Me: So, are you going to write a letter to Santa?
Viv: Yeah!
Me: What are you going to ask him for? (As Amand-r has no idea what to get Viv for Crimmas)
Viv: A Leapster, ballet shoes, and Piglet.
(This is a problem, as she was getting the Leapster2 for her birthday, and Mum has already got her the ballet shoes and piglet doll)
Me: What else would you like to ask for?
Viv: Hmmmm, nothing.
Me: You don't want anything else?
Viv: Mmmm, no thank you.
Me: ♥ ♥ But what if Santa calls me and says, ″Viola's been so good this year, I want to get her something else"? What else might you want?
Viv: (long-suffering sigh) Let me think about it.

″Do You Hear What I Hear?″ comes on the radio.
Viv: This isn't a Christmas song!
Me: Yes it is.
Viv: It has to say, ″Santa″.
Me: Not all Christmas songs are about Santa. Some of them are about the baby Jesus, because Christmas is his birthday.
Viv: Oh.
Me: So you have Santa songs, and baby Jesus songs.
″Let It Snow″ comes on.
Viv: Is this about baby Jesus or Santa?
Me: Uh. Santa.
″Jingle Bells″ comes on.
Viv: Is this about Santa? Or baby Jesus?
Me: I have discovered a loophole in my theory.
Viv: What?
Me: Santa.

″Carol of the Bells″ comes on.
Me: I love you.

Viv: I'll give you a John Reindeer sticker.
Me: What?
Viv: (slaps a tractor sticker on my arm) Here.
Me: That's John Deere.

Viv: Holy whack-a-moley!
Me: I think they're saying, ″Holy Guacamole″.
Viv: No they're not.
Me: Okay.
Me: (as we are discussing the Mayflower) Do you know why the Pilgrims left their home and came here?
Viv: No.
Me: (sifting through all the complicated answers and finding one she'll get) Because the people at their old home didn't like them. So they decided to go somewhere else.
Viv: Oh!
Me: Yeah, and then they came here. And...(trying to find a good answer that doesn't involve either Indian/Pilgrim love or smallpox and oppression) They got here and had a hard time, but when things got better they sat down and had a big feast to celebrate what they were thankful for.
Viv: O_o.
Me: I know. It's like, when you're thankful for something, that means you are glad that you have it. Like I am thankful for you.
Viv: Oh! Yeah!
Me: Is there anything you're thankful for?
Viv: Oranges.
Me: mean like the oranges we have at home? To eat?
Viv: Yup.
Me: Is there anything else you're thankful for?
Viv: ...the color orange.
Me: ...okay. Well, I'm thankful for YOU. Is there ANYTHING else you're thankful for?
Viv: Rainbows.
Me: Rainbows.
Viv: Yeah!
Viv: I want to be a mailman!
Me: Really?
Viv: Yeah! A MAILMAN!
Me: Well, I am sure that's a fun job.
Viv: I will deliver all the mail!
Me: Well, I hate to break it to you honey, but by the time you're old enough to be a mailman, that job might not be available anymore. Not like it is now.
Viv: Whaaaaaa?
Me: Well, see since the start of email, people just don't send as much mail, and the post office has been having money problems, and so they have to downsize and make themselves smaller so that they can stay in business.
Viv: ...
Me: I imagine that they won't ever truly disappear. Maybe they'll privatise, or something.
Viv: (holds up envelopes) I was just going to play mailman on my bike when we get home.
Me: Oh.
Viv: The valentines are for the kids, and the bills are for the people.
Me: Oh, so grown ups don't get valentines?
Viv: They're fun.
Me: I see. Well, why don't the kids get the bills?
Viv: Because they have scary things in them.
Me: This is hard to deny.
Vstroyer:Lemme see your cut again.
Me: (shows her my surgery scar on the back of my neck) Looks like a zipper, doesn't it?
Me: That's where I unzip my skin so I can take it off and send it to the dry cleaners.
Vstroyer: What?
Me:I unzip my skin and send it out to be cleaned.
Vstroyer: ...That's very nice!

Me: You're my favorite girl.
Vstroyer: Me too.
Me: You're your favorite girl?
Vstroyer: Yeah.
Me: Oh
Vstroyer:And you too.
Me: Magnanimous of you.
Vstroyer: Yeah.

It begins.

Aug. 20th, 2011 10:22 am
Her: Last night I dreamed, no no, I WISHED, for a pink horsey. And I could RIDE it.
Me: I couldn't be prouder if you'd got your period or passed all your OWLS.
Her: So yeah, we could get one.
Me:...they don't make pink horses.


Her: (looking at the new parking lot) They built a road!
Me: Well, now that the strip mall is done, they need somewhere for people to park their cars.
Her:How did they do that?
Me: Well, they know how. you could learn how to build roads and parking lots, too.
Her:Oh yeah!
Me: Yeah, when you get older if you want to, you could be a construction worker like Bob the Builder.
Her: Hrm, okay. But I don't like the hats.
Me: Well, it's important to wear the hat so you're safe.
Her:No. I'll just wear bunny ears.


Mum: So we met [some old friends from our church] at the grocery store, and they were admiring Viola, and I said something about how she looks like Tianyu, and Viola blurted out, "Mama put Daddy's body in the woods!"
Me: That's my girl.
Me: (as we drive past the overflowing funeral home) Wow, that's a big viewing. They must have been very well loved.
Viv: Is it a party?
Me: A little bit. Someone has died, and people are coming to say good bye.
Viv: Oh. Like at my birthday.
Me: Uhm, not precisely. A funeral is sad sometimes, because someone has died.
Viv: Like daddy.
Me: Yes, like daddy.
Viv: Remember on the bus, when you showed me where daddy was? (last week on the bus when we passed the cemetery, I told her that was where we put Tianyu)
Me: Yes, right.
Viv: Does he live there?
Me: Not precisely. When someone dies, their body stops moving, and we bury it.
Viv: Oh. (long pause) And then they wake up.
Me: No sweetie. The body stops working, and they kind of become a ghost.
Viv: And then they wake up.
Viv: You're silly.
Scene: fair Verona amand-r's room, 3:36 am

Me: (snore)
Viv: (entering) mumble mumble mumble
Me: snggegeeegerrgrrg--what?
Her: mumble mumble mumble bees.
Me: (sits bolt upright) THERE ARE NO BEES. (flops over. back to sleep.) Snggegeeegerrgrr....
Her: Okay...(shuffles back to bed)
Me: (snore)


Jul. 21st, 2011 11:48 am
amand_r: (HP/oppression!)
Me: (talking as I type) "That makes it more Hipster!"
Viola: No it doesn't make it more hipster!
Me: Do you know what hipsters are?
Viola: I don't know.
Me: Do you like hipsters?
Viola: I don't know what hipsters is.
Me: That's for the best
Viola: You could tell me.
Me: I don't think I could explain hipsters.
Viola: Yes you do. You could explain it to me. You always explain it to me.
Me: Uhm, hipsters are young people who wear skinny jeans and scarves and ugly sunglasses.
Viola: Oh. Haaahahahaha. No, I don't like that.
Me: Well said.
Viola: I'm going to sing the pie song now.


Jul. 19th, 2011 07:17 pm
C, Viola's BFF has been in a bad mood all day. They're outside riding bikes, and then I look up and see her mom coming up the walk with one of Viola's bikes.

I live in fear that someday I will be told, "Viola is a horrible kid and I don't want C playing with her anymore." But instead, apparently, C has apparently crossed that last line and talked back to her mum. I hear her inside her house having the mother of all temper tantrums. Her mum rolls her eyes and we commiserate on the tribulations of strong-willed children. Then she goes back to her house and we hear Hurricane C unleashing the banshee wails of madness.

Viola: Woah, that is some serious crying.
Viola: Yeah, SERIOUS crying.
Me: You know what I would do if you had a temper tantrum like that?
Viola: Paddle the backside?
Me: Bingo. It's called, 'giving you something to cry about'.
Viola: No thank you.
Me: You're adorable.
Viola: Yeah, a little bit.
Me: So, what are you going to name that dragon?
Her: How to train your dragon.
Me: Like two words? First name "Howtotrainyour" last name "Dragon"?
Her:No, like one word.
Me: His name is Howtotrainyourdragon the dragon?
Her: No, I think two words.
Me: Solid choice.
Her: Yeah.

If you want, you can meme my kid. Ask her any question you like, and I'll relay the message.

Oh, Viola.

Jul. 2nd, 2011 05:46 pm
her: I want a drink.
me: When we get home we’ll have some lemonade.
her: Yeah!
me: And we’ll chillax for a while.
her: Yeah.
me: Do something low key and relaxing.
her: I know! We can do math!

Tianyu used to say "Math is a special kind of love God gives to Asian children," which is funny because he was an atheist.

me: (discussing the kinds of fireworks we should buy) Should we get snakes?
her: YEAH!
me: How about sparklers?
her: Sure!
me: And snaps?
her: What are snaps?
me: Little paper balls you throw on the ground and they go, "OH SNAP."
her: Yeah that's awesome.
me: Should we get worms?
her: Nooooooo.
me: Should we get a buttfor?
her: No.
me: You're supposed to ask me, "what's a buttfor?" and then I'm supposed to say, "for pooping!"
her: I don't want to do that.
me: Fair enough.
me: (sings the waffle song)
her: I like waffles
me: Yeah?
her: I like all kinds of foods!
me: Do you like worms?
her: Ewwwwww.
me: I bet you’d eat worms.
her: No.
me: I bet you’d eat gummi worms.
her: We should get some.
me: I dunno. They’re bad for your teeth. Then they’d fall out, and when I took you to the dentist he’d say, "where are all her teeth?" and I’d say, "I am sorry. There were gummi worms." and he’d say, "why did you let her eat those?" and I’d say, "obviously, you have never been a parent."
her: I’m coloring.

me: (sings the waffle song)
her: I said I like waffles.
me: Sorry, I have a song stuck in my head and I can’t get it out.
her: I’ll get it out for you.
me: Yeah? How would you do that?
her: I’ll get a knife.
kid: i had a dream last night!
me: was that before or after you woke me up and scared the shit out of me by telling me there was someone downstairs who turned out to be the cat?
kid: don't say that word.
me: right.
kid: i dreamed [something complicated and to which i am not privy before coffee. like charlie brown's teacher]
me: uh huh
kid: but we don't have a daddy because he's dead.
me: right
kid: and he's not coming back.
me: nope. but you have an awesome mommy.
kid: yeah!
me: who's your awesome mommy?
me: (headdesk)
amand_r: (doctor who/HARRIET JONES)
1. Guess what you can't wipe up with a Clorox wet nap? Baking Soda. Nope, if spills on the floor and you go to wipe it up, but you just end up pushing it around on the lino. Then when you give up and try to scoop as much of it as you can see, you realize you have just thinned it to an invisible coating of baking soda. And then for days when you step in that area in your socks, you get a squidgy feeling as you slide around in it. Then you realize that you put this in your body: A POWDER THAT CANNOT BE DISSOLVED AND PICKED UP BY THE LIQUID IN A CHLOROX WIPE. (Spider has since informed me that I can clean it with vinegar. Thanks, babe.)

2. Squeezing lemons when your hands are chapped to the point of cracking is not the smartest idea in the universe, lightbulb. However, if you put your fingers in baggies and put a rubber band at the base of each finger, you get to race the clock to see if the pain from cracked skin or the pain from listing feeling in the fingers will make you stop first.


3. Me: Viv, are you done pooping?
Her: No. I got to chillax.
Me: What?
Her: Just chillax, mama.

4. I drove behind a Bronco II that had this on a paper taped to the back windshield: I WILLNOT SPEED JUST TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. I SLOW DOWN FOR TAILGATERS.

5. I have many thoughts on Rhianna's S&M. Some of them are not good. Most of them are nonchalant, which as we all know, is the opposite of chalant. Not to be confused with chalet, or Swiss Chalet, which makes me think of Swiss steak, which makes me want steak. Or those onions that come on top of steak sometimes. When you make a bowl of sautéed onions and mushrooms to put on steak and meats, that's called the kitty. I eat the kitty on fried sweetbreads. Now I want to watch Josie and the Pussycats. Dujour means swiss steak!

amand_r: (having a kid=scary)
Me: Awww, sometimes I want another baby.
Mum: You should have one.
Me: O_o?
Mum: No seriously, you're not working, Viola is at a great age, and babies aren't that expensive.
Me: O_o? (Ignoring the whole 'where would I get the sperm?" issue.)
Mum: You already have all the stuff.
Mum: You should know that this is probably the Tramadol talking.
Me: Yeah. Figured.
As I get dressed.

V-Stroyer:I like your shirt.
Me: Thanks.
Her: I like your bra.
Me: Thank you. I am sure when you get older you will have many of your own.
Her: I like your butt.
Me: Okay, uhm, thank you?
Her: I like the washcloth.
Me: Ah, less disturbing territory, yes, me too.
Her: I'm pooping.
Me: I can tell.
amand_r: (having a kid=scary)
There's no way to describe it to non-parents, but when you're rocking your sick kid at 2 am, and she sits back in your lap to tell you something and promptly vomits all over you and herself, all the "ewwwww" that you get when contemplating the scenario as a childfree person sort of disappears in a zenlike series of actions. It's true isn't it? You just get them to the bathroom as quickly as possible, strip and wash, and reclothe. There isn't any time to stop and think, "Oh god that's disgusting."

Now that it's over, oh god, it smelled like rotten cheese.

Earlier in a day in the life of a kidlet:

Me: Are you wet?
Kidlet: No.
Me: Are you dry?
Kidlet: No.
Me: It seems we have a case of Schrodinger's pull-up.
Kidlet: (gravely) Yes.

Me: (showing her the letter G) What's this?
Kidlet: G.
Me: What starts with G?
Kidlet: …?
Me: Are you a baby?
Kidlet: No.
Me: Are you a little boy?
Kidlet: No.
Me: Right! You are a little…?
Kidlet: (thinks) Camel.
Me: Uhm. Okay.

Okay, so [ profile] sivatheminty sent me this vid in an email back in February, with the title, "Ode to Duncan", and if you are a HL fan you'll get why, but omg I laughed so hard, especially when I got to "lol @ dude on fire".

amand_r: (waaaaaaaa)
amand_r: (the asian persuasion)
[ profile] arsenicjade is here for Chinese New Year! Ordinarily I would be up to my elbows in dough right now!

Mother nature has other plans [insert bad rimming joke here]. )
amand_r: (the server is robust)
1. Sometimes when your kid is doing an overnighter at her grandparents, you go to bed at 3 and wake up at 2:43. And then IT IS TIME FOR BIB FORTUNA.

2. So I dredged up some old issues that I have with fandom last night and they made me depressed and worried. Why do I do that to myself? Bah.

3. Then I had a dream that I was trying some of my old CDs or something, and someone told me that what I was doing wouldn't preserve them, and I scoffed at them, and then I ended breaking them, and I should have fit them back together, but they had cooled like bent shrinkydinks in addition to being broken. I cannot help but worry that my brain is telling me something about what dredges up number 2. Hrm.

4. Hair: cut thyself. Accio haircut. Hrm.

5. Snow. Uh huh.

6. So a lot of you read the RPF yesterday, and a lot of you commented, which is awesome. There was some general…amusement and also wondering what the subjects themselves thought (and genuine concern that they were aware of this). So I'll inform the worried that yes, they saw it before you did, in a locked post right below yours, in which we had a discussion about what it was like. I have been told that I can share what they had to say (edited to cut certain things that are too personal for you. sorry! :P)

Nick, Amanda and Carolyn have thinky thoughts. )

Jeffrey Jones: ...Well. There you have it.

*Emperoresque flounce*


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