Catie-ism's

Well I can't write much.  My ribs are still keeping me in check.  Was thinking how much I love Catie's expressions.  Over the years she has come out with some unconscious witticism that have now become part of family vocabulary.

Top favourites.

On describing the food at prom;  It tasted like, "2am seemed like a good idea at the time", food.

 Frustrated with her brother for not making a decision:  "Pick up your mind!"

Responding to her Dad's complaint on her tardiness, "You Smith women.  You're always late.  You will probably be late for your own funeral."

Catie:  You wanted us early?
Another time, "I thought that was the point of living healthy Dad?"

"So Dad, how dark is that cave you've lived in all your life?"

In response to her brother teasing her about being chubby which is a total stretch.  "Um Breyan, Look at Dad and Look at Mum.  Now see how much you look like Dad?  See how much I look like Mum.  If I was you, I'd start a strict regime of exercise now."

"Mum, back away from the girl guide cookies.  I know you're upset but we can talk about this.  Making your heart explode from the slabs o' fat will not help anyone."

When she didn't want to throw out her outgrown clothes at seven, "Well if I keep them til I'm a little old lady like you, I'll shrink back to that size and they'll probably be in style again."

(On my tendency to give fashion advice.)  "Don't stand still around my mom.  She'll redecorate you."   

I think my kids are trying to kill me.

_{*a excerpt from a letter to Jim from 1997}

I think my kids are trying to kill me.  I swear, there must be a plot.  They are punishing me for sneaking away to write you a letter when they both feel they should have my undivided 100% attention.  Both kids are home today from school.  They’ve come down with a nasty flu.  They’ve been home for three days.  They are throwing up, have fevers but being my kids that doesn’t mean they are lying groaning in their beds. They aren’t exhausted, I am.

You are just going to have to excuse the spelling and grammar in this letter.  I’ve had a total of six hours sleep in the last three days.  

Is it child abuse to want to offer Charles Manson the chance to babysit just so I can have five minutes in the shower?

Why is it the only thing siblings will happily share with each other are cold bugs and lice?  They didn’t get sick at the same time of course.  First Breyan got it and then he shared with his sister.  You can’t blame me for wondering if they have an “illness” baton and they are playing relay.

  Breyan woke me up a couple of nights ago with, “Mummy, I puked in my bed.  Can I have some more grape juice?” Caitlin came down with it yesterday.

The Mountain Man is useless when the kids get sick.  I’m not saying he doesn’t help I’m just saying I can’t ask him to clean anything up because he sees one kid barf and next thing I know---he’s on his knees right beside them. And Goddess Forbid they should bleed!!!  How is it a man that can hunt Bambi’s, try to pry the door off a burning truck with his bare hands to save someone in an accident and can bench press 375lbs will turn into a statue of a deer in the headlights when he sees a drop of the kids blood?  He’s tried to explain that it’s because it’s our blood but I just don’t get it.

So I’ve now got two kids parked in the living room in front of the Nintendo whatever and I’ve stolen away to the dining room for a cup of tea where I can hear them if they need me.  So why do I think they are trying to kill me?  Because these are some of the comments coming out of the living room;

Caitlin:  Bet you I can puke farther than you can.

Breyan:  No you can’t, put the bucket back there and I’ll prove it.

Caitlin:  You’re cheating.

Breyan:  I’m not, I’m just better than you.  Ow!!! What was that for?

Caitlin:  Now you’ll have to play with one hand.  That should even the odds.

Caitlin:  Why do I have a little bird and you have a big one?

Breyan:  (sigh) First of all Caitlin, they are not little birds.  They are Chocobo’s.  They grow through the game.

Caitlin:  They look like baby chickens.

Breyan:  No, baby chickens are fuzzy little yellow birds that grow up to be chicken nuggets.

Caitlin:  If you don’t stop cheating I’m gonna make sure you never hear from that girl you like again!

Breyan:  (sarcastically) You can’t stop my friends from talking to me Caitlin. 

Caitlin:  Yes I can!  When they call, I’ll just tell them you’re dead.

Breyan:  What colour’s your snot?

Man, my kids are weird!!  If I survive this I promise to write more.  As it is I may just need it for proof of sanity when the men with the little white jackets show up.

Kimberley

The Danger of Dating My Daughter

*from a letter to Katie January 2007

[You need to know that we live in a split level house.  When you come in the front door, you go up six steps to the dining room/kitchen, another six steps to the living room, six more to our bedroom and another six to the kids room and bathroom.  This also explains how I keep my weight down,]

Now even I have to admit that Hubby is a tad overprotective of his daughter.  I’m the one that has to argue with him every time we go to a weapons store that he cannot buy his daughter a tazer.

He’s scared so many boys off that there is one I only know from the MySpace pictures. 

You have to give Keagan props for braving the gauntlet he ran to have his [now, five year relationship] with the Mountain Man’s daughter.  He’s been patient, brave and I am thankful she has someone like him. He has no problem when Hubby orders them to leave the door open.  He makes sure she calls when they are going to be late and he never had a problem when early in their relationship he was threatened life and limb with a selection of weapons if he hurt our daughter.

Since Hubby feels more comfortable with Keagan sleeping over in the house when he knows that Keagan will have to get past our room and we have really squeaky floors; some mornings we will find Keagan asleep on our uncomfortable couch.

I’m sure Caitlin tried to prepare Keagan for life in our nuthouse but I don’t think anything could have prepared him for last night.

So it starts with the fact that Mountain Man made chili for dinner.  Being a courteous hubby he leaves the room to drop a gas bomb.  He also sleeps in the buff.

You see where this is going?

Middle of the night and Hubby jumps out of bed, hops outside, aims away from the bedroom door and lets it rip.

He was almost back to bed when we hear from the living room, “Oh My God!!  What the hell is that?”

Did you know men can blush with their whole bodies? 

The Mountain Man's Labour

Dear Gramma;

Sarah is having Braxton Hicks today.  I called her and I agree with her it probably is, she's had this problem in her other pregnancy's and she pinched the nerve in her back yesterday.  Even if it is, she's only four weeks early which today is almost routine.

Everyone on Facebook is telling her to get checked out anyway.  I was concerned enough when I saw it that I wrote, "Get Your Butt to the Doctors or I'm gonna ask Dad to go over and check you himself!!!"

Then I called her and calmed down.

Then I thought of the ultra panicked look on the Mountain Man's face if I really did ask him?!!!!  OMG I'm laughing so hard I feel like I'm going into labour!!!!  hee hee hee

I told her she could relieve the pain in her back by lying down on the floor and puttting her feet on the coffee table.   Remember when I had to do throughout my pregnancy because Breyan kept sitting on the nerve in my back? 

Remember the Sarcasm King, the one man I know whom Nothing makes him panic?  He used my belly as his coffee table!!.  I could have killed him!

Breyan got his revenge one day by kicking so hard, hot coffee went all over his uncle's lap.
What goes around comes around, snorkle!!!

I will update if there is any news.

Big Hugs