Whatcha reading, G?

Math teacher: "The first three books I took away from him today were, you know, regular G books. (Snort-laughing) The fourth though..."

G laughed. I laughed. School counselor laughed. Jason did not.

(It's okay, Jason, I think you had to be there.)

Dads on Grade Level

Today, sitting at middle school reception. A random dad walks in.

"Hi! I need to drop these shoes off for my daughter."
"Sure! What grade is she in?"
"Uhhh...I don't know. Seventh?"
"Seventh grade is at lunch right now, but we can get them to her after. Her name, sir?"
(Name.)
(Computer check.)
"So she's at lunch now, but she'll get them after?"
"Actually, sir, your daughter is in 8th grade, so I'll have someone take them to her now."

My kid's Dad last fall at elementary school pick-up:

"Hi, I can't find my daughter."
"What grade is she in?"
"Uhh...first? Second? Not Kindergarten."
"Do you know who her teacher is?"
"Uhh...no..."
"Do you know where she usually gets picked up?"
"In the pick-up line."
"We have two pick-up lines."
?!
"What's your daughter's name?"
"Olive."
"Oh, Olive! She's in my class! Hi, I'm Mrs. (Your Kid's Second Grade Teacher)!"
Mortified.
"Oh, don't feel bad! My husband wouldn't have known either! He's an engineer."
"I'm an engineer! I'm an engineer!"

Not Happy

On Sunday I caught one of the kids with a Sharpie drawing happy faces on his siblings. I was all Wft? Gimme the goddamn pen right now! and he was all I am so clever and uproariously funny! It wasn't until later that we realized he had first gone around the house and drawn nickel and dime sized happy faces ALL OVER EVERYTHING. IN SHARPIE.

Kitchen counters, kitchen cabinets, kitchen faucet, stainless steel appliances, white appliances, kitchen floor, his wooden furniture, our wooden furniture, plantation shutters, windows, picture frames, door frames, painted walls, mirrors, bathroom counters, bathroom sinks, bathroom floors, tub, toilet, his brothers beloved stuffed animal's face, his brother's favorite toys, his brother's favorite possessions, I am going to stop now because like HUNDREDS OF THINGS and I think you get the point.

Also, it was not the four year old.

Jason and my dad were more resigned and less suprised than I was. The culprit was like Why aren't you laughing...wait...oh shit.

Oh shit is right.

Later that night an email came through from neighborhood security about suspected 8th and 9th grade boys caught on camera and in the process of being identified for "Petty vandalism" with the explanation that affected homeowners know boys that age are stupid and have no intention of pressing charges, but also need to make sure things don't escalate.

Not my kid, but a good you're not alone reminder that good boys this age are so damn...not using their brains much. This is how penises, butts, and boobies get drawn on other people's property. So as pissed as I am, it could have been much worse. Lesson, please sweet baby Jesus, learned.

Then this was in my Facebook feed Monday. Thank you for that.

I assume we will continue to accidently stumble upon them for some time to come. Today's find:

Callum on Underwear

Our dearest Callum is sensory seeking due to low registration. While he absolutely feels things, it's often dulled, muted, not punchy enough.

To say that potty training didn't go well the first, second, third, or subsequent tries is a huge understatement. Then suddenly he was three and a half, and it got to the point that we really didn't know if he was truly that clueless or fucking with us. Multiple times he literally stood there peeing on himself all like, "What? I don't know what you're talking about" as pee streamed down his leg, forming a puddle at his feet right after getting up from the potty because he didn't have to pee.

Literally. And so many times.

Then not too long after his fourth birthday he began to feel the Bern pee. Usually we'd be standing in line at the grocery store or Target when he began to guffaw and declare for all to hear, "MOM! I AM PEEING! RIGHT NOW! I AM PEEING!"

Chistoso as it was, people don't assume your 4 year old is wearing a Pull Up, so...awkward.

Soon after things looked good and we were finally on our way!

Then this happened. Three steps forward, a bazillion back. You cannot use the potty in a spica cast when your mom is literally 9 months pregnant.

Cast came off, baby sister took his baby spot in the family, and we waited for him to resume wanting to wear awesome underpants.

HahahahahaNO.

At four and more than a half we started all over because holy shit kindergarten is coming. And it was instant success!

Except now, even months later, I am left trying to convince an almost five year old (and not a two or three year old) every damn day that you have to change your underpants even if! you think they are not dirty. We've all made a big deal of our underpants changes. We try to reason, why have so many pairs if you really only need one or two?

(And unfortunately we can't bathe him every day and do it then because his eczema will raaaaaaaage.)

Callum ain't buying, and since it's usually me making the argument as we get dressed for the day he's decided changing clean yet day old underpants is some Mars vs. Venus bullshit invented by his bat shit crazy woman-mother.

But there will be no literal shit in his underpants come August. So, you win some, you lose some.

Callum on What to Wear

Callum sifting through his t-shirts this morning, "I...need...umm...a cape shirt. Oh! Here is one!"

It's a giant pet peeve of mine to hear that boys aren't as fun to dress as girls. Because BULLSHIT.

Super hero capes! Halloween costumes with fake muscles! (And I had more when I wrote this in my head but 4 hours of interrupted sleep last night!)

Olive the Prepper

I opened, to a random page, the book my delicate 7 year old flower picked out at the school book fair, limit $10.

On Moms

G, telling us about his day...

"So I said, 'Whatcha doing?' and he said, 'Your mom!'"
Hysterical, pee-in-your-pants laughter from my husband and teenage son.
Me, The Mom: "But is it really funny when it's your mom?"
Jason: "Yes it is!"