Beanisms

I have to write down (i.e. copy and paste from my personal facebook) all the ridiculous stuff my six-year-old says before I forget and I have nothing to blackmail him with. Here we go... 

My sister's dog was just neutered last week. My eldest son, who is six, had some questions.
Him: Why is Aubie wearing that cone? 
Me: Because his boy part got cut off. 
Him: What?! I would die! 
Me: Well... he still has his wiener. They just had to cut off his balls. 
Him (totally serious, by the way): Are you sure his butt didn't swallow his balls? 

Me: (in traffic) Come on over, douche canoe! I'm surrounded by idiots! Oh... Don't say the naughty words mom says, kids!
Him: Then don't SAY them, MOM. 

Him: Mom... Don't speak Spanish.
Me: What? Why? 
Him: The new girl, Fernanda, doesn't know what the heck I'm saying. She takes her books out at the wrong time and I'm like hey! Wrong time, Fernanda! But she's like... Spanish. So, don't speak Spanish or you won't know what I'm saying. 
Me: BAHAHAHA!

Me: Do you like my new shoes, buddy? 
Him: Mom, you are so stylish. 

Him: Did you know there are people in this world that don't want kids?!
Me: Really? Why not?
Him: Because they buy cars with only two doors!

Him: Mom, you know what's really stupid? 
Me: No, what?
Him: People sleeping in [Asia] when they don't live there. 
Me: .....yes.

Him: Mom... it is not okay to poop in the bathtub. 
Me: .....????

Him: Guess what mom said I can say?
Sister: What's that?
Him: Oh my gosh!!
Sister: Oh my gosh?
Him: Yeah, like, OH MY GOSH WE'RE GOING TO DDDIIIEEE!!!!

Him: Look at this Halo (as in the video game) guy over here!
Me: Oh, that's cute!
Him: MOM. It is NOT cute. It's awesome... (Sigh)

Me: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it...
Him: Stop!
Me: You don't think my singing is cool?
Him: It's beautiful, but it is NOT cool.

Me: It's time for bed, dude. Seriously. 
Him: I will sleep when my heart tells me it's tired!

PC Laptops Commercial: "... because we love you!"
Him: WHAT?! Fix 'puter guys don't love people! Uggggghhhhh!

Him: Were you little when you married dad?
Me: Little???
Him: Well, not little... medium sized? Were you?

Bean got a to-go style barf bag when we left the hospital after a minor surgery. He never used it, so I threw it away. Then this ensued...
Him: Can I eat the rest of my candy in bed? 
Me: No, I don't really feel like cleaning up your barf in the middle of the night. You can have a cheese stick or you can just go to bed. 
Him: Mooooommmm! I. HAVE. A. BARF. BAG. 
Me: I threw it away, you didn't use it!
Him: WHAT?! I never barfed in it! Seriously!?! I could have used that! 
Me: (blank stare)

Me: We aren't leaving your room until you've cleaned the whole thing. 
Him: Mom, you're annoying me.

Husband: Do you want some burrito? 
Him: Oh my gosh, I told you to stop speaking spanish!

I only scrolled back to December of last year, but I figured these were enough gems to get me through his first date. You're welcome.

Christmas from Asia

The last couple weeks have been a whole bunch of crazy. There have been ups and downs... as is life, isn't it? Since I am a woman, I like to blame the vast majority of my madness on my lady business. I mean, men think we're crazy, why not use it to our advantage? Am I right? Even though I think I am entitled to a little crazy now and then, I think a lot of people are giving me much more credit than I deserve.

A lady in my neighborhood, whom I'm told is dealing with her own demons anyway, has been overheard telling people how horribly I'm doing. I've spent a grand total of maybe ten minutes with this woman, but she knows me well... or at least she thinks she does. A friend of mine, whom this lady told I was doing so badly, assured her that I am fine. I'm more than fine... I'm doing pretty well considering the circumstances. She was insistent that I am not. 

So, yeah, Husband is deployed and this is our first Christmas apart. We've been married almost seven years so it's actually kind of a miracle we've skated it this long. Birthdays and anniversaries have been missed as well as a few less important (to me) holidays over the course of our marriage. This might be my first Husband-less Christmas, but it's not my first rodeo.

Luckily because Husband is in Asia instead of the desert, we can FaceTime everyday. We DO FaceTime everyday. The kids get to see him often enough that we don't really miss too much. Husband also got to watch our entire Christmas present-opening extravaganza this morning as you can see above (while I tried to get as many pictures amidst the chaos as possible). I had to stick The Wee in his high chair to save him from attacking Daddy until the big boys were done and then I opened all his presents for him because he didn't give a crap. Husband wasn't there physically, but he was there. He saw everything. He laughed at Bean's reactions and tried to get Cakes' attention when he started wandering or spacing out. He sent me a few things that I opened with just he and I alone in my bedroom, too. One of which was this...

It's a bracelet with puzzle pieces (signifying Cakes' autism, as does the autism awareness bracelet below it) that says "Warrior Mom". I opened it and I cried. He told me that I deserved it and that I was an amazing mom... which is something that, honestly, I long to hear most days when I'm running on empty. Even though I do run on empty sometimes, it doesn't mean I'm incapable. It doesn't mean I'm simply enduring instead of living. Sometimes I'm just exhausted being both mom and dad, but I really wish people would stop assuming that I'm doing so horribly.

There have been people who've lifted my spirits in small ways and I appreciate them more than they can know. I've had a couple people insist on taking my kids so I could have a night off. I've had the snow shoveled from my driveway. I've had treats delivered to my door on several occasions and every single one of them was both needed and appreciated. These little acts of kindness are what keep my spirits up and, in fact, keep me doing better than just "okay". Did I scream into my couch cushion a couple mornings ago when Bean was stressing me out? Absolutely. Twice. But sometimes, something like that is all I need to feel better.

I'm still human; I still need to complain sometimes or cuss at bad drivers or scream into my couch cushions, but I will persevere every single time. I might be a little bit crazy (I think most military spouses are to some degree), but I'm still kicking ass and taking names. What I'm trying to say is, don't underestimate me. Don't underestimate people like me. I'm doing better than you may think (or even more than my late night facebook statuses portray me to be) and even though I miss Husband more than I can even put into words, I will still run over a stroller any day of the week if I have to, to show you who's boss. Run and tell that.

Boys, dude. Boys.

Look how adorable my kids are, dude. I have to give a shout out to FotoFly for the super rad pictures and The Hippie Chick Boutique (who is also my rad friend and fellow military wife) for the super cute shirts that say "All I want for Christmas is Daddy home!". So much rad is wrapped up into this one little picture. And do I even have to mention the miracle that all three of them are not only smiling, but looking at the camera?! Amazing doesn't begin to describe it.

There is a HUGE part of me that is not only excited to have these, but relieved as well. Relieved, you ask? Well, let me tell you a little story.

A couple years ago, Bean (my oldest) fell and knocked his two front teeth on our kitchen floor. We didn't really think much of it. He got a bit of a bloody lip out of it and we hugged him and told him to walk it off and that was that. Sometime later (I'm not sure how much, really), his two front teeth started changing color. I just started brushing the crap out of them thinking it was bad brushing habits. His homies at school were pointing out the odd color of his teeth and I told him his friends were just jealous they weren't as awesome as he was... because that makes the most sense, right? Right.

Fast forward to a few days ago. I sent Bean off to kindergarten as usual. He is walked home by two older boys in the neighborhood from the bus stop everyday, but this particular day I hear a TON of kids at my door as I'm walking up the stairs from the basement to greet him. He's standing over the railing looking at me and 5 or 6 kids are frantically yelling unintelligibly over each other from my door. I look at Bean and notice a black spot in his mouth. As I get closer, I see one of his two front teeth (which were NOT loose, by the way - yes, I've been checking!) is MISSING. Not only is one of them missing, the other one looks like this...

That junk is hanging out, root and all. I yell, "WHERE IS YOUR TOOTH?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR TEETH?!?!"

He calmly replies, "It got knocked out" as though it was an everyday occurrence. I finally get all the kids to take turns telling me what happened and from what I gathered, he was standing on the bus and got told by the driver to sit down. In the process of trying sit down, he slips and smacks his mouth on the seat in front of him and knocks the tooth out. No one knows where the first one went, but apparently it was pretty bloody and the bus driver stopped to clean him up.

I'm now faced with trying to figure out what to do about that wonky tooth. It was REALLY loose and the root was out on the one side. Ironically, I was in the process of getting our dental insurance in order. Since Husband is deployed, I have to fax in my Power of Attorney along with a bunch of paperwork, but haven't had anything finalized yet. Even so, I needed to see a dentist. I wanted to make sure his jaw was okay and see what needed to be done about all this.

I call a local pediatric dentist and of course, they're closed. Barely. The dentist's cell phone number was listed on the voice mail for emergencies, so I called him in a panic. He only answers "Hello?" and I had forgotten his name and had forgotten to write it down so I reply ridiculously, "Hi... umm... are you a dentist? Because I forgot your name already if you are.". Luckily he was cool and he laughed. I told him our story and he had us come in an hour later to check it out.

After some x-rays, laughing gas and an episode of Phineas and Ferb, Bean had his tooth pulled. Come to find out, the first smack he incurred on our tile when he was two or three had cracked both his teeth in half and the odd color they'd become was because they were dead. Yes, it's true. So, because of them being dead, they popped out easily during this exciting school bus adventure. Bean is only five and his adult teeth are nowhere near ready to come out, so the dentist guessed he'd be toothless for the next two years.

So, I guess he's going to be wanting his two front teeth for another couple of Christmases. He's pumped because his friend said he looks like a pirate... at least he's a cute pirate.

Adorable. Freaking adorable.

This is Bean. He is five. Today I'm going to share with you the ridiculously adorable (but mostly ridiculous) things he says wrong, but I don't have the heart to correct. I know that someday he will be all big and smelly and teenagery, so I'm choosing to cherish this junk as long as possible.

I'm going to have to spell the incorrect words phonetically... both because they aren't real words and so you can get the idea of what it is he's saying. There are a few cute phrases as well. Here we go...

1. Brave-orite (Favorite): "Batman is my brave-orite!"
2. Moozed (Used): "I moozed the crayons at school."
3. Zizzors (Scissors): "I need to cut with the zizzors."
4. Nember (Remember): "I nember him from my old school."
5. Tah-got (Forgot): "I almost tah-got my coat."
6. Reg-yer (Regular): "I want some reg-yer milk." (as opposed to chocolate milk)
7. Mame (Name): "What's your mame?"
8. "I don't know idea."
9. "I don't want to listen to Christmas season right now!" (Christmas music)
10. Mare-cuh (America): "Look at this Captain mare-cuh!"

I know there are a couple more that he says that crack me up, but my brain stops working after 9 PM, of which it is. I will correct him soon... but let me enjoy this for a minute! Jeez.

My spazzy sleeping habits

I have always had a problem with sleep walking and talking in my sleep. My dad said that when I was little, you could walk into my room at 11:00 PM and on the DOT, I'd start talking. I don't really know why, but it's just one of those super awesome things I do.

After I had my three boys, I did another awesome thing in my sleep. I'd usually have them sleep in our bed for the first couple weeks after being born until we got them on a schedule. Every single time I'd finally move them out of our bed with all three of them, I'd "wake up" in the middle of the night (aka sleep walking) ripping the blankets and sheets off our bed looking for the babies. I'd be freaking the freak out, screaming "Where's the baby?!" all the while Husband was sleepily trying to get me to chill out. I usually would snap out of my sleep walking frenzy and lay back down.

Another time, I was really into a ridiculous facebook game called Cafe World. It was short lived, but when you're a stay at home mom and Husband is traveling 5+ days a week (at the time anyway), you do what you can to keep your mind busy. I'm not proud of it. Once while Husband was actually home, I arose amidst my slumber and ran to the top of the stairs screaming "They're here! They're here! They have guns, they're going to rob us!" which obviously shot Husband out of bed in a panic. He ran to where our gun was locked up and loaded it and eased his way quietly downstairs to check on what I'd be screaming about, all the while I'd laid back down and was fast asleep. When he came back after evaluating the lack of people with guns, he asked me what my problem was. Turns out I was dreaming my virtual Cafe was being robbed and I'd acted it out while totally passed out.

Last night, Bean woke up to bad dreams and came to sleep in my bed. He took Husband's empty spot next to me and we both went back to sleep. At some point I had a dream that there were TWO Beans. One was real and the other was an imposter of the spy persuasion. I'm not sure what exactly I'd done in my sleep, but I woke myself up holding the sides of Bean's sleeping face and had been yelling something at him, though I'm not sure what. I was startled awake by the sound of my own yelling. I have no idea how Bean slept through it, but I'm glad he did. I really need a reality show of just me sleeping. I'm pretty sure I'd be rich.

Beanisms

My five-year-old says some CRAZY junk. I had to document said junk for future blackmail as well as for your entertainment. So thus begins the Beanisms (at least the ones I can remember, anyway)...

Upon seeing a wiener dog: That thing is so cute, I might DIE. 

Me: You know you're awesome, right?
Bean: Yeah. I know you're beautiful, 'specially for dad. 

Bean: Mom, do you like helping kids? 
Me: Yes, sometimes, why?
Bean: Can you help one now? (Long pause and a sigh) It's me. 

My sister is watching my kids while I'm taking a night off. Bean rubs up against her unshaven leg...
Bean: I think you might be turning into a boy!
Sister: Why?!
Bean: Because you have hair on your legs!

Me: You're my favorite five-year-old.
Bean: Ugghh... I KNOW.

I was crying (happily) because some one anonymously paid to fix our car.
Bean: Did some one die? 

I got home from a party I did for the direct sales company I'm a consultant for. Bean shows me the above picture as he's cuddle up next to the cute, blonde teenage girl who babysat him and yells, "MOM! It's me and her! She told me she LIKES me! She's my lady!"

We pulled off the freeway to go to my parents for dinner. A homeless guy was standing next to the exit holding a sign asking for money. I said nothing, as this was a common occurrence at our last military base in Las Vegas. Bean: Looks like that guy needs a job. 

I'm certain I'll recall more or add more as he says more random stuff. So, this list will probably grow over time. For now, that's all I've got. He's so rad.

Holy. Crap.

Bean is terrified of the dark. We've only lived at our current residence since August, so I think he's still getting used to the fact that he not only has a new bedroom, but that he no longer shares it with Cakes like he did at our last house. He's actually asked for bunk beds several times because then Cakes can sleep with him again and keep him company. We'll only be here until next August, so I'm just hoping that he'll get to the point where it's not a big deal.

Since Husband left, Bean has found his way upstairs (his room is in the basement) and into my bed on several occasions when he's had a bad dream or heard a weird noise. He sleeps like a freaking crazy person, so I've grown accustomed to starting my nights out with a pillow laying vertically next to me so that if he does get in my bed, he only kicks the pillow instead of me. It's not ideal, but it's better than getting throat chopped by a little foot.

Usually when Bean does come upstairs though, he is loud. He's a stomper and he stomps wherever he goes, but especially when he's tired. Plus his stomping usually includes a loud, whiny "Moooooom! I had bad dreeeeeeams!!!!". Last night, however, was different.

Around 5:30 this morning, The Wee started crying from his crib. He's slowly getting better about sleeping through the night, so this is about the time he wakes for a new diaper and a bottle. I usually lay there for a couple minutes trying to get the motivation to tend to him. This morning as I laid there trying to gain said motivation, I open my eyes only to see Bean wide-eyed and inches from my face, staring me down. I jumped out of my bed quicker than I think I have ever jumped out of it in my life. He scared the CRAP out of me. I stood there next to my bed for a second watching him as he continue to lay there silently staring at me. I was too stressed out to make sure he was breathing in that moment, so I ran to make The Wee's bottle.

As I'm making sure The Wee is taken care of, Bean starts chanting in a weird, monotone voice, "Five. Two. Seven. Five. Two. Seven." at which point I almost lost it. I literally thought, "I should stop watching American Horror Story because I'm fairly certain my son is now possessed.". I walk into my room slowly to see what he's doing. He's facing the clock as the time changes. He now starts chanting "Five. Two. Eight. Five. Two. Eight.". It was just the time! 

Holy. Crap. I don't know how he not only made it upstairs quietly, but climbed into bed without me noticing. Consider this the scariest morning I've had in a LONG time.

Hide your kittens.

This evening has been one of those times where I want to punch a whole liter of kittens. Bean has been a mouthy punk and it's disappointing because I've gone out of my way to be extra gooey and reinforce him positively all day.

You see, ever since Husband left for Asia, Bean has had an intense separation anxiety. He has improved slightly over the last two months, but he has days where he just suddenly decides to stick it to the man (a.k.a. me). What's interesting is when he gets in these funks, he also refuses to talk to Husband.

This episode began when Bean arrived home from school. He came in the door and decided he didn't want to do homework. He missed school yesterday due to a stomach bug over the weekend, so we had to get on top of it to be sure to catch up since his teacher thinks he needs more homework than my 16 year old brother. As he's writing the numbers two and seven over and over, he looks at me and says "The jerkface kid at school told me to call my friends names, so I missed recess!" I told him it wasn't cool to call people names, especially if jerkfaces said it was. I also told him to stop calling the jerkface a jerkface and if I heard he was being naughty again, I'd wash the naughty words out of his mouth with soap.

This threw him into hysterics. I'm talking, he slammed a couple drawers and the pantry door. As calmly as I could, I told him to knock it off... "or else!". He then screamed in a high pitched, demonic voice, "I DO WHAT I WANT!". This initially created three reactions in me simultaneously. The first was, of course, kitten punching. The second was the urge to laugh. The third was, "Crap. I need to stop saying that out loud."

The night continued with a bunch of his mouthy junk and a bunch of me trying to calm him in a way that helped him see that I understood why he was frustrated, but that it was still not okay that he was acting that way. Then Husband calls via FaceTime. Husband prefers that we turn off all the electronics in the joint when he calls because every single one of us has, at one time or another, gotten distracted and ignored what he was saying. So, as my phone rang, I turned off the show Bean was watching.

Bean throws himself on the ground, sticks his face in a pillow, screams and kicks his legs like a crazy person. I just ignored him and talked to Husband as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. I told him after Cakes and I had gotten our chats in that if he didn't talk to his dad, I wouldn't turn the show on. He ran away and refused and then screamed in his demon voice again that I couldn't make him do anything and he wasn't scared of me. I promptly got off the phone with Husband and almost literally (but not literally) threw him in his bed. Once he was in his bed, he screamed, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!". Well, I'm not sure what exactly "it" is, but I don't care anymore tonight. I was glad that I got him in bed a half hour early so I could watch Cupcake Wars in peace.

Wake up call

Around 2 AM last night, Bean comes into my room screaming "WHY IS IT BROWN?!?!". I was super disoriented and had no idea what he was talking about or what time it was; I just knew I wanted him to knock it off so I could sleep. He stands at the foot of my bed ripping his shirt off and continues screaming his random question. After I get him quiet and calm enough, I've come to find that he has thrown up in his sleep.

I clean him up and then walk downstairs to evaluate the situation. I smelled it before I saw anything. I walk into his room to find that he did indeed vomit and it was indeed brown. It looked like a gallon of chunky chocolate soup had been spewed on his pillow, mattress and wall. Yes, the wall... which had dripped angrily on to the carpet. I lifted up his pillow to take the case off for washing to find that the entire left side of the pillow had absorbed and was dripping in puke. Awesome.

I took all the sheets off and left the pillow inside the massive mess and just threw it in the washing machine as quickly as I could since I was holding my breath in an effort not to puke myself. I then wiped the wall and carpet down with Lysol wipes and then sprayed it down with Lysol spray to be doubly sure that it was clean and hopefully no longer smelly.

After all was said and done, I washed my hands and went back to bed with Bean at my side (and a giant bowl at his). Then, an hour later, Bean gets up to pee. I sat up from my bed and glanced over at him in the master bath to witness him then both pee and puke at the same time. I'm going to have to say, I was impressed. His aim during both was nothing short of amazing. If there were awards for such a thing, he'd take first place. The rest of the day has been about the same. Let's hope tonight fares better.

Well, here we are...

I have this problem where I'm an over-poster on facebook and I think that at least half my friends list has me hidden from their news feed. I needed a place to say what the heck it is I'm thinking about right now for people who may feel the same way. I'm going to have a plethora of subjects to (more than likely) complain about, but in one of those upbeat ways that will perhaps help people relate. Or you know... not. Either way, here it is in all it's glory. Hot, right? Right.

So, I may as well introduce myself and the folks I'll be speaking about frequently.  Me... I'm the Rachie. In reality, I really freaking hate it with a fiery passion when people I don't know and/or don't like call me Rachie. Consider it a privilege to refer to me in such a manner (because I'll probably tell you to stop otherwise). I'm an unconventional military wife of the LDS persuasion. I like to use substitute cuss words when I'm not actually cussing my face off. I'm a mom of three super cute dudes and I'm a little bit out of my mind. Some people think I'm funny. I find that that's only true when I'm not trying.

Husband. He's in the air force and he's rad as crap. Is crap rad? I don't know. Just know I love him a whole bunch and he melts my face. He's currently deployed until next fall somewhere in Asia. Where in Asia? Wouldn't you like to know.

Bean. He's my eldest child. He's in kindergarten and he is a character. He says some of the most random stuff that is almost always good for a laugh. He's got a temper, but when he's lovey, he loves hard. He makes me want to punch kittens a lot of days, but I wouldn't trade him for anything.

Cakes. He's the second dude of three. He has a super power as far as I'm concerned. Most people may disagree... society calls him autistic. I call him my hero. He has amazed and shocked me more than any one soul has.

The Wee. He's a mega chubby baby guy. He's wants to party like a grown man, I've come to find. He's all up in everyone's business and walking around like being a baby was so five minutes ago. People don't say that anymore; I'm bringing it back. I like to smooch his chunky cheeks and I'm excited to see what kind of crazy junk he'll come up with the bigger he gets.

My family is my life and I will fight to the death for them. Here I will be word vomiting as I see fit and if you feel like indulging in my nonsense... take a seat. Enjoy.