Tag Archives: things kids say

the things they say #8 – unnameable pouches

easter collageIt’s been a really full-on couple of weeks what with it being the easter holidays and the fact that I’ve still been trying to work (ok, only one day but still… ), and write and blog and do my illustration course… and then of course there was the post that went huge and got me into many an inspiring Twitter conversation about education.

But the boys are back to school tomorrow and my blog hits have settled down again so, back to business! This feels like a gear change from recent posts but I do love recording the random things my toddler says, so here’s this month’s edition of silliness from my (just turned) three year old:

  • He loves to draw and currently produces about ten pictures a day – on a slow day! He usually draws with great intensity, taking more and more pens out of the case as he goes. Lids fly everywhere, scribbles adorn the table and ink gets all over his hands. The other day I pointed out he had brown ink all the way up his arms. “Wow!” he said gleefully “It look like a crusty bum!” I blanched, I mean… I suppose.. but thankfully he continued “Yes, a hot crusty bum!” at which point *PING* I realised that some of the marks were in a kind of cross shape and the whole thing was reminiscent of a hot cross bun. Of course. What else could he possibly have meant?
    • He’s noticed that ‘time’ is a thing for us (mostly, it has to be admitted, in the context of “Argh, no, is that the…?!?” rather than, “Oh, no rush, there’s plenty of…”) and has come up with an answer to the inevitable question. If you ask “What’s the time?” in his presence he always pipes up with “Seven pasty nine.” No matter if it’s morning, noon or night, whether he’s racing around outside in the sunshine or being tucked up in bed in the dark, it’s always and only “Seven pasty nine.” Sounds quite a tasty time of day though so I have no complaints!
    • Child of the Eighties? Remember Thundercats?  A few months ago it was available on Amazon Prime (yes, the original version!), and all three boys loved watching it together. They still play Thundercats games together now where they race around acting out the characters. My three-year-old likes to play their huge-haired, muscly leader, “Lion-o”. Except he calls him “Lion-mauve”. I rather like it – makes me think of Lion-o in a hand-knitted cardi. And what’s not to like about that?!
    • I opened the blinds the other day to a sea of mist. “Yay!” said the toddler “It’s froggy outside!”
  • We have parking meters in our town that give you a ticket for a FREE half hour of parking. It’s lucky you can get them for free as the toddler thinks the parking metres are “Minions” and loves to go and say hello and ask them for a ticket. They’re very obliging! You’re probably imagining we have lovely yellow parking meters – that would make sense, right?
     
    minion 2parking meter

    Minion or parking meter? Spot the difference!

  • And finally – one from my eight-year-old. During an average lunchtime conversation recently he made reference to “the pouch that no one dares name…”. He looked at us as if we would know what he was talking about, but we didn’t. After a little encouragement it was revealed he was talking about a scrotum, or scrotums in general. I’ll never view them in the same light again.*snort*
    Little Hearts, Big Love

the things they say #6

My youngest son is nearly three now and is by and large a lovely, laid-back little boy. He definitely has his moments (in fact he went to nursery in his pyjamas this morning because after I’d dressed him he undressed himself then persuaded his brothers to help him back into his pyjamas which he then refused POINT BLANK to take off…  but they were new and very stylish so, meh) but mostly he’s easy going. In fact, a lot of the time he’s so deliciously cute – with his squishable huggableness and wonderful toddler language – that I can’t bear the idea of him getting older. I just want to keep my little cuddly mummy’s boy forever.

minions talkingObviously that’s not an option, (and I wouldn’t want it to be, not really… not really, really) but I figure at least I’ve written about a fair few of his lovely (and not so lovely) moments in this blog. I can imagine reading back in years to come and having a fond chuckle.

On that note, here’s what he’s been up to recently:

1. He spent a lot of December singing Christmas songs and carols. His absolute favourite is Jingle Bells but he also likes Away in a Manger.  Here he eschewed the traditional lyrics about ‘Lord Jesus’ and sang enchantingly about ‘Little Old Cheeses.’

2. The other day he was lying on the bed (as I was trying to make it – he’s ‘helpful’ like that) and kept saying “Wrap me up like a goonie!” I had no idea at all what a ‘goonie’ was (although as a child of the eighties I was reminded of the classic film of that name!) but he seemed happy as long as I wrapped the blanket around and around him when he said this. It wasn’t until later when I repeated the story to his brothers that I found out what he meant. ‘Oh, a goonie! ” they exclaimed, “That’s what he calls a genie!” Apparently he’d seen the picture on the front of an Aladdin DVD. Goonies do look exactly like they’re wrapped in a blanket, he’s right.

3. He loves shopping. Seriously I have never known a child love it so much. Every morning after we drop his brothers off at school he asks “Can we go to the shoppings now?” and is most displeased if I say no. His favourite place of all is The Metro Centre – a huge shopping centre near (ish) us. His name for it though is “Dementor centre.” This always makes me think of the dementors from Harry Potter – those creatures who drain “peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them”. If you’ve ever visited the Metro Centre on a Saturday in December you’d know how apt this name is!

4. All my boys have had a different word for breakfast. My eldest called it ‘Brekkits’, my second-born, “brefkits”. My youngest, though, has the best word of all: “Gretgrits”. We all use this word now and I suspect we’ll be doing so for years to come.

5. Star Wars fever hit our house a few weeks ago (no surprises there) and although the toddler is too little to see the film he still got caught up in the excitement. He’s been running all over the place declaring he’s main baddie Kylo Ren. Only he gets it a bit wrong and shouts “I’m Carolyn!” I’ve nothing against the name but, well…

kylo ren

Does this look like a ‘Carolyn’ to you?

6. He’s had a sense of humour for a while now but more recently has been cracking ‘jokes’. These are possibly the worst jokes I’ve heard, in fact the only reason we know they’re jokes is because he repeats them and laughs manically. The other day he called me ‘Mummy Pig’, I realised this was a joke when he followed it up with “Haha! I said you Mummy Pig! Hahahhhaha.” The same thing happened when his friend was going home after a playdate: “Bye Bye, Daddy!” he shouted, then, “Haha, I said ‘Bye Bye Daddy’ to Luke hahahahhahaha!”. A career as a stand up comedian beckons for sure…

7. I love seeing empathy develop in my boys. Last night my eldest collapsed to the floor complaining of cramp in his foot. The toddler immediately shouted for me: “Mummy! Get Charlie and Lola! (a cold pack we keep in the fridge with their picture on it)” then he patted his big brother on the back and said “Don’t worry, I will keep you better.” My heart melted… until five minutes later when the same thing happened and instead of responding with gentle affection he ran past his brother cackling “Haha! You got crampings! Hahahaha!” Remember that sense of humour I was telling you about…

***

Linking up with From the Mouths of Babes at Little Hearts Big Love.

Little Hearts, Big Love

how to win an argument with a toddler

Have you ever accidentally made a promise to a toddler that you couldn’t keep? I think it happens to most of us – things often don’t go quite as planned when you’re dealing with little people and feeling a bit frazzled. Luckily, as parents, we get quite skilled at thinking on our feet to get ourselves out of it though.

polar bearI found myself in this situation with my two-year-old the other day. It started when we’d just dropped his big brother off somewhere and were getting back into the car. He was wriggly, the weather was foul and rain was slashing in my face as I battled to strap him into his car seat – so naturally he decided it was the perfect time to strike up a conversation:

Him: (enthusiastically pointing) “Mummy, we go this way!”

Me: (not really concentrating given ‘wind and rain in face’ situation) “Yes, ok we’ll go that way.”

Him: (sensing my weakness) “Yay! we go that way… and get a polar bear?”

Me: (confused) “A polar bear?”

Him: (as if it was my suggestion): “A polar bear?! What a good idea! Hooray! Let’s get a polar bear!”

Me: “Ummm, poppet I’m not sure we can get a polar bear… ”

Him: (adamant) “We get a polar bear, you SAID we get a polar bear!”

Me: “Well, no I didn’t actually, I’m not sure where we’d even find a polar bear, we’re actually just going home now.”

Him: (suddenly furious) “No! We NOT going home! WE. GETTING. A. POLAR. BEAR!”

Me: (trying to salvage the situation) “We’re not, but oooh! I know… why don’t we go home and make polar bear BISCUITS? You love biscuits! POLAR BEAR biscuits. BISCUITS!  *thinks if I say polar bear and biscuits enough times maybe I can win this one*

Him: “Ok, yay! We make polar bear biscuits!”

Me *thinks* Phew, got out of that one. *pats self on back*

My self-satisfaction didn’t last long though when we got home and couldn’t find the polar bear biscuit cutter. Which is because we’ve never actually owned a polar bear biscuit cutter. Dur.

Never mind I thought breezily, we’ll just make biscuit dough and shape it into polar bear shapes freestyle, who needs a cutter anyway? Cutters are for wimps!

Oh, but then it turned out we didn’t have enough sugar to make biscuits of any kind. I suppose I could have gone out to buy some (I could even have bought a polar bear cutter at the same time – if they exist) but remember that driving wind and rain I mentioned? There had to be a better solution…

And I found it! Presenting our very special…jam tarts

Jam tarts! Made with sugar-free dough and plenty of strawberry jam (some recipes include sugar but the jam is quite sweet enough in my opinion).

And you know how I sold these distinctly un polar-bear-shaped treats to him? I just told him that jam tarts were “the sort of biscuits polar bears love to eat!”

He loved them: they were delicious and no one had to go out in the rain.

Or find space to house a polar bear.

And then the fun began...

Little Hearts, Big Love

magical zebras – things they say #5

When I was pregnant with my third child I looked forward to lots of things: baby snuggles – of course, gazing into my newborn’s eyes – naturally… having to change my bed sheets at 3am because the baby had vomited milk everywhere and obviously he was in my bed because it’s not like he’d sleep anywhere else – er, not so much.

But what I really couldn’t wait for was hearing him learn to talk. I’d been through this stage twice before with his older brothers and knew what fun it could bring.

dancing minions

And I’m pleased to say it’s lived up to expectations – my toddler is 2 1/2 now and makes me smile and laugh on a daily, if not hourly, basis with the things he comes out with.

A particular favourite of mine is his use of the word “awollawong” when requesting ‘another one’ of anything. Because he tends to want more of, well, most things this is something he says a lot! “Can have awollawong drink?”, “Peese have awollagwong Lego?” or just, “Mummy, I want awollawong!”. It’s one of those words I find myself using too – it rolls off the tongue nicely, try it!

Another of his toddlerisms regularly occurs when he tries to join in his older brothers’ games. Aged 8 and 6, they both love Harry Potter and often enact magical duels where they stand pointing wands (or pencils) at each other shouting various spells in ringing tones: “Stupify!” “Imperious!” “Avada Kedavra!”

Given his awe of his big bro’s, the toddler obviously joins in these duels too, to the best of his ability. He’s all wild enthusiasm and very little accuracy so he tends to charge into the fray bellowing spells at the top of his lungs. Maybe it’s because “Avada Kedavra” sounds so much like ‘abracadabra’ that it appeals to him, but that’s definitely his spell of choice. Only he gets it a bit wrong… off he rushes towards his brothers, pencil in hand, little voice exclaiming:

“I got it – a zebra!”

Who could resist a spell like that?

The good thing is, such linguistic silliness doesn’t end with the toddler years, as a recent conversation with my six-year-old showed me. We were discussing his school’s ‘no jewellery’ policy and his remark on the subject was:

“It doesn’t matter – I don’t really like jewellery anyway, I just like spare diamonds lying around.”

Well, I mean… don’t we all?!

Meanwhile, my eight-year-old obviously has talking down to a complex art (honestly, sometimes he just won’t STOP talking!) but even he is not immune to the odd mishearing:

8yo: “Today was brilliant!”

Me: “That’s great to hear!”

8yo: “Yes, I was so excited to see my friends that I got a dolphin mouth!”

Me: “Um… you got a… what?”

8yo: “You know… like you had after giving birth?”

Me: “Ummm…” *realisation dawns* “Oh! you mean an endorphin rush!”

Possibly my favourite mishearing ever – the idea of him running round with an enormous, bouncy dolphin nose really made me laugh… not to mention the image it created in my mind of me gazing fondly at a newborn baby, with a dolphin snout in the middle of my face. I mean, would I be nuzzling  the baby with my nose? Would I be making dolphin clicking noises as I did so? The mind boggles.

What have your kids said that’s made you laugh recently? I’d love to hear!

 

Little Hearts, Big Love

Lego wedding

I’m a big fan of Lego – I love the way it encourages creativity, concentration and imaginative play. My sons and I have whiled away many an hour happily sitting on the floor building, and I’m getting much better at sharing my blocks these days too.

I’ve got three boys and the older two have been getting Lego for birthday and christmas presents for years now so we’ve amassed quite a collection. We haven’t remotely kept all the various kits separate though and now have a messy box-load of the stuff which includes Ninjago (lots of ninjas, flying machines and fighty bits), Chima (weird claws, beaks and flames from what I can gather), City (houses, shops, beach-side diners) Hobbit (creatures and scenery), superhero (vehicles and set pieces) and even a sprinkling of Lego Friends (mostly pink). With all those to chose from, the boys come up with loads of different creations and i never know what they’re going to come up with next. The following is an example:

lego wedding

8yo son: “Look – we’ve made a lego wedding! Bride, husband, guests, person doing the wedding, singer…”
Me: “Great!… And who’s that over there?” (on the left)
8yo: “Oh, that’s just someone having his head chopped off for trying to kill the bride.”
 

Just your average wedding then…

There is, apparently, a proper Lego wedding set available but I bet it’s not a patch on this creation. I wonder what the dress code was?

Little Hearts, Big Love

celebrity look-alikes?

Waaaaay back in 2010/11 I had another blog. It was part of a babywares business I ran with my husband and when the business closed the blog went with it. We kept the blog posts on a computer somewhere though because we had mostly written about our kids and wanted to keep those memories.

boys at kirkley

My oldest two back in 2011. I think they’re looking at insects (not much has changed, then… )

This summer I decided I would dig that old blog out and share a few old posts. When I found this post it actually made me laugh out loud  – I’d totally forgotten all about these incidents! It’s from back in March 2011 when I my (then) youngest son was eighteen months old:

Like most babies, my toddler recognised the faces of those closest to him when he was very young. As is the norm, his eyes lit up when he saw Mummy and Daddy. Pretty early on he started saying ‘Dada’ to my husband, which soon became ‘Daddy’, and after that he learnt to say ‘Mummy’ when he saw me. So he knows who we are. He knows what we look like. Of that I am sure.

And yet…

Last Saturday I was flicking through a magazine while the boys entertained themselves happily around my ankles as they (sometimes) do. I paused for a moment on the celebrity pages, casting my eyes over the latest gossip. My 18mo wandered over to me and looked at the photos there. Suddenly his little face lit up, and with great joy and certainty he pointed and said “Daddy!”

Who had he seen, you might wonder? Bradley Cooper perhaps? Johnny Depp? Dermot O’Leary? Oh no. No one like that.

Jennifer Aniston.

I chuckled to myself as I said “That’s not Daddy it’s Jennifer Aniston” : a phrase I can’t say I ever expected to utter. Ha ha, the idea of my stubbly, bespectacled husband being a dead-ringer for Jen with her glossy mane of hair and perfect Hollywood skin. Oh and her gender, of course.

But that wasn’t the end of my son’s curious misconceptions. A few days later he was messing about with his dad when he suddenly spotted his Cliff Richard calendar*. I believe this month Cliff is depicted wearing a rather garish shirt and stroking a collection of fake parrots. But one look at this image and he pointed, and delightedly declared “Mummy!”

Great. I look like Cliff Richard. Caressing birds. I may need to rethink my beauty regime.

So, what do you think? Do we get his eyes checked? Or his brain?

*For the sake of my husband’s reputation I should probably point out that he only possesses such a calendar as a result of a long running joke with a friend, who has been sending him one every year for the past 15 years!

And now… that toddler is a couple of weeks away from his sixth birthday. When I got dressed up to go to a wedding the other day he told me I looked ‘beautiful’ (a heartmelt moment) so I assume he’s moved on from thinking I look like Sir Cliff. His younger brother recently had some strange ideas about my physical appearance though so perhaps I am odder-looking than I ever thought possible?

Oh, and my husband has now been receiving Cliff Richard Calendars for twenty years as part of that running gag. And in all that time Cliff appears not to have aged a day. Perhaps he’s not such a bad person to resemble after all.

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Little Hearts, Big Love

piranha care

piranha

Artist’s impression of a piranha… oh ok, MY impression of a piranha. I never said I could draw.

My boys sing a lot – all manner of things from ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, to ‘The Final Countdown’ to Katy Perry’s ‘Roar’. Many of the songs my older two (seven and five) sing are ones they’ve learned at school – often songs about recycling or friendship or, given that our village school is C of E, hymns. A favourite one a while back was a version of the Lord’s Prayer which my then-four-year-old managed to mishear in quite spectacular fashion. So far I’ve failed to write it down anywhere so I thought I’d blog about it now, as I really don’t want to forget it!

The correct words to the hymn are: “Our Father, who is in heaven, may your name be honoured and praised.”

My son’s version is slightly more… interesting. Wandering round the house one day I overheard him singing enthusiastically:

“Our Father who works in heaven, may you maim piranhas wrong way!”

I could just imagine him singing that at school – he’s a really enthusiastic singer too so I can clearly see him sitting on the front row and belting it out joyfully. I could hardly bring myself to correct him.

Is there a right way to maim piranhas do you suppose? Answers on a postcard…

Little Hearts, Big Love