#isms, Volume 4

The Engineer: “Where are we going?”
Me: “To the dentist.”
The Engineer: “Sissy goes to the dentist.”
Me: “Yep. Her teeth are going to the teeth spa.”
The Artist: “They’re going to take my teeth out???!!!”

The Artist: “When my sister turns 3, will she still be a baby?”
Me: “Well, you two will always be my babies.”
The Artist: “No — will she be a baby, or will she be a kid?”
Me: “I guess technically she’ll be a kid.”
The Artist: “I don’t want her to be a kid. I want her to be a baby.”
Me: “Why?”
The Artist: “Because she’s so cute!”

The Artist: “So you teach?”
Me: “Yes. I teach college students.”
The Artist: “And you’re Dr. Judith.” Bursts out laughing. “That’s so funny.”

(Finding The Engineer climbing up the bottom side of her sister’s bunk bed…)
Me: Don’t climb up the bunk bed that way! Go up the ladder!
The Engineer: I’m not crying. I’m climbing.

(While painting a frog)
The Artist: “The pee pad is green.”
Me: “The what?”
The Artist: “The frog’s pee pad.”
Me: “LILY pad.”

Me: “What do you want for breakfast?”
The Artist: “A breakfast bar.”
Me: “Do you want anything else with it?”
The Artist: “Yes. A chocolate bar.”

Doing Social Studies homework:
Me: Circle the picture that shows the children being responsible. This picture is of a kid walking a dog. Is that responsible?
The Artist: No.
Me: What? Why?
The Artist: Because he may have been walking the dog without asking his parents if it was ok.
Me: Ah. Well, let’s say he did ask his parents.
The Artist: Oh. Good point. Yes, he’s responsible.

To her Sunday school teacher…
The Artist: “I drove myself to church today because Mommy is sick. Daddy is picking me up today.”
None of that was true…good thing she was in Sunday school.

Me: “He’s like Mr. Chris.”
The Artist: “You mean like Santa?”
Me: “Huh?”
The Artist: “Chris…Santa.”
Me: “No, it’s not Kris Kringle.”

(after being in time out)
Kyle: “Are you ready to say you’re sorry?”
The Engineer: (angrily) “Sorry.”
Me: “You need to say you’re sorry to me.”
Engineer: (glowers)
Me: “If you don’t, you can go back to time out.”
Engineer: (walks back to time out)

The Artist: “I wish we had an Elf like Snowflake (the Elf on the Shelf at her school).”
Me: “Your sister would touch him.”
The Artist: “We could put him somewhere high.”
Me: “We’re not supposed to touch him. He’s magic.”
The Artist: “We could just tell her not to touch him.”
Me: “She wouldn’t listen.”
The Artist: (Resigned) “Just stop.”


#isms, Uncategorized


It’s my birthday today, so to celebrate, here are my most recent #isms from my children.

The Artist: “My friends had to leave and can’t play with me anymore.”
Me: “I literally made you a friend. It’s your sister. She’s your lifelong friend.”
The Artist: “She’s just an experiment.”
Me: “She is not an experiment!!”

The Artist: “I need my vitamin.”
Me: “I gave it to you this morning.”
The Artist: “Are you sure?”
Me: “Yes.”
The Artist: “Hold on, I’m going to check with God.” (Holds up an imaginary phone.) “Hello, God? Is Mommy telling the truth? Okay, thanks.” (Hangs up imaginary phone.) “He said no.”

Kyle: “I’m ready to go to bed.”
The Engineer: “Me, too.”

(to a dog chasing us in the neighborhood while we were riding in a golf cart)
The Artist: “You don’t want to mess with us!”

The Artist: “I can count to 10 in Spanish. Uno, dos….Corinthians…”

The Artist: “Am I taking a lunchbox to church?”
Me: “No, we’re eating dinner here before.”
The Artist: “I don’t want to go then.”
Me: “What? Wait, why?”
The Artist: “I’ll get hungry.”
Me: “NO, YOU WON’T. I’m feeding you before.”
The Artist: “I’ll still be hungry.”

The Artist: “Knock, knock.”
Kyle: “Who’s there?”
The Artist: “Interrupting Saints.”
Kyle: “Interrupting Saints wh–”
The Artist: “WHO DAT!!!”

(The Engineer earned a trip to Dairy Queen after no accidents all day at school. So after she finished her blizzard, she informed me she needed to go potty. After she did…)
The Engineer: “I potty. I get treat?”

(passing a woman at the doctor’s office with a newborn baby)
The Artist: “That lady is going to have a baby.”
Me: “Shhhhh!”
The Artist: “What? I didn’t say she was OLD.”

And with that, happy birthday to me!!!


#isms, Volume 3

Every day, y’all…EVERY DAY my kids make me just bust out laughing. And I know every parent feels the same way, but it’s just so astonishing, even though my older girl is a full 5 years old, to see my adult sassiness portrayed in such a little body. She’s had it since she could mumble out words, though.

Kyle once said that he wished she could stay 2 forever – because 2 was a magical age, an age with excitement and wonder, with new experiences every day. And a friend said, “Why would you want that? Don’t you want to have conversations with her? Don’t you want her to ask questions and grow so you can learn about her hopes and dreams?”

As I like to say – parenting is that wild ride that keeps getting better.

And then we have my little one, my little crafty Engineer, who is using her toys to turn lights on and off, who moves stools from room to room so she can reach things, who uses my furniture like a playground – that one is coming into her own with even more sass. Heaven help Clairol and Revlon and L’Oreal and my hair stylist, because in a few years, we’re going to need the big guns to cover up all this gray.

For now, though, enjoy Volume III of #isms – quotes from my sweet and sassy little babies.

(after learning that God created animals and taking her favorite My Little Pony to Sunday School…)
Me: “Did you learn that God created Twilight Sparkle?”
The Artist: “No. We said she was just a pony.” (Then, accusatory…) “God didn’t make unicorns.”
Me: “No, but He made us to have imaginations to imagine unicorns. That’s kind of cool.”
The Artist: (pause) “I’m imaginating I’m singing and flying on a unicorn right now.”

(trying to skip church)
The Artist: “Yaya, do you hear how bad my voice sounds? And now I’m going to cough. Cough. Cough.”

Me: “Okay, sweetie, good night – oh, wait, look, the dog is on your bed!”

Screen Shot 2018-09-10 at 1.47.15 PM
We might have a Chihuahua problem.

The Artist: “What is she doing on my bed??”
Me: “Maybe she wanted to sleep with you. Can she sleep with you?”
The Artist: “NO! She will poo poo and tee tee all over my bed!”

The Artist: (singing): “Oooh, baby, do you love me?”
Me: “What song is that?”
The Artist: “One I made up.”

(in the car)
The Engineer: “NOOOOOOO.”
The Artist: “You better stop that yelling! If you don’t, I will unbuckle myself and I will throw you out of this car. Do you hear me?”
The Engineer: “NOOOOOOO!” (laughs)
The Artist: “Okay, that’s it. I’m going to unbuckle myself and throw you out of this car…Mommy! I need you to help me unbuckle!”

Me: “Did you get in trouble today?”
The Artist: “I don’t remember. My memory’s foggy. Silly memories. They thought they could go away.”

The Artist: “I love unicorns. They’re my favorite horses.”



#isms, Uncategorized

#isms, Volume 2

Feel free to check out my first volume of things my kids say here.

The Engineer: “I love you.”
Me: “I love you, too—“ (turning…and notice that The Engineer is talking to the dog…)

(in front of an audience at the library’s end-of-the-year reading celebration)
The Artist: (into the microphone): “Hello, my name is The Artist, and this is my sister, The Engineer, and she eats dog food and curtains and we didn’t know what to do, so we had to call the doctor—“
(Me, waving frantically for them to take the mic away…)

(me calling the doctor regarding The Engineer eating my curtains… — yes, it really did happen)
Nurse: Yeah, I don’t even know what to tell you about that.
Doctor: That child…she’s our daring one.

Me: “Y’all know Daddy’s birthday is Monday.”
The Artist: “Is he having a cake?”
Me: “Well, Daddy is a diabetic, so a cake really isn’t good for him.”
The Artist: “Oh. But a cake is good for us…”

(in the pool)
The Engineer: “I am mermaid! I am mermaid!”

(after LITERALLY 30 min at the pet store, staring at the cats)
Me: “Are you done?”
The Engineer: “No. I need look.” (pause) “Hi, cat.” (to me) “Help it get out.”

The Artist: “I wish I could go to a party.”
Me: “We just did at the pool this morning!”
The Artist: “That wasn’t a party.”
Me: “Define what a party is for me.”
The Artist: “It’s with balloons and cake. That’s a party.”

(going to a neighbor’s house to see some baby ducks)
Me: “Okay, let’s remember to be gentle and sweet to these baby ducks.”
The Artist: “Yeah, we don’t need to smack them or pull their feathers or close their beaks or anything like that.”
Me: “Well, that got dark fast.”

Thank you! Come back again for more!

#isms, Sweet girls

#isms, Volume 1

I love conversations with my kids. Every day is a new adventure. The Artist is 5, and The Engineer is 2, and they make me laugh all the time. Not only are they genuinely funny, but for little kids, they have quite a sassy streak, too.

Therefore, welcome to my first #isms post. I call it #isms because I refer to their quotes as #artistisms or #engineerisms. Enjoy!

Me, referring to a stupid driver in front of me: “What is that dinglehopper doing?”
The Artist: “Where’s a dinglehopper?”
Me: “In front of us.”
The Artist: “That’s not a dinglehopper. A dinglehopper is a fork.”
Me: “My mistake.”

The Artist, “reading” “Green Eggs and Ham” to The Engineer: “Did you hear her? She said ‘Bravo’ because I read to her.”
She did not.

Five minutes after The Engineer pooped and peed on the floor (joys of potty training)
The Artist: “How’s it going, Mama?”

The Engineer frequently tries to escape her car seat…pretty much every day…
The Engineer: “Mama, help.”
Me: “I’m not helping you escape your car seat.”
The Engineer: “Mama, I need help. Call Kyle.”

While playing in the pool…
The Artist: “Don’t fake cry, Mommy. I won’t be gone forever. I have my puddle jumper.”

The Artist: “MAMA! There’s a bug in the car, and it just went under your seat.”
Me (driving): “Are you serious? Are you telling me the truth?”
The Artist: “Yes. It’s a bug. A big bug.”
Me (looking for a place to pull over): “Is it the size of an ant?”
The Artist: “No, it’s a lot bigger.”
Me (basically speeding up and swerving and checking under my feet): “What did it look like?”
The Artist: “It was black and red striped.”
Me (full blown panic): “Are you sure?”
The Artist: “Well, no. I didn’t see its colors. But it’s a bug. A big bug.”
It was a fly.

(after checking the mail and finding an empty mailbox)
The Artist: “When are they going to put something in our mailbox? Like a hippopotamus?”

Me (after reading a book to The Artist about traits): “So where do you get your blue eyes from? Mommy or Daddy?”
The Artist: “Jesus.”