Chemo mom · children · Comedy · Motherhood

Missed a week of Mondays

Not that you guys are reading this, but I missed last wek, and Monday of this week.  So I’mma gonna do this one tonight (2 months) and another one tomorrow night (2 more months).   And here we go… June of 2013 (be prepared for new baby Sophie-isms!  This is when Archer was born):

June 2013:

During Sophie’s VPK graduation, the teachers announced what the kids wanted to be when they grew up. This is the order it came in:
Boy before Sophie. Teacher: “I asked Haven over and over for weeks and always got ‘I wanna be a cowboy!’ as an answer.” (general crowd goes “awwwww”)
Sophie: Teacher: “Sophie is very clear that she wants to be a paleontologist.”
(teacher kinda stumbles over the pronunciation, crowd around us snickered, some eyebrows shoot up.)
Girl after Sophie: Teacher: “I asked her nearly every day and Destinee is sure of this. When she grows up, she wants to live in the mall.” (crowd laughs and gives general “awwwww”).
We had a few future cops, one future superhero, a ballerina, a firefighter, and then my stand alone Paleontologist. I didn’t think I could have had a prouder moment until we got downstairs and one of the dads asked Sophie what a paleontologist was and she said “They hold digs and look for mammoths and dinosaurs in the dirt, and then they take them to museums and put them back together for little kids to look at.” In my book that’s close enough for government work!
The dad looked up at me with his eyebrows up and I shrugged with a smile on my face. She’s not an idiot. She knows what she wants.

Cartoon logic: ~princess meeting a woman who claims to be her mother when she was raised entirely by another woman, INSTANTLY believes and hugs the strange woman. Princess introduced to the “man she is supposed to marry”, INSTANTLY falls into his arms.~
Reality: Puh-lease. Some woman tells me she’s my mom, I’m going to want birth certificates, blood work, and DNA matching, and then I MIGHT be okay with a phone call occasionally, cause I already have a mom, thanks. As for the man? shoot… I’ve been with Dan for nearly 13 years, and I still don’t fall into his arms. What are these cartoons teaching our kids?

pink witch

Me (to Sophie): “Are you a bad child?”
Sophie: “No.”
Me: “Not even occasionally?”
Sophie: “Nope.”
Dan: “Only on Tuesdays and bank holidays.”
Me (to Sophie): “Is daddy right?”
Sophie: “Yup.”
Well at least she’s honest.

metal baby

Last night we made little iron on onsies for Archer, cause let’s be honest, my kid isn’t really going to pull off the “adorable little boy” thing long, considering he’s already a bit of a bad@$$ kickboxing champ. His newest onsies?
1: Metallica symbol.
2. Led Zepplin album cover (the one with the Hindenburg, you all know which one)
3. Seether album cover (the creepy one with the skeletal girl, cause it’s cool)
4. A flaming acoustic guitar image (cause it was cool)
And then??
5. Hard rock hand symbol in black and white negative.
Cause he wants to express himself. The kid’s already proven he has the rhythm to jam out IN UTERO to Godsmack. So why not?

(Dan banging at something in the kitchen, Sophie’s supposed to be picking out a book, but comes running up the hall)
Sophie: ~dramatic gasp at the sound Dan made~ “Oh my gosh!! Are you okay???”
Dan: “Yes”
Me: “No. He’s falling apart. His arm just fell off and is rotting on the floor like a zombie. Now go get a book.”
Sophie: ~turning without any drama~ “Okay.” ~sing song voice, prancing away down the hall again.~
Me to Dan: “She seemed really concerned.”

2:47. Again with the wake up with painful contractions… and AGAIN they stopped after about 35 minutes. I.Am.Not.Amused. Horace Agatha Wolfgang Abdul the Eighth…. Your teeny little butt is grounded when you’re born. No hanging with your buddies for at LEAST two months.

This is why, when kids at school tell Sophie she’s not a princess, she responds with “I know. I’m an Empress.”
I am a woman

most women: ~swoon over a man telling them pretty things, buying them pretty things.~
Me: ~swoon over Dan picking his underwear off the floor and helping with the dishes.~
I think I’ve lowered my standards over the last 13 years.

Sophie: “When Archer’s born, he can be your prince and I can marry daddy.”
Me: “Daddy’s mine, kiddo. I don’t share. You have to find your own prince to bring home so mommy can scare him to death. if he sticks around, then you can keep him.”
Sophie: “But I was going to scare the prince!”
Me: “Trust me… you can and likely will scare LOTS of princes. It’s the nature of being one of the Yayas. It’s in your blood. But the persistent ones you’ll have to bring home so mommy can scare them more.”
Sophie: “Can’t I just have daddy?”
Me: “Nope. I’m not done scaring him yet.”
Sophie: “When you’re done, can I have daddy and you can scare Archer?”
Me: “Archer will have too much of my genes in him to really scare, but if I ever feel like I’ve scared Daddy enough, you can have him then. Okay?”
Sophie: “Okay. Scare daddy enough, and then I have him.”
Me: “Good girl.”
Sophie ~beaming with pride, bouncing in back seat to Adelitas Way song~

Thoughts burning through my brain over and over:
“thou shalt not duct tape the child to the hood of the car…. thou shalt not duct tape the child to the hood of the car…. thou shalt not duct tape the child to the hood of the car”
“OMG GO TO SLEEP SOPHIA TEMPERANCE!!!
GOOOOOO TOOOOO SLEEEEEEEPPP”
~sigh~
I love that she’s so personable, but does she REALLY have to fill ever single second of the day with a sound from her mouth?

(I ended up admitted for high BP during pregnancy.  This was at 37 weeks.) The nurse put on the board “Goals: Stay pregnant…” then the schpeal about the bp. Dan hijacked the board with the words I kept uttering. GET IT OUT!!!
Get it out

Day 2 of enforced imprisonment. The night warden (nurse) has no sense of humor, wants me to be pregnant for ever, and does not approve of my Gator T-shirt. I do not approve of her. I’m on the third floor, so the window is not an option for escape. I’m going to have to wait for shift change and try to sneak out unnoticed. Wish me luck. ~shifty eyed look~

Me (to Sophie): “Your brother is bigger than you were when you were a baby! Do you know how big you were?”
Sophie: “A pumpkin?”
Me: O.O “Uh… you were a little pumpkin.”
Sophie: “So now I’m a Big pumpkin?”
Me: “You are a GIANT pumpkin now.”
Moments like this my kid can give Disney a run for their “awwwwww” money.

Dan: “How you feelin’?”
Me: “Fat.”
Dan: “You’re pregnant.”
Me: “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
~eye roll~

My night nurse is from Aberdeen, Scotland. Once the nurse left the room, Dan turns to me and asks:
Dan: “How does someone from Scotland hear about and move to Tallahassee?”
Me: “How do people here hear about Aberdeen, Scotland?”
Dan: “A song.” … and he stars singing “Evil Scotsman” by Billy Connelly
~Dan’s voice:”sheep shagger from Aberdeen.”~
OMG…. please, God, keep Dan’s lips tight so he doesn’t sing that song in front of her. I would be MORTIFIED.

Sophie (to Daniel, holding his arm and pulling down on his arm to get him to lean down to her):” Daddyyyyyyy.”
Dan: “What?”
Sophie: “I gotta whisper in your ear.”
Dan: ~deadpan~ “Jump.”
Sophie ~JUMPING as high as she can~

Day 3 of imprisonment: My night warden was from Aberdeen and was a smart one. Nice, but smart. This concerns me. I’m thinking the NSA is following my FB status, if they decided to assign a former MI5 agent as a warden. Shift change right now, but they hooked me up to a bunch of monitors before shift change, so I won’t be able to move without them knowing it. They are getting smarter. Time for plan H….

tiny army

I hear Sophie talking and singing in her bedroom.
Me: “Silence Child!!!” (in my head… “I keeel you!” but not outloud).
Sophie: “But the cats are keeping me awake!”
Me: ~turning to look at the window sill right next to me… counting kitty heads. One…two…three…. The fourth can’t climb into Sophie’s bed. hmmmm “Wanna rethink that kid? They are in here!”
Sophie: ~dramatic pause……..~ “But the shadows are keeping me awake (Sophie’s way of saying ghosts or angels or something).”
Proof that she’s daddy’s granddaughter. Blaming the cats.

Digital thermostat in the house is smarter than me. I’m hot…. it keeps asking me to program temps for the whole stinking week and I JUST WANT IT COLDER NOW. I hate computer stuff. Where’d I put that hammer?

Sophie: “Mary was Jesus’s mom and Joseph was Jesus’s dad.”
Me: “Mary was Jesus’s mom, but God was Jesus’s dad. Joseph was Mary’s husband and he raised Jesus as if he was his daddy. Joseph was a very good man.”
Sophie: ~confused look~ “Raised to heaven?”
Me: “No. Raised, as in from baby-hood to adulthood.”
Sophie: ~confused look.~
ME: “Like we’re raising you from childhood to adulthood. Making it so that you are safe, healthy, and a good adult. That’s what raising a child means. No guarantees on the quality of work in this house, though.”
Sophie: ~giggle~
Dan: “No refunds, exchanges, or substitutions.”

What would you do for a Klondike bar? My kid? for the promise of a klondike bar after lunch, she will sit here quietly playing with her dinosaur game and her kindle and let her mommy take a nap. Thank you klondike bar, for existing.

Sophie: “Sometimes my manners get lost.”
Me: “Where do you lose your manners?”
Sophie: “The scary loser forest or the creepy bad forest.”
Me: “Do you go into the creepy bad forest to get them back?”
Sophie: “Only if daddy’s there to help you. But I’m brave, I never get scared.”
Me: “Uhh… okay. but if you aren’t scared to go into the forest, why is it sometimes you lose your manners and go without them for a while?”
Sophie: “Cause I’m too busy to fight the monsters.”
Well then… we all just learned a new thing today. It’s the scary loser forest or the creepy bad forest coupled with our children’s’ hectic schedules to blame for their lack of manners.

Watching “Say yes to the dress” on netflix with Sophie, and I’ve discovered that we might have to have TWO budgets for Sophie’s wedding. One for the dress, one for the rest of the wedding. And is it silly that I want to give the same kind of $$ to Archer when he gets married, even if it’s not for a wedding? I was thinking both kids deserve the same thing from us. but MAN do we need to get saving!!!

Bedrest+ 5 year old + husband pulling another 14 hour shift = headache and desire to smother child with pillow.
“No, hunny, mommy can’t build you a pillow and blanket fortress in the dining room.”
“No, baby, mommy can’t go blow up the kiddie pool and sit in 106 heat index with you in the yard.”
“I’m sorry, sweetpea, mommy sucks and can’t get on the floor to build an intricate train track cause she can’t get back off the floor.”
Shoot me.

One of the most important things my dad taught me (subtly over the 18 years that I haunted his shadow) put eloquently by another great man.
“The things that will destroy America are prosperity-at-any-price, peace-at-any-price, safety-first instead of duty-first, the love of soft living, and the get-rich-quick theory of life.”
– Theodore Roosevelt.
AKA: You gotta earn what you get if you want to keep it, fight for what you believe regardless of what others tell you to believe, and not take the easy way out. My dad is one of the best dads under the sun.

Daniel playing around on his computer, playing a Nirvana song sung by monks.
Dan: “It doesn’t get much cooler than Benedictine monks singing Nirvana.”
Me: O.O “Yeah it does. Nirvana singing Nirvana. Derp.”

Following a particularly hard contraction (normal at this point, people. I am not in labor yet.)
Me: “That hurt! It’s like my uterus is trying to climb out of the front of me!”
Dan: “Well, there are good things to say about air conditioning.”
Me: O.O “Uhhh…”

Dan (from the kitchen): “That’s what I don’t have!” (to himself)
Me: (living room): “Money? An amazing paying job? Two working cars? a lawnmower? A day without the desire to kill the cats?”
Dan: “Well, on top of all of that, yes, I figured out what else I was missing.”
Me: “And that is?”
Dan: “A pickle.”
Me: “yeah… okay… that was my next guess.”

Dan got all of us a little chocolate cake to celebrate Archer’s arrival, and the cake was AMAZING (but) it had little blue icing flowers on it that were just so sugary that Dan and I couldn’t eat the flowers. Sophie was taking all our dishes into the kitchen and noticed the flowers on Dan’s and my plates.
Sophie: ~eyes growing wide and looking from Dan’s plate to Dan~ “You aren’t going to eat your flower?”
Dan: “Nope. Not going to eat it.”
Sophie: “Well then I’ll eat your flower.”
Dan and me: “Okay.”
Sophie: “I’m such a good helper I eat your flowers for you!”
That’s my girl, always SUCH a good helper!

I get into the car this morning to go have the c-section and finally get this baby out, and Dan puts this on his radio. Apparently he has this MP3. I married a cheeseball.

I’m blessed. Dizzy, in pain, and slightly flustered, but completely blessed. Sophie’s been wonderful with Archer. She keeps touching his hair and talking about how beautiful he is. I know I’m hormonal and drugged, but that would make any mother cry tears of love. My babies are amazing. I have two snuggle bunnies. Two kids that like to curl up against Dan and I and cling to us. And a husband that loves snuggling the three of us right back. Just.So.Blessed.

Okay, who replaced my wonderful Empress with a pushy spoiled brat? Stomp her feet at me just because it’s bedtime? Oh, I don’t think so. Mommy don’t play that.

Archer and Sophie are just priceless together. Sophie just wants to hold him, and kiss him, and snuggle. And I have a tendency (since Sophie was a baby) to pretend to nibble on baby toes… so guess what Sophie’s been doing? “Om nom nom nom nom.” From little sweet 5 year old girl lips while she kisses his little feet.
Yes… I have the perfect kids.

Archer’s still jaundiced. It’s not getting worse, just not better. Going to the pediatrician (he has to see the pediatrician with 4 days of release anyways), and I’m going to be all weird in front of Sophie and Archer’s pediatrician (who totally understands my anxiety because they were there through Sophie’s LCH). Hopefully they will give me something to help it and make it go away forever so that I can be normal again. Well…. normal for me… Okay, normal for a version of me that could fall asleep standing upright.

Archer is soooo flipping sweet. And funny. he makes the funniest faces. I can’t wait until he gets the english language down. Him plus Sophie will be a traveling show. OH, how cute is this? Sophie was watching a show on her kindle today when my mom called, and I asked Sophie if she wanted to talk to Grandma. Sophie’s response? (without even looking up at me) “Not on Sunday.” She then turned heel and walked off. What?? Not on Sunday? So we get to enforce the Sunday rule for not working on not talking to some people? If so, I’m so going to do that. But I don’t think Sophie should consider talking to my parents as work, especially considering how excited she gets when we talk about visiting them (kid pings off the walls for hours after the discussion, me thinkst my parents spoil her a bit too much).

Archer knows what I smell like (for any mother who has breastfed, you totally know why). So Dan was feeding Archer from a bottle and Archer refused it (it was not formula, okay…)
Me (to Dan): He can smell me. I probably need to be holding him for him to eat from the bottle.” (Dan hands Archer to me)
Sophie: “I smell coconuts, palm trees, and rice.”
Me: “You smell nuts alright.”
Sophie: “I smell poo nuts.”
Me: “Thank you comedy Gods, for giving me Sophie.”

Archer totally facepalmed in his sleep.
Archer facepalm

Me to Dan: “Be nice to me. I was peed on today by your son.”
Dan: “I just got peed on a few minutes ago.”
Archer:~grunt~
Me: “Translation. He’s an equal opportunity pee-er.”
Archer: ~grunt, chirp~

I am the luckiest woman in the world. Archer has been (yes I know it’s involuntary at this point) smiling while he sleeps. And it’s such a sweet melt your heart smile. And Sophie still proved to me that, despite being the little hard@$$ empress that she is, when the thunder hit hard, she still ran to my arms for a hug and a kiss and to hold onto me. AND I married Peeta, sweet, loyal, warm, kind, and he MAKES ME BREAD!!! I’m one big useless mushy mess right now. But I’m a lucky mushy mess.

Me (to Dan): “You don’t want to go to law school do you?”
Dan: “No. Why?”
Me: “You’re really into the political stuff and the supreme court decisions recently.”
Dan: “Naw. I’m just tired of people being dumb…. and then going down the dumb path.”
Dude… there’s a dumb path. Mental note: Find that and put it on the jogging map so I can avoid it when I go for a run.

Took Archer to the pediatrician for a recheck and his jaundice is all but gone. We have a slightly blocked tear duct, but otherwise he’s 100%. The funny thing? he peed on the scale…. and he was sneaky about it. they stripped him down for his weight, I lifted his toosh to slide the back of the diaper under him, and BAM!!! he aimed for the wall and hit it, the scale, and then formed a pool on the scale. keep in mind, by this point, he had a diaper under him that should have prevented the pool… lord, kid has a bladder!!! the nurses and doctors were all laughing so hard. the nurse said it was okay, but if he did it when he was 15, he’d be cleaning it up himself. totally awesome.

This is the sound Archer makes when I’m feeding him, especially if I do anything at all that he disapproves of, such as touching his adorable little nose, or talking to him and disturbing his concentration on food.

Archer’s getting little chubbie cheeks. Dan’s started to call him “Buggie” cause Archer just curls his little arms and feet under him like a little beetle. With the new chubbie cheeks, he’d have to be my little chubbie buggie.
Then again, Dan’s also calling him Jean Luc (like Picard) cause he has dark straight hair going around his head, but the hair on top of his head is blonde and barely visible, so he looks like he’s got the old man bald spot on top. I prefer buggie… cause we need to not make him THAT geeky this early.

July 2013:

I have apparently threatened to smother pinkie pie (the my little pony) with a pillow enough that Sophie is now saying it. I’m not upset by this.

Me to Dan: “Can you get Sophie her treat (following dinner, cause she earned one)… she’s been asking for it for a while. Just give it to her already before my head explodes from her asking.”
Sophie: “It’s not going to stop my vibrating.”
Dan: “Never truer words spoken.”
Me: ~sigh~

Dan bickers when he doesn’t get sleep. Sophie bickers in the morning. They were both going at it this morning when it dawned on me… Sophie has Dan’s bickering habits, same speech pattern, same logic in argument. In all my 33 years, I never saw what my mom sees when Daddy and I bicker back and forth (on those rare occasions we don’t see eye to eye) and my mother would laugh and say that we are both so alike and tell us to stop. Dan and Sophie showed me that this morning. I threatened to bang their heads together to get them to stop. it worked.

How to damage your kids in a way that will ensure they can’t grow up to get real jobs, but instead spend their lives dreaming of being a music journalist or a rock star: Don’t teach them “twinkle twinkle little star…” Teach them the words to any and all Cream, Clapton, Eagles, Halestorm, Motorhead, Nirvana, and Aerosmith (to name a few) songs you can. I caught Sophie singing Angel by Aerosmith yesterday.

I finished feeding Archer his second supper (he’s a hobbit… see), and checked his diaper.
Me: ~sigh~
Dan: “What?”
Me: “I don’t get it. He gets all comfy eating, and BAM, pees himself.”
Dan: “You ever notice the similarities between babies and old people?”
And this is why we have lasted 12 years, people. The man is as broken as me.

Sophie: “Butterfly tattoos make me angry.” (which confuses me, cause she wanted the butterfly temp tattoos… so wtheck?)
Me: “Uh… okay… butterflies make you angry like the hulk?”
Sophie: “Yes… angry like the hulk. Butterfly smash! But ladybug tattoos make me happy.”
Me: “No smash?”
Sophie: “No smash.”
Parenting rule 101: Ruin you kids early and often. Comic books and tattoos in one argument. Win!

OMG.. Antiques Roadshow on Netflix. I just history-geek-gasmed. And now Dan wants to walk into traffic. Sorry baby, I have to. It’s the Joel McFarland in me.

How to scare the CRAP out of your husband. Hand your newborn son to him for him to feed and change (cause it was my turn to sleep for a couple of hours) and tell him that wouldn’t be opposed to doing this yet again (this being having another kid)… and telling him to think about it.
Talk about deer in the headlights look. That was priceless. What?? I have awesome kids. Despite the lack of sleep and Archer’s gas issues, I kinda like this whole baby thing. And I like the kids. (disclaimer: I like my kids. ONLY my kids. Not your kids, not the kids at the daycare, and not the kids at Sophie’s new school. MY kids. I’m that woman, and I’m okay with that.)  *what’s funny about this is 10 months later, we got a happy miracle in the form of a positive pregnancy test and 10 months after that Vivi was born*

What happens when you give a good man a daughter and surround him with girl pets for 5 years? He gets so painfully used to having nothing but girls around him that he keeps slipping up and referring to his new son as “her” or “she.” He’s going to give his son a complex before Archer can even walk!!! ~sighing in frustration~ poor kid. He’s going to be messed up enough just being born into our family… he doesn’t need more damage.

This was a few weeks ago. proof that Archer has a Metal-head in his genes… Those are reflexive Metal horns…. yup, My kids rock.
Archer metal hands

(on way into school this morning)
Sophie: “I’m going to kill all the bad guys when I grow up, right momma?”
Me: “It’s not nice to talk about killing people. Why not just throw them all in jail like Batman does?” (gotta speak in her language, and happily it’s my language too).
Sophie: ~pause~ “Okay, throw them all in jail unless they make Archer cry. if they make Archer cry, can I kill them then?”
Me: ~pause, realizing I can’t tell her no to this if I would kill them for the same reason~ “Yeah, baby. You can kill them then if you want.”
Sophie looked at me in the rear view mirror and did her little squinting thing that she thinks is winking and giggled. How did I end up so lucky? Amazing hard@$$ little girl, and my sweet boy. ~luckiest woman on earth~

How to guarantee the baby will wake up hungry with a wet diaper and fussy from gas, all at once… pour milk on your cereal.

Inappropriate discussions about kid toys/shows in our house recently:
1. (little background… in My Little Pony show, the mark on the rump of the ponies is called a “cutie mark”) Sophie was talking about a “cutie mark” in front of my dad.
Dad: “What’s a cutie mark?” (to me)
Me: “A tramp stamp for my little ponies.”
2. (Dan picking up barbies, runs across one that is nekked, but Sophie has put ever conceivable piece of barbie jewelry and accessories (shoes, belts, etc) on without clothes.) Dan: “What is this, Porn star Barbie??”
Me: “With the toys they sell now and the clothes they sell for barbie, if that ain’t Porn Star Barbie, I’m sure there’s one out there.”
~few minutes later, I find a nekked barbie on the back of a barbie horse.~
Me: (to Dan) “Look!! Lady Godiva!!”

Archer: “Bother me while I’m busy again, and I will kill you in your sleep.”
Me: O.O
Archer death stare

Grocery shopping with a 5 year old and a baby in the rain.. the appeal of the romantic afternoon Florida storms has died a spectacular death.

okay, so I got flack for wanting to give Archer the name Joel Archer Chase … so I dropped the Chase even though I didn’t really want his initials to be JABB (hence why Chase was in there). We already have a STBB (sophie), and she ended up being a little stabby, so I was planning ahead, but I dropped the Chase because I didn’t have enough backbone to stand up and say I wanted it. Now that the royal baby is born I started to look at royal names out of curiosity.
King Edward VIII was born Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David
King George VI was born Albert Frederick Arthur George.
I was trying to prevent a jabby kid to go with my already stabby one and I’m the weirdo? Sheesh. Those kooks make me look normal!

Now the manchild sleeps. Not at 2am…. not at 3am… not at 4am… But at 11am when I am about to go hit the streets for a jog?!?! He’s been taking tips from his sister. OH, and he’s already learned the wide angry eyed stare-down while screaming “MEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” at me cause apparently I ticked him off. Interesting. Sophie didn’t learn that trick and that I was deserving of her mirth until she was 2 months old. This one’s a bit too smart for his own good.

Archer: “You bore me. I can’t even bother holding up my head to threaten you.”
bored archer

Notes on jogging in Tally:
1. If you want it to rain, tell me to go for a jog, and then wait until Im about 2 miles from the house. Insta-downpour, every time. Dan actually came looking for me cause WOW the lightning. And I checked the weather before I left too!
2. Tallahassee+summer rain+heat=water moccasins in the road. WTHECK?
3. You never realized how much you use your glutes running until you haven’t done it for a while, and then push to run more than it should. I just finished my jog and I’m already so sore, sitting hurts!!
4. There’s a reason I coupled kettle bell and other upper-body muscle building exercises with jogging. My back is KILLING me. ouch. Nicholas, I need your help brushing up on KB form again.
5. Lesson learned, improvements to be made, but GREAT time, exhilarating when the water started to fall. LOVE jogging.

Found this photo today and had to post it. This is (Joel) Archer’s namesake, my Grandpa (Joel Ulysses McFarland) and Sophie at 6 months… Archer’s already almost that size!!!
I wish they were able to know him the way that I did. He was an amazing man with bright blue eyes, a mind of solid steel, an enduring sense of duty, and horrible taste in clothes… God love him. I wonder what he thinks of us naming a kid after him…

Grandpa Mac and Sophie

Dan picked up McDs on the way home for dinner and I asked for a milkshake (hush… I love their milkshakes and I sweated like a pig in the yard today). He forgot my milkshake (oh well, my hips didn’t need it anyways, right?). When he got home, he told me.
Me: “I birthed two children for you and you can’t even get me a milkshake?” (sarcastically while smiling at him).
Sophie: “Yeah… she’s not going to birth you any more kids until you get her a milkshake.”
Me: ~laughing through tears a few minutes later~ “Uh… that’s not really how it works, kiddo, but okay. We’ll go with that threat for now.”
Dan: “No more milkshakes. Got it.”

Sophie: “Whenever the mutant groundhog comes we catch it, and when he stops, we shoot him and then paint him different colors….”
Me ~interrupting her~: “Wait… there are mutant groundhogs?”
Dan:”Maybe we shouldn’t take her around any groundhogs, ever.”
Me: “Maybe we should, and arm her early and often. dinner, right? even mutant groundhogs could qualify as meat. What exactly is a mutant groundhog… can you describe him so I know what I’m looking at or do I just have to guess that it’s a mutant groundhog by its groundhog-ish-ness?”
Sophie: “It’s huge, but no. You’ll have to see it.”
Me: “Well that sounds like it could be a dangerous introduction.”

Daniel poured coffee into ice cube trays cause that’s just awesome.
Sophie: “Is that venomous water?” (she’s been watching Steve Corwin’s animal planet snake stuff recently).
Dan: “Yes, it’s venomous water. It’ll kill anyone but precisely trained adults.”
Yes… we are doing a GREAT job damaging her.

OMG… the next person to give Sophie a stamp set of ANYTHING is going to come down here and scrub my floors, and the walls and the sink in the bathroom, and wash Sophie’s sheets, AND THEN wash my kid, and by god if she touches Archer, then Archer will get a bath too… GRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sophie: “You look furry and fluffy daddy.”
Dan: “Thanks. Not sure how to take that.”
Sophie: “You don’t look furry and fluffy, mommy.”
Me: “I’m glad I shaved.”
Dan: “I don’t know about that…”
Sophie: “I do. Daddy’s furry and fluffy, mommy’s beautiful.”
Me: “So if you’re furry and fluffy, you’re not beautiful, right?”
Sophie: “Yeah. That’s right. And Daddy’s furry and fluffy.”
Dan: ~confused~
Me: ~triumphant smile~
Couple minutes later:
Dan: “I definitely gotta get my hair cut tomorrow.”
Me: “Yup… you’re furry and fluffy.”
Dan: -_-

Sophie: “If you get near squirrels, they will try to eat you and bite you… and they will eat your head, and suck on your brains until you’re dead.”
Me: “Zombie squirrels?”
Sophie: “No.. they aren’t zombies… they are like chipmunks… they are just squirrels. They are just like meat eaters. They will eat you if you get near them.”
Me: “Sounds like zombie squirrels to me.”
Sophie: “Have you saw the huge zombie squirrels? I dreamed about zombie squirrels that are huge with razor sharp teeth to the floor, and one chased me, and I ran fast like this. ~run across room… running like a girl. ~sigh~~ I run fast like flash.”
Me: “So we have wildlife, zombies, the flash, and geeky running all in one conversation. We’ve ruined our children.”
Dan: ~playing with Archer~ “Nope… he’s still young and impressionable.”
Sophie: ~standing up and stomping over to me.~ “Can you guys quit disturbing me while I color?”
Me: “I’m going to take a nap. This conversation just got so confusing I feel like I’ve had too much to drink, and I’ve been sober for nearly three years now.”

Sophie decided to draw the zombie squirrel for me. cause I deserved it. ~beaming with pride~ She loves me, people. She really love me. Actual conversation upon the receipt of this amazing gift (and yes, this is going in her scrap book).
Me: “What is this?”
Sophie: “The squirrel with the long pointy teeth that I told you about yesterday.”
Me: “The Zombie Squirrel?”
Sophie: “No. This squirrel doesn’t say ‘Om nom nom nom… brains.’ It just eats brains. It’s not a zombie, cause it doesn’t say that.”
Me: “Not all zombies are quite as vocal about their desires, kiddo. zombies eat brains. If this squirrel eats brains, it’s a zombie squirrel. IF it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck.. it’s probably a duck, babe.”
Sophie: “It’s not a duck, its a brain eating squirrel! End of discussion!” ~stomping foot and walking off~
(You can’t make this $&%$#& up, people. my kid told me end of discussion and then walked off.)
zombie squirrel

That’s all for these two months!

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