Das Not Funny! Friday: Orphaned Ninjas

After my previous post, y'all are going to think I'm bipolar by following it with today. But geesh, somebody's got to lighten the mood around here, right?

So, here's a long overdue, Das Not Funny! Friday! Not sure what Das Not Funny! Friday is? Click here to find out.

These are from the last several months. Good thing funny stuff doesn't go bad.

I'm sure y'all have noticed that I've not exactly been completely emotionally normal lately. A while back I had been especially short tempered with the kids, yelled at them, said some things that wasn't patient or kind or edifying to a loving environment in our home.

I sat the older four kids down at the table to read to them and before I started, I took a deep breath, began to cry and apologized to them.

"Guys, I'm really sorry. I haven't been kind or gentle or patient with all of you lately. Mommy needs to do better. I'm really, really sorry."

With a sad look on her face, Ashlee climbs into my lap, snuggles up to me, pats me gently and says, "It's okay Mommy. Daddy needs some work too."

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Often, when the kids are picking on me Luke will tease with them and tell them to "stop messing with his wife!"

Luke and I were in the kitchen hugging and kissing. Aaron comes into the room, stops in his tracks and says, "Hey! Stop kissing my wife!"

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Ashlee is smitten with Abigail. Actually, babies in general. It's not uncommon for Abigail to spend most of her time on Ashlee's hip, wrestling on the floor with Ashlee, kissed by Ashlee, tickled by Ashlee, hugged by Ashlee..... you get the idea. So when Luke offered for Ashlee to give Abigail a bottle while I was at Bible study on Monday night, Ashlee was over the moon happy.

A little while later, I got this text from Luke:

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Me: "Ella, please don't play with those, okay?"

Ella: "But Mommy, my tummies are hurtin'!"

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Our boys are into anything Ninja/Star Wars/Karate/Army. Basically, your typical boy stuff. Lately, Lucas and Aaron both walk around singing theme songs to the shows they like to watch. Aaron's especially make me giggle.

Aaron: "Teenage Ninja Ninja Turtles. Ninjas in a half shell. Turtle Tower!"

But my favorite is,

"Go, go, go, go, go, go Power Rangers! Mighty, mighty orphan Power Rangers!"

Those poor, orphaned Ninjas. ;)

Y'all have a great weekend.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Poop and weapons. What else do you expect?

I figured it's time for some laughs around this joint. I know I could use some. What better than a Das Not Funny! Friday to give me a good chuckle?

A few days ago I was in desperate need of a hair cut. I decided to take Ashlee over to my grandmas and let Elizabeth go with me. On the way over to my grandmas Elizabeth, Ashlee and I started talking about babies.

Y'all have to understand, Ashlee is a baby lover. She spends the majority of her day kissing, hugging, screeching in the loudest voice possible talking to Abigail and trying with all her might to make her laugh. So I figured it would only be natural for Ashlee to want several babies of her own.

"Ashlee, how many babies do you think you want to have when you grow up?" I asked, glancing in the rear view mirror.

"OH, NO! NO! NO!" she said, waving her arms in front of her, "I'm not having any babies. I'll adopt some though!"

"What?" I said shocked, "You don't want to have any babies from your belly? Why not?"

"Because," she said, as a look of terror crept across her face, "I don't want to be pooping any babies out of my butt! No.thank.you!"

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We live in a town with limited restaurant options which means we frequent the same places often. The older 3 really don't need my help in the bathroom anymore, and when we're in a place that's smaller and if I can see the bathroom doors, I'll let them go on their own.

But, I'm always telling the kids that if a stranger approaches them in the bathroom they are to be nice and polite but if they start asking them too many questions they are to simply say, "My Mom is expecting me back at the table" and then politely excuse themselves and come straight to me.

One afternoon I took the biggest 2 girls out for a lunch date. Elizabeth went to use the bathroom and, of course, a few minutes later Ashlee had to go. Elizabeth emerges from the bathroom giggling, loudly, following quickly by Ashlee doing the same thing.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Mom," Ashlee said through spurts of giggles, "Wizabets and I were in the bathroom washing our hands and I said 'Hi' to her..."

"and I said," Elizabeth interrupted, stifling her own laughter, "My Mom is expecting me back at the table."

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One of the ways we discipline Aaron is to take away any toy resembling a weapon. Just threatening a day without weapons makes his little 4 year old self straighten right up.

However, once those toys are taken away, I'm faced with a barrage of questions about when the next day will be when he can have weapons.

"Mom," he said, looking at me with his big blue eyes, "tomorrow, can I have weapons again?"

"Yes, buddy" I answered, "tomorrow you will be able to have them back."

"Good! Then I'm gonna cut your leg off. And you'll have to hop like dis" (insert a 4 year old hopping on one foot) "and you'll never catch me again and take away my weapons!"

Well, that's one way to avoid punishment. Or not.

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Yesterday morning he had his prized weapons taken away, yet again. As he played in his room he sang the following song:

"I'm Aaron. Da supa-he-whoa boy! I can fly through da air and kill all da emenies. But I can't use da weapons because my Mom took dem all away!"

Good to know his consequences are sinking in a little.

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At the beginning of July we were temporarily living at my grandmother's condo while our house was being treated for an outbreak of fleas. It's pretty glamorous to say your house is flea infested, by the way.

Anyway, one night Luke and I had tucked all our little babes into bed. We'd stuck Ashlee in the bed in the master bedroom because she was having a harder time settling down.

The door to the bedroom creeped open and her little head squeezed through.

"Dad? Mom? I need to show you something."

Luke replied, less than thrilled with, "What."

"You have to come in here," she said, almost whispering.

"Is it a green light on the ceiling?" Luke asked.

I whipped my head around, looking at him nearly in shock.

Ashlee, equally shocked said, "Yes."

"That's a light on the smoke detector. Go to sleep."

"Oh," Ashlee said.

The door clicked shut and we both started giggling.

A few minutes later the door reopens and she stammers, "That's not funny!"

The door slammed behind her. Yeah, actually, it was.

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Olivia has beads in her hair. Something she's wanted for so very long but I've not been able to make happen.

Now, she enthusiastically runs up to me and says, "Momma! Wanna hear my beans?" as she frantically shakes her hair from side to side.

And all this time I thought it was a marble.

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Ella regressed a bit when Abigail was born and decided that poop was best made in her diaper, not in the potty.

The last two days, however, she's gone in the potty! Yay!

Yesterday I asked her if she had pooped a lot in the potty. "Was it a big poop?"I asked, wondering if she had really finished or just relieved the pressure until nap time and a diaper was secure on her bottom.

"Yep," she responded, her blonde curls bouncing around her as she flipped her head up and down, "a big poop. Daddy poops."

"Daddy poops?" I asked.

"Yep. Daddy do big poop. I big poop like Daddy!" She was real proud of herself.

I, on the other hand, while proud of the poop in the potty could have gone with out this information.

Y'all have a great weekend!

Das Not Funny! Friday: Ashlee's antics

Our sweet Ashlee girl, how she delights my heart. She brings laughter, joy, silliness and affection into our home. She's just a fun person to be around.

She can tear through a math workbook at lightening quick speeds. She reads above grade level and enjoys all aspects of learning. She's a sharp one, that girl. However, she doesn't always use her smarts in her favor. This girl can keep us laughing that's for sure!

Two weeks ago we had a duel birthday celebration for Ashlee and Lucas. The boys used a nearby gym and had an indoor "campout" complete with wrestling matches, ball games and, of course, Star Wars. The girls had a sleepover at our house complete with a full nail and hair salon and capped off by Barbie movies.

Because the best part of a birthday is singing "Happy Birthday" to yourself.

After the weekend full of birthday festivities, Elizabeth was having a moment of pouting because she didn't think she was getting her fair share of birthday attention. My Mom pointed out to Elizabeth that she doesn't have to share her birthday and that in a few months, she'll have her very own special day and party. My Mom turned to Ashlee and said,

"You see Ashlee has to share her birthday, don't you Ashlee?"

To which Ashlee replied, flabbergasted, "WITH WHO?!?"

Anyway, back to the night of the sleepover. We had a good time and finally, at midnight the girls decided it was time to settle down there was a mother-enforced mandate to settle down. Since the time she was an itty bitty baby Ashlee has slept with a little blue bear we so originally named, Bear Bear. To fall asleep, Ashlee sucks on her bear's ear. She never took a pacci but she can hardly fall asleep without Bear Bear.

About 12:15am Ashlee appeared in the doorway of my bedroom.

"Ash, what's wrong sis?" I asked, thinking maybe she was upset about not sleeping in her bed.

"Momma," she said, with a worried look on her face, "I'm shy. I don't want any of my customers to see me chewing on my Bear Bear."

Earlier this week we sent the kids off to do their chores. One of our rotating chores is for one of the older 3 to clean one of the bathrooms. It was Ashlee's turn for that chore. She comes bounding into the kitchen, with a roll of paper towels under her arm.

"Mom?" she asks, "Where's the Oxyclean?"

"The what?" I reply.

"The Oxyclean!" she says again, like I'm dumb to even ask for clarification.

"Honey, we don't have any Oxyclean but we have the spray you always use to clean the bathroom. It's right there," I say as I point to the solution under the sink.

"But Mom! I need Oxyclean. You know. It gets the tough stains out!"

With hair color at her sleepover party

Indeed our Ashlee girl is a laugh a minute, our resident clown. Even if the majority of the time it's completely unintentional.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Confessions of a 3rd grade homeschooler

We finished up Elizabeth's standardized torture test about half an hour ago. As soon as we closed her booklet we flung our arms around each other and squealed with delight that she is now "officially" a 3rd grader. While I was busy packing up materials to return to the scoring center, she bounced off to her room carrying my iPod, unbeknownst to me.

Below is the video she made. My heart swells with so much joy over this precious girl. She's full of personality, that's for sure. Too bad she's a sheltered, introverted, unsocialized homeschool kid. ;)

Das Not Funny! Friday: The Wrestling Match

Welcome to a LONG overdue edition of Das Not Funny! Friday.

Das Not Funny! Friday is where I share the funny things that our children have said and done. After all, if having 7 children ages 7 and younger isn't funny, I don't know what is!

Since it's been a sweet forever since I've posted a Das Not Funny! Friday, some of these will be from a while back, but they still make me chuckle.

First of all, a while back I read a post about Why Having Toddlers Is Like Being At a Frat Party. Read it and I think you'll agree.

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The first few weeks of Abigail's life our amazing friends rallied around us and set up meals to be delivered (Do you know about takethemameal.com? If not you should it's awesome. And no, I didn't get paid to say that.) Anyway, one of our sweet friends came by and brought us dinner, complete with a container of chocolate chip cookies. Lucas saw them, raised both hands in the air and said,

"Thou shall NOT covet!"

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The awesome thing about having a new baby when you have older children is their desire to help. Elizabeth is probably the most consistent helper, offering to change diapers, grab a pacifier or help a younger sibling while I'm feeding. But every.single.time Abigail cries I have a barrage of helpers all ready to tell me the thing I usually already know.

"Mom! Abigail is crying!"

"Mom! Abigail is screaming!"

"Mom! You made Abigail cry!"

It's sorta funny when she's in the next room and borders on annoying and hysterical when I'm holding her, while she's fussing.

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Luke and I both have an iPod touch. We're both holding off on smart phones for as long as humanly possible. At any rate, our older children take a special delight in taking videos and pictures with our iPods. The results vary anywhere from humiliating (for Luke and I) to side splitting.






This is a small glimpse into our evenings at home. Except that the it's 4 less kids for this match because Lucas, Aaron, Olivia & Ella were already in bed.

Here's what I love:

1) Elizabeth's accent. What the heck? We don tawlk lie-yuk thay-ut here in tha Sow-uth.

2) Elizabeth promoting her new "Toe Nail Shop" which is located in her bedroom. Only $20 folks! It's awesome that all of her advertising is on the walls (hallways, kitchen, living room) of our house but she "doesn't charge family." Next time a stranger shows up at our house looking for a mani-pedi, I'll know where to direct them. Or not.

3) No wonder Luke is having to go through extensive treatment with a chiropractor.

4) "Here's where I come in!" Hysterical.

5) Ashlee's last effort at crazy just before the camera clicks off.

And that's just with 2 kids y'all. Just two. Imagine 4 more crazies in the mix.

Happy Friday y'all.

Das Not Funny! Friday: The king is in danger

Oh, it's been way too long since I did a Das Not Funny! Friday post. Way, way too long.

Not sure what Das Not Funny! Friday is? Well, nearly 3 years ago I wrote this little post talking about all the funny things our kids had said over the last several days. At the time, Elizabeth was 4.5 years old and Lucas and Ashlee were a few months shy of 3. Aaron was nearly 12 months old and Olivia was bouncing 5 month old. Our lives were, um, busy to put it mildly.

Our lives were (and still are) also hysterical. Kids kind of have that effect on life, don't they? They make things funny, often funnier than they intend. It never failed that one of our kids would say something funny and Luke and I would try our very best to stifle our laughter.

Typically, Ashlee would hear us laughing, give us the look in the photo above and say, "Mom! Das not funny!"

Which, in turn, made us giggle even harder. I have always heard my Mom, my grandmothers and other moms say that they really wished they'd written down the funny things their kids said when they were little. Well, Das Not Funny! Friday is my attempt to do just that.

Now, our kids are older - but equally as funny. Elizabeth is now 7.5 years, Lucas and Ashlee will be 6 in May, Aaron will be 4 in June, Olivia is 3.5 years and Ella is a feisty 22 month old.

Our lives are still busy and I really want to remember the hilarity of our young years with all these young kids. So here's goes nothing....

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Aaron said to me the other day, "Mom, you're belldy is realwe realwe big!"

Me: "Yep. It sure is buddy."

Aaron: "Jep. But it not popped yet!" Then he laughed like he'd made the biggest and best joke ever.

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Ella has developed a new, slightly inappropriate and yet totally hilarious habit. When I'm holding her, she pulls the neck of my shirt open as far as it will stretch, peers down the front of my shirt and says in her loudest 22 month old voice,

"Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww."

Awesome. Self esteem boost #1.

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Lucas enjoys telling me that I'm getting huge. I don't think he intends on it being offensive because I really don't think he understands that it's offensive to say that someone is "a big fat pregnant lady."

After several times of him lovingly patting my stomach and commenting that I "sure was getting fat" I though that maybe it was time to have a conversation with him.

Me: "Buddy, I know you aren't trying to be ugly, but most of the time it's not really nice to tell someone you think they are fat. It might be true but it still isn't an appropriate thing to say because it might be something that hurt their feelings."

Lucas: "Oh. Okay. But your stomach is getting fat. But I know it's because you're fat and pregnant."

Me (stifling a chuckle): "Yes. That's true. But sometimes people can get their feelings hurt because they are upset about being overweight and it's not nice to point it out to them."

Lucas: "Okay mom. I won't call anyone else fat. Even though I don't know ANYONE else as fat as you."

Good. Glad we cleared that up. Except, not really.

Self Esteem boost #2.

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I've been making a conscious effort to spend real, quality time with our kids before the baby comes. I know that when baby girl gets here, she will command most of my time and my 1-on-1 time with the others will be limited. With that in mind, I've been taking the kids off on Mommy-dates, which includes them choosing where we eat and where we go. I'm simply their chauffeur, bouncer and bank account.

This week, Lucas and I went out. He decided he wanted Japanese food so we sat, on the same side of the little booth and enjoyed our rice, while conversations of guns, army men and ammunition graced our table.

Suddenly, he asked me, "Mom, how do you say, 'I like red' in Spanish?"

Me: "Um. I think it's 'Me gusta rojo.'"

Lucas: "Me gusta rojo! How do you say 'The King is in danger'?"

It's probably a good thing he was beside me because I'm pretty sure I spit rice clear across the table.

Y'all have a great weekend!

Das Not Funny! Friday: We take our freak show on the road

Remember about 2 months ago when Luke went to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa and the kids and I went out of town?

Yeah.

Well, during that trip the kids said so many funny things. My friend Grace was my sanity (read: traveling companion for over 1,400+ miles) wrote them down and emailed them to me, you know, the week after we got back. And since I'm nothing if not efficient, I was too lazy to COPY AND PASTE them from her email into a blog.

So, without any further ado (or more weeks of procrastination) I present to you, copy and pasted hilarity.

Try to contain your excitement. And remember, these are from Grace's point of view. Added hilarity, if you ask me. I can vouch for her accuracy and authenticity.

1. While we were on the way to Tennessee, all the kids fell asleep in the car. Lucas woke up for the last TWO HOURS of the drive, and decided he needed to talk until we arrived. But usually, he only had 2 things to ask. Every. Time. The song changed- "Mom, is this song about Jesus?" and everytime the car sped up/ slowed down/ switched lanes/ got passed/ passed someone- "Mom, are you speeding?"

2. Lucas again, talking to Grandpa Beaver: "Grandpa Beaver, what's your favorite kind of car?"
Grandpa replied, "Well, I don't know.. I guess I really like.."
"MINE IS A MOVING VAN." Goodtoknow Lucas.

3. While at Monkey Joe's burning off some energy, Olivia felt like she needed to have an in depth conversation with me. She just kept jabbering and pointing, and I assumed she was talking about the bounce house. I looked around a lady who was standing between us and saud bounce house and said, "Hey Liv, how about you go show me how fast you can go down that bouncy slide?" She giggled and turned around and skipped/ran/danced in the direction of the bounce house. On her way past the stranger standing between us and said bouncey slide, Olivia screamed, "BOOTY, BOOTY!" and spanked the woman. The woman was, understandably, horrified. I promptly pointed her in the direction of the child's mother. You're welcome.

4. One morning at breakfast, Aaron asked me for a napkin that were in the middle of the table, just out of his reach. When I stood up to hand one to him, he exclaimed, "WOW Grace! You are very tall!" Yes, Aaron. Yes I am. [You should probably know that Grace is the shortest person I've ever met. You know, besides my children.]

5. While in the car, we rotated through the kids and let them pick the songs we listened to. Aaron ALWAYS wants to listen to "You are my Joy." Even when it's not his turn. Even if we just listened to it for the 80 billionth time. Even if there world ended right now and Jesus came back, and pretty sure Aaron would request "You are my Joy" as the rapture's soundtrack. After asking to hear it AGAIN.. You replied, "Nope. I don't like that song!" Aaron said, "But why? It's my pay-brit! You just gotta try it, mom!"

6. One afternoon, while getting Aaron and Olivia ready for nap, I was running from one bathroom to the other, waiting for both of them to poop before they went to lay down. When I came into the bathroom Aaron was in, he let one rip- big time. I said, "Whoa, Buddy! Are you all done?" He replied, "Nope. That was just my snake sound, Grace! Here it comes again...." I left him alone with his snake sound, and went to check on Liv. I asked her if she was all done, and she held up her toy princess, looked under its dress and exclaimed, "Princess dress not pooped in her diaper! Yayyyy!" Good job, plastic princess. I guess this means you're a big girl now!

Das Not Funny! Friday: It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a turd - in the bathtub

It's happened with every single one of our six kids. Still, every time it happens it grosses me out to the point of gagging, pregnant or not.

Ella is at the stage now that no matter what she eats she manages to smear it all over her body such that no washcloth can dare make a dent in her sloppiness. Typically after breakfast and lunch she requires a quick bath to scrub off all the sticky.

Earlier this week, I plopped her in the tub, added some bubbles and went back into the kitchen to quickly wipe off her booster seat and the table where she had fingerpainted with her Cocoa Puffs.

Approximately 1.5 minutes later I walk back into the bathroom and begin scooping full cups of soapy bubbly water over her head so that we could wash and continue with our day. About 3 scoops in, the bubbles part like the Red Sea and there is a turd. Chillin' on the bottom of the tub like Pharaoh's army. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Not only have I submerged my own hands into the poop water but I've also washed my child in bubbly poop water.

Not good.

I take my naked 18 month old out of the tub, stand her on the rug and drain the tub. I clear the debris out of the tub then realize I need some cleanser to clean out any hidden debris. I decide that I'd rather not have my naked, soaking wet, poop-washed baby sprinting through the house, so like a good mother, I close the bathroom door behind me and sprint down the hall to the kitchen to grab some Castile soap.

Soap and brush in hand, I dash back to the bathroom. My hand rests upon the door knob yet I am unable to turn it.

My sweet, darling, naked, slimy, poop-water covered 18 month old has LOCKED THE BATHROOM DOOR. I should have known. Pushing buttons is her new hobby.

"Ella!" I yell, "Ella! Unlock the door!" I jiggle the doorknob.

From the other side of the door I hear, "Eeeewa! Eeeewa! Ubba daaa!" as her pudgy little fingers rattle the doorknob, mocking my every move.

I knock on the door. "Ella," I say more softly, "open the door Sissy."

To my surprise, I hear her say, more softly, "Eeeeewa, ubbbba daaa ssssssss," as she gently knocks back to me the same rhythm I just tapped out to her.

This copycat knocking and jiggling of door handles continues for the next 3 or so minutes until I realize that my darling, naked, poopy-water covered child, who knows how to open doors and has done so many, many, many times against my better wishes, is NOT opening the door any time soon.

And why should she? I mean, what more fun is it than a game of copy cat with an hysterical Mommy?

I grab my car keys, praying our house key somehow fits the lock of the bathroom. It doesn't but it does manage to turn the knob just enough that I hear the click of the lock popping out the other side of the door.

I push the door open and find my slimy, naked, smiling babe standing beside the tub, bottle of bubbles in her hand, looking at me wondering why in the heck it's taken me so long to get back in the bathroom.

Y'all, it's never a dull moment around here. Ever.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Work it out

I finally have managed to remember some of the funny things the kids have said lately. What better reason to have a Das Not Funny! Friday? I can think of not one more reason. Plus, blogging is fun.

Lately, Ashlee has begun old-school preacher length bedtime prayers. She is uber careful to include each person in our family. Including Brinkley. The dog.

"And dear God, please help Momma not frow up so much. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Daddy not to get frusterwated. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Aaron not to cry all the time. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Woocus not to hit and push. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Ewizabets not to be so bossy. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Wivia not to pee in her pants because it frustwates Mommy. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Ella Goat not to bite people because biting hurts their feelings and their skin. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Bwinkley not to bark so much because she's loud. And help her to work it out.

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Ella has starting talking. It's so cute. Except when her answer is "Nuh." (No.)

I asked her if she wanted to contribute to today's post.

I bet you can guess her answer.

"Nuh."

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Aaron has to be the fastest pooper ever. Not that I'm complaining since he does that in the potty exclusively now.

Yesterday while we waited on the older 3 to finish up piano lessons, we went outside to play on the playground. Naturally, as soon as we get down there, with no point of re-entry to the building he has to poop. We make a long trek around the side of the church (up a hill) toward the unlocked door.

Please keep in mind I am carrying Ella, who weighs just as much as her older brother and sister, at a whopping 27lbs, while Olivia insists on hopping/jumping/flinging her body forward no matter where we are going. And with no specific speed.

Aaron is walking on his tippy toes, butt cheeks squinched, hand firmly grasping his backside.

We hustle, hustle, hustle (I use that word loosely) up the hill, inside the building and back down the stairs so Aaron can use the toilet.

He sits and approximately 20 seconds later this conversations ensues.

"Mom. I done. Come wipe me."

"Buddy, push some more out okay? Get it all out."

"But I all done. I already gone."

"Just a little more, okay? Make sure it's all out."

(Fake grunt) "It all out now. Noooooooooo more poop is in my butt. Come see!"

Uh. No thanks. I trust you. I'm sure you worked it out just fine, all on your own.

Y'all have a great weekend.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Catfish bait

Oh mercy y'all, it's been way too long since I've written a Das Not Funny! Friday post. So many funny things happen around here every day. I laugh and try my best to remember them for longer than 37 seconds. Rarely do I ever remember them long enough to make it to the computer to get them down.

Paper is a lost cause around here. Do you know how many scraps of paper there are in my house thanks to my "crafty" kids? I think they're starting their own confetti making business.

Anyway, over the 4th of July we spent copious amounts of time at the lake. My Mom relayed to me the following interaction between she and Lucas.

Typically, as soon as the oldest 4 kids have on their life jackets they commence jumping into the lake from the dock, splashing wildly then swimming to the steps and repeating until they're water logged. One afternoon, the older 3 were sunscreened and lifejacketed up and the girls were already splashing and swimming. Lucas paced back and forth, up and down, side to side on the dock.



"Lucas," my Mom urged, "go ahead and get in."

"Meme?" Lucas responded, "Will you check my butt? Sometimes, you know, I don't wipe so good."

Lucas begins tugging at his swimming trunks while standing on the pier, stooping over for my Mom to get a good look.

"Lucas," she says, "let's go inside and I'll check you, okay? But not out here."

They walk inside and as soon as they enter the house, Lucas begins tugging at his swimming trunks again, struggling with the strap of his life jacket that is still securely snapped between his legs.

"Come on, Buddy, let's go to the bathroom." my Mom says, wondering why Lucas is so suddenly concerned with the cleanliness of his backside.

The make it into the bathroom, unbuckle Lucas' life jacket and he whips his shorts down, stooping over for my Mom to inspect his bottom.

"All clean Buddy!" my Mom says.

"Oh good," Lucas sighs, "because catfish, they like really stinky stuff. And sometimes, I don't wipe so good and my butt gets really stinky."

Das Not Funny! Friday: Super Hero Squat

Welcome to a video version of Das Not Funny! Friday.

Y'all, superheroes have been a big deal in our house for a long time now. Remember that time Lucas was being a superhero and punched Luke in the junk? That still makes me laugh out loud, no matter how much my hormones are out of control.

Anyway, Lucas waxes and wains between wanting to be a superhero and wanting to be a cowboy, whose cap gun isn't nearly as lethal as his death stare.

The stick horse makes the picture.

Most of the time, the big girls will play "Super Hero Squat" with him. Last week, the older 3 watched something on TV where the superheroes wore masks. It took our superheroing to a whole new level.

I spent a ridiculously small amount of time fashioning the worst masks on the planet. I secured them to my children's heads using elastic headbands. I tied towels and various other fabrics around their necks with hair ties. Clearly I was trying to break every rule of Strangulation Prevention 101.

But my kids were happy.

When Luke called on his way home from work, I asked if he wanted to tell the kids about the new baby that night at dinner. We decided we would, but we wanted it to be in a creative and fun way.

Don't you dare judge us for our lack of creativity. I had about 20 minutes and 12 hands all over me while I brainstormed my heart out. This is what we came up with.... (You may have to view it full screen because I'm a genius and recorded it on our iTouch, not even thinking about it being so stinkin' tall.)

Who's Gonna Hero Up? from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Things I love about this video.

1) The look on Luke's face as I pan the camera around to him, whilst asking him if we have another superhero. In his Type A mind he's thinking, "Woman! We did NOT rehearse this. WHAT SHOULD I DO!?!"

2) At 0:49 seconds in and Aaron and Olivia begin their tirade of questions and attention gainers."Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!!!"

 I also love that our other children are completely unfazed by their chaos and continue on with their life, like it's normal.

3) "MOMMA'S BURFDAY!" Eh, so not everyone hits the mark the first time. Maybe she should change her name to something besides Super Speed.

4) At 1:40 Lucas punches Elizabeth for saying we need another boy. Obviously he's not willing to share his Super Hero status.

5) "Before your Anniversary?" That would be seemingly a good question, except I'm willing to bet she has no idea when our Anniversary is.

6) The yelling to say, "STOP YELLING PLEASE!"

7) The random bowling pin at 2:14 and how I didn't miss a beat. (It was courtesy of Aaron, by the way.)

8) The Ella Goat eating the baby's foot. And her subsequent response.

9) "Do, do, do doot, doot! I'm gonna have........................................" Insert the longest pause ever while she counts her siblings. Almost like she's never counted them all before.

10) "Can I be a big brother again?" Followed by, "Wooooohooooooo! BAM! BAM! BAY-BAY!"

and finally, perhaps the thing that makes me laugh most,

11) "CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE."

If you ever wondered what a typical evening is like for us, this is it. This is real life y'all. REAL LIFE. Perfectly displaying each of their personalities.

Happy Friday!

Das Not Funny!Friday: Snakes on my birthday

Welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday, just as I promised.

Unsure about what Das Not Funny! Friday is?

Just over two years ago we had five small children. The twins were three, Elizabeth was months shy of her 5th birthday. Aaron was nearly a year old and Olivia was still in an infant carrier.

Life was busy.

Life was funny.

Oh how I treasure the funny quips and behaviors of my children! How I wish I could bottle them up, store them away on a shelf and in 20 years pull them out and experience them again! But that's not possible. So it was because of that desire that Das Not Funny! Friday was born.

You see, back then (and even now) my sweet Ashlee enjoyed being the life and laugh of the party. However, every now and then she'd say one of those funny kid things and we'd all giggle.

Immediately she'd frown (as in the picture above) and say to us sternly, "Das not funny!"

Oh my sweet drama queen, yes it is.

Das Not Funny! Friday is the best way for me to keep bottled up all the hilariousness of my (many) young children. During the week I try to write down the things they say and post them on Friday. It's simple. You can do the same, even if you don't have kids! Blog about your husband, your nieces and nephews, that funny kid across the street. Heck, even your dog!

The only thing I ask is that if you participate you put a link in your post linking back here, to my blog. In return, you can enter your info into the Linking Widget and everyone can visit your post as well. If you really want to be fancy, you can get the code for the button over in the sidebar, but that's not required.

So without further rambling, here are my funnies for this week:

Aaron has finally resolved his issues with his poop and the potty. He's decided it's a good thing to not walk around with his own poo firmly smashed against his hiney. (I was beginning to wonder if he'd ever make such a choice so - PRAISE GOD!) Anyway, when he's on the potty he spends all his time with his head between his knees seeing what's going on.

He's thrilled when he sees the works of his...uh...self.

"Snakes! Mommy! I made a snake!" he yells from the bathroom.

Every.single.time. "Mommy! Nudder snakes! I made nudder snakes!"

"Yay buddy! Make more snakes, okay?"

"Otay Mommy! I make nudder snake!"

It's the picture of bathroom preciousness, really. (And Cathy H, did you really think I'd start this thing backup and NOT talk about poop the first thing?)

Anyway, Luke had Aaron in the bathroom a few weeks ago and upon commencement of poo Aaron, naturally, began all his "SNAKES!" talk. Half hearted, I'm sure, Luke shared in his enthusiasm of all things brown and reptilian. Finally, he said Aaron strained hard, looked down sees a blob and says,

"Dad! SEA TURTLE!"

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Monday was the twins' birthday. When Elizabeth excitedly got out of bed she began asking Lucas and Ashlee (immediately) "Are you SO EXCITED you're 5? I know you are. 5 is a big age. I remember when I was 5 years old...." (Insert long story that's only 1/16 true but has everything to do with Elizabeth being 5.)

Ashlee is getting super perturbed at her sister. Not because Elizabeth won't stop talking and breathe, but more because she is insistent that it's NOT her birthday yet.

An argument breaks out. Elizabeth demands that Ashlee is 5 while Ashlee forcefully resists the notion that it would be a day different from any other. The argument goes on for at least 10 minutes as I hear words being exchanged while I make breakfast downstairs.

Finally.....STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Ashlee angrily descends the stairs and rounds the corner into the kitchen.

"Mom! Witabetz keeps saying it's my burfday and IT'S NOT MY BURFDAY YET!"

I chuckled, "Actually, Ash, it is your birthday today. Happy Birthday Sweetie!"

Her eyes get wide, her mouth smiles broad, she spins on her heel and heads out of the room yelling,

"HEY GUYS! GUESS WHAT?! TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!"

It really sent her for a loop when I explained to her that even though they have the same birthday, technically, Lucas is older.

Happy Friday y'all!

We'll be forehead deep in wedding festivities this weekend. If you think about it, will you pray for our sweet babysitter/nanny/my friend Amanda and her almost-husband Nick?

Thanks!

Das Not Funny!Friday: Returns!

Remember that time I used to blog about all the funny things my kids would do and say? No?

Well, there was a time when I used to blog about all the funny stuff my kids would do and say. And per the request of a few different people, I'm bringing Das Not Funny! Friday back.

I hope.

If I can remember to write them down this week. So here's your heads up if you'd like to join me.

Below I am reposting a Das Not Funny! Friday from September 18, 2009. I'm looking forward to reading the funny stuff your kids/husbands/nieces & nephews/the-kids-you-babysit say on Friday so write them down and I'll see you on Friday!

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Friday again! Who's up for another round of Das Not Funny! Friday? I am!

What is Das Not Funny! Friday, you ask? Welllllll, I've always said that I want to write down the funny things that my kids are forever saying. However, I stink at journaling. Therefore, I began posting them here on Fridays. They're called Das Not Funny! because when our daughter Ashlee does something funny and we laugh at her, she usually frowns (like pictured above) and says, "Das not funny Mommy!"

She's a TAD dramatic and doesn't realize that this comment only makes her antics even funnier. I hope you'll join me and play along for this week's Das Not Funny! Friday.

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Monday did not go as scheduled this week. The physical therapist was here for Baby Girl so I sent the twins to the basement to play (Elizabeth was over at Nana's house that morning). After checking on them several times, I realized that they were quiet. Too quiet. The following is the conversation that transpired next...

"Ashlee! Lucas! What are you guys doing?"

Giggling from the basement echos up the stairs.

"GUYS! What is going on down there?"

"We's just playin' Momma," Ashlee calls.

"Um. Playing what exactly?"

"We's eatin' dees fangs."

"You're eating what?!?"

"Dose fangs in Woocas mouth."

"What things? Bring them here now!"

They both creep up the stairs.

"Lucas, what are you eating?"

"Gurwillda food," he states, logically.

"Show me please, NOW."

He opens his hand to reveal several brass shelf hangers from a shelving unit.

"Did you have those in your mouth Lucas?"

"Yep."

"Did you eat any?"

"Yep."

We spent the next 4.5 hours at various doctors offices getting x-rays and verifying that a brass shelf hanger apparently denigrates upon ingestion. Either that, or he really didn't swallow it at all.

I'll let you decide which is true.

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Last night Lucas was helping me make dinner. We open our pantry and both discover a horrible smell (thanks to some rotten potatoes). Lucas turns to me and says,

"Shoooo weeee Mommy. You poot stinks."

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Ashlee to me, from the bathroom: "Mooooooom. I'm done. Come wipe me."

I enter the bathroom and begin her requested task.

She adds, "Wipe me good Mom. But cwose your eyes. Don't wook at my poop.."

Somehow, those two things cannot be accomplished at the same time little girl.

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If you'd like to play along write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post then enter all your info into MckLinky.

Y'all have a great weekend, free from poop or brass shelf hangers or either of those two combined.

Das Not Funny! Friday: I really want to put a mannequin on our toilet

Wahoooo! It's Friday! Welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday. What is Das Not Funny! Friday? CLICK HERE if you've never participated or read a Das Not Funny! Friday post and want to know why I write them. And if you have your own funnies to post, simply leave a link to your post in the comments.

On with the show....

Ashlee is a flower girl in our sweet Babysitter/Nanny's wedding. On Monday, Babysitter/Nanny Amanda and I took her to the Bridal shop to try on some flower girl dresses. Turns out, just because you have an appointment doesn't mean you'll actually get to try on dresses anywhere near that time frame.

Which would have been excellent to know before we took my hyped up on frill and lace and - OH WOOK MOM A DRESS! ANOTHER DRESS! A PREEEEETY DRESS! - 4 year old into the dress shop for a 40 minute wait. Have I ever told you that Ashlee loves dresses? No? Imagine a cat locked in a closet lined with catnip. Multipy that by 40 and that was Ashlee with all the PRETTY DRESSES! I LOOOOOOOVE THIS ONE MOM!

Anyway. We killed some time by letting her try on some fun things, like this birdcage veil. Which confused her beyond all reason because it totally didn't have a bird in it.

Good thing she's not sassy.

Finally, Amanda and I decided that maybe the 4 associates who were standing around looking at paper needed some encouragement in the form of our dominating presence. Also known as, "we moved closer to the front desk and lingered."

You know what else is near the front desk?

Mannequins. Mannequins displaying top of the line bridesmaids dresses and bridal gowns. Do you know what my sheltered 4 year old has never encountered up close before?

Mannequins.

She was so perplexed.

So of course I did what any respectable mother would do in that situation. I chuckled at her under my breath and took pictures of her with my cell phone.


The next one is my absolute favorite.

Oh mercy. I'm afraid she's scarred for life. Oh who am I kidding? If she's not already traumatized by the goings on in our house and her twin brother she'll probably never be.

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Speaking of poop, Luke and I don't. At least not in front of each other. I have a firm belief that you should never watch the person you are intimate with wipe.

I'm pretty sure that's in the Bible somewhere. 1st Doodieronomy or something. (Ba doom ching. Sorry, I couldn't resist.)

Annnnyway, on Sunday morning we are all scampering around getting ready for church. Well, most of us. Luke is not really scampering as much as he was, ahem, sitting. On the throne. And as much as I am opposed to seeing my husband on the toilet (or allowing him to see me taking a doodieronomy) all bets are off for everyone else that breathes air in our house.

I can't tell you the number of motherhood-oriented tasks I've performed, in the bathroom, while, well...you know. Needless to say, our kids are allowed in the bathroom during just about anything.

While I'm downstairs in the kitchen, Luke is upstairs sitting in his royal position, reigning as King of the Toothbrushing. (Hey, every person on a throne is king of something, right?)

I overhear him telling Ashlee to please shut the door.

"Why Dad?" she asks.

"Because, Mommy doesn't want to see Daddy on the potty. Now, shut the door," Luke persists.

The conversation becomes muffled behind the bathroom door and I quickly forget about the whole thing. Until later that morning while we are sitting in church. All three of the big kids attend Big Church with us. Mostly they just color or draw or play with a quiet toy but often they catch 1 thing from the sermon and we like to talk about it. This past Sunday, Ashlee was laying across her chair with her head in my lap, eating some Cheese Its.

If you know my Ashlee you know that she has 3 volumes.

1) Loud.

2) Still loud.

3) Off.

Ashlee turns her face up to mine, while I'm messily scribbling sermon notes, and in a volume that only a deaf person could ignore says,

"Mom? How come you and Daddy can't see each other's poops?"

Poor girl. Between the mannequins and the privacy of poop, she's had a rough time cognitively. What I'd really love to do is bring home a mannequin and put it on our toilet. Think that would push her over the edge too much?

Y'all have an Royally Blessed weekend!

Das Not Funny! Friday: five-eighths of Mt. Kilimanjaro's magic

Happy Friday! Here are the last few weeks worth of Das Not Funny! Friday funnies. If you have funnies you'd like to post, simply leave a link to your post in the comments section.

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Elizabeth, for some reason, has be enthralled lately with magic tricks. Unfortunately, she doesn't quite grasp the magical aspect of each trick. For example, earlier last week she was putting a small doll in a cup and saying,

"For my next trick I'll pull a DOLL out of this cup."

(Insert dramatic pause)

"Taaa Duuuuh!"

(Withdraw the doll from the cup.)

Each trick was about the same, with varying objects magically appearing from a hat or cup or bowl. Each time she'd finish a trick, she'd announce the next by saying, "For my next trick...."

I know you're all dazzled by her magic, just as I was. After I'd asked her several times to put her magic away and begin her math, I began to get frustrated and my voice became a little more firm.

"Elizabeth, please go do your math NOW!"

To which she replied, "For my next trick...I will obey my Mother."

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While we were in New York, the kids learned a lot about the continent of Africa including it's countries, some of their cultural practices and even some notable landmarks. One morning at breakfast, the kids were debating exactly where Mount Kilimanjaro was located, they asked for my wisdom in figuring it's exact coordinates.

"I'm not sure," I replied, "I think it's either in Kenya or Tanzania. Not too far from Kenya I think because Chris and Lindy have been there, I'm pretty sure."

Elizabeth interjected with, "Yeah. I think it's between Tanzania and....."

"NEW YORK!" Lucas interrupted.

Good thinking Buddy. You're probably right.

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I can't remember if I've posted this one or not, and I'm too lazy to go back and look so if I have, sorry. It's funny enough to repeat anyway.

Ashlee is one of the three people in the house whose bottom I am NOT responsible for wiping. Elizabeth is the 2nd. I'll leave it up to your imagination who the 3rd is. If you can't figure it out...well, just think harder.

Basically out of 8 butts in our house, I wipe 5 of them daily. Any time I can let go of butt wiping responsibilities it's a good day in our house. One afternoon, Ashlee was doing some business on the potty. She yells from the bathroom, "Mom! I'm done! Come wipe me!"

Knowing she's perfectly capable of doing so, unlike her twin brother, I yell back, "Wipe yourself Ash. You're a big girl."

Exasperated she sighs, "Mooooom. I've just been wiping my whole entire wife. I'm just so tired of wipin' booties."

Really? Because let me give you some insight into my life little girl, okay? 5/8 of the butts. FIVE-EIGHTHS.

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Aaron's verbal skills have taken off really. Luke and I both agreed that he went to bed one night talking in toddler jibberish and woke up the next morning speaking in full sentences.

I'm hardly kidding. He's a real talker now and he talks NON-STOP. "Wook Mom bus! Bus Mom! I see da bus Mom! Wook! Twee! I see da twee! Twee Mom! Wook! Big twuck Mom! Wed Twuck!" Say that to yourself as fast as you can without taking a breath for the next 20 minutes and you'll get a snippet of my day with my youngest son.

That dude talks. A lot.

Especially after he's been quiet for an extended period of time, like after a nap. He talks from the moment I walk in the bedroom door, the entire time I'm walking him to the changing table, all during his diaper change, while I put on a new diaper, while I'm redressing him and as I send him off to play.

One day he was giving me an even more detailed play-by-play of his diaper change, "Wook Mom. Poop. Raren (Aaron) poop Mom. Wook! Wipessss Mom. Mom wipe Raren's booty. Whhhheeeeeeww wwwweeeee Mom! Raren stink!"

Yeah. No kidding dude. Remember that time you pooped in the potty? Yeah, me neither.

Y'all have a supremely blessed weekend!

Das Not Funny! Friday: Bump it up

Okay, so I've barely had time to check my email this week, much less blog. So I thought I'd reach way back into the blog files, pull up a funny post, and "bump" one up. This is the 1st ever Das Not Funny! Friday post I published. It was originally written on March 20, 2009 but the reason I chose this post to bump is because this is basically still my life only the names have been changed to protect the innocent the kids now at these ages. Ashlee is the bike rider, Aaron is the birthday boy and Daddy slapper and Olivia is certainly the spider monkey, albeit a completely uncoordinated spider monkey.

If you'd like to read more of my Das Not Funny! Friday posts you can either click here or on the Das Not Funny! Friday button on my sidebar. Happy Weekend, y'all!

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Original Post:

Welcome to the inaugural post of Das Not Funny! Friday. I'm always sayin' I want to write down all the funny things my kids say (and do) during the week, aren't you? Well, now is our chance!

Why Das Not Funny!? Because, our kids are forever making us laugh, usually unintentionally. As we attempt to stifle our laughter, Ashlee (our Drama Queen) almost always looks at us, frowns and says Das not funny!

Oh my darling, bless your heart...it is so funny.

Won't you tell me the all the funny things you've heard or seen lately. It doesn't have to be just about your children (because not all of you have kids...or maybe your kids just aren't funny;-)).

You can check out the "official" rules by going to this post. But seriously, it's just not that complicated people. Simply write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post, then link it back here to my blog. You can either leave a comment in the comment section or type your info into Mr. Linky.

Of course, if you don't have a blog and you'd like to share your funnies, feel free to do so in the comment section.

Here we go! Happy Friday!

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On Wednesday night we were getting the big kids ready for bed when Lucas, out of nowhere, reached over and slapped Luke right across the face! Trying to prove a point, Luke slapped him back.

This went on for about 2 minutes. Finally, Lucas busted out into hysterical laughter and Luke's face began hurting. His point remains unproven.

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Apparently physical assault on my husband's head is becoming a favorite in our house. Why, just last night Luke was wrestling in the floor with all the kids and Elizabeth came at him like a spider monkey, punching him square in the jaw.

I'm enrolling them all in jujitsu next week. I'm thinking that will help, don't you?

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Yesterday, it was a beautiful day so we spent all day outside. I pulled Elizabeth's bike out of the storage shed, from behind the Christmas tree, where it had safely stored since last fall. She strapped up her helmet while I pushed her bike up the small hill in our backyard and onto the driveway.

We reviewed all biking procedures including how to pedal, turn and stop. Then, she was on her own. She began coasting down the slight slope of the driveway and she was so proud of herself.

Then, she began to pick up speed. In no time she was really flying, going full speed down the grassy "mountain" in our backyard. Her casual yells for help turn into death curling screams.

She's not stopping.

I throw off my flip flops and sprint after her (I use the term "sprint" loosely people), hoping to break her fall, or at least cushion it. I get to her just as she begins to tip, I grab her and think I'm in the clear, but her foot gets caught and we both fall and skid to a stop.

Naturally, she's wailing. I pick her up, brush the grass off both our knees and elbows and we begin the ascent up the hill. Elizabeth's still wailing, completely pitiful. However, she agrees to get back on the bike.

We strap back on her helmet and perch her back on the bicycle seat. I smile at her and say,

"I'm proud of you Elizabeth."

As serious as she can be, she looks up at me with big tears in her eyes and says, "But why? I fell down, remember?"

Yes, sweetie, I remember rolling through dog poop all in the name of motherhood.

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As I held Lucas this week before bedtime, I told him how he was about to be a big big boy and turn 3 years old soon. I asked him what kind of birthday party he wanted to have. With a big smirk on his face he looks at me and says,

"A princess party!"

Tonight, Luke is picking up the RAMBO series on his way home and it will be Lucas' night for special time.

Das Not Funny! Friday: It is was my birthday

Today is my birthday. Well, technically I'm writing this on Saturday but you know what, I've never really given a crap about technicalities.

In fact, I'm going to say that technically, I'm still in my late twenties. Except for a pesky few years.

Technically.

Anyway, it's been a week full of busyness around here (thus the lack of posting all week) but it's been a good busy. If you like lots of diapers and kids and a general lack of organization.

So, today (er...yesterday technically) is/was my birthday.

Woop.

Unfortunately, I think I got a mild case of food poisoning from my birthday dinner out on Thursday night. Either that or Memaw forgot to take her geritol and the spinach/pine nut/caper/peppered pizza (gravy it was GOOD) made me gassy and my stomach queasy all day long.

See? I am a Memaw. There I go talking about my bowel habits. Mercy. If I excuse myself to the kitchen to "clean up" so that I can secretly pass gas then I'll change my name to Gertrude and call it a day.

Mercy.

Anyway, earlier today after I finally, FINALLY, got Ella to sleep and convinced her that she's only 6.5 months old and despite her own "I'm going to stay awake all day like I'm 6 years instead of 6 months" thinking she still needs to take a nap, preferably two a day, I laid down myself just in time for Lucas and Ashlee to get up.

Gotta love that timing. Normally those 2 don't take naps but seeing as how they both woke up earlier that normal and they were both beginning to have meltdowns over who's Chick-fil-a cow was whose (even though we have 6 that are IDENTICAL) I figured naps were in order today.

And I wasn't feeling well. Did I mention the stomach churning and the gas? (Hello, may name is Gertrude.)

I'm getting somewhere, I promise.

So seeing as how I felt like not moving so the rolling in my stomach would somehow subside, I did what any good Mother would do and I put the oldest 3 in front of the TV with a bin (yes a BIN) of Goldfish and went to sleep.

Except.

OHMYWORDSTOPWIGGLING.

WORM IN HOT ASHES.

How can you make the whole bed shake and you are sitting on the floor? So finally, I sit up (mind you my hair has mostly worked it's way out of a ponytail, I'm flushed and GASSY) and I say,

"Please guys. Just sit and watch TV and eat your snack! Mommy doesn't feel well."

To which Elizabeth responds with,

"Are you pregnant?"

Oh mercy. That kid.

(And no. I'm not.)

Das Not Funny! Friday: And another one wipes the butt

I know it's been a while but nothing kicks off the weekend like a laugh, huh? So welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday. Not sure what Das Not Funny! Friday is all about? Well click here to find out. I've made a few changes since that first post, mainly just eliminating the Linky. So, if you'd like to write you own post just leave the link to your blog in the comments section so we all can laugh at you with you.

I should have tons and tons since it's been a sweet forever since I've blogged about our funnies but I've been horrible at writing them down so here is the one I remember (only because I texted it to myself).

Last weekend we went to visit our friend Kevin at his college. As Kevin gave us a quick tour of his campus Ashlee decided it would be a good idea to mark her territory. We scurried into the nearest bathroom and since the bathroom was completely empty and there was not another person in the building we were in, I instructed her to go, wipe, wash and then come out of the bathroom where I'd be waiting for her. Wiping is a new skill for her, you see. We have two 4 year olds and I'm now down to only wiping 50% of our resident 4 year old butts. Ashlee is a self wiper these days so you can guess who is lazy in the self cleaning area.

Actually, I could just clap my hands because out of the 8 butts in our house, I'm down to only being responsible for wiping 5 of them. It's a milestone really. Seriously, there was a time when I was responsible for 7 of the 8 of the butts in our house. That's overwhelming on so many levels, folks.

Sorry for the over load of wiping details but I mean really people, I have 6 kids 6 years and younger. Don't read my blog if you don't expect some details about poop and it's related issues.

ANYWAY, after a few minutes I hear her yell from the bathroom stall, "I'M ALL DOOOOOONE!!!"

I poke my head in the bathroom and say, "Ok. Well, wipe."

"I can't," Ashlee retorts.

"Why not?" I ask, less than enthused.

"Because. I gots to know how many poo poos there are so you can wipe them."

"Excuse me?" I question.

So I guess she thinks maybe speaking more slowly will help me comprehend, "I...said...I...gots...to....know...how...many...poop....there...are....so you can wipe them."

Obviously the slower speech did not help. "What? Why can't you just wipe yourself Ash?" I ask, bouncing Ella on one hip and less then thrilled that Ashlee is taking SOFRIGGIN'LONG in the bathroom.

"Mom! I don't know how many poops there are so I can't wipe good!" she exclaims, almost as weary as I am from all the not understanding.

"Um. Okay. Can I just hand you the toilet paper then?" I question.

"Yep, and I'll count."

I rip a few squares off, hand them to my toilet perching daughter and she says, "One...." a few more squares..."Two...." a few more squares..."Three...." a few more squares...."Four...." a few more squares..."Five...okay, just one more I think..." a few more squares..."Six! That's how many!"

"Um. So Ash, do you count how many poops there are and then wipe that many times?" I ask, stifling a chuckle.

"YES! And there were just too many poops to count this time so I couldn't do it by myself," she says cheerfully, clearly relieved I finally get it.

"Oh. Good to know," I laugh.

We wash, wipe and exit with Ashlee skipping away joyfully and me amazed at how differently God created each of my babies.

Now, if Lucas could just get a handle on counting maybe this wiping issue would resolve itself.

Das Not Funny! Friday: With a volume that could make a dog's ears hurt

It's only late Friday night and I'm just getting around to posting this. Oh well, it's still Friday, right? I mean, what I meant was, IT'S FRIDAY RIGHT!! Wooohooo! I actually jotted some stuff down (which means I texted it to myself) when our kids said funny things this week. New to Das Not Funny! Friday? Well....click here to see what it's all about. A few things have changed since I wrote that first post. Mostly that I don't use the Linky anymore. So, if y'all want to link up, just leave your blog address in the comments. K? k.

Good...now on with the funnies....

Over these last few official weeks of summer we've been pool hoppers. We went once with our friends the Hauts, then we went twice as a family and finally, on Tuesday my Mom and I took all 6 kids to the pool where my parents are members. It was exceedingly fun to watch our big kids (and Aaron) jump off the big diving boards. At one point I swam out into the deep end to watch them closer. Ashlee spots me and swims over to me and says,

"Mom. I want to marry you."

"Ashlee! You can't marry me! For one thing, I'm your Mom and for two I'm a girl and you're a girl."

"No I'm not," she replies with a smirk, "I'm a boy."

"Oh you are?" I respond, "A boy named Ashlee? I guess that's possible but how come you look like a sweet little girl if you're a boy?"

And Ashlee, almost laughing before she speaks, says in the deepest voice her tiny self can muster, "Well. I'm really a boy. Can't you hear?"

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In our former vehicle, the Big Red Beast we had fold down TV screen and VCR.

Yes, I'm serious. A VCR. Who still owns VHS tapes? Only us, apparently.

Anyway, we recently were gifted some giftcards to the Walmarts and we decided that we'd purchase a portable DVD player that we could use in our new van, The Silver Bullet. Typically we only put on a movie when the ride will be over 30-45 minutes long or if we know we are going to be doing a lot of driving around town where only 1 of us is getting in and out of the car. Wednesday night was such a night. As I turned on a movie that had somehow gotten tucked away, Lucas calls to us, from the second row of seats,

"Hey Mom. Back when we were 3 and Elizabets was 5 we loved this movie."

Yep. A whole 3 months ago, son. Good memory! Now, remind me again how you forget to put your shoes in your closet every time you come in the door?

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As we were heading out the door one morning this week I casually asked Ashlee,

"Sis, have your brushed your teeth already this morning?"

To which she responds with, "Yep. I brushed-ed my teeth and now my bad breaf is all gone! Smell!"

Um. I'll take your word for it.

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We have a dog. She's a sweet, sweet dog. She was actually our very first child and will be 8 years old this year. I know I rarely speak of Brinkley, our golden retriever, but truly she is the best dog a Mom of 6 could ever ask for. The kids love her. She responds exceptionally well to whistling and the kids have picked up on this.

Too bad NONE of them can whistle. Ashlee, however, has figured out how to capture Brinkley's attention without the need to whistle. Oooooo yeah folks. My sweet little Drama Princess can SQUEAK HER VOICE TO SOUND JUST LIKE WHISTLING.

It's annoyingly cute.

And apparently, Ashlee has decided that Ella enjoys the same decibel and frequency "whistle" as Brinkley does.

As we rode to church on Wednesday morning for our church's monthly Parent's Day Out (which is just a blessing, can I just tell you?) the following conversation transpires.

Ash, squeaking at Ella in the same tone/decibel/frequency/as whistling for the dog: "HEY ELLA! PRETTY GIRL! YOU LOVE ME DON'T YOU! OH ELLA! ELLA-BELLA! ELLA-BELLA-WELLA!"

Lucas: "Ashwee, nobody 'cept Ella likes that."

Elizabeth: "Yeah. Stop it Ash. It's hurting my head."

Ash, seemingly unphased by their protests, and in fact, raising her volume if that was at all possible: "ELLA-BELL-WELLA!! YOU'RE THE SWEETEST WITTLE GIRL! I WUV YOU ELLA-BELL!! HEY ELLA!!!"

Me, trying not to burst into laughter: "Ash, did you hear them."

Ash: "Yeah, but I wike it anyway. DON'T I ELLA-BELLA-WELLA!?! WE WUV THIS! YOU WUV YOUR BIG SISSY, HUH ELLA-BELLA?!"

Have mercy. If Olivia is on pace to surpass Ashlee's volume and drama, I think I'm going to invest in some solid, heavy-duty ear plugs now. I figure that's cheaper than an eardrum transplant.

Y'all have a great weekend!

Das Not Funny! Friday: Clearly I have too much stuff in my brain to be concise

Welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday. I'd apologize in advance for the overuse of parenthesis and my inability to make this post short and sweet but that would only draw things out further. So instead, here's what you came for.

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This is my friend Grace.

(The one on the left, if you're unsure. I mean, I'm sure the cow is friendly an all, obviously, but the cow's not my friend. Unless she's been fire-grilled to medium rare and comes with her other friend Mr. Baked Potato Head, then we're BFFs.)

Anyway, Grace is about to begin her junior year of college. She just returned from a 9 week summer internship in Kenya with some other friends of ours. Our kids love Grace a whole lot. We went to the airport to pick up Grace when she got back home last week.

When Grace stopped by our house a few days ago, Elizabeth said "I missed you so much Grace! You still even smell like Swahili!"

I'm still trying to decide if that was a compliment.

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Grace brought back with her lots of Kenyan goodies including our kikoi dresses. And, every time I've seen Grace since her return from African she's been wearing a headscarf. So naturally, Grace thought it would be fun to put the headscarf on Ella. You know, to hold back all of her hair and stuff.

I'm sure Ella appreciates being our real, live dress up doll. I'm beginning to wonder if God accurately assessed our maturity level before assigning us all these kids. (For the record, Grace doesn't have 2 lazy eyes. Luke was trying to get Ella to look up for the camera and apparently his baby attracting hilarity caught Grace's eyes. Both of them.)

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On Tuesday night Elizabeth had her first ever sleepover. If you consider a sleepover one that includes sleeping in sleeping bags in our living room with someone other than your siblings when your guest's parents are not also staying at our house for the night. The girls chose to watch a Barbie movie so I allowed Lucas to choose a "boy" movie. He chose a Marvel comics animated movie. Something about Heroes. Clearly it wasn't nearly the attention grabber for me as the Barbie's Mermaid Tale movie. I mean, the plot line alone was magnificent or slightly above making me want to gouge my eyes out. You can decide.

Annnnyway, (there's a point, I promise) since watching the Superhero cartoon (where the caracters in a time of heroic need say, "Who's gonna hero up!?!" and that quote alone has been used by Lucas approximately 7,638 times since Tuesday night whilst he leaps off of something tall enough to make me gasp for air since I'm sure he's about to break a bone or fracture his skull. Thank you Marvel comics. I'll send you the bill for the injuries we are certain to acquire in the next 52 hours.)

Where was I? Oh yeah. GETTING TO THE POINT. Heh.

All that to say, Superheros have become a BIG DEAL around here. One day since Tuesday (I can't even stay on track while I'm typing so don't expect me to know what stinkin' day it was) someone (can't remember who) asked Lucas,

"Lucas, what's your superhero name?"

To which he replied, "Oh man! I'm never gonna talk about that."

Alrighty then. Hope our home is never in need of him to HERO UP! Or if a mysteriously masked man, who's only 4 feet tall, comes flying through our house in a time of rescue I'll just presume it's my unnamed superhero son and carry on.

Whichever.

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I've been working on this post on and off all day (Thursday) and shortly after dinner tonight, I was talking to Luke about Lucas' overuse of the phrase, "WHO'S GONNA HERO UP!!!" and how that phrase and Lucas' actions had saved me earlier from certain peril when the big girls decided it was time to tackle me and have a ticklefest.

Upon hearing the recount of his previous heroic effort, Lucas yells, "WHO'S GONNA HERO UP!" again and with it rushes Luke and punches him in the place that brings even grown-up heroes to their knees.

Which made Luke and I both burst into tears for entirely different reasons.

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As I said above, in much too many words, our sweet little friend Lauralyn spent the night on Tuesday night. As we went around the living room allowing each of the big kids to say their prayers my heart began to get nostalgic. Then Luke says, "Lauralyn, it's your turn to pray."

To which she tenderly responds with, "Knock, knock."

For the next 45 minutes the giggles did not subside. And the kids thought it was funny too.

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Aaron is potty training, which totally reminds me of why I never, ever, ever want a puppy ever, ever, ever again. Puddles are not totally uncommon in our house but typically they are innocent puddles of water or a liquid from a spilled sippy cup. With Aaron being nude from the waist down, our puddles aren't so innocent these days.

At any rate, Aaron finally, finally pooped in the potty. I got so excited sitting there in the bathroom with him (you know, trying to encourage him and thinking in my mind ONE LESS IN DIAPERS) and began squealing and clapping my hands. I use our hand sign language and say, "Aaron you pooped! More Aaron, more!"

To which he responds with, gruuuuunt.strain.fakepush., "It stuck."

Good to know. At least until later when it became dislodged right on the chair in the kitchen. Lucky me.

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And that's it for the Beaver house this week. Well, truthfully, there were others but I don't remember them. Let me know if there is anyone else writing Das Not Funny! Friday posts and I'll be happy to put up a Linky so that we can all read your funnies.

Happy Friday y'all. Try to hero up this weekend, okay?