Category: #isms

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.”

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!”

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!”
#truth

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.”