The View From A Slightly Twisted Angle

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How Did We Get Here?

on January 8, 2013

Today was the first day back to school for my children.  Yes, I also found it a little strange that they didn’t start back until a Tuesday but then someone explained to me that the administration wanted to be sure the teachers had two full weeks off  and had school started Monday they would have had to be back last Friday.  Okay.  I believe all teachers deserve two full weeks off so I was willing to put up with my children being on break an extra day even if it is weird.   I must say, though, that there were signs that it was time to get back to “normal”.  The first came late last week when I arrived home to find my husband with that look in his eyes.  No – not that look. The “I have spent too many days at home with my kids while my wife is at work” look.  After I inquired concerning his mental health he assured me that he was fine but he was defiantly ready for school to start again.  (How many people now have “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” running through their head?  Just me?  Figures….)  Thankfully – for him – he left over the weekend for work so he missed the final day of break yesterday.  Yesterday.  The day I figured out it was time for school to start again.

Arriving home for my lunch break yesterday I found my children engaged in various activities.  Or lack of activities as the case may be.  The first indicator that this break was a little long was that they were excited to see me.  I’m guessing they had a little too much “together” time.  To show me how loved and missed I was the younger two, Jakob and Lyndsie,  sat with me at the table as I ate my lunch chatting about….well….nothing really.  Our oldest daughter, Brittnie,  was also in the room busy at the computer re-editing the paper she edited fourteen times over break.  The rough draft is due Friday.  The rough draft.  (Yes.  She is a geek but she’s my geek!) While she was typing along she had her headphones on listening to some station on Pandora.  This is a skill she did not acquire from her mother.  If I listen to music while I’m typing somehow the lyrics to the song that is playing appear on the screen.  (That will be good information for you should you ever run across “we go together like ramalamalama dadingitydingdedong” in the middle of one of my blogs by the way.)  Suddenly she unplugged her headphones turned to me and said, “Where have I heard this song?”  I love questions like that.  Because I should know where she heard a song.  “Ummm….” I responded, “I’m not sure where you’ve heard this song but it’s pretty popular.  It’s been in several movies.”  She turned back around and, because she is my kid, began to investigate from which movie she’d heard the song.    The rest of this story will explain how I knew it was time for break to be over. It is also demonstrate how conversations spiral out of control at my house.

Brittnie: “I think it was on ‘The Last of The Mohicans'”

Me: “Really?  Never saw that movie.”

Brittnie: “You never saw it? Really?”  Why do kids ask you that like you lie all the time or something?

Me: “Nope.  Unless I am feeling highly intelligent and educational I try to avoid movies with massacres and sub-titles.” (Keep in mind that I have no idea if this movie has sub-titles. I’ve never seen it.) “Those tend to appear in movies about Native Americans a lot.”

Lyndsie: “Not in Pocahontas!”

Again because these are my children both girls suddenly began singing (at exactly the same time – it really was rather eerie.) “Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?”  (Click here if you’d like to hear the full song.  I just got that one phrase.)

Me: “I’ve never seen a blue corn moon.  Wait maybe I have.  I don’t know what one is.”

Lyndsie: “What is blue corn anyway?”

Brittnie: “I think it’s the stuff they used to call ‘Indian corn’ but we can’t call it that now.  What do we call it? Confetti corn? Flint corn? Something like that.”

Me: “Whatever it is it affects the moon.”

Jakob: “And makes wolves cry.”

Me: “Yeah.  I’d be a little more worried about that.  Especially if I were Pocahontas. She didn’t have door locks. ”

Jakob: “So?”

Me: “If there is a wolf howling outside I want a lock on my door.”

Jakob: “Mom.  Wolves don’t hurt people.”

Me: “Sure they don’t.”

Jakob: “They really don’t.”

Brittnie: “Great.  If there is ever a wolf in the back yard we can send Jakob out to deal with it.”

My youngest son was not going to be distracted from making his point and getting the last word.  (I have no idea where he got that quality.  Must be his father.)

Jakob: “Wolves aren’t that much different from dogs.  They are from the same family.”

Brittnie: “That’s kind of like saying Erik (our 21-year-old son) and Lyndsie are the same because they are from the same family. Erik being the wolf of course.”  (Nothing like throwing your brother, who isn’t there, under the bus.)

Lyndsie: “Then what am I?”

Brittnie: “One of those small yappy dogs.  Like a chihuahua.”

Lyndsie: “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Me: “Fine.  You are a Scottish terrier.”

Lyndsie: “I’m more like a husky. Fat and lazy.”

Me: “No Jakob is more like a husky.” Then realizing I had just put my foot in it I did what all good mothers do when they realize they just said something really stupid.  I kept talking. “Huskies are not fat they are sturdy and strong.  They are loyal, always warm (I will add here that our youngest son is one of the warmest blooded people I have ever met.  EVER!) and have beautiful eyes.  See? That’s Jakob. And they are not lazy. They are some of the hardest working dogs around. ”  Nice save Mom!

Brittnie: “Yeah. Don’t you ever watch movies?? ‘Balto’? ‘Eight Below’?”

Lyndsie: “Weren’t the huskies the ones the dog sled guy said were all brawn and no brains?” (reference: Eight Below)

Me: “No those were the Alaskan Malamutes.  Erik would probably be more of an Alaskan Malamute than a wolf actually.” (Mom rule #342: It is okay to throw your college age son under the bus if it saves your fanny from saying something potentially hurtful to your youngest son a few sentences ago.  Particularly if said older son is more known for his weight lifting records than his scintillating conversations.  Besides he will never know.  Unless he reads your blog of course.  Even then he won’t care because he wants you to mail the laundry he left at home to him.  He’s no dummy. Moms never just mail laundry.  Don’t get mad at the woman who sticks snacks in the box with your sweat pants.  Oooo…I’m rambling in the midst of telling a story about rambling….. That’s bad isn’t it?)

Lyndsie: “Okay. What is Brittnie then?”

Me: “A Golden Retriever:  Loyal,  pretty relaxed, even-tempered and calm unless they get fixated on something that is bothering them.  Then they are annoying as heck.”

Lyndsie: ” So why am I the only one who is a yappy little annoying dog??”

Me: “I don’t know Lyndsie. Why are you a yappy little annoying dog?”

Lyndsie: (amid the uproarious laughter of her siblings) “Mooooooom!”

Me: “On the bright side when Scottish Terriers are being calm and quiet they are some of the stinking cutest dogs around.”

Brittnie: “Let that be a lesson Lyndsie. Calm and quiet equal cute.”  I don’t think that was helping much.

Suddenly Jakob was feeling left out: “Mom I think you are a collie.”  Since our dog was a golden retriever/collie mix he thinks that is a high compliment.

Me: “I’m not that energetic.  Nope.  I’m more like a good old mutt.”

Suddenly a thought hit me.  I turned to my oldest daughter and asked, “How did we get here anyway??”

Her reply: ” ‘Last of The Mohicans’ Mom. Remember?”

Oh right.  That makes perfect logical conversation sense.

weird conversations

Okay, so in my childrens’ case it is “weird conversations with your family”, but…….

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9 responses to “How Did We Get Here?

  1. javaj240 says:

    Great ramble… perhaps we should switch blog names… LOL! Conversations in my house go pretty much the same way, by the way.

    • wedelmom says:

      I will take “great ramble” as a HIGH compliment coming from you. 😉
      It’s good to know we are not the only people who regularly have conversations that could be classified as “Classic ADD Symptoms”

  2. Oh, that is so great! I can’t wait until my kids are older and we can have such intelligent conversations!!!

  3. I love those kind of “Seinfeld-esque” conversations that seem hard to follow, but make perfect sense. I think I’d be a wiener dog…short legs.

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