Nick at Pee Pee Fountain

Things My Boys Think Are Funny

Little boys can laugh at almost anything, it takes the smallest trigger and they are like a pack of hyenas giggling like crazy.  But, what really gets my guys laughing is anything that has to do with a bodily function including but not limited to: pee, poop, farts, puking, spitting...

Last week my mom and I took my guys to a water park, there was a lazy river, slides, and really cool splash areas, but what my guys liked best of all was a small fountain designed to fill water guns.  They called it pee pee fountain and took turns pretending they were going to the bathroom for over twenty minutes.  There was a similar pee pee fountain (aka broken sprinkler) we would pass walking my oldest to school.  I could actually get the younger boys to get dressed and out of the house faster if I promised to walk by pee pee fountain on the way home.

Jack and a whoopee cushion

For almost a year Jack's favorite toy has been a whoopee cushion.  He is already on his third one.  He can play with that thing for hours.

But what really cracks Nick and Michael up is the fact that Jack has taught himself how to fart and burp at will.  He mostly likes to do this in the car.  Unfortunately his burps sound a bit like choking which can be a big distraction when driving and it's gross.  I bet car rides are a lot different for moms of girls.

Kids tell a story about poop

Viral Videos and My Kids

I started a job a few months ago working on a new clip show.  A part of my job involves scouring You Tube for funny viral videos.  My kids think this is the coolest thing in the entire world.  Every night as I walk into the house the first thing Jack (3) asks is "Mommy did you find any funny videos?"  My answer is usually yes, and if I am feeling tired and am too lazy to actually play I will answer, "Want to watch some?"  The kids always do, and given that it's a family show, most of what we watch is completely fine.  That is until the night that for some reason I was dumb enough to introduce them to Parkour.  For those of you that don't know what Parkour is, it involves free running and performing gymnastic type moves all over the city, flips off walls, jumping off of things, and overall maneuvers that could kill small children.  Needless to say, the boys all thought Parkour was awesome.  Now instead of getting to sit on the couch and relax I had to watch the boys attempt Parkour in our house.  By watch I mean save children from crashing through glass, diving on their heads, and protect a very daring 5 year old basically from himself.  Tonight when they asked to watch funny videos, I just put on Dope Zebra.

Germ City

Second Grade was a good year for my oldest son, Mike.  He learned a lot, had fun, made new friends, and wrote a poem that I am pretty sure will be celebrated for years to come.

 Germ City 

by: Michael Olsen

A dumpster is a house for a hobo.

A paper is a house for words.

A railing is a house for germs.

A person's a home for a demon.

A house is a house for me.

I will now attempt to dissect this poem beginning with the first line.  My kids have recently started calling homeless people hobos.  Apparently that is how their friends are also referring to the homeless these days.  After all they are growing up in 1950.  Though after my three year old yelled "look a butt" (he confused butt and bum) at the homeless man we walked by the other day hobo doesn't seem that bad.

Line two of the poem doesn't need much explanation, I actually think Robert Frost may have said similar.

Line three is my fault, I may have a slight hand sanitizer addiction.  Not in the way that prisoners are currently drinking the stuff, I just occasionally ask the boys to wash their hands with it to kill germs.  And railings are disgusting!

A person's a home for a demon may be my favorite line and I have no idea how he thought of it.  Maybe, Goosebumps?

The final line is again self explanatory.  I hope he likes his house, and that it is a house for him for a long time.  Or, until he turns 18 and I send him off to college.  Do you think the admissions office at Harvard will appreciate this poem?

Our Week at the Pediatricians

I have had to make three trips to the Pediatricians office this week. 

First, I had to pick up an updated vaccination record to enroll Nick is Kindergarten.  That was pretty painless, less than five minutes at the office.  We were so quick; they didn’t even bother to charge for parking. 

The next night Nick was up coughing a lot… back to the doctor.  Nothing a quick dose of antibiotics won’t fix. 

Then, back to the office the next day for a TB test for Nick, another part of registering for Kindergarten.  This visit was a little less smooth; it started with Nick kicking me multiple times in the waiting room (he is afraid of needles) and ended with me holding him down as they gave him the quick injection.  A little more crying, and a few kicks to the front door of the office and we were out. 

Fast forward to five o’clock today when the phone rings, I see the Pediatricians name on the caller ID.  My only thought was how nice, she is calling to check and see how Nick feels.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  The conversation started nice enough, she wanted to know if Nick had recovered from earlier.  Then all of a sudden it turned into an overall criticism of my wild children (meaning my parenting skills in general).  Turns out the second day we were there, the exam room was “a mess” when we left.  I found this hard to believe since the two boys had picked up all the toys before we left the room.  It wasn’t toys, it turns out when the kids washed their hands as we were leaving they go the floor wet.  The horror!!! And to add to it, there had been sand in Nick’s sneakers that he spilled as he removed them for his weigh in.  I had inadvertently left some muddy water on the ground, and allegedly a janitor had to be called to clean it up.  Then, came today’s atrocities.  This one, I admit was my fault.  I had a pen in my purse that Jack got ahold of as I was restraining Nick during his TB test and he had colored on the paper that covers the exam table.  I honestly don’t know if any ink got on the table, I guess it is possible that a little did, the Pediatrician claims it did.  Then again, as I was leaving the office, I decided it was a good idea to wash the kids hands, as physician’s office can be pretty germy.  Again, a little water got on the floor.  This I had noticed, decided that getting my angry, screaming child out of there made more sense than wiping up about 2 paper towels worth of water.  And ignored the “mess” and left.  After being accosted with all of these accusations by the pediatrician, she basically asked me if I could control them better at the next visit because they make too much work for her staff.  Instead of all the great snide responses I can think of now, I just said yes and hung up the phone.  As of yesterday, I was happily recommending our new, local pediatrician.  But, I guess now I am back to the drawing board.  So, does anyone have a pediatrician they can recommend that doesn’t mind messy, disobedient children?  

Why My Kids Prefer an Old Abandoned Zoo

If I ask my boys what they want to do, 9 times out of 10 they will choose a visit to The Old Los Angeles Zoo.  For those of you who haven’t yet discovered it, the Old Zoo is where the LA Zoo used to be located.  Sometime in the 60’s all of the animals were removed and brought to their current home about 2 miles away.  What’s left is a series of empty animal enclosures, cages, a deserted building and a bunch of hiking trails.  Despite its state of ill repair, urine smell in some places and more broken glass than a mom ever wants to see, this place is boy heaven.  The past few days my two youngest have been fighting nonstop and I knew the only way to remedy this was to get them out of the house for the afternoon.  Of course they picked the Old Zoo.  Upon our arrival and after the youngest confirmed with me that there were indeed no coyotes lurking in the bushes (there was one roaming around the last time we were there) we headed for the Zoo.  As we passed the bathroom, I made sure no one had to use it and continued up the hill toward some cages to play in.  After hiking for about 5 minutes, Nick (5) informed me that he now had to poop, of course he did.  Jack (almost 3) insisted he didn’t have to go.  So after hitting the bathroom we walked back up the hill.  Only to get about 10 minutes higher up the hill and discover that indeed, Jack had to poop now.  Another bathroom trip and we got to explore some cages.  The kids pretended they were monkeys, which doesn’t take any imagination at all.  After having a snack and collecting more sticks to add to their gigantic stick collection (carefully hidden from the gardener behind the bushes in the front yard) we were done.  The kids had fun, my house was spared an afternoon under siege, and we were two hours closer to bedtime.

A Very Wet Lunch

Saturday afternoon we hit one of our favorite Mexican dives with all three kids in tow.  It started out rough with Nick (5) complaining that he hates to go out to eat... ever.  We offered a babysitter, the fictitious, Mrs. Meanie - world’s worst babysitter.  He refused and stopped whining long enough to walk into the restaurant, sit down, and play on my iPhone.  Just when all was calm, I felt something wet pouring all over my lap.  I looked up from my menu to find Michael (8) had spilled an entire cup of Sprite across the table and managed to soak no one else but me.  And in the most uncomfortable spot as if I had just ridden Splash Mountain at Disneyland and instead of my pants and underwear being soaked with water I had been sprayed with corn syrup and ice.   Even better no one at the table a) told me that the cup had spilled b) made any effort to stop the spill before it got the entire way across the table onto my lap.   After cleaning myself off with the least absorbent napkins on the planet (picture that toilet paper that they had in elementary school bathrooms in the 80's) I decided to make the most of lunch.  I split up a quesadilla between the two youngest kids, gave most of my tacos to them as well and finally got to eating the rest of my food which was already cold.  About half way through Jack (almost 3) tells us he has to pee.  He often says this in restaurants to take a break from sitting at the table and doesn't really have to use the bathroom.  Chris (my husband) gets up to take him but the restroom is occupied and he sits back down and gets back to eating his lunch.  Jack again says he has to go pee, we tell him it's going to be a few minutes.  He has been potty trained for about 6 months already and never has accidents; we are not concerned at all.  We should have been.  I look over at Jack, he is now sitting very strangely in his highchair.  Without us realizing it, he had peed right there in the restaurants high chair and all over the floor.  I do my best to wipe off the chair and the ground beneath it with out attracting the attention of the entire restaurant, keep in mind I was using those napkins again.  After making my best effort to clean up I leave Chris with the older kids and head out to the car with Jack and quickly strip him down and strap him in his car seat. Then something goes right for a change, I find a bag of 2T clothes in the trunk that was supposed to go to goodwill weeks ago, at least one of us can have some dry pants.  I consider stripping down to get out of my own soaking wet, sticky pants but think better of it.  I'm pretty sure I can't squeeze into a 2T.  We should have just stayed home and had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.