Some Jackisms, Brennisms and Megisms (to bring you joy in this new year : )

This blog post is at the request of Jack, himself.

“Mom,” he suddenly said this morning, “why don’t you ever post any of the funny things that we say on your blog anymore? Have we stopped saying funny things? Or are you just lazy?”

Yeah, he really said that. And he was being sincere. This is my life. (Sigh.) I fear for the future of my blunt boy.

Nonetheless, his slightly-less-than-diplomatic call to action did have the desired affect. I’m here. Writing on my blog, about to post some of the humorous things that my children say. I can’t make glowing promises about how many times I’ll write in 2019, but it is something I’d like to start doing again. God has breathed his sanctifying breath of life into truths planted in my heart this past year, but the subsequent growth has been the slow, subtle type that doesn’t knock me upside the head shouting, “Write!! Write all these amazing insights down, you fool!!” Change is still happening, it just doesn’t feel very…blog worthy : )

Ah well, maybe that’s the topic that I need to wrestle with, when change seems boring…hmmmmm.

But my children, on the other hand, are never boring. Hopefully, you’ll get a laugh out of the way that they view of the world, our family and themselves. And if you don’t laugh, at least I’m sure to find Brenn and Jack, huddled around my computer, cackling away as they read their own statements about life.

So friends, happy 2019.  Enjoy : )


Meg: from across the room, “Mama I want (J)YOU!”
Me: walking over and picking her up in a big hug, “Oh baby, I want you too!”
Meg: looks at me with great candor and say, “NO Mama. I want JUICE!! …Not (J)YOU.” 
Ah. Well. Nice to know where I stand in the hierarchy


A beautiful teaching moment with Meg just backfired when, after a period of whiny demands to sit on my lap instead of playing with her little people toys I said, “Oh Meg, if you don’t play with your toys I might have to take them away” at which point she promptly walked over, scooped up an armful and went and dumped them in the trash. “THERE MAMA. I NO WANT THEM!!” 

Hmmmmmmm…..the future is looking….stubborn…. :P

 

When I prayed this morning and asked God to give me meaningful, loving conversations with my children today, I didn’t anticipate the answer to that prayer coming in the form of an explanation of why a game of “how many times can I lick my brother’s cheek before mom notices” while walking though the grocery store is an inappropriate use of one’s imagination….and mouth. Sigh. I need to be more specific in my prayers… 

 

Caught Meg in front of an open freezer door, with her little hand reaching for a popsicle. When I asked who told her she could have a popsicle she paused, looked down at the ground, then up at me and gravely said, “the Lord.” 

 

The conversation behind me:

B: Oh man! Oh man! I’m never going to make it!! (Followed by sounds of whimpering)
J: You can do it Brenn! Just hang on! 
B: I won’t! I really need to go!!!! 
(We pass a sign) 
J: Brenn! There’s a rest stop in 2 miles!! Hang on!! You’ll make it. 
B: (groans) I won’t. I just won’t. It’s too far. 
J: I need to go too, but I can hold on. So can you!
B: I’ll try, Jack. But I think it will be too late…

I felt like I was listening to a battlefield conversation between two wounded soldiers who had just sighted the rescue party in the distance (And yes, we made it too the rest stop in time :)

 

Meg was the first child downstairs this morning and her first words were, “it was Jack’s fault, mama. Jack’s fault, not mine.” …Dare I enquirer further?? 

 

A tearful Meg ran up to me…
Meg: “Mama! I was playing with Brenn and I got hurt!!” 
Me: (Looking for the injury) “Where baby? How did you get hurt?”
Meg: (Big poochy lip and crocodile tears) “Brenn told me NO! and so…my FEELINGS got hurt. They got hurt BAD!!” 
Hmmmm….already in touch with her emotional side.

 

Jack just said that he’d like to see the lion tear into a wild cantaloupe. Heheheh. He obviously meant antelope, but the image of a vegan lion was pretty funny…

 

My two youngest are currently stalking a bunny. Brenn’s current plan is to offer handfuls of grass as a bribe to jump into his lap. Well, I mean, it’s keeping them quiet and occupied so who am I to step in!

 

True stream-of-conscious conversation that just happened in my backseat. Note, Jack is reading during most of this until he randomly joins in for a brief, factual moment…

B: Squirrels are dumb. One just ran across the street! 
M: A cross? Jesus died on a cross today!!
B: No Meg, not Jesus. A squirrel will die today. He’ll get squashed, like a bug. 
M: Oh. (Pause) A bug bit me in my ear. 
B: Was it a firefly? 
M: No! It was a BUG! And it bit me! Now I have a bitch (bug+itch??) in my ear! 
B: Do you mean an itch? ITCH?? From a firefly? 
M: Yes! 
(Silence, then Jack looks up from his book.)
J: Some female lightning bugs shine their light in order to attract a male so that they can mate with them and then eat them. 
(Silence)
M: I like flashlights!! 
B: The baby at the fire works last night liked flashlights.
M: That baby liked me. 
B: Yep. 
(Then it stayed quiet in the car for a while, until Meg started singing about sleeping baseball gloves.)

 

Heard from the back of the car, “I NOT a selfish jerk! Mama!!! Jack is calling me a selfish jerk!! I not Mama! I a girl! I a GIRL!!!” ? Welp, life with big brothers is either going to break her or make her super resilient. (Also wanted to clarify that we did speak to Jack about his choice of words…)

 

I may or may not have just heard Paul hum the chorus of “How Far I’ll Go” from Moana.  Then he may or may not have immediately looked annoyed with himself ?#lifewithlittlegirls 
Update!! While typing this status he did it again followed by a quick, “darn it all!!!!” Hahah!

 

While hiking, I spotted a tree stump chewed down by a beaver. When I saw this I looked at Jack and Brenn and asked, “so, who did this!?” Brenn replies “a beaver” while Jack simultaneously answers “it wasn’t me!” Sigh. Am I that scary and unreasonable? That my son thinks he need to clarify that he is not, in fact, gnawing down trees!? 

 

I’m replying to a text and Brenn is creepily reading as I write. I say, “Brenn, stop reading over my shoulder. It’s weird!” Brenn moves slightly to the right and says, “Ok, I’ll read over your arm. OK? Is that OK?”

 

Heard between Meg and her 5 yr old cousin, Lily. 
Meg: I’m the doctor! Lily, come here. Be sick!
Lily: No!!
Meg: Please!?
Lily: No, I don’t want to play Doctor. I want to just play NORMAL HOUSE…. 
Meg: ….Ok….
Lily: …where I DIE…
Meg: …Ummmm…
Lily: (creepy whisper)…and then I turn into a GHOST and HAUNT the house.
Meg: (Pause) “MOM!!”

 

Faith in the maturity of an 8 year old son isn’t always measured in momentous ways. Usually it’s something seemingly small but has the potential to be disastrous….like when he promises (with an unnatural degree of conviction and confidence) that he absolutely can retrieve and pour the milk on his and his siblings cereal. “Please Mama, please. I can do this.”
Sigh.
It’s a new gallon…. So it’s safe to say that I am scared….

 

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