Some thoughts on Return of the Jedi

First of all, E asked, "Is this the one where Darth Vader becomes good and Luke finds out Leia is his sister?"

I stared at her blankly, not wanting to give anything away.

"Is it? IS IT? Oh man, if Darth doesn't become good then these movies are stupid and I'm never watching them again."

On the 'Slave Leia' outfit:

E: Is she even wearing anything?

S: She must feel pretty weird walking around like that.

Indeed.

No future in advertising, that's for sure

Two observations from E:

"I'm so sick of these ads -- they're always just telling us to buy stuff! And they tell you it's good for you, when it's really not!"

(This is in addition to her yelling at the TV whenever there is a contest for a 'family of 4' -- "WHAT ABOUT THE TRIPLETS?!?")

And this morning, when I told her we would have to pay to join a club in order to swim there:

"THAT STINKS. When *I* start a club, I'm not going to make people pay to join it."

Maybe we should encourage her to become a mime after all -- the whole 'throw whatever money you can spare into my hat' will appeal to her.  And it will pain her too much to charge people for looking after their pets if she becomes a vet.

:-/

(While watching TV, the girls note that the woman in a couple is much smaller than the man.)

E: Well, that's 'cause sometimes when people get old, they shrink! No offense, mommy...

Ear worm

Just wanted to share the pain, because this song has now been ruined for me.  Well, maybe not 'ruined.' It's up there with my sister's ex-boyfriend who invented background 'doo wop'-y vocals for Ramones songs, so now I can't hear those songs without adding in the extra parts...

Thanks to the children (and perhaps DH was involved) the lyrics to Knowing Me, Knowing You by ABBA will now forever be in my head as 'Going pee, going poo.'

I know I shouldn't find it amusing, but it is pretty funny when you consider the grateful/relaxed sounding 'ahaaaaaa' that comes next.

The child speaks her mind

The other day we had a great evening at our friends' big, beautiful new house. Did I mention it was big?

On the way home, DH was lamenting the size of our house (the last time we went to their house, on the way home he declared that we are 'living in squalor'), and these comforting voices piped up from the back of the van:

E: Pop, our house is big!

S: Yeah, Pop!

K: Eeeeenh...(and then she did the 'comme-ci comme-ca' hand move).


The next day we were going to church, and I had to read, and the girls were asking why I did that.

DH: Because your mother is a much better person than I am girls.

(simultaneously)
E: Pop, that's not true!

K: Yes, that is true, Pop.


Yesterday K and I were shopping in Wal-Mart (yes, yes, booo, I know), and I pointed out all of the back-to-school merchandise on display. She immediately began yelling, to no one in particular:

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, WAL-MART? IT'S ONLY JULY!!!

My only comfort is that it appears unlikely that she will ever be coerced into doing stupid teenagery things along with her stupid teenagery friends when the time comes, because clearly she has a mind--and a voice--of her own.

Better?

We were at a beautiful cottage on Lake Huron yesterday, and I didn't want a repeat of the mosquito feeding frenzy that I'd experienced recently. I got this 'patch' thing that keeps the critters away, which worked really well...but...I don't know what the main ingredient is, but I walked around the whole day smelling like a bag of BBQ chips. Or, more specifically, thinking that I smelled like a bag of BBQ chips, but actually just walking around with a couple of Hostess Hickory Sticks shoved up my nostrils.

I guess that's better.

Seriously?

We took the girls away to Toronto for a mini-adventure. A hot, humid adventure.

Highlights included taking the subway, and seeing a mummy at the ROM. We also had dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory and I took the girls on a little tour, showing them the exact spot where the customer was sitting when I dumped a steak and spag in his lap.

We then had a leisurely trip home, stopping at IKEA in Burlington, and then going to this REALLY cool toy store in Stratford called Family & Friends? Friends & Family? Something like that.  So, we left at 10 am yesterday, and walked in the door @ 5 pm today.

First of all, as soon as we opened the door to the house, a fly flew in. Then I went to the front door to bring in the mail, and ANOTHER fly flew in. Were they anxiously waiting there the whole time for our return?

Then we finished hauling everything in and collapsed on the couch. Literally within 10 seconds K said, "I'm bored."

Seriously??

DH

For those of you who have been wondering, DH stands for 'dear husband.' It's something I picked up on a triplet group site -- DH, DD (dear daughter), DS (dear son). So, no, it doesn't stand for Designated Hitter, or (a popular guess) Dick Head.

Although perhaps after last night...

I was colouring my hair (YAY, no mishaps to report!) and I had taken off my shirt to avoid staining it.

So he and I were sitting in front of the TV, folding laundry, watching the show where people bid on the contents of abandoned storage containers.

I suddenly realized:

"Can you believe there was once a time where just the sight of me in my bra would've driven you wild?"

<pause>
<chuckle>
"That was a looooooong time ago."

Speaking of the bloom being off the rose (or whatever that expression is) the girls watched a show the other day where a girl cut some heat when she was on a date.

The girls didn't see what was wrong with that.

I explained:

"Well, yes, it's true that everybody does it, but people don't usually do it on the first date. Can you believe that when Pop and I started going out, we didn't fart in front of each other for a long time! I call that 'false advertising.'"

The girls then decided that you should be able to fart in front of each other on the 8th date. I think that would be good, take all the guesswork out of the equation.

But where on earth would you go for that 8th date?

Out of the mouths of babes

I have a ripping headache today. Perhaps I should sneak in and raid the stores leftover from Chocolate Camp yesterday!

Or perhaps not, since when I streaked upstairs after my shower this morning, I heard K say, "Ugh. Nobody needs to see THAT."

I just kept my mouth shut

E: "It's funny how girls aren't allowed to see boys' privates and boys aren't allowed to see girls' privates...except if it's their mummy and daddy, because they changed your diapers, so they've seen it all before. (pause) Boys' privates sure are weird-looking though."

Now that's old

We're reading Anne Of Green Gables to the girls. (It was only when we were getting it out of the library that I realized this meant I was going to have to get through reading Matthew's death out loud...)

The girls are trying to get their heads around how long ago the story took place. Like, we have to explain that no, there were no TVs, and no, there were no cars.

But then it becomes: "Mom, did you use horses and buggies when you were little?" "Did you use quills?"

So I'm trying to explain that yes, I'm old, but I'm not L.M. Montgomery old.

K attempted to put the relative age of the story into perspective:

"It's so old, cool wasn't even invented yet!"

Pardon me?

We went to a lovely wedding at a golf club in Dorchester yesterday. Through a happy coincidence, two of the people at our table are former co-workers from my Cineplex Odeon days! I love it when the universe does stuff like that.

After a really good dinner, we got into the speech portion of the evening.

The best man got up and started to tell some entertaining stories about growing up with the groom.

"And then there was this one time, when I was driving to school, and I got into an accident (which was caused by black guys)..."

I'm sorry, what?

I look around, no one seems to be reacting...

"And then the school bus went by, and Scott leaned out the window and yelled -- "

At this point I'm having a heart attack, wondering what the 'punch line' to this story is going to be.

" -- Ha ha, look at Steve's car!"

And then the evening went on as usual. No reactions, no one seemed shocked by this speech.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that I finally got a chance to lean over to my sister and say, "What was up with that story?"

"What story?"

"The one about the car accident....and the 'black guys'!"

(pause)

"Black ICE. The accident was caused by black ICE."

I'm such a goober.

40+

That's how many mosquito bites I have, after an eventful week that involved lots of sitting outside in the evening, enjoying tasty beverages with good friends.

The result, however, is that I am quite definitely losing my mind from the itching. Also, we are going to a wedding today, so I am wearing a dress with this sexy mosquito-bitten leg look. Awesome.

K says: "Don't forget to say: 'And I've got two mosquito bites on my butt.' Now THAT'S funny."

(I should live in fear of the day that she starts her own blog, shouldn't I...)

Great news, though. We were at Superstore on Thursday, and we saw the list of all the different cooking day camps that they are offering.  There was one called Chocolate World, or something, and we were reading the list of all the chocolaty things that are made at this session. All of a sudden K gasped and said, "Oh my gosh! There IS a chocolate camp!"

So now I'm a hero, because I get to make one of her 'K's Blog' wishes come true.

Maybe she has special powers like the kids in Bedtime Stories, and whatever she thinks of will magically become reality.

Now, to get her to wish for 'millionaire day camp.'

Vengeance is theirs

So, the day I was away, apparently some kid at the splash pad was bugging S.  Just wouldn't leave her alone.

And K wasn't have any of that. So she organized, and she mobilized. She and E went after the kid with all the power they could muster from their Ziploc bags full of water.

The funny part, though, is that when E was telling the story to Pop that night--at much greater length than I just did, I'm sure--K kept punctuating the story by yelling, "PAYBACK!!" every few seconds. He said she was doing a gangsta kind of fist pump move at the same time. Maybe she has an over-developed sense of vengeance, like Inigo Montoya.

Note: As a 39-year-old white woman from London, ON, I do feel silly using the word 'gangsta' in this story, but there's really no other way to describe it. And it's got a meaning all its own, doesn't it? Like, if I said she was doing a 'gangster' move, you would've pictured her in a zoot suit saying 'Yeah, see, we gave 'em some PAYBACK, see?' and it wouldn't be the same at all.

Another haiku

Hangover. Greyhound.
Public transit. Gross pigeons.
Totally worth it!

I had a fabulous evening with old friends, and now I'm having some much needed 'quiet time.'

Of course, I have no new anecdotes, so I'll pull another one from the archives for posterity:

After a particularly heated game of Candyland, S claimed victory. At which point tender, innocent, 5-year-old K sat straight up, looked her sister in the eye...and gave her the finger.

Reunion

Very excited about seeing some friends from university tonight. The gathering was organized at the last minute, and we all very spontaneously managed to work our schedules around getting to Toronto for the evening.

The only problem? I haven't had time to dye my hair (although faithful readers will know why I'm gun-shy on that one) or go on a crazy fad diet to try to lose 20 pounds.

Head-to-toe Spanx isn't really an option in this weather, and until they invent 'Ahh Underwear' and an 'Ahh Girdle' to go with the 'Ahh Bra', I think I'm SOL.

I guess I will just have to hope that the statute of limitations on "you look really good [for having had triplets]" hasn't run out.

Looking ahead

The other night S was singing a Selena Gomez song, and they started talking about how ridiculous it is that teenage girls only think about boys.

They then started making up their own songs about school, their friends, and skipping. We agreed these were much better than songs about boys.

Then K said, "When I'm a teenager, I'm not going to have a boyfriend, I'm just going to be smart." This was later amended to, "Well, I'll have a boyfriend, but I'm not going to text him all the time, and just think about him all the time, and when we go out we'll go on smart dates and talk about smart stuff."

S wasn't so sure about committing to dating smart boys, because "they all have glasses." But she did say that she wouldn't think about boys all the time, and when she does go out with a boy he will be nice and kind and funny.

E also committed to having a boyfriend who is nice and friendly and fun.

And they all decided that they won't have boyfriends until they are 18, and won't get married until they are at least 25.

I am recording this information in the hopes that this document will somehow be legally binding when they enter high school. I consider you all to be witnesses.

K's blog

K and I are sitting here, trying to think of something to write about.

K is thinking of going to day camp. She wants to go to chocolate camp, or board game camp.

Also on the list: candy camp, TV camp, video game camp, waffle camp, colouring camp, fun camp, Spongebob Squarepants camp, art camp.

Personally, I think napping camp would be fun.

K informs me that there's no such thing as that. I guess I'm just being silly.

Thanks for your help writing this blog, K. Anything you want to add?

She would also like to go to pizza camp.

The end.

And now a word from our sponsor

I knew the girls were suggestible the first time we watched 'regular' TV.

We had been sticking with PBS, TVO and Treehouse, and then when they were almost 2, we watched the Toronto Santa Claus parade on Global. No word of a lie, when the first ad for a toy came on, E turned to me and breathlessly said, "We should get that!"

And then there was the time I was in the store with K, and I reached for some detergent. She gasped and said, "You mean you don't get TIDE WITH STAIN RELEASE?!?"

But this morning's was good, because K just tried to work it into casual conversation:

"Hey mommy, did you know that this summer Best Western is really shaking things up? If you go to their website, bestwestern.com -- or something (she pulled back here, perhaps feeling that she was overplaying her hand) -- you can enter to win a trip to Hollywood to meet the cast of Shake It Up!"

And then she just strolled away, leaving that little seed to germinate in my brain.

Summertime re-run

This is an oldie but a goodie--I just need to write it down so I don't forget it.

E suddenly started rattling off these words of wisdom:

Toddlers are just half baby and half kid.
Kids are just half toddler and half teenager.
Teenagers are just half kid and half grown-up.
Grown-ups are just half teenager and half old people.

(pause)

K: And old people are half dead.


Seriously, you can't teach that kind of timing.

Evil supervillain

This morning I placed E's breakfast in front of her.

"Oh, I didn't actually want milk to drink."

"Sorry, sweetie, I already poured it..."

"Oh, I wanted the yellow bowl with the straw attached to it, remember?"

"I'm so sorry, I totally forgot!"

She didn't freak out (a la K) or burst into tears (a la S), she just started eating her breakfast.

But then she quietly muttered, in a very Darth Vader-esque way:

"You fail me again."

Soccer mom

So apparently I am much more competitive than I ever would've imagined.

Anyone who has known me since grade school or high school would probably also be shocked to learn this, because sports...how do you say? They're not my thang.

But watching S play soccer? I am completely turning into the crazy mom yelling from the sidelines. But it's all 'just for fun, let's get out there and have a good time' and I am thisclose to being all 'Don't just stand there, KICK THE @#$&*% BALL!'

Which is especially bad because a) I'm sitting next to my in-laws, and b) we're talking about 6-year-olds here.

So I may have to take myself out of the game.

Also, this issue may be genetic, because this is what K was yelling within the first 30 seconds of the game:

"Come on you can do it! I know you can do it come on! Come on kick the ball kick the ball KICK THE BALL -- OH MY GOD I'M FREAKING OUT!!!!!!"

Teach your children well

Sure it was amazing seeing their faces the first time they walked or recognized letters or went on the potty...

But nothing will compare with the looks on their faces when we said--

"So, did you catch that part when he said 'Luuuke. I am your faaather'?"

It was all just gasps and dropped jaws.

Then we mentioned that we find out in the next movie that Luke has a twin sister...

When they put two and two together, E immediately said:

"So Luke is in love with his sister?!?"

I know, right? What was George thinking with that kiss? It's still creepy, 30+ years later.

Slack. Er.

Even though the days of the week have lost all meaning to me, I chose to fully embrace the long weekend work ethic and skipped writing for a couple of days.

It's not like I was doing anything else, though. In fact, I was doing a whole lotta nothing. The girls went on an epic play date yesterday, which started at 11:30 and ended when they returned home at 7:30.

At first we were as giddy as school children--I got to go grocery shopping by myself, DH finished cleaning the garage...then we sat out in the lovely afternoon sun and drank beer and listened to music, hanging out, chatting, just like the olden days...then we listened to some more music...had another beer...

Eventually DH got up and wandered aimlessly for a minute, then returned to the patio and said "I don't know what to do with myself."

Truly, without anyone to chase around, arguments to break up, death-defying feats to abort, or general nagging to be done...we were pretty bored.

+++++++++++++++++++

In other news, DH just came in and announced that he tried to do a 'bounce the basketball between his legs' move, and...it didn't go well.

K came in, and I said "Pop just had an AFV moment, huh?"

DH walked by her and she looked at him semi-sympathetically.

Me: "It's not as funny when it happens in real life, is it..."

DH passed K then, at which point K looked at me and smiled, as if to say 'No, it was TOTALLY just as funny...'