Well, when you put it that way ...

When Kendrie got up this morning and got herself dressed for school, I noticed what she was wearing: a black undershirt, light blue t-shirt, and royal blue sweat pants with a red stripe. I noticed because I knew they were having Valentines parties at school this afternoon, and that I would be there with my camera ... but of course, hoping she would wear a pink and red striped Hanna Andersson dress with matching tights was out of the question. She was ensconsed comfortably somewhere between "what not to wear, elementary school version" and "street urchin" .... but she was dressed, which was most important, so I decided not to fight it.

Tonight, we went out to dinner with our family for Brayden's birthday. (More on the fact my baby turned twelve years old today later .... for now, I'm too busy rafting down the river of denial to talk about it.) Kendrie asked me to take her to the bathroom at the restaurant, and when we got inside and I took a good look at her, I realized she had changed clothes.

One of my pet peeves is my kids changing clothes for no reason. Because Heaven forbid they hang anything back up and wear it again ... oh, no. Straight into the dirty laundry it goes. My mantra is: "Do you think I do laundry for the fun of it???" and my kids have had it burned into their little brains at this point in their lives, but still, with no real success.

I noticed Kendrie's change of clothes, and was about to launch into my lecture for the million and ONE time ......

"Kendrie, why did you change clothes before dinner? What was wrong with the outfit you had on? Do you think I do laundry for the fun of it?"

And she looked at me, like I was clearly clueless (which if I am, it's only because these kids have sucked every brain cell out of my head) and replied ....

"Mom. The other outfit didn't match."

Her new outfit??? A white undershirt, gray and purple t-shirt, and navy blue sweats.

So, yeah. I guess when she puts it *that* way ...... clears everything up, doesn't it?

Ungrateful

Kendrie and I were driving home from the mall just now, where I had just purchased her a new pair of tennis shoes. NOT because she had outgrown her old shoes, but because Kellen had outgrown *his* old shoes and heaven forbid one kid get new shoes in this house and not the other two. (Seriously -- I think we have some "fairness issues" to work on .....)

Anyway! We were talking about birthdays and Kendrie mentioned that in only nine more birthdays it will be time for her to leave the house.

I started teasing her that no, she wasn't ever going to be allowed to leave.

This is how the conversation went:

Kendrie: "Of course I have to leave, I have to go to college."

Me: "No, you can live at home while you are in college."

Kendrie: "Well then I'm going to get married and leave."

Me: "No, I've already decided that you and your husband can live with us. You're never leaving."

Kendrie: "My husband isn't going to want to live with you!"

Me: "Oh yes he will. It'll be fine."

Kendrie: "Mom. We are going to have a lot better things to do than sit around with a bunch of old people, feeding you applesauce."

Did I mention I had just bought her a new pair of shoes? And THAT is the thanks I get???!?!!

Pin the tail on Joseph

A few months ago, our church hired a new youth pastor when the previous youth pastor decided to try his hand as an elementary teacher. (Ironically, his own children are homeschooled ….. but that’s not even part of this story, so why am I already off on a tangent???)

Children’s church takes place during “big church”, for kids in first through fifth grades. To be honest, last year it was geared more towards the younger children and my own kids didn’t particularly enjoy it. So we had a tendency to skip it. A lot. And go straight to Sunday school instead.

Last weekend Kendrie spent the night with a friend and went to Children’s church the next morning. It was her first time attending since the new youth pastor took over. At dinner tonight she was telling us that she really likes the new pastor and about the American Idol spoof they did during the service.

She said, as tactfully as is possible when you are nine years old, “I’m not saying that learning about Jesus isn’t interesting. Just that it’s more fun for kids when they play games and do fun stuff like that.”

This is the conversation that ensued:

Kellen: “Exactly! Games are always better!”

Kendrie: “I know. I think this new guy has it figured out.”

Brayden: “I got completely ripped off that he came after I was in the sixth grade and I can’t go.”

Kendrie: “Yeah, you would like it now.”

Kellen: “I wonder if they’ll play games next week, too. I know, we should play capture the flag!”

Kendrie: “That would be awesome!”

Kellen: “No, I know --- flag football!”

I said, sarcastically, “Yeah, only instead of running with footballs, you could run with little baby Jesus tucked under your arm.”

And Kellen replied: “Yes! And at each end you could have a manger you are trying to get to.”

Kendrie: “And the people trying to rip your flag off could be the Roman soldiers.”

Kellen: “And the first team to get baby Jesus in the manger wins!!”

I think based on our own children, it is very clear why we haven’t been asked to teach Sunday School, don’t you?

As follows

Proof that it's time for the holiday break to be O.V.E.R. and my children should go back to school? Two conversations. Actually, one conversation and one (incredibly rude and ill-mannered) comment.

As follows:

Kellen: "Mom, imagine you are a slave."

Me: "And that would be different from my life ... how????"

Kellen: "Mom, seriously. Imagine you are a slave and you have to do everything for us."

Me: "Again, not really seeing the difference."

Kellen: "Mom! Slaves do their work because they have to! You work for us because we're your kids! And, um ..... well ..... you have to."

Glad to know at least ONE child has seen the light.

And the rude comment that has me already setting the alarm clock for bright and early tomorrow morning?

As follows:

Brayden, who has been watching a boatload of TLC and Discovery with me this break: "How come that Duggar lady has eighteen kids and you never see her lose her temper on tv, and we only have three, and our mom yells all the time???"

Yeah, setting the alarm clocks for EARLY tomorrow morning, I am.

We love Weird Al. Platonically, of course.

The other night, when I drove Kellen and his friend to the concert, he asked me to play the Weird Al parody “The Ebay Song” on my ipod (through the car speakers). Again and again and again. After about the fourth time, his friend turned to him and said, “Wow, you really like that song, don’t you?” And Kellen replied, “Yes, it’s my favorite song ever. I love it so much I’m going to have it played at my wedding.”

And all I could do was sit back and wonder about what kind of future daughter in law would even allow that ….. one who wears a wedding dress from Wal-Mart and carries a wine cooler in a beer cozy down the aisle instead of flowers and serves pigs in a blanket and pork rinds at the reception?

On second thought, that sounds like my kind of wedding.

PS. You guys are GENIUS! It never occurred to me that I could simply glue little faces on cardboard cut-outs for the diorama. And someone suggested diorama-ing the parking lot scene, so pretty much all I’ll have to buy is two matchbox cars, and put some gray paper down on the bottom of the box …. Thank goodness. I had visions of me wasting an entire day driving to every hobby store in town looking for stupid miniature vampire dolls.

Why would I eat there?

So, driving in the car with Brayden yesterday, her voice piped up from the back seat, and the following conversation took place:

Brayden: Mom, what's I.B.S. ??

Me: Irritable Bowel Syndrome

Brayden: What's that?

Me: Well, I'm pretty sure it's when your stomach cramps, and you poop a lot. Or can't poop at all.

Brayden: That's disgusting.

Me: People can't really help it, it's just something that happens.

Brayden: No, I mean that's disgusting that a restaurant would do that.

Me: Huh? What?

Brayden: That restaurant back there, ::insert name of favorite local BBQ joint:: has on their sign "Best IBS in town". Why would we want to eat there if it's going to make us sick?

And you know, it took me just a minute to figure it out.

Me: RIBS, Brayden, best RIBS in town. The "r" is missing.

So very proud

I’ll be the first to admit that over the years, I’ve said (and said in front of my children) a few things that probably aren’t as nice as they could be. One of my favorites, of course, is when I allow my kids (only in the car, and only with the windows rolled up) to call bad drivers, or people who take up two parking spaces, “jackass”. No, not something to be particularly proud of ……. But what can I say? I’m hardly perfect as a parent.

I also downloaded "Baby Got Back" off the internet and let my kids listen to it. FAR from appropriate, but they laugh hysterically whenever they hear it, which makes me giggle, too.

Another of my favorites is what I said to my kids the first time they questioned why their dad and I make them wear bicycle helmets, when some of the other kids in the neighborhood don’t. I merely looked at them and said, “Well, I guess their parents don’t love them as much as we love you.” Simple …. And to the point.

I took Kendrie to the doctor this afternoon for her 9-yr well child visit. No illnesses, no complaints …. Just listening to the lungs, checking for scoliosis, open your mouth and say Ah kind of stuff. In an attempt to verify home safety and what have you, the doctor was asking Kendrie about her lifestyle (assuming 9-yr olds actually HAVE a lifestyle). He asked if she played any sports, watched a lot of tv, buckled her seatbelt whenever she was in the car, and if she wore a helmet whenever she rode a bike.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Your mom and dad always make you wear a helmet?” he questioned again.

“Tell the doctor what we say about kids who don’t wear helmets,” I said smugly, thinking how funny it would be when Kendrie told him the bit about the parents not loving them.

But before she could open her mouth, Kellen blurted out, “We call them jackasses!!!!”

Ahhhh, yes.

So very proud.

Actually, the best part was when the doctor simply smiled and said, "In our family, we call them organ donors."

They are ganging up on me now

Last night, Kellen and Kendrie and I were in the van together, driving to (where else? The black hole of my life) soccer practice. Out of the blue, Kendrie asked, “Mom, when are we moving back to Georgia?”

I sort of sighed to myself, because I had hoped we were past that --- past the missing of friends so much that she wants to pack up and go back. Right after we moved to Oklahoma, she told us constantly that she wanted to move “home” to Georgia, but I hadn’t heard it in a while, so I had hoped she was finally feeling settled here.

“Honey,” I replied, “we’re not moving back to Georgia. Oklahoma is our home for good now. We’re never moving again.”

“Pssschnnghhhh!” (You know that noise? That goofy, nasally noise that people make when they’re trying to get a point across? Yeah, that was the noise Kendrie made just then, even if I don’t know how to spell it.) “Maybe YOU’RE not moving back, but I am! As soon as I turn 16 and get a car, I’m out of here!”

She was laughing when she said it, so I don’t think it was anything sinister … just that she was making clear the point that her heart still lies in Georgia (Hello, Nicholas! I’m looking at you!!)(Even though, I have to admit, Matt is growing on me more and more every day.)(And how funny is it that Kendrie refers to them as "her Georgia boyfriend" and "her Oklahoma boyfriend."??)(Good grief, do nine-year olds understand the concept of bigamy???)

“Well, you can stay here, but I am GONE when I turn 16!”Then, she said, in a sheepish little voice, “But, um, I’ll need you to give me directions.”

I was taking a deep breath, to try and explain to her about “good” friends and “old” friends, and how I’m so happy she still feels strong ties to her old school and old friends, but that, in all reality …. Sixteen is a life-time away. While I certainly hope she is still in touch, and still has fond memories of Georgia and our time there, I doubt she will still feel like relocating once that time comes. Instead, I want her to be entrenched here, with her new friends, and her time with family, and to be happy and content with her Oklahoma life. It's hard to explain to a nine-year old that they won't always feel like they feel now, but I guess I needed to try.

Kellen, however, beat me to the punch.

He said to her, “Kendrie, things will be SO different by the time you are sixteen!”

“Ahhh, good!” I thought, “He *gets* it. Maybe coming from him, the concept of faraway and long-away will seem more reasonable. I’m so glad to know I’ve got such a reasonable, practical son.”

Then he burst my bubble with the following words: “By the time you’re sixteen, you’ll know how to read a map! You won’t need mom to give you directions!!”

Quote of the Day

Mom: "OK, you kids realize that since Dad is still .... um .... "indisposed" .... (ie, puking his heels up) that we're going to have to fake these pictures again later with him in them, right?"

Brayden: "What do you mean? There's only one first day of school."

Mom: "I know, but we always take pictures of you guys with Dad on the first day of school, so we'll have to re-do them."

Kellen: "How can we re-do the first day of school?"

Mom: "Well, it won't actually BE the first day of school again. We'll just put the same clothes on again, maybe this weekend, and PRETEND it's the first day of school so we can take the pictures."

Kendrie: "That's ok, Mom, you can just photo-scrap him in."

It’s probably in Websters by now. As a verb.

Kristie: “So, what was your favorite part of being at the lake last weekend?

Kendrie: “Um, probably the you-tubing.”

Kristie: “You tubing?”

Kendrie, rolling eyes: “You know, when we hooked the tube up to the boat and Uncle Cliff pulled us around in circles??”

Kristie: “Oh! You mean INNER tubing!”

Kendrie: “Whatever.”

At least not in **OUR** real life

Kendrie: “You know how in that movie, The Three Ninjas, the boys are brothers and ninjas at the same time?”

Kristie: “Yes”

Kendrie: “What I noticed is that even though they are brothers, and they fight a lot, and argue about the best way to do things, and get on each other’s nerves, they always make up and like each other again. They always talk about things and decide what to do together and agree on how to solve their problems and stay friends.”

Kristie: “Right”

Kendrie: “I don’t think that happens in real life.”

Overheard

Overheard last night before bed:

Kendrie, to Brayden: "Well, it's important that you like them a lot because you are stuck together in sickness and in H - E - double toothpicks."

Eddie Who?

Yesterday, I took the kids to the public library after school so Kellen could look up a book for an upcoming “I Love My Country” report due in school. He had to select one famous American veteran to report on and have at least two different sources of information for the report. Kellen selected (with much persuasion by Blaine) Audie Murphy --- we had pulled an article off the internet (how fabulous is that Wikipedia guy, anyway?) and I thought a copy of Mr. Murphy’s war memoir To Hell and Back would make a great second source.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember the actual title of the book --- and did you know, they don’t have those big card catalogs in the library anymore? Now it’s all on computer, but I’m such a dinosaur I didn’t know which set of computers was which, or how to access the software, and then I couldn’t figure out what the second number was for (whatever happened to the good ole’ Dewey Decimal system???) so by the time I found the book on the aisle, it had turned into quite an adventure.

I was telling Blaine about it at dinner because I felt so stupid at the library, having to ask the librarian for help not once, not twice, but three different times. Blaine asked, “What book were you looking for?” and I replied, “To Hell and Back, but I wasn’t sure if it would be non-fiction, or autobiography, or biography, or history, or what. I finally just did a search for Audie Murphy until it showed up.”

At which point Kendrie said, “Eddie Murphy? What was *he* doing in the war?”

And I laughed and said, “No, honey, not Eddie Murphy, a man named AUDIE Murphy. He was a WWII veteran and hero and that’s who Kellen is doing his report on.”

And Kendrie looked at me and smiled, and said, “Oh, thank goodness, I was just fixing to ask you ….”

And I sat, and waited, for whatever cute, adorable thing was going to come out of her mouth, maybe about the donkey from Shrek, or Dr. Doolittle, or whatever precious, precious, precious comment she was going to make, when she continued ….

“If they had a BIG MOMMA’S HOUSE in the war!” and then she cracked herself up.

Of course, what makes it even funnier is that it wasn’t even Eddie Murphy in that movie, it was Martin Lawrence. My poor, confused white child.

(Susan and Jeanette, you might have guessed it, she said she learned about the movie from Kobi!)

Kendrie Strikes Again

Kendrie: "Here, Mom, I drew a picture for you and Daddy."

Kristie: "Oh, honey, that’s nice! Thank you .... I love it!"

Kendrie: "See, it’s me and you and him standing on a hill with rainbows around us and love in our hearts."

Kristie: "Why yes, I can see. That’s me on the left -- thank you for drawing Mommy so skinny. And you in the middle, and Daddy on the other side. But why did you make Daddy’s hair so long? And black? He doesn’t have black hair."

Kendrie: "Yeah, but I couldn’t find a gray marker."

Freudian Snack

Kristie: "Kendrie, I just went to the grocery store today -- I'm sure you can find *something* in the pantry to eat."

Kendrie: "But, mom, you didn't buy any of the vagina sausages that I like!"

(pause)

Kristie: "Do you mean Vienna sausages?"

Kendrie: "Yeah, whatever."

Because they’re compassionate, like a pack of rabid, snarling wolverines

A boy (although shoot, I guess he’s a man now, although I hate to say that, because it makes me sound old, too) with whom I went to high school, runs a local ministry program that is part wilderness camp, part retreat facility, part youth outreach ministry group. Their camp facilities are on 40 acres, with a lake, about twenty minutes outside of town. This Christmas, they are hosting their first-ever “Christmas in the Barn” event, a combination live nativity and hayride, with lights, decorations, refreshments and storytelling. The entire evening is free of charge, and if you live locally, you should really consider going. I took the kids last night and I look forward to this becoming an annual holiday tradition for the Escoe family.

Now, although they certainly didn’t ask me to plug them on this site, I wanted to give you that little bit of background in order to tell you a story that shows off the empathy and kindness and caring of my children, my sensitive, compassionate children, because oh, they make me so proud. {wipes tear}

We were driving out to "Christmas in the Barn" last night, and like I said, it’s about ten or twelve miles outside of town. Out in the country. The very, very, very DARK country. Although the roads are paved and travel is certainly safe, there are no streetlights, or stoplights, or basically lights of any kind. Add to that the fact it was foggy here last night, and let’s just say it was two shades darker than pitch black outside.

As I was driving, I kept hitting my high-beams, hoping to cut through the fog a little better. Even though I know, even though I was TAUGHT in high school Drivers Ed, that you should never use your high-beams in the fog. Despite knowing that tried and true fact, I kept hitting the beams, thinking maybe *this time* I would be able to see a little better. The kids were looking out the windows, oohing and aahing over how dark it was, and commented on me hitting my brights every few seconds. So then I said, “Hey, you want to see something really cool? Watch this.” And I turned off my headlights completely.

They were simultaneously thrilled and freaked out a little because when I say it was pitch black, I mean, it was pitch black. So pitch black that I even got a little claustrophobic about driving like that, even for only a few seconds. So I hit the lights back on, telling them it wasn’t safe to drive without lights -- because you know me, everything is an educational opportunity! (she said sarcastically)

This is the conversation that followed:

Kendrie: “Why can’t you drive with your lights off? Are you more worried about driving off the side of the road or about hitting a bear?”

Kristie: “Um, I think hitting a raccoon would be more likely, but mainly I’m worried that if I can’t see anything, that means nobody can see me, either. Other cars wouldn’t be able to see us if I don’t have any lights on, so it’s just not safe.”

Kellen: “It’s not safe for people to be out in the road in the dark, either. Mrs. B (his previous teacher in Georgia) told us that on Halloween night, she was driving somewhere, and some trick or treater just ran out in the road right in front of her!”

Brayden: “No!”

Kellen: “Yes, and she said it was a good thing she was going slow, or she might have hit him with her car!”

Brayden: “That’s terrible!”

Kellen: “I know! Think of all the candy it would have wasted!!!”

The Family That Chats Together ….

Another PS. I think I mis-led a few of you into thinking I had gotten a complaint from Cheryl or Jenny, when that is the farthest thing from the truth. They are both wonderful people (with great senses of humor) and my only wish is that I lived closer to either of them so we could visit more often. The complaints have been from people who feel the need to tell me there are moms on this earth who have lost their children (Like I don’t know? Like I haven’t attended the funerals myself?) who would give anything for what I have and that I should quit complaining about my own kids so much. I just wanted to clear that up, in case anyone misunderstood what I meant. But you're right. Pooey on those people anyway.

********************************

Sitting around the table this morning, I’m not even sure how, but the subject of girls’ bathrooms vs. boys’ bathrooms came up, and Kellen mentioned that at Kendrie’s new school, it will probably confuse everyone when she goes in the girls’ bathroom since she is such a tomboy.

Then he commented, “If you went in the boy’s bathroom, people would think you’re pooping all the time because you’d go in the stall every time.”

I replied with: “Do you have stalls only at your school, or do you use a urinal?”

Kellen: “A what???”

Kristie: “A urinal. You know, one of those white things on the wall that you pee into.”

Kellen (pause): “Oh, I get it! A urinal! Because it’s got URINE, ALL over it!”

At which point Blaine cracked up laughing, and I realized two things simultaneously:

1. We have very inappropriate breakfast conversations, and

2. They do not pay the custodians at my kids’ school NEAR enough money.

At least she's honest

Kendrie: "Mom, hurry! Come and see what I did!"

Kristie: "Hang on just one second, I’m putting on my makeup."

Kendrie: "You don’t need make up!"

Kristie, "Awwww, that’s so sweet. Because Mommy is so pretty already?"

Kendrie: "No, because I want you to hurry up."

We are Obviously Clueless

Scene: Dinner at a restaurant



Kendrie: I need to go use the bathroom.

Kristie: You just went to the bathroom.

Kendrie: I know. I need to go again.

Kristie: Can’t you hold it?

Kendrie: No, I need to go now.

Blaine: Now? Right now? I just took you five minutes ago.

Kendrie: Dad. I have a platter problem!

Who are we talking about?

Kristie: So, kids, what did you learn in school today?

Kellen: Mom, did you know they used to call Elvis Presley the King?

Kristie: Yeah, I did know that. (pause) You learned that in school today?

Kellen: No, I just learned it.

Kristie, {thinking well, might as well try to squeeze in a little pop culture trivia as well}: That’s right, Elvis was called the King. But do you guys know who was called the King of Pop?

Brayden: Pop like soda?

Kristie: No, pop music.

Kendrie: What is pop music?

Kristie: You know, popular music … like, rock and roll …..

Kellen: Like pop rocks, the candy?

Kristie: No, like top 40 stuff …. Current music …. Just, you know …. pop {finishes weakly, realizing her kids listen to Radio Disney and Monsters of Rock, pretty much exclusively, and they have no idea what "pop" actually means} Anyway, it was Michael Jackson.

Brayden: Who?

Kristie: Michael Jackson

Kellen: I thought he was a basketball player.

Kristie: No, that’s Michael Jordan. I’m talking about Michael JACKSON.

Kendrie: I thought he was a president.

Kristie: No, you’re thinking of ANDREW Jackson. I’m talking about Michael Jackson. It was funny, really, because he was the King of Pop, and Elvis was the King, and Elvis had a daughter named Lisa-Marie and she MARRIED Michael Jackson ---- so the daughter of the King married the King of Pop, isn’t that weird? …. I wonder if they had stayed married, what their kids would have been called?

Moment of silence

Kellen: Who are we talking about?

Kristie: Never mind.