Category — Funny

Here’s a little laugh for you…Travis shaved the boys’ hair today, and in the midst of Shane’s haircut, we got a glimpse into what he’ll look like in 60 years:

Jack came outside, took one look at Shane, and said “Shane looks like Granjoe!” and then proceeded to laugh his little butt off.  I’m pretty sure my father-in-law would find Jack’s sense of humor just as funny as we did! 

Once the shave was complete, it was adorable.  Shane loves to get his haircut and especially loves all the praise he gets as soon as it’s done – everyone loves to feel his prickly head! 

Jack HATES having his haircut; the sound of the razor drives him crazy.  Strange thing is, he loves the dentist.  Weird kid;)  I love both boys with short hair – you can see their features so much better.  We’re heading out for what should be an incredible hike tomorrow, so I’ll hopefully take some pictures of the new ‘do’s there.

Jack starts school in 2 weeks.  I wonder if that’s going to ruin the munchkin games he, Shane, and Fin have made up and enjoying playing together, like “Princess Parade.”  I wish they could stay little and carefree forever.  Please make note of how dainty a princess Shane is in this video, pinching the sides of his gown to keep it from snagging on the ground – hilarious.

A few other funny updates.  Here’s a picture of outer space that Jack drew and hung on his own bedroom wall. 

I was tucking him in tonight and he was describing his artwork for me:  “that dark thing is a meat-eater (meteor), and that swirly thing is the Milky Wave (Milky Way)…”  Just can’t believe my baby is actually starting school!!  My mom sent him this backpack and lunchbox that he’s quite eager to wear:

Today was my day off and Fin and Shane let me sleep in until almost 8am!!  It was amazing.  Jack, however, still runs on 8hrs sleep – not much for a 4 year old, but that’s always been how he rolls.  So Travis got up and laid down with him at 6.  Jack was tossing and turning and trying everything to get Travis up and downstairs with him.  He finally resorted to paraphrasing a line from Wall-E, when the people are traveling back to Earth and the video is informing the people of 1 effect of having been lazy/not exercising.  Jack pulled that one out and told Travis “dad, I’m experiencing slight bone loss!” 

Fin also has been cracking us up lately with some line she picked up from God knows where.  Anytime the boys do something wild she doesn’t want them to do, she’ll tell “don’t do that!  It brings down the value!!”  And perhaps my favorite conversation between Fin and Jack that highlights their differences:

Travis: “oh, I think that grasshopper is hurt.  let’s leave him alone.”

Jack: “Yeah, maybe his mommy and daddy will come find him and take care of him.”

Fin: “or maybe a snake will come along and eat him!”

We went on a hike today and Shane, our expert bug catcher, caught tons of critters for our little critter / amphibian / reptile tank at home.  He and Jackie caught a couple frogs, but one little jumper was tough to capture.  Fin got frustrated watching the boys gently scoop and miss, so she pushed them aside and tried to stomp on it.  I yelped, which stopped her in her tracks before the frog had been completely flattened.  Fin noticed my concern and said “oh,” then she looked back and pointed at the lame frog and comforted me with “it’s ok mom, he’s still jumpin.”  Heart a gold, that kid.  She really cracks me up though.

Then there’s Shanie and his incredible etiquette.  He’s always excusing himself and apologizing for things Fin or Jack did.  It’s funny because Fin will own up to her naughties and say “no Shane, that was MY fault.”  On several occasions, he has interrupted restaurant conversation to say “cuse me! CUSE ME?!” and then when he has our attention, “my farted.” 

Apologies for the deteriorating quality of my photos!  I haven’t edited a picture in MONTHS, and most I take these days are with my iphone.  Here are 2 from our hike & picnic today:

Because my kids are so damn funny, of course…ahem.

Yesterday, I came home from the hospital in time to play with the kids, eat dinner as a family, and tuck everyone into bed.  It was fantastic.  While eating dinner, Jack asked, as he does everyday / night when I get home: “how was your day at the hops-ital mom?  Were there lots of sick people?  What happened to them?  Did you help them get better?”  Then he said “dad, are you a doctor?”  Travis then said “wellllll, yes, kind of.  But daddy helps people get healthy using technology…with his computer.”  Jack let out this hysterical laugh and said condescendingly, “daaaad! Computers don’t help people; they have buttons, and are used for things like games and PBSkids.org!”  We laughed so hard. 

Later, we put the kids to bed.  About 10 minutes after tucking them in, we heard Finley yell and start crying, so Travis and I ran upstairs to find her with barf everywhere.  We scooped her up, cleaned her off, and Travis rocked her in the chair.  She begged him to sleep in the rocking chair next to her bed, so he shot me the look.  I said “fine, bring her in our bed.”  A strange, Grinch-like smile curled across her little face.  When we got her into our bed, I laid down in bed with her, patted her hair and stroked her face until she started drifting off.  Then she said, in this scratchy little voice, “hey mom?  I stuck my hand down my mouf so the barf would come out.”  Sneaky little shit.

Our Frenchie can be a royal PITA, but he often provides much needed comic relief around here.  The dog is a clown.  My mom was out here visiting us this past weekend and really wanted to take Henny home with her.  Even though being dogless for a few weeks might’ve made life easier for us right now, we couldn’t part with him.  Our kids would have been devastated, for one.  And Travis and I have grown pretty fond of him, for two;)  Here is just a little taste of the comic relief he provides:

Our kids are rather amusing as well.  They’re so darn cute but I swear, the ages and stages we’re going through right now are really really hard to be going through all at once – there is RARELY silence around here.  The volume escalates so quickly and Fin’s temper usually means there’s 1 kid screaming through the house, running for his life, with a hot-head lunatic chasing closely behind him with her mouth wide open in case she catches him.  Not so peaceful.  Lots of quick tempers (ours included), and typical 2-4 year old behavior.  Drama drama drama.  I can’t even IMAGINE throwing a newborn into this mix. 

But they’re also at ages that are just so hysterical and cute to watch.  They sit and chat about stuff during mealtime.  They’ll ask each other questions and have little conversations, they’ll trade food, hold hands spontaneously, and sometimes help each other and share just because they like one another.  That’s my favorite thing to see. 

Travis and I have been trying to come up with a better way to reward / discipline Finley.  We have gotten into this rut with her where we’re constantly taking things away or threatening to take things away in punishment.  It’s just not very positive or productive.  She’s always outsmarting us, and we are always huffing and puffing and saying things like “fine Fin, you just lost the fruit snack I was going to give you / this piece of gum/ your treat for tonight / etc.”  We’ve pretty much incorporated all sorts of crap in our kids’ diets, just so we have something we can take away from Finley when she bites, acts ornery or defiant, throws stuff out the car windows (happened today, so she lost “window privileges”), takes her shoes off in public places just to be a stinker, etc.  ANYWAY, we have been trying to incorporate more ways to positively reward GOOD behavior from Finley, rare as it is;), so we instituted a HUGE sticker chart that hangs on the family room wall for each kid (who needs fancy artwork in a house trashed by toddlers). 

On the night of the sticker chart inception, we told the kids they would be able to earn their 1st stickers by staying in bed all night – no getting out of bed, no messing with each other, no coming downstairs, etc.  They were SO THRILLED about the possibility of earning a sticker that they all ran up to bed, kissed us goodnight, and we didn’t hear another peep from them. 

Travis and I always sneak back in the kids’ rooms before we go to bed to tuck them in again, cover them with blankets, etc.  When we opened the boys’  bedroom door, there were poop balls ALL OVER the floor.  Henny had been with me and Trav downstairs, so there was no puppy to blame it on.  We played detective and traced the trail right to Shane (wasn’t hard since there was poop smeared on his bed railing).  His hands were covered, but he was PASSED OUT. 

Apparently, the kid was SO freakin motivated by the damn stickers that he didn’t want to violate our “don’t get out of bed” rule for fear of losing his sticker.  So he took a dump in his diaper, scooped out the goodies with his hands, chucked them on his bedroom floor, wiped his hands off, and went back to sleep!!

Outsmarted as usual, Travis and I were left trying to figure out if that was sticker-worthy or not…we decided not.  But it was one hell of an effort!  Now Shane’s chart reads:

1. Telling us when diaper is dirty
2. Not getting out of bed at night…

Fin’s chart is my favorite though:

1. Not biting (she can earn 2 stickers / day for this – 1 if she doesn’t bite anyone before nap, and another if she doesn’t bite anyone between nap and bedtime)
2. Not screaming while Daddy is driving
3. Asking before opening Henny’s crate
4. Keeping shoes on during outings…her list goes on and on

We really struggled to find stuff for Jack’s sticker chart, since he really is so good most of the time.  He gets rewards for stuff like:

1. Practicing to ride his new 2 wheel bike
2. Helping mommy & daddy
3. Staying in bed in the mornings until 7 (hasn’t earned any in that column just yet, but we’re only a few hours away each day;)…

Even before the tears fully dried up and we started letting ourselves get excited about a 4th baby (despite the timing and all those silly details:), we had some gut-busting laughs over our little “oops.”  Here are some hysterical things that have been said that are too funny to let ourselves forget:

1. Travis to me right after I showed him my positive pee stick: “um, is it too late to give Henny back?” 
2. Travis: “well, I guess Finley wasn’t exactly a miracle afterall!”
3. My response to Travis after he told me his mom’s “another-act-of-God” reaction: “could be…or the devil.  Guess we’ll just have to wait and see if this kid is anything like our last spawn.”
4. We went to Steamboat with my family right after we had the +pregnancy test.  Travis and I decided we’d each sleep with one of the boys and stick Fin in the pack’n’play (as usual on trips).  My mom overheard and said “no, you guys should ALWAYS share a bed.”  Travis: “well, that hasn’t been working out too well for us lately; it’s sorta what got us into this in the 1st place!”
5. Me: “I’m going to call Dr. Mortken and ask him for our bag of worms back.” [Dr. Mortken was the urologist who did Travis’ varicocelectomy, which apparently restored fertility (we skipped out on the follow-up tests, so we have no idea what the #’s are, not that it matters obviously).  The term “bag of worms” is the medical description of a varicocele, which is a condition of dilated blood vessels that drain the, um, “stepchildren?” and can sometimes cause fertility issues.  The varicocele repair doesn’t restore fertility in lots of guys, but no one really understands why that is.  Apparently Travis was the small exception…or we’re just crazy lucky (I use the word “luck” optimistically here;)]
6. My grandmother’s response, after “congratulations,” to me telling her & my Pawpaw that Travis and I are expecting another baby: “well, I guess you might as well go ahead and have as much sex as you want now!  But then, after this one’s born, tell Travis he’s cut-off!”
7. Finley: “Hey, I gotta baby in my belly too!!  You can hold it when it comes out, but DON’T drop it!”
8. Finley: “Hey mom, you got milk in there again?  Maybe I have some?”  Fin has taken notice that “the girls are back in town.”  I have a feeling she is going to be VERY jealous when a new baby bellies up to the milk bar in December. 
9. Travis: “Oh, I’m SO going to shed a few more pounds just to seal the deal this time!  You WILL weigh more than me!”  Me: “Yes, and I will crush you for what you’ve done to me.” 

On another note, we had an “official” ultrasound today and all is well.  During the ultrasound I got really excited about the thought of #4.  I’m right around 14wks but who the hell knows; all the dates conflict.  Based on our blurred memories of possible conception dates, we thought maybe our due date was around Dec. 12th…but that’s not consistent with anything else.  Today’s ultrasound puts my due date at Dec. 1st.  To meet in the middle, we’re sticking with Dec. 5th, which we got from the earlier ultrasound Emilie did – should be most accurate because it was done ~4wks ago.  Point is, we still don’t know how or when this kid was conceived so we have no idea how old it really is either (ok, we know HOW it was conceived, just can’t believe it).  On a bright note, the baby’s ugly step twin (a fibroid) seems to have shrunken and become insignificant.  So that’s good I guess.  On the other hand, it was my excuse for having a large gut so early on.  Oh well.  I personally think this baby resembles a small, smiling piglet at the moment, especially in this picture:

Here’s another, perhaps more flattering / less pigletish, alien-baby picture:

The photos below are ones I’ll treasure.  They’re pictures of Travis showing the kids the images from our 1st ultrasound that my friend, Emilie, did for us, right after we told them we are going to have another baby in our family.  It was really adorable and they were all super excited and interested.  Jack studied all the images carefully to understand exactly what was what, and he asked lots of thoughtful questions.  They all agreed the baby looks like Ponyo.  [If you haven’t seen that movie, you’re missing out!] 

Here’s Fin demonstrating the baby’s position on its back:

[Note: Travis has had his “scarf” / mullet shaved since these pics were taken; he has also showered and is slightly less greasy;)  He was starting to look like “Travis the NASCAR driver” there for awhile, so I’m glad he’s back to clean cut MD/MBA Travis.  He’s in the hospital doing ophthalmology for the month of June, so he had to make the switch.]

update: just want to remind you all that the GIBTK charity belt is only available until June 1st and in limited quantity {hint: order soon!}!  Also, if you haven’t entered yet, the SkinnyKidz belt giveaway ends 5/7.  Follow SkinnyKidz on twitter & facebook, sign up for our newsletter, and add SkinnyKidz blog to your Google Reader!  For all of my friends, family, and bloggy buddies who have come out in strong support of our launch, you are SO deeply appreciated!   For those of you who have already made a purchase, especially my adorable little brother, Jer, who bought all of our belts and is now looking for kids to give them to, we love you!  Jena and I have put a lot of ourselves into this company and product, and this is only the beginning.  The momentum and wonderful feedback you all have given us has helped tremendously.  Keep spreading the word, especially if you spot a plumber under the age of 6 (sorry Christina, we’re talking about expanding sizes to include older kids!).

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Jack: “Mom, look at this boo boo on my foot.  The skin is still hurt.”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s getting better.  The amazing thing about the human body is that it can repair itself.  Right now, cells in your skin are sending signals to their friends to come and help it make new skin.  How cool is that?”

Jack: “Wow.  It heals itself?!”

Me: “Yup, the human body has amazing healing powers.”

——FLASH FORWARD ABOUT AN HOUR——-

Shane and I were choosing his outfit for the day.  We were sitting behind his bedroom door, which was ajar, looking in his closet.  Jack came tearing down the hallway and flung the door open with all his might.  I lunged, to keep it from hitting Shane, and blocked it with the outside of my wrist, which hurt!  I overdramatized slightly to make my point, since we have told the kids a kazillion times about playing with the doors like that.  When Jack saw me tending to me wrist, his instant response was:

“Mom, remember: the human body has AMAZING healing powers!”

Good thing he thinks quickly on his feet.

A conversation after a lunchtime episode at my favorite all-u-can-eat sushi joint…

Me: I think we need to work on our restaurant manners.

Jack: Why?

Me: Because it’s not considered good manners when you stand on your chair to reach across the table and grab every. single. strawberry. off a platter that was supposed to be for all of us to share.  And when you knock over your water cup on that way to grabbing the strawberries, that’s also not so polite. 

Jack: Oh.

Me:  And when I get up to go to the bathroom and the same EXACT incident happens with the new plate of strawberries I order for Shane & Fin (since you took theirs the 1st time), it’s really impolite.  Especially when you knock your water cup over, AGAIN.

Trav: To the kid’s credit, maybe table manners are something we’re lacking all around.  I mean, Shane played video games on your iphone all through lunch, and Fin was picking soybeans out of the edamame pods to throw at the guy sitting behind us.  She also pissed herself because she didn’t want anyone to get her food while she was in the bathroom.  And the time we did actually visit the restroom, she came back bragging about her gigantic caca.  Plus, you and I did put down around 100 pieces of sushi between the 2 of us, in addition to the appetizers we “helped” the kids with.  I’m not sure what Emily Post would’ve said about any of that.

This has been the strangest day EVER; it was sunny, then it snowed these HUGE, gorgeous, chunky snowflakes, then it rained, and then it stayed light until 7pm because of the time change.  To top it off, the kids and I didn’t leave the house and I was in my pajamas today until 5:30pm.  Weird, as that is NOT something I ever do (not since post C-section spinal headache anyway).  We were up past 2am last night hosting a little get-together with some neighbor friends to watch the Pacquiao – Clottey fight, and of course our kids didn’t sleep in this morning or anything.  A quick story from our night: we planned wings and beer for fight night.  Of course, we’re wing AND beer snobs, so they had to be specialty wings, and it had to be our favorite Colorado microbrew on draught.

So Travis got home with his beer for the kegerator, hooked it up, and watched the CO2 meter plummet instantly.  Empty CO2 = non-pressurized kegerator = flat beer and non-functional tap.  So no draught beer.  Travis was devastated.

Then, the wings were cold by the time our friends were on their way over, so Travis said “I’ll just put them in the oven,” and he stuffed them in, still in their styrofoam boxes.  I was BURNED out at this point from a really long day (8 mile run, lots of cleaning, etc), and so was he.  So when I asked Trav, admittedly in a somewhat nagging tone, if styrofoam can go in the oven, he was annoyed and said it would be fine.  So I let it go.

About 5 minutes later, I came downstairs and asked Travis if he’d lit a candle or something.  He shrugged and said “no, but it smells like one.”  I ran for the oven, and of course, the styrofoam had melted all over it.  I threw a mini tantrum about the toxic chemicals that had, no doubt, absorbed into the wings, and we moved on.

Our friends got here, and 1 had brought a homemade pizza.  He was so proud of it and told us how he’d spent several hours slaving over it and 3 others just like it.  All fresh ingredients and made completely to perfection.  All we had to do was put it in the oven.  So Travis did that.  Then we all went downstairs to play with the kids in the playroom, but Travis disappeared for a few minutes, so I ran upstairs to see what was up.  I walked in, only to find him hunched over the oven in mourning, with the evidence all over his sauce-stained hands.  He looked up with the most guilty face ever, I shot him the “I-know-you-killed-the-pizza” glare, and he told me “I don’t know what happened, it just lost integrity when I tried to take it out!”  There were pizza guts ALL OVER the oven floor and the oven door.  I watched Travis’ pathetic attempt to fit the puzzle pieces of crust back together, and then slap the cheese, chopped onions, green peppers, and pepperoni haphazardly back on top.  Something just didn’t look quite right;)  Wish I’d snapped the picture when Travis was still wearing the toppings on his arms:

I told him he had to go give our friend, John, the bad news.  We did the nudge / shove, “you go do it,” “NO, YOU go do it!”  Finally, Travis solemnly broke the news that he’d wrecked John’s masterful creation.  Thankfully, John was a few drinks in and took it in stride.  He was a really good sport about it, but we felt awful.  Travis might be getting a pizza tray for his birthday (which is this week!).  I tried to get him a kilt with his family’s tartan, but man skirts are freakin EXPENSIVE.

Anyway, in spite of its perils, last night was a good time!  Lots of drinks, lots of laughs, and a good boxing match.

Speaking of Match, I am dying of anticipation right now.  I was calm as a cucumber for most of application, interview, Match season, but I’ve actually been pretty anxious today.  I am having horrifying flashbacks of last year’s shock and horror, when I got the email on Black Monday.  “Black Monday” is the term used in medical education to refer to the Monday of Match Week, when applicants find out if we matched or not.  Hopefully mine will not be “black” this year.  The email does not contain any information other that to tell us “congrats,” or “sorry.”  Details for those who match don’t come until envelope opening on Thursday of Match Week.

At this point, I am just feeling CRAZY for ever worrying over the order of my rank list.  How presumptuous.  Right now, I’m in the “bargaining” stage: “oh please, oh please let me match; I’ll be the best resident, I’ll never complain about work-life imbalance or having to live in a crappy city!  I just want to be a dermatologist, I’ll go ANYwhere!”  Seriously, Travis and I are just on edge waiting for that email tomorrow.  We’ve both decided that if we get good news tomorrow, we’ll hit the ceiling, and enjoy the rest of the week when we get to find out WHERE I matched.

Our plan is to get up at the crack of dawn to do P90X, then maybe bundle the kids (tomorrow’s high is 50, but somehow it’s supposed to snow…only in Colorado;) and go for a run.  For some reason, I just don’t want to be cooped up in the house waiting for the results.  Travis doesn’t have to go to work & school until later in the day.  We just have to be back 30 minutes after the email arrives for Shane’s speech therapy session.  So that’s the plan.  SO. MUCH. BUILD UP.  And it’ll all be over in a matter of seconds, as soon as I open the email and read the 1st sentence.

Here are some funny videos that put a smile on my face.  This is what happens as a result of our kids waking up and coming downstairs to find us doing P90X:

And this is Shane-bug counting away:

Wish me luck; tomorrow I’ll either find out I’m definitely going to be a dermatologist, or that I’m still just hopeful that someday a path into the field will present itself if I keep working for it.  Big day, big day.

As eager as I am for this incident to recede into the blurred depths of my memory, I thought I’d document it for future laughs…you know how horrid things become hilariously funny after long periods of time?!

So, there was an accident.  Actually, it started as a potty type accident, which led to a small injury type of accident.  Finley is fully potty trained (wears underwear in public places, tells us when she needs to potty, etc.) except for pullups at nap / bedtime.  But yesterday she woke up from naptime with really awful diarrhea.  She was yelling to me from her room, and as soon as I opened her door, Finley was telling me “mommy, I do diarrhea in my pullup.  Change me please; I have a bad rash.  I need medicine.”  [If you haven’t heard Fin talk, trust me, that was verbatum].  So, I complied. 

After I cleaned her up, I ran upstairs to get her some new pants.  While up there, I heard her SCREAM “mommy!”, then she started crying really hard, so I raced back down to find her standing in a puddle of diarrhea that had literally shot through her underwear and pooled all over the floor.  She was standing in front of the baby gate that blocks the bottom of the stairway, so I was trying to figure out how to open it to get to her to save her from her own poo, without knocking her over into her own poo puddle.  So I opened it a tiny bit, grabbed her, and attempted a jump OVER the poo puddle.  Well, it was a good plan in theory, but in the paraphrased words of Fancy Nancy, I slipped, I tripped, and I did a double flip.  I slid through a brown puddle and landed directly onto my kneecap…not only was it the most disgusting experience of my life, but IT HURT LIKE HELL!  Finley was SO worried about me she started chanting “it’s okay mommy, you’re okay.”  She kissed my knee a bunch.  Poor kid.  Then she started yelling “I POOPED ON GABBA GABBA!!  OH NO, I did DIARRHEA on Gabba Gabba underpants!”  Sadly, I had to toss her favorite Yo Gabba Gabba undies.  I think we were both traumatized by the grossness of the incident.  My knee is a little swollen and stiff, but after mopping the floor and lots of bath time, I think we are going to make it;)

Making out with her chocolate chip cookie (what can I say, she’s a passionate eater, like her mama!):

Shane caught a grasshopper today.  It was like my own little science class; I loved it.  We also found a ladybug, which I’m choosing to see as a good omen for the week ahead (HOLY CRAP, Match Week is pretty much here!!):

In the photo below, Shane is holding the grasshopper, Fin has the gnawed on fingers, and Jack’s long, markered fingers are on the bottom: