Our family took a mini trip to a rented house in a quaint little mountain town known for its apple cider and apple pie. On the drive, as we got farther and farther from our city by the sea (and sea level), Husband warned the kids of several possibilities, due to the altitude:
Their ears might start to hurt, due to the altitude.
The air is thinner, so it might be harder to breathe, due to the altitude.
It’s much colder, due to the altitude.
These possible side effects were mentioned several times… due to the altitude.
At the house, one daughter said the water tasted different, “maybe due to the altitude.” (I suggested it was probably just the different fridge.)
As another daughter climbed into bed with socks on, I was shocked to see how filthy the bottom of her feet were.
Because parenting is hard, cruddy stuff is going to happen. It just comes with the territory. Taking a deep breath and moving on after an unfortunate incident will help you maintain a happier demeanor, inside and out, especially when it comes to things you have no control over. Some days your children are just going to be fussy like they’re taking turns or have it scheduled on a secret calendar. Keeping a sense of humor helps. Once I asked a friend how her kids were. She responded: “For sale.”
Little secret, though: I only combed through the first couple of chapters for these ten. I could get 10 or more “top” 10 articles out of this book. As one reviewer put it:
She was tipsy when she wrote this book. (It contains more tips than the apron of the prettiest bar maid at Oktoberfest.) It’s clear that she’s a happy, fun person (Betsy, not the bar maid), who followed the advice from her previous books…
She shares her struggles and successes with a healthy dose of humility and humor. Well, maybe it’s more a gluttonous dose of humor.
I also got this text from my sister: “I CAN’T GET MY WORK DONE BECAUSE I CAN’T PUT YOUR BOOK DOWN.” She wrote that during her “I can’t figure out how to get rid of all caps on my phone” phase (though she would’ve written that in all caps).
Another person said, “I might have raised better kids if I had had your book a long time ago!”
At the end of a school play (Pre-covid, obviously), when the audience was applauding, Joe kept saying something I couldn’t hear. Finally, when the crowd’s enthusiasm died down, he said, “They weren’t listening to me. They kept clapping.”
“Oops!” my nine-year-old said as she opened the orange juice.
“Did you spill it everywhere?” I asked.
“Not everywhere,” she said. “I didn’t spill it in Japan.”
Can’t argue with that logic.
Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. (I’m just going to pretend you’ve noticed and have been concerned.) Now I seriously want that delicious looking glass of o.j. With a little something extra in it. Triple sec? Amaretto?
When a boy ran by a kindergarten girl, she remarked, “That kid flew by like a bag of popcorn!”
Who knew popcorn could move so fast?
When asked what he would do with $100, one kindergartner said with glee, “I’d buy a Lamborghini, a new house, and an airplane!”
A quote from my (non-kindergarten) daughter that was pretty entertaining came when she stepped out of the van after a 30-minute drive to our hiking site, looked down at her feet, and said, “Awww, man.”
Awful or awfully funny? You decide. Let me know in the comments.
We had guests over Sunday afternoon. One graciously explained to us about different phone plans. And providers. And phones themselves. And frequencies. And something about company buyouts. Plus a lot of numbers were being bandied about.
In other words, I was completely lost by about the third sentence. Maybe second.
Meanwhile, my children sat in the room with us listening patiently. Or so I thought.
When the dear fellow was finished downloading us with all this information, my youngest daughter said, “Finally. I wondered if he was breathing between words.”
I’m not sure if any of the adults in the room have laughed that hard in a long time.
Queen of spades courtesy of pixabay.
Except perhaps when we were playing the card game Tripoli and another daughter, not well-versed in the various suit names, laid down “the queen of hoes.”
After drying our eyes on our sleeves, we informed her that it is actually called the queen of spades.
I found this story in my drafts folder from about two years ago!
Raccoon photo courtesy of Pixabay.
We spotted a raccoon. In our yard.
Normally this would be met with a little excitement, mingled with a twinge of fear as in: Don’t let the kids get close; it could be rabid.
But tonight the sight meant: We have chickens! Get that b*stard out of here!
No one said that, of course. The children, after all. But Hubs and I were thinking it.
He grabbed a stick and chased after the raccoon, which jumped on the lattice fence. As it was crawling down the other side, Hubs jabbed the stick through a hole and got the racoon in its belly. It fell the remaining two feet and scurried off.
[If you love all creatures, great and small, including chicken killers, my apologies.]
“That will keep him away. But not for long,” Hubs said.
The children went on the offensive. Armed with sticks and a surprisingly functional homemade bow and arrow, they kept guard, marching back and forth along the fence. Read the rest of this entry →