Tag Archives: Humor

Inheriting our Best

We all want our kids to be better than we are. Better versions of ourselves, hopefully learning from the mistakes we’ve made or the qualities we possess that we’re not super proud of. I’m happy to report that  Riley has excellent comedic timing. I like to think he gets that from me (and yes, I’m the funniest person I know! I crack myself up daily!). From the time he heard Derek say that our backyard was flooded from all the rain, when he expertly farted loudly and proclaimed his butt was flooded, to this morning when he perfectly did the “sad trombone” womp womp sound when I mentioned that Charlotte would be napping this afternoon and couldn’t play with the water table. The kid has a sense of humor. And I like to think he got that from me.

But I think he also got one of my other characteristics. The fact that I hate rides. Rollercoasters, the Gravitron, I hate them all. I always have. I have distinct memories of yelling to a carnie to stop the ride when I was probably 8 years old. He didn’t stop the ride. I remember riding the Scrambler at a church festival and feeling the lack of oxygen to my head, thinking that at any moment I would pass out. That carnie wouldn’t stop the ride either. Damn carnies! Talk about poor customer service.

In May, I put Riley and my cousin’s 4-year old daughter on a ride at a church festival. As soon as the hot air balloon toddler right started, he was frozen, expressionless, gripping the center bar of the ride. Ella was laid back without a care in the world. She later asked to go on the roller coaster.

Riley was not a fan. Ella was out for an afternoon stroll.

Riley was not a fan. Ella was out for an afternoon stroll.

So last year at the zoo, Riley and I rode the carousel and I thought it would be a lovely mother-son bonding time. I plopped him up on a horse and climbed on the one next to him. The ride started and he kept repeating that he wanted to get off. I thought he’d change his tune and start loving it, but he didn’t. He didn’t cry, he didn’t smile, he just kept repeating that he wanted the ride to stop and he wanted to get off. I tried everything I could to reassure him, but he was not buying it.

When the ride did stop, we got off and he told his daddy that he did not like the ride and never wanted to ride it again.

Fast forward a full year. We were at the zoo this weekend and when I saw how unbelievably long the train line was, I suggested the carousel. And my 4-year old actually remembered that he hated it one year ago.

I guess he gets his amazing memory from his dad.

After a little encouraging, he agreed but only wanted to ride in “one of those seats.” You know, the benches on the carousel for old people? Those.

“But the giraffe and the tiger don’t go up and down like the horses. I’ll stand right next to you. Want me to put you on a giraffe? Or look at that cool tiger?”

“No, I want to ride in the seats.”

So, we rode in the seats. And he loved it.

Chilling on a bench on the carousel.

Chilling on a bench on the carousel.

“I guess the carousel isn’t so bad when you’re on a seat!” he proclaimed.

“You’re right, buddy. It was really fun sitting on the seat,” I said, and I meant it.

Hey, I’ve got a lot of good qualities. I know just about every lyric from just about any 80s song. I can cook. I always use my blinker when driving. Hopefully Riley will inherit some of these qualities, too. In the meantime, maybe he and I will watch from the sidelines while Daddy and Charlotte kick it on the Gravitron.

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Riley’s Birthday Party

What do you do when you have a birthday party scheduled and two days before, the birthday boy ends up with pink eye? Well, you pray the antibiotics work and you carry on as usual. Cue Riley’s 4th birthday party – pirate style.

Captain Pinkeye!

Captain Pinkeye!

We go all out for birthdays in our house. And why wouldn’t we? It’s a huge deal. This little boy brings so much happiness to everyone, that I can’t help but cave when he tells me what he wants for his birthday. A pirate shirt with a #4 on it? You got it, kid!

Pirate cake pops that took hours and hours to make? No problem-o!

Bakerella - I love you, but ain't nobody got time for this!

Bakerella – I love you, but ain’t nobody got time for this!

And yes, we used real coconuts as decorations and he thought it was pretty much the coolest thing ever. And yes, I let him drink the coconut water out of them after the party.

My parents made this extravagant pirate ship cake. He loved it. Another pre-requisite from the birthday boy was a 4 candle on his cake.

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The malted milk balls are cannonballs and the gummy worms are fish bait – get it? Thanks Pinterest!

We also did a pirate photo booth at his party. I bought a ton of pirate accessories and urged everyone to dress up and pose for funny pictures with some of our props. What resulted were hilarious pictures that we will have to blackmail our family for years to come.

I spy our house full of people! Yar!

I spy our house full of people! Yar!

So did he have a good time?

 

Sneakin' some frosting.

Sneakin’ some frosting.

I would say yes.

A chainsaw? Awesome!

A chainsaw? Awesome!

And little sis had a great time, too. Even though she would later get pink eye, too. AND her very first ear infection. 😦

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So no, it wasn’t easy to have 35 people over for our 4-year old’s birthday, but it was worth every single ounce of work that went into it. Definitely.

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Butts

Because Charlotte was up last night for over 2 hours (please let it just be a tooth coming in and not a protest over our well-received Ferberizing…), I need a good laugh today. And because of my little boy Riley, laughs are plentiful in our house.

It’s no secret that I love a good fart joke as much as the next gal. More, actually. And there have been many times over the last 3+ years that I’ve thought, “That’s my kid!” about Riley. None more so than recently, when his love for all things potty humor has completely exploded. No pun intended. Well maybe it was intended. HAHA!

It all started several weeks ago when one morning, as I always do, I asked what he dreamed about the night before.

“I dreamed that a pig was biting my butt,” he replied.

“Um, what?” I asked.

“A pig was biting my butt,” he said and then collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Since then, every morning, it’s been the same. He ALWAYS dreams about a pig biting his butt. Sometimes the pig bites his butt and drags him into the mud, too. For good measure, apparently.

Then the butt/poop/fart jokes became more frequent.

“Riley, what would you like for dinner?” I asked.

“Not poop stew!” he said. Well, no problem. We’re all out of potatoes so I couldn’t make poop stew even if I wanted to!

Throughout the day he sprinkles in toilet humor here or there. He’ll fart, say excuse me and then giggle uncontrollably. I don’t blame him. Some of them are really good!

I’ll ask a random question and he’ll answer randomly with “my butt.”

He once started a joke with, “Why does Mommy have smelly underwear?” I don’t remember the punchline because I was too horrified at how the joke was starting. Where does he get this stuff?

He also tells us to look at his butt. Especially when he’s been sitting in his baby sister’s Bumbo chair and tries to get up with it stuck onto his nearly 4-year old butt:

 

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So yes, this kid is all boy. And he’s all mine!

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