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Mommy’s little football fans …
Middle man has always been our loudest kid–even when he was only about a year old. Takes after mom in that way, I guess. So, in honor of Friday–and to leave all the stresses and hot messes of the week behind–I give you the Photo of the Day.
Let out your best primal scream. Beat your chest. Punch someone in the face. It’s Friday. Live it up.
I will try to keep up with giving you a photo of the day each and every day (wow. imagine that. not a photo of the day every week instead?)
Things are loud as hell and crazier than ever in the Jackson 5 home. Right now, as I type this, doors are slamming (already one door jam is broken in this house), boys are screaming, and I’m about to run into the street with a white flag. When did motherhood become such a joy?? I swear to GOD my sisters and I were NEVER this loud and obnoxious. Yes, to some degree this can all be blamed on testosterone, but at some point in the history of mothering, somewhere around, say, 1980, I think things took a drastic turn for the worse. Kids are not kids like kids were kids when I was a kid. I know it makes me sound old to say that–and hell, I’m not yet 35, so I don’t think I’m old–but crap, kids are horrible nowadays. HORRIBLE. Don’t let anyone tell you their kids aren’t horrible. They all are. Horrible and lovable and adorable and Satan all wrapped into one bundle of dynamite about to blow up in your face. Take for instance, our kids. One second, they are absolutely stunning and amazing and doing things I never thought possible from a 7, 5 or 1 year old. Then, a second later, they’re stunning and amazing me by doing things I never thought possible. Yeah. That kind of stuff. You know, saying things they shouldn’t say (“Mom, is Jesus Christ a swear word or a bad word?”), doing things they shouldn’t do (kicking doors so hard that the door jam breaks away–did I mention that one?).
Then, like I said, the brightest kids on the block return to dazzle me by reading many grade levels ahead of theirs, building things with such precision that a mouse could make it a mansion, or finally learning who mommy and daddy are (we don’t have high expectations for the 1-year-old just yet. Learning who we are is a huge step in the right direction!)
So anyway … it all reminded me of why I came here tonight to post in the first place. Here’s my favorite passage from my favorite book: Alice in Wonderland (of course).
Enjoy. And think of the Jacksons. We’re all mad here as well.
(thanks to kody for the clip from apple.com!)
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be, ” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
Our middle man, E, says things sometimes that make me just look at him and wonder where in the heck he came from. Take for instance, today, which was a repeat of a few weeks ago when we had the exact same conversation. And thank God he brought it up again…my husband hadn’t heard this one yet. To hear it from the horse’s mouth–well, it’s classic stuff. As the saying often goes: I couldn’t make this up if I tried.
“Ewww, gross, he has a big, yellow ball of ear wack in his ear.” (E, speaking of his baby brother)
“It’s ear WAX, E, how many times do I have to tell you that? It’s not wack–it’s wax. With an x. It’s how it’s spelled.” (me … constantly trying to explain grammar, spelling and punctuation to a just-turned-5-year-old, and getting frustrated when he doesn’t get it. Brilliant on my part.)
“No it isn’t, mom. It’s a piece of wack. Look, there’s only one piece.”
One of my favorites … Little Man’s chubby baby hands …
