My Son

8:00 pm on a Sunday, getting ready for bed.  I mention that Monday is March 14... Pi day. 

Colby: "OH YEAH!!  That's right!  Pi day!  I told my teacher I'd bring a pie to school tomorrow to celebrate Pi day!" 

Seriously?? NOW you remember?  As we're getting ready for bed???

Colby: "Mom, you know I have a selective memory."

OH how I know you have a selective memory, Colbyman.  He can recall the name and superpower of any mythological character.  But thinking ahead for school???? Nada.

So both boys stayed up late, and baked a last-minute pumpkin pie, well beyond bedtime.  Which, of course they LOVED, and wasn't nearly the "natural consequence" I was hoping it would be. 

Oh well.  At least he didn't remember on Monday morning in the car on the way to school!

The Root of the Problem

Mom: "Colby, for the fifth time... PRACTICE YOUR DRUMS!"
Colby: "Why now?  I've got lots of time left in the day."
Mom: "If you do it now, it's done, and you can relax the rest of the day."  (side note... "relaxing all day" is not something either one of my boys struggles with in the least).  "Then I don't have to nag you for the next six hours.  Just get it done!"
Colby: "Mom, that is future me's problem.  Not my problem."
Mom: "Well, present me needs to start kicking it into gear, so future me isn't grounded."

UGH.  THAT is the problem.  There's always a procrastination clause in everything.

Conversation In The Car

On the way to school today, with the winter bearing down on us all a little too hard:

Quinn: "Reagan, you're just annoying."
Mom: "Quinn, that is such an unkind thing to say.  That's not ok."
Quinn: "How is that any different than you calling me a picky eater?"
Mom: "You are a picky eater.  That's an objective, quantifiable and verifiable fact.  'Annoying' is a subjective opinion."
Quinn: "You can use all the big words you want, but calling me a picky eater is just as unkind as calling Reagan annoying."
Mom: "I can quantify what percentage of dinners you refuse to eat, because you do not like them.  It's like 95%"
Quinn: "Mom, I like lots of foods.  It's just the stuff YOU make that I don't like."

AND.... there it is.  Maybe I should give up cooking altogether.  The boys would be perfectly happy to survive on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of their days.

Dad may have a thing or two to say about that, though. 

I get NO RESPECT around here.  NONE, I tell you!!!  I am the Rodney Dangerfield of mothers.

Quinn Aho: Regional Freethrow Champion

So, on a last-minute whim, Quinn decided to participate in a local Knights of Columbus Free Throw competition.  We arrived late at the gym, which was already full of really tall high-school players shooting around, slam-dunking and the like.   Quinn looked decidedly nervous.  The coach looked him over as we walked in the gym.

"What are you here for?" he asked.
Quinn didn't answer, so I did for him.  "The free throw contest?"
"And how old are you?" coach asked.
"Uhhhh..... eleven." Quinn muttered.
"Eleven?" coached asked.
"Yeah," Quinn replied.
"What's your name?"
"Quinn," he said, staring down at his toes.
"Well, Quinn," coached announced.  "Congratulations.  You just won."

HUH????

Apparently, he was the only eleven year old in his category.  So.... SCORE!  Literally!

Despite making only 3 of 15 free-throws, Quinn won a leather basketball, a certificate naming him the Regional Free-throw Champion, and a patch with his new title that could be sewn on to his jacket.  Suprisingly, he has not asked me to sew that on for him just yet.

He now moves on to the area-wide competition in a month. 

Maybe we should practice a little.

Quinn got a kick out of all of this.  On the way home, he said "So, if I go to area-wide and no one shows up, then I move on to state-wide.  After that is nationals, and the world-wide.  I could get a free trip, if no one shows up!!

Can't you see the headline, Mom?  'Quinn Aho.  He Showed Up.'"

hee hee hee.

That's a new life-time motto.  He. Showed. Up.  Yes he did.

Filed under "He Needs to do the dishes more."

After dinner, Colby asked to be excused.
Mom: "Yes.  Put the food you didn't eat in some Tupperware, and you can finish it tomorrow."
Colby: "Tupperwhat?"
Mom: "Tupperware."
Colby: "What the heck is that?"
Mom: "Tupperware?  You don't know what Tupperware is?"
Colby: "No one does.  What is that?"
Mom: "The plastic containers with the lids?"
Colby: "Oh, like that clear wrap?"
Mom: "NO!!"
Quinn: "You don't know what Tupperware is?"
Colby: "Like you do."
Quinn: "Yes.  I do.  It's this!"  And he goes into the kitchen, and digs around in my Tupperware cupboard, making a horrific mess and bringing out one rectangular container.
Colby: "Oh.  That must have a different name."
Mom: "Yes.  It does.  It's called Tupperware."

Good Grief.

Conversation In the Car

On the way to school today, Colby said something unkind to his sister.  As he tends to do.

Mom: "Colby, that was not kind."
Colby: "Well, it wasn't mean.  It just wasn't necessarily nice."
Mom: "It was mean, Colby.  You need to show kindness in order to receive kindness."
Colby: "That's totally untrue."
Mom: "No it's not.  Kindness begets kindness, and it needs to start somewhere.  You should try it sometime."
Colby: "I did.  I used to be nice all the time.  And it didn't work out so well."

Hmmmmmm.  When was that??  Sounds like there's more to that story that he's not telling me!

Thanks.

We were having a slumber party, the kids and I - all piled in the bed together over Christmas Vacation.  Reagan, for some reason, asked me how old I was.

Me: "Well, figure it out."
Colby: "She's 45".
Me: "NO I'M NOT!!!"
Colby: "Well, you're close to 45.  Dad's 45."
Me: "He is.  I'm MUCH younger."
Reagan: "Well then, how old are you?"
Me: "Figure it out.  I was born in 1972, and it's now 2015."
Reagan: "I know, you're 43."
Me: "Yes."
Quinn: "See, Reagan, it went like this.  First there was Adam and Eve.  Then there was Mom."

WHAT???????  EXCUSE ME?????  I get no respect around here.