That Is Definitely NOT A Garden Shed!

The morning commute in my car is never short of interesting. Especially when it so accurately details the different ways my kids’ brains work.

Theo: Look!!!

Pheobe: *GASP* A garden shed!!!

Theo: No, it’s a hawk! Look!

Pheobe: Yeah…no. I’m pretty sure it’s a garden shed. It’s a little house…in a garden…soooo…it’s a garden shed.

Theo: Pheobe! *angrily* Look up! On the wire! It’s a hawk!

Pheobe: Oh! Yeah, that is definitely NOT a garden shed.

It’s conversations like this that caused my son to look at me the other day and say, “You know mommy, sometimes I don’t really like Pheobe. When I don’t like her I think it would be better to just go sleep outside where it is quite.”

My response, “Theo, honey. A lot of us feel that way, but remember, she lives in Pheobe Land and we are all just visiting.”

Pheobe Zen

Jack and the Penis Stock

I don’t know about other people’s kids, but mine are always chatty on the car ride to school every morning. By chatty I mean they don’t shut up from the moment I start the car to the moment I push them out the door as we slowly drive by their schools. There are mornings when I’m pretty sure they don’t even come up for air, and they become endless run on sentences. No punctuation. No structure. Just the longest word in the world. Needless to say, I often end up tuning them out. They could be talking about the affects global warming has on penguin habitats, and I would have no idea. Just me being blissfully numb to the run on sentences in the backseat.

As most mothers will tell you, we tend to be “ok” with all the noise kids make, even if it involves screaming. We shrug off the thumps and bumps, and we only listen a tiny bit after a scream to make sure no serious injury has occurred. The part that actually gets us to listen is silence. The minute it’s silent we start to worry. As much as I would enjoy a silent car ride in the morning, I’d rather all the jibber jabber than a brief spurt of silence. That spurt of silence means only one thing in my car, someone has done something inappropriate. Due to my keen listening skills ability to tune my children out, I have no idea what was said prior to this silence the other day. All I know is nothing audible was said followed by, “Pheobe, that’s not what I said. I said BEAN stock.”

Honestly, what on earth could a five year old get the word “bean” confused with? Why the whisper? Wait…another whisper followed by another “Pheobe! That’s NOT what I said! I said BEAN stock!” Spleen. Spleen was the only word I could think of that would drive my son through the roof. Duh! After stopping the world from ending the argument in the back seat, it was time to get to the root of the problem. The silence.

Me: What word did you think your brother said?

Pheobe: …..

Me: He said BEAN stock.

Pheobe: …..

Me: …..

Pheobe: *looks at Theo*

Me: …..

Pheobe: *giggle*

Me: PHEOBE!

Pheobe: *whispers* penis

So there you have it. She thought he said “PENIS stock” not “BEAN stock”. Suddenly images of Jack burying seeds in the ground in his back yard, only to wake up to a giant dildo that reaches the sky jutting up from where the seeds once were, go flying through my head. Jack climbs the giant dildo into the clouds, and comes upon a giant vagina with an appetite for destruction and doom! He searches for the golden egg as most men do only to find it hidden in the most obvious spot. Trust me men, it’s very simple to find. He grabs the egg, and slides back down the dildo, takes out his ax and goes all Lorena Bobbitt on it. It falls to the ground with a mighty thud as Jack rejoices in FINALLY finding the golden egg. <<<Obviously NOT the same image my five year old daughter had in her head, thankfully.

Creativity Is A Process Best Served Uniquely

I’m staying home today. Unexpectedly, but I’m home. I drove to work with all intentions of actually working, despite the itch to create something. When I got to work, I worked, had a coffee, worked, blah, blah, blah. Still itching to create something. This may or may not be a common problem on Monday mornings, or all mornings for that matter. Oh well, work must be done so bills can get paid. Yet another morning was going to pass without so much as a hint of fabulous creation coming from my finger tips. My laptop at home will sit cold and dormant, my sewing machine will continue to collect dust, and my drawing pencils will remain unsharpened. I obviously have some sort of creating addiction. Good bye exciting possibility of creating THE thing that will make me famous. *slowly slides off of chair into a dramatic heap on the floor*

*Begin back story* I know I complain a lot some about my kids. It’s kind of a nature thing for parents to do. They’re up too early, they stink, they’re messy, they’re really gross, and they’re loud. You know, the usual. Truth be told, however, I friggin’ love those little bastards. I kiss them in their sleep and hug them every chance I get; but there are some days when I love them so much I could burst. Today, my friends, is one of those days. *end back story*

At 10:30, almost the end of my usual creative urge time, my phone rings. It’s the school and Theo is sick. I have never been so excited to deal with a nauseous child in my life! As I walked out of the office I cheered, “Hooray for vomit!” I’m sure my boss is now questioning why he hired me. So, now we’re home. Little man is in bed fast asleep, and I’m sitting on the couch fondling my laptop with my finger tips. I caught up with reading some other blogs, and have started to lay out a plan of action to better deal with this creative itch. I’m not sure how well my plan will work I often lack follow through, but I need to get this blog going I’ve said that way too many times before. I also need to draw more and have some intimate moments with my sewing machine. Now to tie them all together and become rich and famous. Wish me luck!

Through The Solar System

You say Honda Pilot, I say oversized grocery getter space ship. A nice big grey spaceship that takes me and my children for a ride through the solar system every morning. You would think that getting kids into a whistling shit can jet powered spaceship every morning would be easy, but no, it’s just like every other morning. Even astronauts need to brush their teeth, put on clean underwear, and match their shoes.

Over the course of the last year we have mapped out the entire solar system for our morning commute. The house is Venus (I obviously chose that one) The general store is the moon, our friend’s house on the way is Mars (it’s filled with boys), the daycare is Pluto, the sharp turn on the road is Saturn (the tired tracks are the rings), the school is Mercury, and the day camp is the sun. I’m guessing my work is the landing pad, but my fellow astronauts are never with me upon my arrival.

For the most part, our daily trip through space is pretty much the same. We talk about the different atmospheres in space, if aliens are real, and how close to the sun you can get before you start to melt. We talk about what kind of cheese the moon would be made of and if there is chocolate milk in the milky way. We picture ourselves jumping across clouds as we come back into orbit, and sliding down rainbows. You know, the usual.

This morning it started pouring about 5 minutes before we left, and then came the thunder and lightening. I could tell that getting the kids, especially my daughter, out the door was going to prove……difficult. I ended up going outside and moving the car to the end of the walkway so the raincoat clad children could scurry out and jump right in. As I jumped in the drivers seat Theo yells, “Meteor!” as a clap of thunder boomed.

Suddenly our usual safe, but educational, ride through the solar system was a dangerous adventure peppered with meteors. As the space ship took off, we hit a puddle. “We’ve been hit!” both kids yelled. Every puddle we hit was another meteor strike. Would we make it? No one knew. They counted each strike, and talked about the aliens would come and save us if we got stranded. By the end we were struck by 10 (maybe more) meteors, but our ship seemed to be in one piece.

We survived today’s ride through the solar system, but there’s no telling what tomorrow will bring.