Humor Has It

Have you ever been around small children and can’t understand a thing they are saying, yet their parents can interpret instantly? My kids are growing up- they will all be in school this year- but the younger two still say some adorable things: “Pamingo” for “flamingo,” “menember” for “remember,” “banilla” for “vanilla.”  And I just don’t have the heart to correct them, because I know all too soon their childish language will pass away.

Living purposefully means reminding yourself of what is important, and taking joy in life’s simplest and richest treasures. Kid-speak definitely makes the cut, and my family loves to talk about the funny things they used to say. My teenager, Cameron, has one of the funniest stories involving toddler language, so here it is-  I hope it brightens your week.

I had just picked him up from Pre-K, and I was asking him about his day on the drive home. As usual, I received a one word answer: “Fun!” In an attempt to dig out more details, I asked, “Well, what was your favorite part, and what was the worst part?” He responded with bright eyes, “Swinging was the best!” Then suddenly his countenance changed; “And the worst was when… we hit a girl at recess,” he stated soberly.

               

“You did what?? Cameron, you know that you are not supposed to hit- especially girls!” I exclaimed in shock. He threw his little hands in the air. “Mom, we did it,” he replied emphatically. “That’s even worse” I said, “I don’t care how many people were involved- you never hit a girl!”

                 

Looking in the rear-view mirror, I felt confused. Why couldn’t he understand that his actions were wrong? Why had he given into mob mentality at such a young age? Was the girl injured? My interrogation continued for at least a full ten minutes until he started to cry.

               

“But mom, we hit the girl,” he wailed from his car seat. “You’re not wistening to me, mom, WE did it!” And that’s when the light bulb went off.

When Cameron was 4, he couldn’t say the “l” sound. When he sang “Mary had a little lamb,” it sounded like “Mary had a wittle wamb.” It all made sense now. Lee did it, not we did it. “Oh my goodness- the worst part of your day was seeing Lee hit a girl on the playground?” Cameron shook his head yes. “I’m sorry, sweety, I just didn’t understand you,” I said apologetically, “How about a milkshake to help us both feel better?” He wiped a tear away and nodded an affirmation to my suggestion. “A strawberry one with wots of whipped cream,” he added. 

Photo by: Eliza Adams via Flickr.

                 

One extra-large shake later, and Cameron had recovered. Milkshakes still work to this day to cheer him up. We love to laugh about this story and others when we are together. It makes the younger girls giggle with delight and start thinking about the cute words they used to say. It’s so funny to hear Madelyn, now 6, say, “Back when I was 4,” as if she’s quite the adult now. “I used to say ‘pasketti’ instead of ‘spaghetti’- menember, mom?” she asks. Yep, I menember.

                

Humor can brighten your day quickly, but you have to choose to use it. I hope you have fun thinking back on some of the funny things that happened with your kids, grandkids or siblings this week. Happy reminiscing!

This post was adapted from my column, "The Upside of Downsizing," originally published Aug. 9 in the Ellijay Times-Courier.

               

        

               

Home Alone

Child-free moments are rare in my life, which is why, when my wonderful mother-in-law called and asked to have all three of her grandmonsters, I mean, grandchildren, over for FIVE days, at first I thought I was dreaming. 

  

 “All of them- are you sure?” I asked. “Oh yes,” she replied. “We are dying to have them over before school starts back.” I silently did a spirited happy dance and accidentally slung the phone across the room where it fortunately landed on the couch. Snatching it up, I did my best to sound cool and calm; collective was just too much of a stretch. “Why sure, I think…are you sure?” I stammered before regaining control. “I mean, that will be fine, they don’t have a thing going on,” I said as angelically as possible. Hanging up the phone, a world of possibilities flew through my mind. What would I do with this free time? Should I perhaps run out and purchase some bonbons?

The Button-Pusher.

Whatever I did, I knew it would certainly involve some serious peace and quiet. I love my children dearly, but they don’t share my same appreciation for serenity. My youngest brother Joel and his wife, Leah, have the most adorable and quietest toddler you’ve ever seen. And she even eats her vegetables. Not. My. Kids. The younger girls spend their days arguing, whining, sneaking, and button-pushing. My teenaged son likes riding his dirt bike until dark. The sight of broccoli sends all of them into fits of retching.  I am, as it were, charged with harnessing and directing the incredible passion, energy and smarts of three adorable red-heads. Quiet time just doesn’t fit into the equation.  I wouldn’t change it for the world, but a reprieve is assuredly welcome.

                 

She picked them up last Saturday afternoon, and they were thrilled to go. Later that evening my husband Kerry and I enjoyed a family dinner with all of my brothers, their families and my parents. I ate without cleaning up any spills. I played badminton without the girls systematically stealing all of the birdies and hiding them in a “secret nest.” I even managed to get in a game of cards.  This was the life.

We accidentally slept in until noon the next day. As much as we wanted to do something exciting, we just bummed around and watched movies. We sat on the porch and enjoyed the sunshine and the sounds of birds chirping. We ate left-overs. A day of sheer relaxation was apparently just what the doctor ordered. And it didn’t cost us a thing.

                

Later that evening, I began to miss the kids. Sure they are exhausting, but deep, deep, really deep down I missed the mud-pies and paint splatters. After all, the arguing and whining were always interwoven with giggles and lively conversations. I missed Cameron raiding the cabinets with the voracious appetite of a teenager, telling me all the while about new comics and the latest funny videos on YouTube. Even our dog, who spends a considerable amount of energy trying to escape “dress-up time” with the girls, seemed sad as she trotted in and out of their empty room.

                 

While I  thoroughly enjoyed my remaining days of peace and quiet, I was equally excited to be rejuvenated for the kiddos when they returned. God knew I would need the extra energy to answer the many, many, many calls for “mom” until the next break presented itself. I hope this post inspires you to recharge and enjoy some quiet time every now and then. Happy unwinding!

This post was originally published in my column, "The Upside of Downsizing" in the Ellijay Times-Courier on  July 25, 2012.