Kids will be kids

Funny things 5 year olds say.

Part of being a parent is watching in awe as your little person learns and grows, and discovers the world around them. Also part of being a parent is cursing the day your child learns to spell and you can no longer talk in C-O-D-E. (Lucky for us, we can still spell out entire conversations to each other.)

Us being silly with Snapchat (aka: “the button with the ghost on it”

These little sponges pick up on everything around them, even when you think they are engrossed in an episode of Paw Patrol. And out of nowhere they will say the funniest things to you, based on conversations you never knew they were listening to.

In our house, that looks something like this:

Little Mister: “Mom! Come and see this fort me and Daddy built out of blankets!”
Me: “I’ll be right there!”
Little Mister: “It’s so cool! It has an adult area where you can get lots of different beers! You’ll love it!”

And like this:

Mr. kk (to me): “Do you want to share a frosty?”
Little Mister: “Mom, I think Dad is asking you if you want half his beer.”

And this (has nothing to do with beer, thankfully. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of us):

Little Mister: “Let’s walk down the hallway in order from oldest to youngest. Dad, you go first, then Mom, then me.”
Me: “You heard him, Dad, oldest in the front!”
((Let it be known for the record that Mr. kk is two years my junior))

On talking about The Lion King:

Me: “Was there a bad guy in that movie?”
Little Mister: “Yes! His name was Scarf!”
Me: “You mean Scar?”
Little Mister: “Yes, Scarf.”

On asking him to do anything:

Little Mister: “RELAX, Dad. Jeesh.”


Little Mister: “Just calm down, everyone!”

In between telling us yet another food that is now ‘yucky’ and fighting bedtime like it’s his job, the Little Mister is a funny, smart and sweet boy, who keeps us on our toes and keeps us laughing.

Kids will be kids

Aren’t 5 year olds fun sometimes?

Our Little Mister is embracing his independence now that he is “one whole hand” old.

I’ve heard the term “three-nager” but what do we call the 5 year old who knows everything?

We love this kid like crazy, but we’d be lying if we said some of his antics didn’t drive us crazy.

Here are the super fun things going on in our house right now:

Clothing is a thing. He has an opinion about everything that goes on his body. Pants aren’t “cozy” enough. Sweatshirts aren’t an “all day shirt”. His new sneakers are “too hard”.

He. Doesn’t. Go. To. Sleep. Every night there is a song and dance at bedtime. Sometimes it’s too dark. Then it’s too hot. Then he wants Rocco. Then Rocco is moving too much. Then he’s thirsty. Then he wants to ask a question. Then he needs to be tucked in. Then he needs to tell us something. Then…it’s 9:30pm and he’s still not sleeping.

Bionic hearing. This kid hears everything. Let’s just say, we can no longer have adult conversations in the house without someone piping up and asking questions about what we mean, or why so-and-so is doing this or that. So now Mr. KK and I are resigned to talk to each during the times that we’re awake but the Little Mister isn’t. So, for about 5 minutes a day.

We are constantly getting interrupted. When Mr. KK and I do try and have a conversation – what we’re having for dinner, what we’re doing that weekend, nothing deep or meaningful, we save that for our 5 minutes of kid-free time – we are immediately interrupted by an incessant little voice saying, “Mommy. Mommy. Mom. Mom. Mommy. MOOOOOMMMMMYYYYY.” And it doesn’t stop until we answer.

It’s very LOUD in our house. Are kids just programmed to only speak at one decibel: ear-splitting? We could be standing next to the Little Mister and he still yells. Mr. KK downloaded this app that measures how loud is too loud to talk with a cute little emoji that makes a sad face when you talk too loudly that the Little Mister immediately assumed was a game and tried to make the little dial go off the charts. Why do kids talk so damn loudly??

He threatens us. But not well. “If you don’t let me have a snack, you can’t play Paw Patrol with me.” Um….ok?

Everything is NO. It doesn’t matter the question, or what we say to him, his answer is no every single time, and often before we finish. “Let’s wash our hands for dinner.” NO. “Can you put your shoes on?” NO. Sometimes I try and trick him…ask him a bunch of questions in a row, then throw in a “Do you want a snack?” and he’ll say NO and then catch himself. Little bugger.

Five is a hard age. He wants to be a big boy, but he still has little boy tendencies. Which I’m totally okay with, because I want him to be little forever. Which I know is ridiculous, but the thought of a teenager who doesn’t want anything to do with me scares the crap out of me. We had one night last week where the Little Mister was crying for Daddy and NOT Mommy, and my entire night deflated. But he always wants me! Why doesn’t he want me?! I’m crazy, I know.

I just want him to grow up happy and healthy and to be a good human.

Who doesn’t talk so loudly.

Kids will be kids, NaBloPoMo

From the mouth of a 4 year old.

Ah, the uncensored, mostly hilarious – yet sometimes mean – mouth of a preschooler.

If you’re looking for honest feedback, find the nearest 4-year-old. They speak their minds, have no filter. They also pick up on things they hear and that you say to them, then turn around and use those same phrases in shockingly proper ways.

Here are some recent gems:

When he sees a toy commercial or a toy in a catalog. “I would like that toy from Santa! Wait, was is that toy? What does it do? Doesn’t matter, I still want it!”

“I’ll take one of these, and one of these, and one of these…”

Little Mister was pretending that me and Mr. KK were babies. He woke us up and told us he needed to go to work. He put on my scarf, kissed us both good-bye and said, “Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do when I was you!”

I was drying him off after his bath, and he ran to the bathroom before we put pajamas on. When he came back, he informed me, “AND, I didn’t even pee on the floor! Well, except that one drop, but that’s right in front of the toilet, so it’s ok.”

Little Mister brought his stuffed monkey in the car with him on the way to daycare. I let him know that he needed to leave his monkey in the car when he went into school. His response, “Ok, but I don’t want your girlfriends playing with my monkey all day.” Oh boy.


Never a dull moment in this house!


If you need me after 9pm, call me tomorrow.

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The fact that I’m writing this post at 11pm on a Friday night is amazing. Not because I’m home, but because I’m AWAKE.

That’s right. Usually, I would have at least a solid hour of sleep under my belt by this time, but we were at a friends’ house, and when you fall asleep at other people’s homes, they don’t always invite you back.

Part of the deal with being a morning person is that you’re NOT a night owl. Meaning: you go to bed early. I have always gone to bed early. In college, I would do my best to hang until the wee hours of the morning (why, people? WHY?) but would often find myself sneaking off “lie down for just a minute” and the next thing I knew I would wake up fully-clothed, on top of my twin comforter, mascara halfway down my face, at 5:30am.

During the week, every night is an endurance test to see if I can outlast Little Mister at bedtime. When we start our pre-bed show at 8pm, there have been many night when I have fallen asleep (Mr. KK, too) while Little Mister watches TV, wide awake. In fact, I’ve never known my child to ever fall asleep while watching TV. How is that possible?

If you find it a necessity enjoy going to bed early, you shouldn’t have children. Because guess what kids hate to do? GO TO BED. In fact, they are so manipulating, that they could drag out the going-to-bed-routine for over 45 minutes. Forty-five minutes. Do you know how many times I could have fallen asleep during that time? Nine times. Nine.

And guess what little kids don’t like to do? NAP. I would practically sell my soul to be able to take an uninterrupted marathon nap on a Saturday afternoon. When I suggest a nap to Little Mister, he acts like I offered him poisonous candy. I want to scream, “Enjoy this sleep while you can, Kid! You don’t know what you’re missing!” Because some day, you’ll be exhausted and just want to throw your body on your mattress but you’ll have a little child who just “isn’t tired” or “isn’t ready to sleep just yet”, even though it 9pm, 9:30pm, 10pm. You will be DYING to go to bed (forget pajamas, I’ll just sleep in my clothes like college) – you will be able to physically SEE your bed from his room – and yet, you will never get there. You will be dealing with orange ghosts under the bed, one very last glass of water, and getting the comforter tucked in on all sides. You will say things like, “I’m exhausted,” to your child. Who will simply look at you, wide-eyed, and reply, “Well, I’m not.” As if that’s the last word to keep you up even.

When Vito the Wonder Dog was still alive, and we were living in our last house, there would come a point in the night when he would be ready to go upstairs to bed. Mind you, he had been sleeping on us on the couch for the last 2 hours, but he’d reach his breaking point. He’d wake up and stretch, shake out, jump down from our legs, and prance over to the staircase. Vito would then sit at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us and crying; it was as if he was saying, “Come on, humans! Can’t you see I’m exhausted! I just want to go to bed.” Eventually his crying would wear us down and we’d take him upstairs to bed.

I loved this about Vito. He was tired? He’d go to bed. Now, when I’m tired, I’m either in the middle of the bedtime routine, or there’s laundry to be done, or cookies for school to bake.

Once Little Mister started growing up, I still couldn’t meet my early bedtime, because on the nights Mr. KK and I would eat after Max went to bed, we found ourselves eating at 9:30pm. (In fact, we still do.) And if there’s anything I hate more than missing my bedtime, it’s being hungry. Food comes first.

So if you ever need me – or, God forbid, ever want to go out with me – after 9pm, consider it a hard pass. We can talk tomorrow when I’m up before the sun and ready to tackle the day.

Right now, I just want to tackle my pillow. GOOD NIGHT.

Kids will be kids, NaBloPoMo

The preschooler rating system.

My rating tonight after shutting the TV and announcing it was time to start our bedtime routine.

If you live in my house, you are constantly aware of the type of job you’re doing not only as a parent, but as a human being. Why? Because our preschooler has developed a very detailed rating system that puts Yelp and Rotten Tomatoes to shame.

That’s right, at any given time, Mr. KK and I are given immediate ratings and feedback, delivered through the complex rating system knows as: Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down.

Imagine if you could use this rating system as adults in real life???

When your waiter at a restaurant asks how you like your meal, you could give him a big Thumbs Down.

At work, when someone in a meeting throws out a ridiculous idea, you simply reply with Two thumbs Down.

And, after a decent first date, instead of the awkward kiss at the front door, you can give them an enthusiastic Two Thumbs Up!

But back to parenting.  Just how does one earn this prestigious Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down rating? I’m glad you asked!

Here are just a few ways you can earn a Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down rating in our house:

  • Ask Little Mister to wash his hands before dinner. Rating: Thumbs down.
  • Shut off the TV when it’s time to go to bed. Rating: Two thumbs down.
  • Say yes to dessert. Rating: Two thumbs up.
  • Announce that it’s bath night. Rating: Thumbs down.
  • Ask Little Mister to brush his teeth. Rating: Thumbs down.
  • Remind Little Mister that he needs to put shoes on to go to school. Rating: Thumbs down.
  • Read two books before bed. Rating: Two thumbs up.
  • Mr. KK and I try to have an adult conversation. Rating: Two thumbs down.
  • Limit TV intake to a normal amount. Rating: Two thumbs down.
  • Try and hold hands in a busy parking lot. Rating: Thumbs down.
  • Give Little Mister the ‘Thumbs Down’. Rating: Two thumbs down.

Not everyone can have this educational rating system in their house. In order to do so, you must have a very opinionated preschooler with a strong will and award-winning frown face.

My current rating: Thumbs medium. I’ll take it!