Callum on Our Super Hero Family

He is Fast Man!
Graeme is Slow Man!
Mommy is Woman Man! (Um, remember Wonder Woman? You do! But this is totally different? Okaaaay...)

G the God

From the third row, headphones in, listening to his mp3 player...

G: If I was a God I would be the God of Books, or Aimesh people.
H: Amish?
G: Yeah.
H: Why's that?
G: Our family's total and utter lack of technology.

It must be Rumspringa.

(We love it when he mispronounces things he's learned from books. Yesterday it was Baja California.)

Why He Loves Me

Heidi: "Wait, this intro is too long. Is this 'Adagio for Strings' Adagio for Strings? Because I was hoping for Puff Daddy and the Family."

(Yes, I have both on the same Spotify playlist.)



AfS is also something Jason plays on the piano often. I think from now on I will insist he add the P. Diddy parts.

Callum and the Potty

Whenever the opportunity arises, like any time he is changing, Callum feels the need to stick his penis out the top of his underwear and/or pants/pajama bottoms/swim trunks and then draw attention to it. Even though the rest of us are totally desensitized to this particular brand of humor, Callum cannot be convinced it is anything less than pure comedic gold that bears repeating no less than twice daily.

You would think a kid like that would pee on a damn tree.

At the park:
C: "I have to pee!"
Mom: "Okay, let's go water that tree way over there."
C: "No, I need a potty."
Mom: "But you can pee on a tree just like a bear!"
C, with total utter confusion and sadness: "But Mom, I am not a bear. I am a human."
C, as we hike to the car, and I'm racking my brain for the nearest restroom while loading four children and all their crap: "Hurry, please."

He cannot be convinced. I have tried, and tried. And tried.

Yay for teenagers who can escort their younger siblings in while you park the car. Fifteen minutes later I am approaching the nearest grocery store bathroom, located at the far end of produce, just past the double doors leading to the stockroom. Halfway through the store I can see that not only are the stockroom doors open, so is the bathroom door, with a perfectly framed side view of Callum: pants on the floor, hands on hips supporting his back, pelvis thrust forward, streaming arch of pee.

Right as I was face-palming my damn self a male employee walking by chuckled and tapped the door shut.

No, you're totally right Callum, peeing on a tree on the far end of the park where no one can see would be madness.

Literally Olive

Me: It's going to be a long summer for both of us if you continue to treat Callum like that.
Her: The length of summer isn't going to change because of what I do or don't do.

Callum's Out for the Summer

Callum's teacher sent home a big package of gum in their end of the year buckets. Callum ate (swallowed) the entire package (minus 3 pieces Olive talked him out of) in two minutes flat.

Welcome to summer vacay, bitches!

Three Amigos

Last summer Callum's girlfriend (cutie in the necklace) moved into our neighborhood. Yay! Now their partner is crime's family is attempting to do the same. If these three all end of at the same school next year for kinder...WATCH OUT.

Olive on Brothers

Driving their remote controlled cars through your hair when you're reading on the floor.

Oh dear, clueless Callum.

Violet on Shoes

(Jason on Violet on shoes: "She's Charo.")

Callum is Almost Five

Good things (eventually) come to those who (are forced to) wait.

Callum on Passing Gas, and Blame

"Be 'scuse me! Who was that?"

Callum the Artist

At Callum's parent teacher conference a few months ago we heard, again, how his flair for the fancy keeps him from completing projects in the time allotted.

Example: A simple, stay in the lines coloring page. Use a color or two to complete the picture. You've got 5 minutes.

Callum: Use all the colors available. Make meticulous alternating patterns of zig zags, stripes, polka dots, and unique intricacies. Are there letters or numbers involved? Bubble that shit.

Jason and I are like...uh...yeah...he kinda gets that from us, BOTH of us. So does at least one other kid. Then there's another other kid who, like, couldn't be any farther from this problem. Who knows about the fourth.

So we are supposed to be working on rushing, which, eye roll, preschool. Yes, we get it, or maybe we don't, because if the 4 year old wants to go above and beyond and is willing to finish it at home, well kinda seems like a #Problemnotproblem.

So, voilà, Callum's (sloppy) rush job, limit two colors. (Because nobody tells baby he can't make bubble letters at home.)



(Also, please note teacher's fancy letters top left.)

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!"

Remembering Nana

When my Dad first got a digital camera he had this totally annoying habit of pointing it at people and just letting it run, something you definitely can't appreciate in the moment, and cherish once it's too late.

Today my mom is six years gone.

Video from Olive's birth, April 16, 2008. Going to Baby Gap? So very my mom, exactly the way I love to remember her.

Stop "fixing" the Rubik's Cube

Callum's just the narc, Cracker is the fixer.

Baby Grand

Holy crap, we did it. We bought a piano!

The Culinary Preferences of Sir Mister Wuffles

Mr. Wuffles has no interest in meat, but always be up in my bran muffins, except that time we ran out of cat food so I gave him a muffin.

Legal bran muffin? Eff that.

Violet's Date Night

Dinner for the parents at our favorite little neighborhood Italian bistro, followed by a spin through Bed, Bath & Beyond to feel all the bath mats and towels. Sensorylicious!

Callum on Coffee

My first born won't drink anything but water, fat free cow's milk, Gatorade, and hot chocolate. No carbonation, no tea or coffee, never ever. Not even Yoda Soda.

My second born isn't a fan of carbonation either, but digs herbal tea.

My third born begs, "But I love the coffee black!" because his stupid mother once let him try a sample, straight black, at Trader Joe's thinking he'd hate it like the children before him did.

Fail. And no more coffee for you.