Overheard

So, here I am at the end of another week. The kids are at PMO for the morning. I have some time to myself finally to finish up some blog posts, do some editing, clean the house. Clean the house? Just kidding. That's actually what I told my husband I was doing this morning. 

During the week, I often jot down the things they say. And when he asked me what I was writing down, I told him: It's your permanent record.


I think I may have to change the name of my blog to "The Permanent Record," especially since my kids won't likely go to a traditional school and have the traditional permanent record.

Owen had his first sleepover at Nana and PopPop's house. He did great, but did miss his morning snuggle time with mommy.


As for Fiona and Danny, they are either fighting or conspiring. Some of their collaborations have been downright scary.


Guess what your daughter did today?
What?
She went down the stairs in a laundry basket. 
He grinned and asked: How did she do?

Danny loaded her up with a few of his stuffed animals and pushed her down the stairs. There are 14 of them, by the way. No broken bones, this time.

No jumping off the ladder.  The ladder is the only downside to Danny's new loft bed.

I'm trying to fly around in circles.
[deep breath]
Here's a tip: People can't fly. 
No, no, Fi Fi flew in the laundry basket. 

I later found out that she did indeed fly in the laundry basket. My husband spun them around in the laundry basket after bath time one night -- the night I wasn't home, of course.


Dan, I'm going to have to put you on hold, Jim says while we're driving in the van while he and I were trying to talk.

A few minutes later ...

Can I put you on hold? he asks me. Yes, Dan?
We're driving right into a thunder cloud.
Well, why didn't you say so? Were you on hold or something?


I've got to stop that thunderstorm, Danny tells us.
How're you going to do that?
With sticks. Go for it, kid. Just make sure they're not metal, 'kay?



MOM, MOM, THERE'S GEESE. YOU JUST GOT TO LISTEN TO ME, Danny says while I'm trying to talk to Jim in the van.
You know, you can talk to your sister, right? Jim asks. And they didn't talk to us for the rest of the ride. It's as if this never even occurred to him.

Did you just pee in these? I asked, holding up some underpants.
Yeah.
You know we have a toilet, right?
What's a toilet? he asked. Sometimes I don't know if he's joking or not.

Hey, mom, catch. No, thanks Captain Oblivious. I'm DRIVING.

Have a great weekend!