Inappropriate humor for the younger set

It's bed time and the kids are cycling through the shower. Dillon is on the couch beside me reading and playing with my hair (he's trying to win the Most Adored Child Award) and Caleb is in his room getting on jammies and cleaning up. As I sit on the sofa reading my book, I hear Talia, fresh from the shower, go pounding through the hall and up the steps all the while chanting, "I'm done! I'm done! I'm done!" etc, etc. And lo, a shout from Caleb floats out, "mummble mummble mummble Vagina!" The vague words sink through my immersion in imaginary world, my brow wrinkles and my head pops up. I turn towards Dillon, my ever mature 10 year old, and say, "Did he just say vagina?" Well, maybe that mature thing is a bit premature because then he collapses with laugher, so overcome he can barely speak. And really, who can blame him because he is 10 and the word vagina has now been uttered twice. But he tops it off with "...*giggle* He said *chuckle snort* her towel *snort wheeze* smells like vagina!!" Sigh....note to self- next time don't verify these sorts of things with the 10 year old.

Ahhh-chooo! Bless me!

For the last couple of weeks I have had a, well, we will call it a cold. This afternoon, for the third day in a row, I was sneezing like it was going out of style, so I asked Caleb to go get me some toilet paper to blow my nose. Thoughful little guy that he is, he heads right off to grab some. As he is headed back to me, he says, "Mommy, I got you a whole square!" ....Thanks, sweetie, that's gonna go far. I love my little helpers!

Am I feeling relief, or am I in shock?

Soooo.....

There are no children in my house. That's right, my friends, for the first time in 10 years, all of my kids are walking, talking and in school all day on a matching schedule. No running to drop them off after lunch, no interrupting naps to pick someone up, no babies in my house at all. Period. Yes, I think it might be shock I am feeling.

They were all so adorable in their back to school outfits and new backpacks. I'd post a picture, but I still don't know how. I have begged my computer savvy, extremely loving and indulgent husband to figure it out for me, and then show me how, so maybe soon some visual aids will join my words. But until then, picture three mini me's, only way, super cuter, with great big packs on their backs and 3 boxes of Kleenex clutched in their hands heading into school. This is, unbelievably, Dillon's last year in elementary school in this district. It does seem like only yesterday, as we moms are wont to say, that I was taking HIM to his first day of kindergarten. Time surely does fly.

We had chocolate chip panckakes for breakfast. Talia's hair was braided and pulled back into pig tails. Dillon's feet are almost the same size as mine. The boy's shirts matched, but they had different shorts. Ta looked too much like a teenager for my heart to handle. My house is so quiet. Yep.....I am pretty sure it is shock.

Nope, they aren't the mail man's

Soooo....here is some irrefutable proof that the kids DEFINITELY belong to John.

Down the road we go, on our way to the YMCA for summer youth fitness, inconveniently scheduled from 6-7 in the evening, and from the back pipes up a little voice. "Mommy," my adorable girl child says, "do you know Queen Amidala? You know, from Star Wars?" Ummhmmm, I respond. "Did you know she was only 14 when she became queen? Just 14! Can you believe that?" Oh, I am not believing something alright, but it is NOT the queen's tender years. "And," adds my information source, "all her girls that served her, they were her age, and they weighed the same as she did, and they looked like her and were the same height." Wow, I respond. And thus begins a very rousing conversation in the back about where, precisely, the places can actually be found, and how they developed their weapons and machinery. You will be happy to know that it was established that Star Wars, its people and various locations are located in our imaginations. And this frighteningly informative pint sized sci fi fan is certifiable proof that these children are indeed the spawn of John Rowland.