, the throw up kind of sick, from the back of the pantry comes the throw up bucket. From the first time of vomit to the last I make sure the bucket is near. And any sign of potential vomit I ask, "Do you need to throw up?" They make any weird sound and I spring up and run to them with the bucket in hand just in case vomit time is here.

Writing this blog is kind of like the vomit bucket. Since deciding to document all the funny stuff my kids do and say I have found myself full of anxiety. But instead of a bucket I have to make sure a pen and paper are near. I'm waiting on their every word to see if what they are saying could be blog worthy.

This morning the three-year-old said something super funny it was something about a duck. However I was busy getting ready for church and didn't write it down. So in the car I asked, "Hey three-year-old remember that funny thing you said about a duck?" He responded with, "Uh huh." "Do you remember exactly what you said?" To which he said, "I don't know."

Hopefully next time the bucket I mean pen and paper will be near.

adult food

I love Trader Joe's. The food is yummy, well priced and I'm always making a new BFF with the cashiers and we talk about our mutual appreciation for hummus. What I love more than Trader Joe's is Christmas time Trader Joe's. The time of the year when the special treats come and stay only for the holiday season. The peppermint Joe Joe's (TJ's version of Oreos), gingerbread cookies, peppermint green tea and my favorite, pretzel slims covered in a thin layer of white chocolate sprinkled with crushed candy canes.

I bought a bag of the Christmas pretzel thins on a trip to TJ's and was planning on hiding and then eating them when the pint sized humans were tucked in their beds that night. However the three-year old spotted the sweet treats on the kitchen counter and asked if he could try them. Without much thought I replied, "No, that is adult food and if you eat it you will turn into an adult."

As mentioned previously my three-year-old has a great sense of humor and from and early age he has never taken me very seriously. My six-year-old on the other hand takes me very seriously he has a great sense of humor and loves to laugh but he is also very cut and dry and his world is very black and white. My kidding nature doesn't fair so well with the six-year-old and I've been told on many occasions to, "STOP JOKING AROUND!"

My three-year-old was not buying my ban on the adult food and his very persistent begging and pleading finally wore me down. So I handed him a delightful pretzel slim and before the treat could reach his small fingers my six-year-old wraps his arms around his brother and tackled him to the floor   screaming, "Don't eat that you'll turn into and ADULT!" Tears were streaming down the six-year-olds cheeks as he really thought he was loosing his brother to adulthood. Through the commotion the three-year-old managed to eat the forbidden treat. Which sent the six-year-old into complete melt down. Feeling like a horrible mother I consoled my six-year-old and made sure he knew I was only joking and that no food could turn a child into an adult.

The tears stopped and I thought all was well on Smallwood Lane until minutes later I heard the six-year-old ask his brother, "Hey say something," making sure his brother's voice had not gained a deep vibrato. Several more times that evening I heard the six-year-old ask his brother to say something. It wasn't till later that evening when the six-year-old asked to eat a pretzel slim himself that I truly knew everything was right in the world once more.

tim

Our boys like me and my husband. I can say this with great confidence because every night as I close my eyes I am most certain there are only two bodies in our bed. Yet without fail when I open my eyes  in the morning sunlit bedroom there are three or four bodies in my bed and usually the pint sized humans will have their feet with dirty toes inches from my head. I'm glad I'm so well liked but it would be nice to say good morning to my children as I pass by them in the hallway out to the kitchen  drink my first cup of coffee.

About a month ago my three-year-old very early in the morning wakes up my husband and very matter of fact states, "Tim has a fingernail!" And logically the first question my husband asks is, "Who is Tim?" My three-year-old gave a look that said, "Are you seriously asking me that question?" And then held up his pointer finger and stated, "MY FINGER."

My three-year-old has now named the pointer finger on his opposite hand Minnen. Daily I will hear of how his fingers are doing and the adventures they go on together. But I'd have to say being inside of my three-year-olds nostrils is one their favorite past time.

Raisins are one of the very few foods my three-year-old does not like. He asks often, "Are there raisins in that?" "No buddy there are no raisins in your slice of pizza." Although one morning I did hand him a granola bar and he asked his famous question and I might of lied a bit and said, "No." There were only pieces of died apricot which there were along side the chopped up pieces of raisins. A few minutes later my three-year-old hands back the granola bar and says, "Mama I really like this granola bar but Tim and Minnen do not they say it's too sticky and is sticking to them too much."

let me introduce my blog

I have funny kids. And I have one kid in particular who is not just funny He. Is. Hilarious. I don't think there is one day that has goes by where I haven't laughed at something he has said or done. I like to share my tales with anyone who will listen because I like to make people laugh and it's nice not having to come up with my own material.

Many times after I tell my tales the receiver of the great humor will say, "You have got to write this down!"

It has take me a while to start this blog. I've thought about it for quite sometime but there were two main reason I have put it off.

1. I couldn't think of a name for my blog.
2. What if I started to write stuff down and the humor ended.

I have sat down in front of the computer so many times but have left with no blog on the inter web because I couldn't think what to name it. So I did that smart thing and asked the most cleaver man I know, my husband for a title. Seconds after I asked he responded, "Tales from (the current street we live on)!" It was brilliant with one small problem, I was worried that it would be too easy for people from the inter web to hunt us down and kill us in our sleep. So I changed it to Smallwood Lane a street we lived on when we first started our small family.

After sharing my tales with others I have often said, "Either my son is going to grow up to be hilarious or a total odd ball." Right now the outcome is about 50/50. And right now I'm pretty certain that the humor won't end until then I'll try my best to write this stuff down.