A ReBlogcast at My Sister's Request

 My sister has numerous favorite stories of the girl's shenanigans and she thought it a good idea to share, so here are two short ones to make her stop asking :-)! 

 Story 1: The girls were sick and taking medicine.  Kylie takes medicine like a pro!  There is no fussing, no beating around the bush - she just swallows it and is done.  Kennedi, on the other hand, will hold the medicine, play with the cup, and make every excuse under the sun to not complete the task at hand.  This particular day, she had been holding on to her cup of medicine for FAR too long.  It was time for Mama Deux to take action.  I went and placed my body in front of the television to block "The Wonder Pets".  I informed Kennedi that I would turn off the television if she didn't take her medicine.  Kennedi promptly jumped down from her seat, stepped around me, turned off the television, stepped BACK around me and then stared me in the eye, holding the cup of unfinished medicine.  The look said it all.  In fact, the only thing missing was her saying, "What deux YOU have to say now?"

Story 2: Due to fish being ranked as one of the top 8 allergic foods, pediatricians and publications often used to warn against giving fish to children under the age of 1.  Our two have voracious appetites and have been eating table food since before their first birthday.  Baby food did nothing for them. This one particular day, hubby and I were having fish for dinner.  Kylie kept trying to reach on my plate for a piece of the fish.  I would take her hand, move it, and tell her no.  This went on for several more failed attempts. Daddy launches into this explanation (though as I think back, I'm not sure of who it was for) as to why Kylie couldn't have a piece of fish.  In the midst of this explanation, Kennedi reaches on my plate, grabs the fish and shoves it in her sister's mouth. So much for whatever we were saying.  What my twin wants, my twin will get! 

Kylie's Psychic Network.....Coming Soon

Pushing buttons as usual

Note: The shenanigans you are about to read were relayed to me by my husband.  I can't verify that they did or did not take place but knowing the deux, I would venture to say that it happened just like this....


Kennedi has mastered the knack of pushing her sister Kylie's buttons. She knows exactly what to do to send her into either a crying fit or a knock down, drag out rage.  Kennedi usually walks away with a sinister grin on her face and leaves her twin either crying to mommy, laying out on the floor crying, or whining and pouting with her precious little arms folded tightly across her chest.

Hubby had just come home with the girls and Kennedi attempted to remove her shoe without sitting down.  This sent her tumbling into her sister.  Kylie turns and starts yelling, "STOP PUSHING ME!"  Well Kennedi, not up to her usual, tries to explain that it was an accident.  Kylie was NOT having it.  She continues in her sister's face, waving her hand spread out showing all fingers, "No it wasn't, you pushed me FIVE times next week!"  Hubby chuckles and tries to correct her.  He gently tells her, "Kylie, you mean she pushed you LAST week."  Still in full rage, Kylie insists, "NO SHE PUSHED ME FIVE TIMES NEXT WEEK!"  This continues a few more times until hubby finally realizes he would probably be more successful helping Kylie start her own psychic network.  After all, she clearly knows that her pesky sister is going to push her five times next week!

Rain Rain Go Away

It's been raining for two days now, TWO WHOLE DAYS! We are all miserable, me because it makes my knee ache and the deux because they believe that EVERY day should include a trip somewhere. 

While laying in the bed, knee elevated, I keep hearing this tune.  It sounds somewhat familiar, but not quite.  I listen harder and am quickly whisked back to my childhood UNTIL I hear this verse belted out by none other than Kennedi: "Rain, rain go away because the dogs and cats want to play. Oh, and me too!"

Look for this remake on iTunes coming soon! :-)

The Deux Reflect on Growing Up

Remember when you were little and couldn't wait to grow up? Being older seemed to offer so much promise!  Well, this weekend provided a contrast in opinions by four little girls, none over the age of 10.  It started off when I took my cousins, ages 8 and 10, to get their hair done.  I was rattling off the birthday months of the four children in their family when Casey says that she doesn't like being the youngest.  Her older sister and the third born tells her, "What, are you kidding? I loved being the youngest.  You just don't have enough experience yet." Needless to say, I could have crashed my car laughing.  They continued on,  debating who is spoiled by whom and the perks of being the youngest.  Taylor, then adds, "Getting older is overrated.  I wish I could go back to when I was the youngest." (I don't think her younger sister caught the innuendo.)  I must say that I was shocked to hear a 10 year old NOT wanting to be grown!

We came back to my house and my deux are eating breakfast, still in their pajamas.  When I start combing their hair, Kennedi begins her daily routine of 21 questions.. She wants to know if she will be able to do her own hair when she grows up, wash her hair and picking out her own clothes? Of course, my answer is affirmative to which she starts yelling, "Kylie, when we get older we can do our OWN hair!" The cheers begin and I assure them that I cannot wait for them to be able to do their own hair. Kennedi turns to me, with the most serious look on her face and says, "Well, I can't wait more than you!" I almost opened my mouth, but fortunately I was too sleepy and I just let it ride.  I too remember wanting to do everything myself and oh what I wouldn't give to be the age of the deux or even Casey or Taylor again...

Deux You Know the Name of Our Country?

Our house is decorated for Easter - complete with bunnies, ribbons, eggs, and pinwheels.  It's the only decorated house on our block and the girls often look for other decorated houses as we take rides through neighborhoods where we've seen Valentine and Christmas decorations in the past.  On our trip to the doctor's office today, the girls carefully manned the windows, shouting out with excitement when decorations were spotted.

We passed one particular house that had an Easter flag blowing from the flagpole on the front porch.  This sighting sparked a new search - the search for flags.  Much to their excitement, they spotted a few more and as we approached the hospital, Kennedi spots the huge American Flag prominently blowing from the flagpole on top of the hospital. Kennedi:"Daddy, daddy, look at the big flag!" We both acknowledge the flag and daddy decides to ask, "What country is that flag for, Kennedi?" To this, Kennedi promptly replied, "Obama".  I'm not quite sure if we actually corrected her because we've been laughing ever since!

The Rhyming (Mis)Adventure

Before I begin with my chronicle, I would like to share that Kennedi tied her shoe for the first time today!!! Now, back to our regularly scheduled shenanigans. While riding in the car, the girls are rattling off words trying to rhyme.  Sometimes they get the concept of rhyming and other times, not so much.  This outing was one of those “not so much” times for sure. 

 

Kylie asks, “Car, cap rhymes, right mommy?” I remind them that rhyming words have the same ending sound and not necessarily the same first letter.  I am about to give an example when Kennedi says, “Tape, glue, how about that?” In my mind, I’m thinking WTH, but I gently tell her no and provide her with the example of tape and cape.  I continue on as mommies will do and emphasize the end sounds, ever so carefully, pointing out the rhyme.  After all of my elaborate pontificating, Kennedi says, “Well tape and glue should rhyme. “ “They’re both sticky, right?” Tickled, I continued to explain that while that is a great observation, it doesn’t make them rhyme.  I know you are probably thinking that I left the rhyming lesson alone at this point, but you would be sadly mistaken. After all, I’m a mommy and it’s my job to explain the hell out of everything, right?

We pull into the gas station, and before I get out to fill up my gas guzzler, I tell them to listen again; to listen to the end of the words I’m about to say - GAS, PASS.  Kylie and Kennedi  simultaneously start  squealing.  In the almost inaudible chaos I hear phrases such as, Ewwww! Did you say pass gas? That’s disgusting! I didn’t pass gas, did you pass gas? For a brief moment, I contemplated explaining that I had NOT said pass gas, but for once, I restrained by pontificating tendencies,  got out of the car and pumped my $80 worth of gas while they continued to squeal and laugh at mommy. It was quite the rhyming (mis)adventure. What was I thinking?

I Really Deux Know Better!

My trip to any store with the dynamic deux usually results in someone stopping us and asking at least one of the following questions:
      Are they twins?
      Do twins run in your family?
      Can you tell them apart?
      Which one is the bad twin?
Being asked questions at the store is so guaranteed to the point that I never plan on quick trips to the store anymore.  As the girls have aged, they have warmed up to the store inquisitions and will actually answer the questions instead of giving people the “why are you talking to me” look.

Well, our most recent excursion resulted in a question that we don't often hear; who is the oldest? I know the answer and the girls do too.  This particular day, however, I was either tired or was possessed by the spirit of my husband who insists that the youngest twin is the oldest.  For the record, Kylie was born first and Kennedi second…a whole minute apart!  The woman in front of us in line asked if they were twins and then who was oldest?  Kylie responded that she was and I corrected her, telling her that she KNEW Kennedi was the oldest. They both gave me a strange look but that was the end of it, or so I thought.

Later in the day, we are riding in the car and Kylie asks, “Mommy, I thought you said I would always be the oldest?”  I told her that she was correct.  Kennedi then chimed in,”But mommy, you told the lady that I the oldest so I da oldest today right?”  At that moment, the conversation in the store came flooding back and I realized the error!  I explained to Kennedi that I was wrong and that Kylie was the oldest and would always be the oldest.  She went on to ask, “But why mommy cuz I want to be the oldest!?!”  I tried to explain that Kylie was born first.  Kennedi responded by letting me know how tired she was of being born and that it wasn’t fair that only babies were born.  AND THEN THE FIGHT STARTED!

Kennedi: “You know what Kylie, you are the oldest born baby ever!” Kylie: “MOMMY!” Kennedi: “And my Minnie is going to have a birthday and be 1 minute older than your Mickey, no wait 1 MONTH older than your Minnie!” Kylie, “Humph!” For the last dig, the nail in the proverbial coffin, Kennedi added at the very top of her lungs,"AND MY MINNIE IS ALWAYS GOING TO BE THE OLDEST! " Note to self: Never, EVER make that mistake again!  

WTDKWGTG....Deux You Understand??

We had quite a nerve-racking experience at the doctor’s office today…sorry, I was being French – I had quite a nerve-racking experience. Their doctor has two offices but we normally visit the same location.  In fact, I believe they may have been two years old the last time we visited the other location. The girls knew they were going to the doctor but were confused when I pulled into the lot of the second location.  Immediately the questions started – Do they have toys and a TV? Are there two doors – one with Mickey and one with Minnie? Do they give suckers?  Clearly, these are the questions one should consider when selecting a doctor and a location. 

The visit didn’t start off well.  The buttons to the elevator were too high for the girls to reach, there was only 1 toy in the office, 1 door, and you guessed it, no Mickey or Minnie on that one door.  They did, however, promptly call us back to a room and surely that must be a good sign, right? Well, as we waited, and waited, and then waited some more, my well behaved deux became a little restless and that’s when 20 questions started, with every other question being how long the doctor was going to take. 

Drinking and Sleeping

I desperately start searching my bag of tricks for something to get their minds off of questioning me.  I handed each of them a pen and a miniature notebook. Kennedi immediately sits next to me and starts sounding out words. “Wa – wa- wa-where…that starts with w, right mommy?” I tell her yes, and she writes down the w. She writes down the letter d and then asks,  “ Ga-ga-ga gots, what letter does gots start with?” I tell her it’s the letter g but there’s no s on the end.  She tells me that she doesn’t know how to write one, so I right the letter g for her.  She then asks, “ Does go start with g too?”  I tell her yes as I glance at her paper. WTDKWGTG  Kennedi looks at me and asks, “DO you know what it says?”  She reads, “Where is the doctor kuz we gots to go.” She then corrects herself and says, “No, what letter does have start with?”  I tell her h, she makes her correction, and continues to read her note for at least the next five minutes, “Where is the doctor kuz we have to go!” Did I mention that we waited 45 minutes to be seen? Yes, I think I was right to be French, we had quite a nerve-racking experience. I think next time, we'll go back to the office with the TV, toys and two doors - one with Mickey and one with Minnie.

Daddy, I'm Not a Prospector!

After yesterday's great bacon interrogation, the girls tell me that they don't have homework but have to bring a rock to school tomorrow - not too big and not too small. Of course this is after we have walked home past plenty of rocks - four blocks of rocks, to be exact.  Well, I had to work last night and still had plenty to do to get ready, so I gave daddy the rock finding duty.

Daddy informs me that while out searching for rocks, the girls had a difficult time choosing.  In an effort to help the girls with their rock selection, he points out a rock that resembles a nugget.  Daddy, thinking they will be excited says, "Look Kylie, this one looks like a nugget."  Kylie promptly informs Daddy that she's not looking for gold, she's looking for rocks! Kylie emphasized, " My teacher told us to bring a rock, not too big and not too small - NOT a gold nugget!" What was daddy thinking and who the heck has been teaching them about prospecting? SMH

The Bacon Sleuths Strike Again

My girls LOVE bacon! As well behaved as they are, I honestly believe that they would fight you over a piece of bacon.  I used to try to give them one slice but they quickly established the routine of begging for more, staring you down, staring your bacon down, or even swiping a piece off the counter.  They have favorite kinds of bacon and will promptly tell you which kind they want. So they were upgraded to two pieces and now I only serve it on the weekends in a effort to limit their intake.

Tonight, I teach until late and usually if I skip breakfast, I will wind up starving by the time class is over.  In an effort to choose what to eat, I weighed my options.  Bacon crossed my mind, but I knew there would be a price to pay.  I tried to come up with other options but decided that if I had pizza waiting for them, I would be okay, right? WRONG. 

I picked the girls up from school, we walked in the door, and Kylie immediately asks, "What do I smell?"  Kennedi whips around and gives me the side eye while inquiring, "Do I smell bacon?" Well, my first thought was that I will not be questioned and bullied by these two bacon sleuths. My second thought? Pizza is NOT going to be a substitute. So I explain that I did have bacon for breakfast while they were at school and no, I had not saved any for them.  Kylie then asked, "Did you forget it's nice to share?" They walked up to me, jackets and book bags still on and almost simultaneously asked, "Can we have some bacon for lunch, PLEASE?"

Yes, you guessed it, pizza and bacon for lunch. I knew how this would end when I started cooking that beloved bacon. Maybe someone will invent an odorless bacon one day and that will be the day that I can have my bacon without being busted by the bacon sleuths.

Teaching Gratitude

I little while back, I became concerned that my girls were becoming a bit bratty and if there is one thing that gets on my nerves, it's spoiled, bratty children.  They had started expecting to go somewhere everyday and it seemed like they were expecting to be bought everything that they saw.  Even worse, my answer of no was bringing out pouted lips and whining.  So I did what a  mommy does best, I started to lecture.  I explained that they needed to practice being grateful and that some children didn't have what they had, how they were fortunate to have bikes and cars, have traveled and yada yada yada, ad infinitum. I pontificated on the difference between need and want and the importance of saying thank you when someone gives them something, being grateful, and expressing gratitude.

Well, on my wild woman search for Taco Flavored Doritos (don't ask, it's another story but if you've had them, you understand), I had to go to Kmart because rumor had it that the treasure could be found there.  Seemed like a simple enough task except for the one crucial detail that I forgot.  CHUCK E CHEESE is right next to Kmart!  You can imagine the girl's excitement when I pulled into the lot, parked the car, and told them to take off their seat belts! So we finally make it into Kmart and the campers aren't happy.  I think the fear of another speech kept them from asking for anything and we almost covered the entire store because mommy doesn't shop at Kmart, doesn't know the store layout, and was being male by refusing to ask for directions!

We leave the store empty handed and in the vestibule are these gumball/toy machines.  The girls LOVE these machines.  They look at me, I look at them, and I reach in my pocket to hand them a quarter.  Kylie wraps her arms around me and gives me a huge thank you.  Kennedi thanks me as well, but with much less excitement.  They get their quarter toys and as we exit the doors, Kennedi says: "I was practicing being grateful, right mommy?"  I tell her that she was and to that she replies, "Good, now I can go to Chuck E Cheese!"   Needless to say, teaching gratitude continues.....

WHERE Are My Barrettes??

The WHOLE story. Kylie and Kennedi love playing barber shop (I guess because I don't get my hair done, they don't quite grasp the beauty shop concept).  They put on capes, pull out brushes, bows, the works! Now that I think of it as I'm typing this, you don't see any of these things at a barber shop, but I digress. The interesting and fortunate thing is that they RARELY play in my hair. I think it's not fun to them because since I have locs, they can't brush or comb it but just put stuff in them.  I HAVE gone to teach with a neon green barrette hidden in the back of my locs from days earlier, but most of the time I escape.

Thursday, Daddy comes home from work and he's not feeling well.  He has bad allergy and sinus issues and doesn't take medication.  He's sitting in the chair, Breathe Right strip across his nose, eyes red as the dickens, just being tortured as the girls simultaneously play barber shop. Daddy is very dark skinned and don't forget, his eyes are red right now.  They coif his do with bright orange scrunchies and barrettes.  He's quite the site and of course I am laughing hysterically as he suggests that they do mommy's hair.  I even have a picture because the girls insisted on taking a picture of their work.<insert sinister laugh here>  They even made him say cheese, which I thought was appropriate for the color of his hair decorations!Bwahhh!  The thing about the picture though, is that he has threatened me about putting it up. Stay tuned though, I will broach the subject again with him and maybe he will threaten me with something good like a divorce and THEN I'll POST IT! Just Kidding, but I am going to try to get it posted.  Let's fast forward to Friday.

Daddy leaves for work before the girls are awake.  When he comes in from work Friday evening, I can here Kylie yelling at the top of her lungs, "WHERE ARE MY BARRETTES????" He explained to her that everyone would have laughed at him at work (He works in a factory but quite frankly, he would have been the laughing stock at any locale). She promptly exclaims, "UH UHNNN, NO THEY WOULDN'T CUZ YOU LOOKED PERFECT!" Thankfully, she didn't threaten to never do his hair again. :-)

The "When You Were a Little Girl" Saga Continues....

How come they never ask me these questions when they are riding a bike, rollerskating, or hula hooping? AND who thought it was a good idea for them not to have school today? So somebody decided that Cat in the Hat was not good enough in books and decided to make it a TV show.  This show and quite frankly almost every show that they watch, except Sesame Street, sparks the SAME ANNOYING QUESTION.  Kylie: "Mommy, did you watch Cat in the Hat when you were a little girl?" Silly me, I thought I would get some "kid cred" since Cat in the Hat at least existed when I was little unlike Dora, the Backyardigans, and the like. WRONG. Me: "Well, it wasn't on TV but I read Dr. Seuss Cat in the Hat books when I was little." "In fact, one of my favorites was Green Eggs and Ham." Kylie: "Did you watch ANYTHING when you were a little girl?" (Grumbling, I should fix them, turn off this t.v. and pull the book out of their closet...but then I wouldn't be able to post this blog would I? RATS)

Do NOT Put Me in Bed...

The dynamic deux are night owls! There's no school today and honestly, I was a bit distracted playing with this blog.  About 11 p.m. Kylie looks over at me and says, "I am going to take a little nap but DO NOT put me in bed, okay?" ROFL