They Deux Tickle My Funny Bone!

Not a day goes by where at some point the girls do or say something to tickle my funny bone.  Sometimes, they will say little things that will make me chuckle like asking if we are going to the "piggy bank" when I say we are going to Chase.  Other time they will say things that make me pause and wonder where in the world they came from!?!

Today was one of those times.  We were in the back yard, watering our garden and hosing down their house and jeep. Kylie goes and sits down in a chair off to the side and seems to have a pensive look on her face.  I asked her if she was okay and although she said she was fine, I got the feeling that something might be bothering her.  I put the hose down, walk over to her chair and engage her by asking her name.  Kylie responds, "I'm the new girl."  I ask her, "Do you have a name?" Kylie looks at me and begins her story. "I am a new girl from Africa." "I just got off the airplane so nobody knows my name yet, okay?"

As I'm standing there wondering where in the world this was coming from, she yells across the yard and calls her sister.  Foolishly thinking I would trip her up, I say, "New girl, how do you know Kennedi's name if you just got off a plane from Africa?"  I'm standing there grinning because I've got her now.  "Kennedi, that is your name right?" "That's what I heard that man over there (pointing at daddy) call you right?" "I'm a new girl from Africa and I just got off the airplane." "My name is Kylie, okay?"  She then looks up at me and grins, leaving me shaking my head, funny bone tickled, and wondering, WHERE DID THAT/SHE COME FROM???

The Deux Turned Five!

I can hardly believe it.  It seems like just yesterday, the Deux were born.  A resident had accidentally told me that I would be released from the hospital.  It was perfect timing.  Their dad was finally moving here from New York and his flight was due in that afternoon. Then the doctor entered my room to set the record straight and burst my bubble.  I would not be going home but would need to deliver the Deux that day at a little over 34 weeks.  Thank goodness for whoever that was that required emergency surgery, pushing my delivery back by several hours, allowing daddy to be present at their arrival. My world has never been the same.

The Deux have had birthday palozza this past week.  We started with a party at Jump! Zone on Sunday with 15 of their friends and our family members.  They even had two children crash their party! The party crashers came baring gifts too. I'm telling you, the Deux are rock stars!  Now, I have to admit, having a party on the Sunday before their actual birthday did confuse them a bit, but all was made right by the second party at school on the actual day. 

Of course, their actual birthday, started off no different than any other day.  I woke them up with birthday kisses and made a huge deal of the fact that they were now a whole hand (5)!  Every chance I could work in, I made them tell me how old they were.  Then the disagreement started.  (Insert nanny, na, na, na, na voice) Kylie exclaims that she turned five first because she's the oldest.  Kennedi furrows her brow, turns to Kylie and proclaims, "NO YOU AREN'T!" She continues, "Mommy is the oldest cause she's WAY older than you!"  Wow, Kennedi pulled off a twofer - she put her sister in her place and insulted momma at the same time! The shenanigans continue.....

Mama Deux: What Was HE Thinking??

Mama Deux: What Was HE Thinking??: "At the risk of alienating the Deux's strong male following, I MUST tell this story. First, let me give you some background info - a little..."

What Was HE Thinking??

At the risk of alienating the Deux's strong male following, I MUST tell this story.  First, let me give you some background info - a little family dynamics.  I have an older brother and sister.  We often, for whatever reason, are compelled to fib, make up stories, exaggerate what the other has said, etc.  It is all done in fun but makes it difficult to believe the first thing that comes out of each other's mouths.  As an example, my brother called and asked if I was going to see our mother?  She was actually sitting right next to me at the time so I asked if he meant the woman who was sitting next to me and gave birth to him?  He responded that I could confirm one event but the other I would just have to believe.  Naturally, I tell my mother that my brother just said that he doubted that she was his real mother because she was of average intelligence while he, on the other hand, was brilliant. :-)

A little later this same day, the Deux are playing with my brother. He comes out of the room to inform me that Kylie has told him that it was an A and B conversation so he should C his way out!  Of course, my immediate reaction is that he is making it up because I know that I've never said that to the girls or said it around them.  Post-haste I ask Kylie if she said it?  She proudly tells me yes.  I then asked her where she learned that saying? SHE INFORMS ME THAT DADDY TAUGHT HER!!!!

I immediately turn around to give Daddy the evil eye and he is chuckling.  His explanation was that Kennedi is so nosy and kept butting in while he was talking to Kylie, so he told her, "This is an A and B conversation so C your way out like the alphabet ABC."  WHAT WAS HE THINKING?  Still trying to explain, he continues, "You, know after Kylie said it, Kennedi said it and then Kylie said it again but it was only a couple of times...you know, like the alphabet."  All the while, my brother is standing there with this smug "I told you so" look on his face.  I promise you this, if the Deux repeat this statement at school, daddy will be the one to go explain that he was teaching the ABC's.  MEN!

The Gratitude Lesson Continues

The Deux have certain rituals.  One of their favorite is to have a meal of pizza and Churros after shopping at Costco.  Not too long ago, the girls came home quite upset with Daddy because he did not buy them Churros.  They were adamant that I tell him that they always have a Churro with their pizza. Of course, I seized the opportunity to explain that they didn't even have to get pizza and that they should be grateful that Daddy bought pizza and that he did not have to by them a Churro.

Yesterday, we went shopping at Costco.  This was an extra special trip.  You see, their birthday is this Tuesday and I bought them the tutus that Daddy had said they couldn't get on a previous family outing to Costco.  We bought tutus, sampled products, and ended our trip with pizza and a Churro.  Life was perfect.

As we sanitized our hands, a litany of thank yous began.  Each one individually thanked me for everything that I had purchased - tutus, juice boxes, bacon, pizza, and their beloved Churros. I think the only thing they missed was thanking me for giving birth to them.  Kennedi pauses and says, "Mommy, that's a lot of thank yous, right?"  I tell her, "Yes."  She then continues, "Is that enough thank yous?" "Am I grateful enough to eat my pizza and Churro now?"  With that, we took a bite of our pizza, anticipating the first bite of the Churro to follow.  Maybe my lesson is catching on. :-)

The Artist Formally Known As?

A few weeks back, I kept catching glimpses of Facebook statuses commenting on Prince.  They varied from what he was wearing, what he was about to sing, and the like.  Because my attention was not completely on FB, I assumed that I happened to have more than one friend at a Prince concert somewhere.  Little did I know that he was performing and appearing on The George Lopez show.  It was not until the next day that I was able to put the full picture together and realized that I had missed this musical genius.

As the sad truth unfolded on FB, I ran across the silver lining.  Someone had posted a link to the treasure that I had missed.  I click on the link, crank up the volume, and lose myself in the baseline, in awe of his presence.  Suddenly, I feel a head leaning on my shoulder, and it is then that I realize that I've been joined by Kennedi.  She looks up at me and asks, "Mommy, who is that?"  I tell her that it is Prince and she lays her head back on my shoulder.  A few minutes pass and she remains quiet.

My mind immediately shifts to the possibilities.  It appears that she has an appreciation for this purple wonder.  Perhaps this will be a special mommy/daughter bond that just she and I share.  After all, Kylie is in the room and has not even paid us a bit of attention.  I go on to envision concerts together, her asking me to tell her the story of my trip to Paisley Park just one more time, and then she looks up at me, uttering the five words that would shatter my purple dream, "Mommy, where is the King?"