Dinner and a Show

Being a mother, I like to multi task. For example, I may feel like embarrassing my kids, my neighbors, and myself at the same time. Easily accomplished by dancing in the kitchen while I cook. Blinds wide open.....and oh yeah...I sing too. It's dinner and a show at our house. Brad gave me the under mounted radio/CD player in my kitchen for mothers day last year. Love. It. Some where along the way Brynn caught on and does a pretty good job of replicating what he sees/has been taught. Let me give you a little behind the scene breakdown of some of the signature moves you'll see:

He must have seen me doing the splits the other day (:15), with a little effort he could be just as flexible.

Discovery channel should get credit for the move I like to call 'The Praying Mantis.' (1:06).

We need to work on his breaking though....it lacks my finesse (1:28).

Brad taught him the robot (1:56) which looks suspiciously like 'The Praying Mantis.' but we'll let that slide.

You know the term, "Shake what your Mama gave you? Here (2:13) and here (2:38). No thanks needed Brynn.

And last but not least Brad often walks out of a room just like this (4:04). It's crazy the things kids pick up on.

Consider yourself dialed in on the down low to the 4-1-1, fo shizzle dopzizzel. Urban dictionary helped me come up with that last sentence...thank you urban dictionary.

Do you like apples?

It had been a few weeks since Brynner said it, then while driving the other day He randomly said, "How do you like them apples?!" trying to make Laynie laugh. The first time I had heard the phrase was in the movie Good Will Hunting after the main character gloats about getting a girls number. (Brad takes pride in teaching Brynner all the important stuff.) My personal favorite is when Brynner does a little add lib of his own, "How do you like them peach?!" or "How do you like them pizza?!" So anyway back to driving....He made me laugh so hard I could have wrecked, had I not been the superb driver that I am. I'm just thankful it didn't turned out like last week when Brad said something really funny as I took a sip of my rootbeer-not good. I think the last time I spit anything like that was when I hit Brad in his glasses {tink} with my toothbrush handle. Naturally it made me explode with a laugh that got him an entire face full of toothpaste. Well that's not entirely true, there were toothpaste-free circles around his eyes. Glasses do a bang up job of shielding from toothpaste spitters like yours truly. I can't help it! If I have to laugh it's best for all involved that I get it out or it will push it's way out in a very unflattering sound kind of like blowing a raspberry and snorting at the same time. Brad shakes his head when it happens in places like church. I think it should go in the same category as a sneeze. Nobody shakes their head at someone sneezing. Why? Because they can't help it. I rest my case. For all the inappropriate laugher's out there-I've got your back. How do you like them apples Brad?!

The gun show

I thought golf was the worst thing on TV. I stand corrected. It's PBA bowling on ESPN. May I just add I never signed up to watch PBA bowling? I signed up for poopy diapers, loud annoying toys that sing loud annoying songs, and to be idolized as the greatest person this side of the world. You know. Run of the mill parenting kind of stuff. I know the state of mind my three year old has been in with regards to bowling. The obsessive kind. So I'm not surprised when he saw it on TV that he was instantly enamored with it. I took the opportunity to flex my selfless parenting muscle. The one that's more mature then my three year old's and wants to watch something as pointless as PBA bowling. He's young, in time I'm sure he'll realize the show I wanted to catch up on, while we all lay sick in my bed, was much better. The Bachelor can teach all kinds of lessons PBA bowling only dreams of. Like how real men go to therapy, it's OK to date lots of girls at once, and if you don't play nice with others (MICHELLE!) you won't get picked in the end. All very important life lessons. That selfless parenting muscle of mine is getting worked over here. Sometimes, when no one is looking, I check it out in the mirror. Welcome to the gun show.

Still thinking about it...

I dropped Brynner's tennis ball in the church toilet on Sunday. Lovely. See, some time between trying (the operative word) to hold his collection of stuff and holding him up on the sink and getting the soap and drying his hands... it slipped. One bounce and into the toilet it went as I watched helplessly over my shoulder. I seriously considered leaving it there for half a second, then realized some kid would probably have a heart attack and die. So, I did the one thousand and forty fifth gross thing since becoming a parent, reached in and retrieved it-soggy and dripping. Thew it in the trash, did my grossed out dance (that involves a lot of head shaking and running in place in case you wanted a visual-you're welcome), and washed my hands three times for good measure. Because I was so sneaky Brynn had completely forgotten tennis balls even existed. Me? I can't seem to forget. Quick! Someone squeeze lemon juice in my eye!

51 days

since the last time I posted. LAME!

More lame then the time I cried because I found out Elvis had died and I had a crush on him.

More lame then needing to hide candy for Halloween or stockings etc... so my husband won't eat it :)

MORE LAME then the time Brynner and I got food poisoning at McDonald's and spent half the night puking our guts out.

I have so much to post about, I don't know where to start and so I just sat here and counted how many times the cursor blinked before I typed this sentence (14!). Aren't you glad you're spending your time reading this?! Hey listen. I had a baby. You loose your ability to think straight. She's uber cute though so I don't care she turned my brain to mush.

See??! Cute huh. She squeals and smiles and sticks her tongue out and kicks and tries so darn hard to get her toes in her mouth but she's just too fat, poor thing. :) And then there is Brynner. Man I love this one. He jokes and laughs and dances and talks a million miles an hour about skateboards and bowling balls and how the new train he got for his birthday is doing training exercises. Where does he come up with this stuff?!

In that last picture he's showing his skateboards how to do a little break dancing. He's my most favorite little guy ever!

Trick or Treat

Forty bonus points for the first person that can correctly identity Laynie's costume!

(Hint: It rhymes with beveled leg)

(Hint: It also rhymes with leveled beg)

(Hint: It does Not rhyme with Paprika)

Donald Duck dressed up like a cowboy on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse so Brynner thought it was the greatest idea ever! The look on his face when I pulled out his pistols was the best. And darn it, doesn't he make the cutest cowboy?!

I must also give a shout out to my hubby and darn it, doesn't he make the cutest chef ever?!

Fishing and Crackers

Don't get me wrong, fishing is great. Fresh air, junk food, spending quality time together (which just means trying to out fish everyone). The part that gets me is waking up at 5:00 AM to drive two plus hours. No thanks, I'd rather sleep in and go shopping! So that's exactly what Laynie and I did. Food shopping is still shopping for all intents and purposes. She only woke up for the important stuff, like when she helped me decide on which cracker to buy (Wheat Thins or Triscuits-both are so delicious!). From what I hear, the boys had a good time too (though I doubt they bonded in a way that Layn and I did). Check out one of the four huge fish Brynner caught on his Lightening McQueen pole! When I asked him how big his fish was, he stretched his arms out as wide as he could and with an even bigger grin, yelled at me about it's Polka Dots. Daddy, you taught him well. In fact, if we teach our children nothing else, I think they could be pretty self sufficient adults one day. Laynie the efficient cracker picker and Brynner, the pro fisherman-boy.