At the Beach

Casey and the girls on the Pacific coast yesterday afternoon.

The Herd Overheard

I’ll start off with a few things I wrote down years ago, when Ruby was little and I started hearing myself say some pretty absurd things.  (Sadly for these posts, I have since gotten used to saying these strange things and don’t think of writing them down anymore.)

To Ruby (21 months), while in the grocery store: “Please don’t write on the celery.”  --11/9/06

Hanging out near 4 month-old Claire: “Don’t let Claire suck on your toes.”  --11/30/06

(In the back yard) “You may not feed her dirt!” (Claire, 9 months, in her walker, eating away happily.)  --5/2/07

(Two years old, during dinner) “Feet do not belong in your macaroni.”  --5/6/07

I have one thing written down that I found myself saying to 14-month-old Claire: “Don’t blow your nose into your sandwich.” –9/10/07

Of course, Ruby has had strange things come out of her mouth for awhile.  When she was 2 1/2, she walked into the kitchen, sniffing, and her toddler mind deduced: “It’s not poop I smell.  It’s muffins.”  --11/27/07

One of the first funny things I remember about Ruby is from when she was about 2 years old.   Case was watching an action-filled movie one Saturday afternoon as she played near him.  She looked up to see a speeding car careen around a curve and flip multiple times, exploding into flames and finally come to a rest; a heap of smoking, twisted metal.

Ruby: “Oopsy-Daisy.”

 

Okay, on to the more recent past (it has been quite a while since I last did one of these posts).

 

A clear delineation between our oldest girls’ personalities:

Claire: “ Mom, do you know why I like to finger paint? Because I get to stick my fingers in it!”

Ruby: “I don’t like it because you have to stick your fingers in it.  I like to use a paint brush instead.”  --2/19/10

 

When we were going through this phonics program, I would have Ruby sound out a word, then use it in a sentence.  Sometimes, this made for some interesting sentences.  (*= Please don’t report us to social services.)

The word: “rat.”

The sentence: “Rats can run faster than a gentleman.”  --2/21/10

 

The word: “mat”

The sentence: “Matt at church.”  (A young man who hands out bulletins and often opens the door for us.)

Me: “Well, that Matt is spelled differently.  This is a different kind of mat, like one you keep by the door to wipe your feet.”

Ruby: “But Mom, Matt is a ‘door Matt’.”  --2/21/10

 

The word: “leg”

The sentence: “It’s like. . . you lost a leg.”  --2/26/10

 

The word: “pick”

(You think you know what’s coming here?  Don’t be too sure.)

* The sentence: “Someone picking a knife out of they’s leg.”  --3/1/10

 

( Upon my having just ordered donuts from the newly re-opened Krispy-Kreme drive-thru.)

Ruby: “Oh,  you’re so special to us!”

Claire: “You’re so special, we might keep you.”  --2/23/10

 

Ruby: “Mom, my leg hurts like it’s Italian.”

then, to clarify:

“It burns like it has Italian dressing.”  -3/16/10

 

Ruby: “When God saves my soul, I’ll be a good girl.”

Claire (scrunching up her face very seriously): “Uh, Ruby, I don’t know if that will happen.”  --3/29/10

 

Claire, commenting on Haley’s diaper as I change it: “I think she go’ed diarrhea.  I don’t think she’s out of the woods with her diarrhea.” –4/26/10

(“Her diarrhea.”  This wording is not incidental.  Haley had this issue for over 6 months—our pediatrician’s office said it wasn’t something about which they were concerned—seriously: they say it’s called “toddler diarrhea”—to which I wanted to say, “Oh, good.  So you wouldn’t mind changing her diapers, then?”  But I digress.  It was such a regular (yuk, yuk) occurrence that at one point a couple months ago, she would warn me by telling me she had “di-yer-pee-you.”)

 

Claire (watching a bird perched near our house):  “ I think he’s saying our new car looks cool to him.”

Me: “Oh really?  How do they usually say that?”

Claire: “In their heart.”  --5/25/10

 

Ruby, pulling a sesame seed off her burger’s bun: “Mom, could we plant this seed and grow a hamburger?” –6/13/10

 

Claire to Ruby (who was pretending to be a crying baby): “Shut that chunk of your face.”  --6/13/10

 

Claire, gazing at her baby brother: “Mom, I love Ian in real life.”  --8/19/10

 

Ruby to Claire, after having attended a baby shower with me: “It’s not watching a lady in a shower with her being naked.”  --9/9/10

 

Claire (to Ruby): “It’s okay.  I don’t matter.”

Me: “You don’t mind?”

Claire: “Mom, you don’t have to learn us everything.”

Me (can’t help myself): “I don’t have to teach you?”  --9/10/10

 

And for any of you who are doubtful that we have a handful-of-a –little-girl at our house, I give you the following:

Claire (a no-nonsense explanation why Ruby is crying): “I was hitting her and that reminded me that I wanted to give her a knuckle sandwich.”  (Oh yes, she did.)  --9/11/10

 

Ruby, going through my baking drawer: “Ooo, a thermometer.”

Me: “That’s a candy thermometer.”

Ruby gives an excited gasp, then places the thermometer in the nearby candy cupboard, waits a moment, studying the numbers, then, disappointed: “It’s not doing anything.”

 

Ruby, singing a Scripture song: “Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved; you and your houseboat.” (household)  --9/20/10

(Which reminds me of some other songs she used to sing that gave me a chuckle—picture a 2-3 year old:  “What a Mighty God We Serve” was “What a Mighty Godly Sir!” and “I Love the Mountains, I Love the Rolling Hills” was heard as “I Love the Rolling Pins.”  Last December, “Jimmy Crack Corn” had some interesting lyrics, too: “Gimme That Bird and I Don’t Care. . . My Monsters Go Away.”)

 

Claire: “God made it rain to water the plants.”

Casey: “Yep.  You’re right.”

Claire: “I’m almost always right.”  --9/22/10

Guest Post by Ruby

Hello, blogging friends!  Home school is in full swing here, and that is a post all to itself.  Quickly, I’ll just say that I have a new respect for homeschoolers (I always have respected you.  I just do even more now.)

Ruby’s Language Arts assignment today was to dictate to me a story that is familiar to her.  She picked Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  Without further ado, here is her (completely unadulterated) version:

One day, the three little bears woke up and they’s mom maked porridge and the daddy bear said, “The porridge is too hot.” So, the mommy bear said, “We can go on a walk.”

 

They forgot to lock they’s door. Goldilocks looked in the window and knocked on the door, but nobody was home. She came in the house. Goldilocks tasted the mommy bear’s porridge.

 

It was too soft. Then she tried the daddy bear’s porridge and it was too hot. She tried the baby bear’s and it was just right, so she ate it all gone.

 

So, she tried the mommy bear’s rocking chair, but it was too soft. She tried the daddy bear’s, but it was too hard. So Goldilocks go’ed on the baby bear’s rocking chair and rocked and rocked until she broke it.

 

She tried the daddy bed, but it was too long, and she tried the mommy bear’s, but the pillow was too “up.” She tried the baby bear’s, and it was juuuust right, so she slep and she slep.

 

The mommy bear came home and the daddy bear. The baby said, “My porridge is all gone.” And so the mommy bear said “Sombody tried my porridge,” and the daddy bear said, “Somebody tried my porridge.”

 

Now they looked in the bed and so the baby bear saw that one and it said, “can you play with me?” but Goldilocks was so scared, she hopped out the bed and runned out the window.

E end.