Bedtime, Conversations

When do I get a TV in my room?

 

Jack posed the question tonight after we watched Big Bang Theory.

me: When you’re 32.

Jack: I’m SEEErious!

me: When you’re a teenager?

Jack: My FRIENDS have TVs in their rooms!

me: We have a TV right here. You can use it anytime you want.

Jack: But I have to walk ALL the way down here from up there and that’s too much effort!

me: Get used to it. It’s good exercise. (omg I sound like my parents)

Jack: So I’ll NEVER have a TV?

me: In maybe 6 years? I don’t even have a TV in my room. So why would you get one?

Jack: What a life. How about watching PG-13 movies? Can I do that?

me: 6 years.

Jack: Sigh. Why do grown ups always say you’re only young once. Young stinks.

Bedtime

What exactly can I do when I’m 8?

 

me: You mean like what things will you learn between now and then?

Jack: No. I mean can I play M-rated video games, or plug things into outlets or get a dirt bike?

me: Probably not.

Jack: When I turned 7 you let me chew gum. 8 just has to be better than that.

(he pauses and thinks for a minute)

Jack: Can I see my birth certificate? The real one? It tells if you’re REALLY my parent, right??

me: Sighhh…

Bedtime

Failure…is NOT an option!

Jack: Sighhhhhh…

me: What’s going on?

Jack: I wish I had a girlfriend…sighhhhh…

me: What about Gigi?

Jack: Uh, she hardly knows I exist!

me: She’s your friend, of course she knows you exist.

Jack: She doesn’t even sit at my table. Remember? She sits at the BRUTAL table. SIGHHHHHH!!!

me: Well, do something nice for her and maybe she’ll notice you.

Jack: I did actually help her with some work today… (he ponders that for awhile with a smile)

me: Well, why don’t you just ask her to be your girlfriend?

Jack: And when exactly am I supposed to do that? There are 2 girls at her table that won’t let me near her and one boy that will just say EWWWW!

me: Get her alone in the hall.

Jack: WHEN??

me: On the way to lunch maybe?

Jack: Oh, so then everyone will wonder why we’re behind in line and then ask what we’re talking about? No WAY.

me: Why don’t you write her a note, put it in an envelope and tell her to read it when she gets home?

Jack: I do NOT want a repeat of MEGAN from last year.

me: (trying not to laugh remembering all the angst of the marriage proposal) Oh yeah…

Jack: So what’s my other option?

me: Give up?

Jack: Failure is NOT an option MOM!

 

I’m just gonna say, sometimes I seriously forget that I’m speaking to a boy that recently turned 7.

Bedtime

2 kinds of jerks

Oh the conversations we have directly before bed. Is Jack just emptying his head of all the nonsense he’s picked up throughout the day? He always get so talkative when we’re trying to get his teeth brushed!

 

Jack: Do you know there are two kinds of jerks?

me: Which are…?

Jack: There’s the BAD kind, and then there are Junior Educated Rick Kids. Hahahahahaha!

me: (I didn’t even ask…)

 

And here’s a glimpse of what I went through while trying to get Jack to brush. We had many costume changes for some reason. It was just that kind of night.

Bedtime, Travel

Are you tripping?

Jack: Are you tripping again?

me: Excuse me?

Jack: Going on trips. You know!

me: I have two more trips for work then I’m done…

Jack: Where do you go first?

me: Chicago…

Jack: Bring me back something Chicagoish!

He’s thinking of Home Alone where Kevin says bring me back something French. Too funny.

I’m in Chicago now. Woke up to use the bathroom and realized I hadn’t posted this. So here I am. Yawn. Chicago is pretty. It’s been in the 40s and pretty mild. I know I’m very lucky…

When I go home Jack has big plans for me.

Jack: How come you never sleep with me any more?

me: Any more??

Jack: You used to! This weekend you are sleeping in my room!

me: Okay…I can do that. Let’s make a date.

Jack: Orrr…I’ll sleep in your bed and in the morning you can get me the tray and bring me breakfast in bed! Slave it over to me. (he cracks up)

me: Not a chance mister.

Jack: When people sleep in other people’s beds they should be slaves to them.

me: (sigh) Then you’re MY slave.

Jack: Oh…that’s not how I want that situation to work out.

Bedtime, Conversations

If I had only planned ahead with this blogging thing…

I would have picked a name that didn’t need yearly updating. Hellooooo!!! More work for me! Could I possibly have something MORE to do in my free (hahahaha) time? And now, you lucky dogs, you’ll get some free press. From me. Thank you.

So, had I been smart, I might have grabbed “shit my kid says” (Already taken. This kid is 5.) …which leads one over to “shit my kids ruined” (hahahaha) or “shit my boy says” (Which is a Facebook page, and a damn funny one at that, but I didn’t want to step on toes with my blog) …oh and maybe avoid “shit my boyfriend says” (Unless you don’t mind hitting the “I’m okay with adult content” button) ohhhh actually there are two “shit my boyfriend says” blogs…ones a Tumblr…OR “shit my little shit says” (Damn, wait! This one is open people! Grab it!)

See? I just went for the age and the shit, and it had a little je ne sais quoi about it. N’est-ce pas?

Yes, therefore in about a month I will be updating my blog to shit my 7 year old says. I have a landing page up there. Eh. Maybe I’ll just change the header on this page and cross out the 6 and put a 7, whilst leaving the blog as shit my 6 year old says. Don’t want to lose my followers. That’s what happened when I went from 5 to 6. People get comfortable with a follow and don’t want to be hassled to RSS or email that sh*t up again. I understand. Completely!

What do you all think?

Anyway, (deep breath) after missing the school bus, driving Jack to school, going to work, working out at lunch, going home to meet the bus again, driving to get our Christmas tree, coming home and putting UP the tree, LIGHTING it, watering it and skirting it and such, making dinner, feeding the cats and then going to Tae Kwon Do and then putting Jack to bed and writing the above random mess…I hear the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs.

me: Heyyyy, what’s going on?

Jack: I’m scared?

me: Why? Come on let’s go back up to bed.

Jack: I’m scared of my shots when I turn 7 next month! And the finger prick!

me: Remember we talked about this? I won’t let them do the finger prick if you’re going to freak out. I promised you.

Jack: But you’ll forget!

me: Won’t you remind me? I won’t let them hurt you.

Jack: Promise!

me: Pinky swear promise.

Jack: And we can leave if they try?

me: Definitely. We’ll say no thank you, and we’ll walk out.

Jack: There’s no way you’re gonna remember that. You better write a note for yourself.

me: Thanks.

Bedtime, Conversations

I’m really sorry, but could you come back up here again!

me: Goodnight.

Jack: Goodnight!

me: (shutting door, going down two steps…)

Jack: MOM!

me: (back up) What’s up Jack?

Jack: My eye itches. Can I have a wet paper towel?

me: Sure… Here you go.

Jack: Thanks. Goodnight.

me: Goodnight. (I make it all the way down stairs)

Jack: MOMMMMM!

me: Sigh! (up the stairs) What’s going on?

Jack: I’m sorry, but my bed’s wet from the paper towel!

me: Why did you… Sigh, here move over.

Jack: All you’re doing is putting another blanket on top of it?

me: It’s fine. Goodnight.

Jack: Sigh…goodnight.

me: (I make it downstairs AND into the bathroom)

Jack: MOMMMMM!

me: (Ignore)

Jack: MOMMMMYYYY!

me: Grrr. (stomp up the stairs) Come on Jack, what’s up?

Jack: I’m really sorry! But I can’t find Stripey! I’m sorry!

me: It’s okay…sigh, here let me turn the lights on. Close your eyes.

Jack: (with his head under the covers) Where is she?

me: Oh I don’t know, move over again. (I shake out the blankets and she goes flying across the room). Here.

Jack: Thanks. I’m sorry. You sound mad.

me: Just tired that’s all. It’s okay.

Jack: (leaning over to see his clock) What time is it now?

me: Just go to bed!

Jack: All that back and forth and it only took 10 minutes. Not bad!

me: What are you talking about?

Jack: I usually make you go up and down for at least a half hour.

me: WHAT?? Are you kidding me?

Jack: Hahaha! I mean… SORRY!!!!

me: Goodnight!

Bedtime, Sleep

Jack: I hit my head really hard when I was dancing! Me: But, you were asleep…

How can a child actually hurt himself when he was (supposed to be) asleep? Oh that’s easy! Yeah like I know the answer. Jack was all tucked into bed, with a hot water bottle, because he’s 80, remember? He dozed off and I went down to take a shower. Out of habit, I grabbed the baby monitor because I can see if it turns to red while I’m in the shower. Red means he’s yelling or crying or whatever. I didn’t see anything. All of a sudden the bathroom door swings open and scares the crap out of me.

Jack: WAAAHHHHHHHH!!! I hit my head!

me: Hold on, let me get out of the shower… What the heck happened?

Jack: I was dancing and hit my head really hard.

me: You were sleeping!

Jack: No I was dancing and rocking back and forth.

me: In your sleep?

Jack: NO!

me: Does it hurt?

Jack: That’s why I’m crying!

me: Where are your clothes? (I notice that he has nothing on but little undies)

Jack: I took them off.

me: Seriously what kind of party was going on up there??

Jack: The kind that HURT MY HEAD! Can you look??

me: Oh, yeah, sorry. It looks okay. Do you want ice?

Jack: No I’m freezing.

me: Then get back in bed with the hot water bottle. And put your clothes on!

Jack: No, they make me sweat.

me: Sigh.

Bedtime, Emotions

5 best questions of the day

5 questions that led to lengthy discussions that is. A few happened right at bedtime, which is customary with Jack. Lights out, covered up in fluffy blankets, a few friends snuggled in, all is well in the world, and then WHAM!

1. Will I get a step mother that will replace you? (Uh…no.)

2. It’s really hard for a mom to be a mom, isn’t it? Why would anyone want to do it? They always have to get up and get you stuff, and there’s no qualifying exam, is there? (Amen.)

3. Why don’t we stop having babies and just let them grow up and live forever so no one has to die? We can just make houses really close together to fit everyone. (I love how he says “we”.)

4. Why do you sometimes forget dessert, when it has to happen every single night? (I’m a retard of course.)

5. I don’t want to die of carbon monoxide so can you please make an appointment to get the furnace cleaned?!! (Yes I’ll get right on that.)