Overheard

What I love about North Carolina is that you can swim right up until the end of September if you're so inclined. This week, we took advantage of pool access at my parents' house a few more times before the cold sets in. The slide is finally in and it's a hit with all the kids, even my fearless 17 month old (wow, that's the first time I've said that. is that even possible??). We ended the summer with Danny swimming on one wing and Owen ditching the bubble suit and just going with the wings. Fiona is still in two wings, but tries one wing from time to time.

Patiently taking turns on the slide has been a challenge for my almost 5 year old (what???); though, after several poolside time outs, I think he finally got it. 

I'm waiting patiently. I'm waiting patiently. I'm waiting patiently, Danny chattered under his breath while in line for the slide.

The other most frequently broken pool rule is the "No screaming" rule.

Why are you in time out? I asked.
I did this: AAAAAHHHHHHH. Thanks, Dan. Now I can't hear out of that ear.

As for Owen, we just can't watch him eat anymore. It's too disgusting and bizarre. He actually takes his food from his plate and puts it down in his high chair seat. WHY???

Owen is throwing his food, mom, Danny reported while we're having a discussion about manners.
Yeah, pretty much anything Owen does at the table is bad manners.

On the bright side, it was Danny who started talking about table manners. Danny is also starting to say weird things, such as:

I like broccoli now. It's healthy for my body. Awesome.

and ...

I can make healthy choices. A pear is a healthy choice. More awesome. What a great kid.

These days, though, we can't even remember what dinner was like before kids.

A long time ago, it was just me and daddy, I told Danny.
We call those the good old days, Jim said.
Now it's the poop days, Danny giggled. Oh, how right he is.

And speaking of poop ...
I just checked Owen's diaper and he doesn't have poop, declares Fiona, my personal poop assistant. She literally gets a hold of the back of Owen's diaper, pulls it out and checks for poop. It cracks me up every time.

Did you get the mail? Jim asked.
No.
YES. I get to get out of the house. Boy, we need to get out more.

Newscaster: It appears a large satellite is hurtling toward earth.
Jim, squirming in his seat: Oh, damn, I don't know where to sit.

[Insert random Danny explanation of the world here]
Yeah, mommy, Fiona tells me, wide eyed.

Do you have a mouth in your face? Danny asked. Clearly, he's running out questions

Is he bleeding? I called to Jim as he scooped Captain Klutz from the driveway. 
Probably, Jim replied calmly. Upon inspection: Hey, he bleeds peanut butter. (I can't catch Owen to clean him up most days.)

Is it okay to get out of time out? Danny asked
No, you can't get out of TIME OUT, Fiona replied. (Mommy snickered in the kitchen.)

I don't like this project, mom.
It's not a project, dear. It's cleanup time.

Two minutes later ...
I'm tired. Fifi can clean it up. Um, no. I suggested that he go to bed if he was tired. He started cleaning up pretty darn quickly after that.

Where's the bridge [train track] piece? I asked Danny while we were putting together a track.
I don't know. It might have walked away. It might have legs. Um, I wonder if this is a stab at sarcasm? If so, momma is just so proud!

I want to do art in the bum bum, mommy, Fiona says often. Now, the "bum bum" is what our kids call the Bumbo seat, which has made an excellent booster seat. But that doesn't keep me from snickering every time one of them says it.

Have a great weekend, everybody!