Thursday, December 17, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #16
Forrest: Now that I'm 5, I am the most smart!
Me: Yeah! You'll just keep getting bigger and smarter as you grow.
(pause)
Me: Well, some people never get much smarter.
Forrest: Like Daddy.
Me: ???????
As you may recall, I trimmed my pixie up a bit with the idea of styling it in a faux hawk . . . which I ended up feeling a bit awkward wearing. It's growing on me now that I've done it a few times, but I was asking the family what they thought of it.
Forrest: Your hair makes you look like a man.
Jeff: I like it. I think it looks cool.
Forrest: No, Daddy is lying to you. He is just saying that to be polite.
Jeff: No I'm not! I really like it.
Forrest: . . . You look like a man.
Relayed to me from his preschool teacher.
Forrest: (at school) Miss ___________, did you know you are my buddy?!
Teacher: Thank you, Forrest! You're my buddy, too!
Forrest: I know.
(pause)
Forrest: But you are not my best buddy. And I can't tell you who my best buddy is, because it would hurt your feelings that you are not my best buddy.
At his 5-year checkup with his pediatrician.
Doctor: Forrest, do you have any questions for me about your body or your health?
Forrest: (without even a second of hesitation) Yes. How did Jesus make my brain?
Doctor: How did . . . how did Jesus make your brain?
Forrest: Yes.
Doctor: . . .
I forget what we were talking about here, but I jokingly said . . .
Me: Are you crazy?!
Forrest: No! I'm not crazy! But I actually am a little bit toot-ish. *farts*
While I'm scurrying around, getting dinner ready.
Forrest: Are you tired of doing all this work?
Me: Yes.
Forrest: Do you wish you were a little girl right now so you wouldn't have to work anymore?
Me: . . . yes.
I tried a new foundation and knew that Forrest's brutal childhood honesty would be a good indicator of whether or not I picked a spot-on match for my skin color.
Me: Hey Forrest, come look at my face. Does it look okay? Does anything look different about it today?
Forrest: (inspects) It's fine.
Me: Okay, thanks.
Forrest: You look nice. Today you do not look like a man.
Me:
Forrest: Sometimes you do look like a man, but not today.
Me:
Jeff and I have noticed that Forrest has pretty much no resiliency or self-motivation . . . if he wants to do something and he finds it hard, he gets upset and gives up immediately. He's been enjoying his karate classes until the last few weeks, when he's been complaining that they're too hard and he wants to stop going. We don't really want him to give up on it just because it's difficult, so we've been talking to him about giving his best effort and not giving up on things.
Jeff: So, do you understand what it means to try your best and not give up?
Forrest: Yes.
Jeff: Ok, awesome.
Forrest: And do you know what?
Jeff: What?
Forrest: I am going to not quit. I'm going to eat my whole breakfast now and not even give up until it is all gone!
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Lately
- Forrest fractured a bone in his foot a few weeks ago, and is going to need to spend some time brainstorming a more impressive story to tell people about his broken bone experience, because the reality was embarrassingly dull. He was running, tripped, and fell. Boom. Broken foot. I don't even understand how anything could have been fractured by such a commonplace occurrence (and I was sitting on the couch, watching him do it!). He spent a few weeks in a boot and is fully recovered now. He thought the whole experience was very exciting, and flirted shamelessly with all the nurses, doctors, radiologists, and receptionists he met in the hopes that one of them would change their mind about the boot and give an awesome red cast instead.
- The piglets have been introduced to Krispy Kreme and talk about it basically nonstop now. I am having a hard time turning down their requests for Krispy Kreme runs, especially since we live about 5 minutes away from them now and it is all too easy (and delicious) to just give in and get donuts rather than argue them into a more nutritious snack.
- A new used bookstore opened up a few minutes from my house. I am proud to say I haven't spent a whole lot of money there, but it isn't for lack of trying--the books are $1 each, so it'll take a while for me to make a good solid dent in our bank account. I'm making great progress though!!
- I'm sorry to say it, but Darcy has really pulled one over on you guys. People seem to think she's all sweetness and smiles when the truth is that a lurking demon has been awakened deep in her soul. Her terrible twos set in early and hard, and if anyone is looking to spend some quality time with a feisty, opinionated toddler, I have one you're welcome to borrow.
- Jeff (or Mr. Matilda, if you will) has been a busy little worker bee and has outgrown his current office space in a major way. A move/upgrade has been a long time coming for him and his practice, and we are super excited that it is finally underway. (Of course, we would be even more excited if we weren't the ones paying for the renovation of a new office space, but such is life.) I don't want to show any pictures until it's finished, but that little autumn scene up there was taken out of the window of the new location. Not too shabby. It's going to be an awesome office, and I can't wait to get it all finished up. For now, it is sapping all of my life force, and these renovation price tags make me want to cry. Send chocolate.
- I cut my hair quite a few weeks ago, and have been embarrassing myself tremendously with far too many selfies on Instagram. I suppose the new hair will probably get its own post here because that's exactly the sort of silly thing I'm always going on about online, so hang on, I'm sure that post is waiting in the wings.
What have you been up to lately?
Friday, October 9, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #15
On the way to my brother's church for his new daughter's baby blessing, we passed another church building (not the one we were headed for).
Forrest: (excitedly) Is that the church we're going to?
Me: Well, that is a church.
Forrest: Oh . . . are we looking for 'b' church?
Forrest: Mama, you look like a princess!
Me: Oh, that's so nice! Which one?
Forrest: Rapunzel.
Me: (gesturing towards short hair) Really? I don't think I look much like her.
Forrest: Well, after Flynn gives her a haircut.
Forrest has one set prayer that he rattles off every night before bed, despite my encouraging him to think outside the box and express gratitude for that day's blessings or ask for help with struggles he faced that day. The other night, he rattled off his same exact nightly prayer . . .
Me: That was good. But how about we say another one where you try saying some different things that you don't say every night?
Forrest: Okay. (thinks for a moment) I'm ready.
Me: Awesome. Let's hear it.
Forrest: (closes eyes, folds arms) Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to say different things. Amen.
After his birthday party, we asked Forrest what he wished for when he blew out the candle on his birthday cupcake.
Forrest: I wished to eat my cupcake!
granted!
Walking through BYU campus with Forrest, he spotted the name George on a building and recognized it.
Forrest: Does that say George?! Like Curious George!?
Me: Yeah, it does say George! But it's not Curious George.
Forrest: Oh, is it George Washington?
Me: (surprised that he knows that name at all) It's not, but how do you know who George Washington is?
Forrest: He's on the money. He's the guy in charge of making the money, so he put his face on it.
While he was in the middle of a tantrum.
Me: Cut it out. You are acting nasty right now.
Forrest: NASTY! I am not nasty!!! I'm not a big pile of lettuce!!!
In the car, out of nowhere.
Forrest: When I look at girls, I get heart-shape eyes!
Me: Oh yeah? Why?
Forrest: Because girls are so cute!!
Send help.
Also in the car, also out of nowhere.
Forrest: Do you know who beats up the Holy Ghost and tries to make him dead?
Me: . . . . I guess not . . . .
Forrest: The Ghostbusters. Because their job is to destroy ghosts. And the Holy Ghost is a ghost, so they will find him and kill him.
Forrest: Why did Jesus make me so I want to talk AAAALLLLLL the time?
Forrest had a friend over to play--she bumped her head and I joking said that maybe it needed a kiss from Forrest. She declined, and he asked her--
Forrest: Are you sure? I give lovely kisses.
While petting a friend's puppy--
Me: Awwww, he's so cute! Do you think we should get a puppy?
Forrest: Well, I don't think you have time for that. You're too busy training me to train a puppy, too.
Praying--
Forrest: Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for our happy day, thank you for Daddy--he's my best buddy. Thank you for Mama--she's just my buddy. Amen.
Me: *winks at Forrest*
Forrest: *winks back very awkwardly, with lots of head tilting and face squinching and nose crinkling*
Me: Ha. You're cute.
Forrest: (sheepish giggling) I know, I'm super cute.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #14
While Forrest was grumping around about who even knows what,
Jeff: What are you so mad about?
Forrest: (shouting) I'm not mad!
Jeff: You look mad to me.
Forrest: (shouting, near tears) This isn't mad!!! This is angry! They are different!!!
Forrest often comes home from church repeating kind of weird-sounding stuff that I guess he learned in class, but has certainly misunderstood and put his own childish spin on. And hearing his religious thoughts are usually a mix of young sweetness and sorta creepy ideas. After his church class on a recent Sunday . . .
Forrest: Did you know that when you pray, it invites the Holy Ghost into your body?
Me: Um, I guess I knew that, yes.
Forrest: But the Holy Ghost does not have a body! He has no mouth to talk to you with! So do you know how he talks to you?
Me: How?
Forrest: He dings.
Me: . . . what?
Forrest: He dings! Like a little bell!
Me: . . . no . . .
Forrest: YES! And it sounds like this--*ding!*
Me:
In the car recently, we had to pull over while an ambulance zoomed by with the siren and lights on.
Forrest: Oh dear! Does that mean someone is hurt somewhere?!?! Or is the ambulance just practicing?!
Me: Well, someone is probably hurt.
Forrest: Oh dear.
Me: Yeah. Maybe we could say a little prayer that the person who is hurt will be okay?
Forrest: No thanks, that won't do anything.
Me: . . . yes, it could help. Heavenly Father will hear our prayer and maybe he will help the person.
Forrest: No, because he's not real.
Me:
That's our little atheist.
Jeff took Forrest out to buy a birthday present for me, and Forrest was excited to choose a gift for me. Also, as a reminder, Jeff is a chiropractor.
Jeff: Are you sure you want to spend all your money on a present for Mama?
Forrest: Yes!
Jeff: Won't you be sad if you don't have any more money?
Forrest: No, I can just make more money.
Jeff: Oh yeah? How will you earn more money?
Forrest: Well, I will treat people.
Jeff: Treat people? What does that mean?
Forrest: I'll treat people! If people have ouchy backs, they will come to see me, and I will treat them and give them adjustments, and they will get better, and they will give me money.
At the library, Forrest spotted a mom sitting at a table while her daughter played nearby. He strolled right up and, uninvited, took the seat directly across from her.
Forrest: Hi! My name is Forrest, and I was wondering if you would like to hear everything about me?
Lady:
At the grocery store
Older lady: What a nice looking pair of kids you've got there!
Forrest: Yeah, and I'm even friendly, too!
Telling me about something he saw on Sesame Street . . .
Forrest: So then Culver said--
Me: Who?
Forrest: Culver the Grouch. He lives in the garbage can.
Me: Oscar?
Forrest: Ummm, no I think it's Culver.
He's taking a jiu jitsu class and earned his first stripe on his white belt this week. He's really excited about the idea of moving up and earning new belts, and seems confused about how exactly that happens.
Forrest: So I can get a black belt like my coach has?
Me: Yeah! You'll need to practice a lot and work really hard.
Forrest: Is there another way to get a black belt, without the practicing and working?
Me: What do you mean?
Forrest: Like, can I get one with some money?
Me: You can't buy a black belt.
Forrest: (dramatic sigh) FIIIIINE.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Townhouse Tour: Nautical Big Boy Bedroom
His itty bitty 3 drawer dresser has been bursting at the seams for years now, so maybe we ought to get a bigger dresser for him . . . and if we're going to be getting a bigger dresser, maybe I'd better get him a matching nightstand, too . . . and if he's going to have a full-sized dresser and nightstand, I suppose he ought to move up into a twin bed since his little toddler bed might look silly next to all that big furniture . . .
All of a sudden, we had an entire bedroom transformation on our hands. These projects always start out innocently, don't they? Classic 'if you give a mouse a cookie' situation.
I wanted it to be a room he could grow with--something that's perfectly fun for him now while he's little, but will be just as fitting for a 6- or 10- or 13-year old boy. I love how it came out.
I wondered if he'd have any issues with moving from a little toddler bed to something bigger--he's actually done really great. He loves his new bed and seems to think it's really cool and grown up to sleep in a big bed.
I remembered looking at Beddy's months and months earlier, and revisited their site, where I fell hard for the Game On bedding set. It looked to me like the perfect bedding for a classic boys' room--it has personality and was a great jumping-off point for the rest of a traditional, nautical room design, but it's simple and classic enough to be a great fit for all sorts of bedrooms, so I'd have some freedom to change up the look of the room later on. But more on the bedding in a minute.
First, the dresser that started it all. As I mentioned earlier, Forrest has been using a 3-drawer dresser forever, and while it was a good fit for his baby clothes, it was just too small as he (and his clothes!) grew. So we went all-out with a big 9-drawer dresser, with the hope that I never have to buy him a larger dresser ever again. It's a pretty large piece of furniture, but this room is bigger than his room in our old house, so I think it actually works fine in here. Never could have made this work in his old room.
I feel like Pinterest would want me to accessorize and style the top of the dresser. But real life tells me that this is a 4-year old boy's bedroom, and any styling will last approximately 45 seconds before he sweeps it off to use as a superhero fighting arena. So I didn't even bother. Just for the sake of these pictures, I tossed on a wood slice leftover from my sister's wedding decor, along with a wooden fish my brother brought back for me from Guatemala about 15 years ago, and Forrest's alarm clock that is only like 80% clock, and 20% little kid finger grime.
The woman who painted the dresser also refinished this little nightstand for the room, too. I worried about the style of this one, but I've decided that it's actually really functional. The drawers are fake (bummer), so having an extra shelf provides some of the storage I wish it had in the first place.
The little basket (toy storage) is from HomeGoods, the plant and planter are from Ikea, and the light-up letter is from Joann. The anchor art above the bed is also from HomeGoods.
I felt like a nautical bedroom wouldn't be complete without a red, white, and blue pennant banner. I made this super simple one in less than an hour (super simple in that I didn't bother making it reversible or finishing the cut edges or anything--it's going to hang, untouched, on a wall, so I don't see the point of making it all fancy). The fabrics are from Joann--1/4 yard each of 5 different prints, plus 2 spools of navy ribbon. I love the playful touch it adds.
One of my biggest annoyances in Forrest's room has always been that he won't (or can't) make his bed by himself. It's not that big of a deal for me to make it for him, really, but it's just another chore to do when I already have so many things to do around the house every day. I've tried teaching him how to make his bed, but even with a small toddler bed, he couldn't reach far enough to pull the blankets up, and he could never pull them straight, and he'd get frustrated and upset about it.
This is awesome--the Beddy's includes all the bedding you need in one piece. The fitted sheet and blanket are connected along the bottom, and the top blanket just needs to be zipped up along the side to make the bed. When you need to wash the bedding, you just pull it all off in one piece and toss it in the washer. And the top blanket? It's lined with minky. What I wouldn't give to sleep under a minky blanket each night.
He just unzips it at night and climbs inside (and a minky panel pulls out so that even when he's under the top blanket, there's some blanket hang-over on the sides so he won't get chilly). How obvious is it that he thought it was awfully silly to pretend to be sleeping for this picture?
And in the morning, he just pulls the blanket straight and zips up the side to make his bed.
I LOVE that he can make his bed completely on his own. He doesn't need my help, he doesn't get frustrated about it like he used to, and it only takes him a few seconds. The quality of the bedding is really wonderful, and the idea itself is genius. No more morning fights over making his bed.
For your viewing pleasure: a GIF of the bed-making in action. I hope this works. I have no idea what I'm doing.
Just an FYI: this post is not sponsored. But I wrote to Beddy's after falling in love with their bedding online and they graciously sent Forrest's bedding in exchange for mentioning them in this post. And I can recommend them 100% . . . awesome customer service, high-quality materials, and it makes our mornings go a little more smoothly.
What do you think of Forrest's bedroom? Do your kids struggle to get their beds made in the morning?
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #13
Forrest: Do you know what my heart does when you kiss me?
Me: What?
Forrest: It shines.
Amy Grant comes on the radio--Baby Baby.
Me: Do you hear this song, Forrest? I used to like this song when I was a little girl. (pause) What do you think of it?
Forrest: Weeeeelllll, it is definitely NOT my favorite.
Forrest: Have you ever seen a mermaid?
Me: Not in real life, no.
Forrest: I have, so I will tell you what they look like. They have very long tails, and very long hair, and they wear two little seashells on their two little boobies.
While being babysat by my mom,
Forrest: (inspecting) Grandma, why do you have that wrinkly skin all over your body?
Grandma: . . . I guess it's because I'm getting old :-(
Forrest: Old! But I do not want you to die!!
On the way to the hospital to see his brand new cousin, Katie, I kept referring to her as 'Baby Katie.'
Forrest: Is that her name?
Me: Baby Katie?
Forrest: Is her first name 'Baby,' and her last name 'Katie?'
Me: No, her name is Katie. I'm just calling her Baby Katie, because she's a baby.
Forrest: That's not right. Stop calling her that.
Seeing himself in the mirror, dressed up in his Sunday best for church.
Forrest: Wow! I look like a real handsome little guy! I'm so proud of me.
My mom was telling me about a box of free kittens she saw in an office the other day, and I said I wanted to go get one.
Forrest: No! No, Mama, you can't! Do you know why? Because daddy is allergic to cats! So you can't have one!
Me: Well, that's not very nice of him.
Forrest: (thinks it over) No, it is not very nice, because you like cats. Maybe Daddy could just be allergic to a different animal instead. Maybe a lion or something?
Coming downstairs after quiet time.
Forrest: Do you know what I was doing during quiet time? I was pretending to be a hamster.
Me: Oh yeah?
Forrest: Yeah. A hamster is someone who watches the pool to make sure everyone is safe while they are swimming.
Me: . . . you mean a lifeguard?
Forrest: . . . ok fine.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Kid Quirks
Think it over. Adults (most of them, anyway) have learned to weed the weirdness out of their personalities (a sad process learned step by agonizing step through adolescence). Or at the very least, most adults hide their natural weirdness and just let little quirky snippets peek through their veneer of normalness. But you have to admire how kids are so unabashedly bizarre, each in their own uniquely oddball way.
These two nuggets, of course, are no exception to the weirdo kid rule. I am here today to offer you just a small sampling of their wonderfully quirky tendencies.
Forrest enjoys almost all meats, but only if you call it chicken. If you offer him beef? He'll take a pass, thank you, but if you offer him brown chicken? What do you know, he happens to love brown chicken! Ham? No ma'am, he won't touch ham, but he's all about pink chicken. The only meat we consume in our house is chicken--in all its colorful and multi-animal variety. And while we're at it, please exclusively refer to butter as cream, smoothies as Costco smoothies, and macaroni and cheese as just macaroni--no cheese. Because he thinks he doesn't like butter, or smoothies, or cheese. Even though he does.
Darcy prefers to be wearing sunglasses at all times. If not sunglasses, definitely a hat. Preferably both sunglasses and a hat. Because the sun must be avoided at all costs.
Forrest is the 'mean word' enforcement at our house. Someone (his preschool teacher, I'm guessing?) told him that 'stupid' is a mean word, and that 'weird' is okay but you absolutely canNOT say that a person is weird. So heaven help you if he hears you say 'stupid'--he will lecture you until your ears fall out. I have successfully used words of the 4-letter variety in his presence with no reaction whatsoever--but stupid? Expect a lecture. And if he hears you say 'weird?' You might get off with just a warning, as long as you can assure him (and this is not a simple task!) that you were not not not calling a person weird.
Forrest regularly mishears song lyrics and absolutely cannot be convinced that he is wrong, even when he is singing absolute gibberish and nonsense and the real lyrics actually make sense.
Darcy is the pickiest pacifier sucker in all the land. She will not accept pacifiers that are flat across the top (as most are), or age appropriate. She exclusively sucks the round rubber newborn-sized pacifiers . . . the kind that most hospitals have on hand. I've tried to switch her to the regular, older kid kind (as shown in these pictures), and she will hold it in her mouth if she can't find a newborn one, but finds absolutely no comfort in it. If she actually gets upset, oh boy, you'd just better hope a teensy newborn paci is close at hand.
Forrest may have been permanently scarred when we tried to talk him into letting us brush his teeth by telling him that he'd get holes in his teeth if he didn't brush every night. We weren't trying to be malicious--I mean, that's what cavities are . . . little holes in your teeth. But he took it SUPER literally, in a frightening and monstrous way, and now becomes frantic if we forget to brush his teeth, or if he thinks we aren't brushing often enough.
Forrest is a deeply devoted follower of rules . . . as long as they are not my rules. If you tell him the rule at the park is that he can't climb up the slide? Fine. He will follow that rule so fiercely that he will actually be moved to tears when he sees other children break it. But if I just tell him, as a concerned and loving parent, that he cannot climb up the slide? Bye Felicia. Brother does what he wants.
Darcy only drinks apple juice. Period. After a year of breastfeeding, she swore off milk 100% and has never allowed a drop to cross her lips since. No formula, no whole milk, no almond/soy milks, not even chocolate milk. NO MILK. (And no water, either.) Just watered-down apple juice. End of story.
Forrest insists he does not have a middle name. He does have a middle name. He will not believe me on this topic.
Forrest is an equal opportunity media consumer--he truly seems to have no preference between 'girl' and 'boy' toys/shows/movies, and just loves everything with all of his little heart. (I do not think this is weird in the slightest, and I am happy to encourage him to play with and watch any great shows that make him happy. I just take this as evidence of his loving, accepting, and tender heart.) He has an extensive and detailed knowledge of every My Little Pony character (which he would just love to recite to you at rapid-fire speed), but he'd be every bit as happy to sing any superhero show theme song if you asked for it. He is just as likely to request either the 'girl' Happy Meal toy or the 'boy' one, and when I let him choose a notebook from the dollar spot at Target the other day, he gleefully selected one with Anna and Elsa on the cover and told me that Anna was his favorite movie character because she is 'very clever and brave.'
Darcy, on the other hand, made a beeline for an Avengers notebook, and hasn't let it out of her clutches yet.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #12
Me: You’re a silly kid, Forrest.
Forrest: (indignant) No I’m not! I’m just myself!!
My grandma was in town recently, and it’s the first time Forrest has seen her since we flew to New York for my grandpa’s funeral a year ago. Forrest has been curious about why great-grandma is visiting, but great-grandpa isn’t, so we’ve had some chats about death, which I feel terrifically unprepared for.Me: Well, when great grandpa died, his body stayed here but his spirit went up to heaven.
Forrest: . . . where was his spirit before he died?
Me: It was inside of him. His spirit is who he is, and his body is just the outside.
Forrest: . . . his spirit is inside? Like with his bones?
Me: I guess so, yeah.
Forrest: (after a pause) Ok well next time we go to Daddy’s office I am going to take an x-ray of myself so I can see my spirit.
After I came out of the bathroom . . . Forrest: What were you doing in there??
Me: Going to the bathroom.
Forrest: NO, you were not, because you do not have a butt.
Me:
Forrest: Girls do not have butts, and they cannot poop.
On the phone with Jeff, Forrest overheard me say ‘stupid,’ which he has learned is not a nice word. Feel free to use your naughtiest swear words in his presence since he has no idea what they mean, but heaven help you if you say 'stupid.'Forrest: MAMA!!! You said a very bad word!
Me: Oh, right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.
Forrest: Are you a mean girl? NO. So you should NOT be saying mean things like that.
Me: You’re right.
Forrest: If you say that bad word again, I will say, ‘Mama, you are a potato head,’ because a potato head is what we call someone who is not nice. Don’t be a potato head.
At Target, I owed Forrest a treat and tried to talk him into gummy worms, which he declined in favor of Swedish fish (the worst! whose kid is this?!). So I obviously had no choice but to buy the gummy worms for myself anyway. In the car on the way home, while each of us ate our own candy:Forrest: These fishy candies are delicious!!Me: Good, I’m glad you like them.
Forrest: How are your snails?
Me: . . . what?
Forrest: I said how are your gummy snails?
Out of nowhere:Forrest: I think girls are cute.
Me: . . . yeah? Do you know what ‘cute’ means?
Forrest: Cute means sooooooooo beautiful. I think girls are cute and it is my superhero power to hug them!
Me:
Friday, April 10, 2015
Friday List guest post by Forrest: Favorite Baby Animals
Sweet, tender-hearted Forrest dissolved into a puddle of giggles over a book about baby animals recently, so I thought I’d let him take over for this week’s Friday list. Please welcome Forrest in his blogging debut as he shares his 5 favorite baby animals, presented below with his commentary.
Image sources: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5
1. Baby Pig - “He’s so cute when he’s playing his violin!!” (Me: I think that’s a guitar.) “No, it is a violin, and his favorite music to play on his violin is ‘rocker.’”
2. Baby Cow - “Did you know baby cows like to snuggle with their mama cows?! It is very so sweet, and that is why they are my favorite. I like the white baby cows best!”
3. Baby Kitten - “All the baby kittens are very very cute, but the orange baby kittens are THE CUTEST ONES. That one is having fun playing in the gwass. He is a sweet kitty!!”
4. Baby Fox – (Me: Why do you like baby foxes?) “I don’t know. He is just so cute. I just like him and his big big ears.”
5. Baby Giraffe – “Oh dear, that giraffe is drinking from a bottle?! He is like a real person baby!!! He is like Daw-see!”
“Okay, bye!! I am going to watch shows now!!” -- Forrest
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #11
Looking at his preschool calendar.
Forrest: What are we doing on this day?
Me: It looks like you have a field trip to Cabela’s that day.
Forrest: Oh! Cabela’s! Is that like Disney World?
Me: . . . well, some people would say so, yes.
Waiting in line at the store, Forrest spotted a man ahead of us in line with full tattoo sleeves.
Forrest: WHOA!! Look at the pictures on that guy’s arms!
Me: Yeah, those are tattoos.
Forrest: Those are SO SO COOL! I wish I had those pictures on my arms! (dramatic sigh) But he has those big muscle arms and I just have little arms. So I will wait until I grow up, and then I will have big muscle arms, and then I can have those arm pictures.
after lunch
Me: Forrest, put your plate in the dishwasher before you go play.
Forrest: Nope. I think you can handle that job.
Me: (death glare)
Forrest: (nervous chuckle) Oh, right, ha ha, I better do that job all by my big boy self and I definitely do not need a time out!!
Forrest woke up twice in the night feeling sick, and threw up both times. In the morning, I woke up to find him standing next to my bed, with his face about 5 inches away from mine.
Forrest: Happy burfday, Mama.
Me: Thanks buddy, but it’s not my birthday.
Forrest: Happy burfday, and I threw up on the couch.
Forrest: Do you know why we celebrate Easter?
Me: Why?
Forrest: Because it’s Santa’s birthday.
Me: No, actually, Easter was when Jesus died and got resurrected.
Forrest: Oh, right! And Jesus died-ed because he was just getting very old and sick.
Me: That’s not even close--
Forrest: But it’s okay that he died-ed, because he did some bad things. He was not a good guy.
Me: Oh my gosh, no.
His religious education is coming along reeeeeaaal nice.
I can’t remember why, but Forrest was furious at me for some reason. I’m sure it was justified.
Forrest: (screaming) I don’t want you anymore!!!
Me: What do you mean?
Forrest: I want you to go away from here and NEVER COME BACK!!!
Me: Fine, I’ll leave. (starts downstairs—don’t ask what the plan was, I didn’t have one.)
Forrest: (after a moment) WAIT!! NO!! DON’T GO!!!
Me: I thought you wanted me gone forever.
Forrest: (on the verge of tears) You can’t go! Darcy is too heavy for me to carry up and down the stairs by myself!!
Me: Really? That’s the only reason you want me here?
Forrest: Also, I cannot reach the food!
Friday, March 6, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #10
Forrest: Will you get married someday, Mama?
Me: I already did get married. It was a long time ago, before you were born.
Forrest: Oh! Really?!
Me: Yep. Do you know who I married?
Forrest: (thinks)
Me: Do you need a hint? It’s someone I love a lot.
Forrest: . . . . . . . .
Me:
Forrest: . . . . . . . Bekah? (my sister)
Forrest: Daddy, I love you a LOT LOT LOT.
Jeff: Thanks Forrest! I love you too.
Forrest: Yep.
Jeff: Do you know what it means to love someone?
Forrest: It means you protect them--
Jeff: –that’s actually really smart--
Forrest: –with your guns.
Jeff: . . . huh.
from the backseat of the car
Forrest: Some animals live underwater!
Me:
Forrest: Well, thanks for joining me for my science show.
An extensive science knowledge! ONE fact.
drawing a picture and pretending to write at the top of the paper
Forrest: I drew this for Darcy! Do you know what this says?
Me: No, what does it say?
Forrest: It says, ‘Sometimes I get mad at you, but I still love you Darcy.’
Forrest: My friend at preschool is named Caleb. Do you know how to spell ‘Caleb?’
Me: Yes, I think so. Do you?
Forrest: Yes. Caleb is spelled with a L – E – G – O. And that spells Caleb.
Me: Well, no, that does not spell Caleb, but did you know you just spelled the word ‘Lego?’
Forrest: No, I don’t think so. I spelled Caleb.
Me: . . . ok.
Forrest: What are you making for dinner?
Me: Chicken Yakisoba.
Forrest: Chicken yucky soda?!
Me: No, it’s chicken yakisoba.
Forrest: I don’t like things that have yucky in them!!!
Me: . . . ok, it’s actually called chicken yummysoba.
Forrest: Oh. Ok, I guess that’s fine.
Darcy has this high-pitched, excited squeal/scream, and she was doing it over and over and overandover while Forrest was playing, and after asking her to be quiet a few times, he got frustrated.
Forrest: Daw-see!!! Stop screaming!!
Darcy: (screams)
Forrest: (dramatic sigh) DAWSEE. I know you are trying your best but you have GOT to STOP THAT.
Wonder where he’s heard that before . . . ? #angelmother
After a sleepover at my mom’s
Forrest: (sigh) I just wish I could live with Grandma at her house.
Me: I would miss you too much if you lived with Grandma!
Forrest: Well maybe you could just find some other kid to come live with you.
Forrest: You look GORGE!
Me:
Forrest: (whispering) Psst, that is what they say on the Barbie TV show. It means the word ‘gorgeous.’
After Valentine’s Day, Forrest was SUPER excited to have a Valentine’s puppy tattoo on the back of each hand. We stopped at the grocery store, and he was very eager to share his tattoo joy with everyone he saw.
Forrest: (pointing at a lady in the same aisle as us) Mama, can I go show her my tattoos?
Me: No, don’t bother anyone.
moments later, in an other aisle
Forrest: Can I go bother that lady? I want her to see my tattoos.
Me: No.
moments later, in another aisle
Forrest: Can I go bother her?
Me: No.
Forrest: But if I don’t bother SOMEONE, then NO ONE will see my tattoos!!! WHO CAN I BOTHER???
Friday, January 23, 2015
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #9
I put on a movie for Forrest to watch while I took a shower and got ready. When I came downstairs a while later . . .
Forrest: You all done getting ready, Mama?
Me: Yep.
Forrest: (turning to look at me) Whoa! You look so beautiful!!!
Me: That is such a nice thing to say! Thank you, Forrest!
Forrest: Has no one ever told you that thing before?
Jeff helping Forrest with the TV.
Jeff: Push a button on the remote. Just push any button.
Forrest: But where is the ‘any’ button?!
We went to church with my mom a few weeks ago, and Forrest went with her to the Sunday School class she teaches to the 16 and 17 year old kids. There were 3 boys in attendance that day, and after they (very nicely!) spent a few minutes chatting with Forrest, he turned to my mom and . . .
Forrest: (in a very loud stage whisper) Are these guys boys or mans??
Forrest: Mama, did you know that everybody gets scared sometimes?
Me: Even Daddy?
Forrest: Welllll . . . no, Daddy does not get scared, because he has a lot of guns.
Me:
In the car, listening to Taylor Swift.
Forrest: (dramatic sigh) I wish the people on the radio were REAL.
Me: They are real . . . we just don’t know them.
Forrest: Really?! That is cool!
Me: Yep. Do you wish you knew Taylor Swift?
Forrest: No. I wish I knew Carrie (Underwood). Do you know where Carrie lives? Can we go to her house to play?
Dream big, little buddy. And also, good taste.
Forrest: Can I have some milk?
Me: Sure.
Forrest: No, wait!! I want CHOCOLATE milk! Can I have that?
Me: Ok.
Forrest: Do you know how to make it? Because if you don't know how to make it, I can have regular milk.
Me: I think I can handle it.
Forrest: Are you sure? Are you SUUUURE you know how to make it? Maybe you should just get me regular milk.
Such confidence in my kitchen abilities!
We had a neighbor girl babysit recently. Before we left, I asked if she had any questions, and she said she’d be fine—she just lives up the street and she said she’d call her mom for help if she had any trouble. The next morning:
Me: Did you have fun with Elizabeth last night, Forrest?
Forrest: Yes!! I love Elizabeth!!
Me: Oh, good! What did you guys do together?
Forrest: We played Legos, and she gave me a snack, and she called her mom one time, and she tucked me into bed!
Me: (worried about the call to her mom—maybe something happened that she didn’t tell me about?) Oh yeah? What did she say on the phone to her mom?
Forrest: Elizabeth called her mom and she saided, “MOM! OH NO! DARCY CRAPPED ALL OVER HER SHIRT!!!”
Upon spotting a box of maxi pads being purchased by someone ahead of us in line at Walmart . . .
Forrest: (loudly) What’s she buying? Are those for her BUTT?? Because they look like DIAPERS.
Forrest: What does frenemy mean?
Me: . . . what?
Forrest: I said what does FRENEMY mean?
Me: Um, I guess it means someone who is sort of your friend, but doesn’t treat you very nicely.
Forrest: Hm.
Me: Does that make sense?
Forrest: But in Toy Story, why do they say, ‘you’ve got a frenemy’??
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #8
Forrest: Do you know who is pwettier than you, Mama?
Me:
Forrest: Jasmine. She is vewwy pwettier than you.
Me:
At church, Forrest was staring at the family seated in front of us, particularly the dad holding their (totally normal looking) baby boy.
Forrest: (in a very loud stage whisper) That baby is CREEPY.
Dad in front of us overhears, of course, and turns around.
Forrest: (directed to the dad, whispered even louder than before) It’s because of his creepy face. He has a really creepy face.
Forrest talks very loudly (and yes, we’ve had his hearing checked), and I’m sorry to say I get frustrated with his constant very loud chatter.
Me: (annoyed when he shouted something right in my face) Why do you shout everything all the time?!
Forrest: Because I’m really excited about everything!
I found a huge pile of waffle pieces and crumbs right next to the kitchen sink, where I think Forrest had tried to dump his breakfast leftovers into the sink and missed.
Me: Forrest, what’s this mess?
Forrest: Oh, that? That’s all my breakfast.
Me: Yes, I can see that. Clean it up.
Forrest: Oh really? Huh. I left it there because I thought you would probably like to clean it up.
Me:
Forrest: Because of how you’re really good at cleaning. All by yourself.
After polishing off a bowl of yogurt.
Forrest: I need more yogurt!
Me: Okay, just a second . . . (finishes folding laundry)
10 minutes later
Forrest: I need yogurt!
Me: Right, hang on . . . (responds to a few emails and gets distracted by pinterest)
10 minutes later
Forrest: I need more yogurt please!
Me: Oh, ok, yes . . . (refills Darcy’s juice and gets her a snack, washes a few dishes, then finally hands Forrest a full bowl of yogurt probably 25 minutes, minimum, after his first yogurt request)
Forrest: Oh boy, thanks! That was very quickly!
Sitting next to me on the couch, he accidentally rubbed his hand against my bare leg.
Forrest: Whoa!! Those are some sharp legs!
My mom let Forrest bring home a Jasmine toy from her house, which he keeps forgetting to return to her. Every time we go to her house now, he asks if he can bring home another toy.
Me: You can’t borrow another toy from Grandma’s house until you bring back the one you already borrowed.
Forrest: (indignant) I was not borrowing a toy!!!
Me: Yes, you took the Jasmine doll, remember?
Forrest: I was not borrowing her! I was taking her and keeping her!!!
We got a Costco membership recently and now Forrest is obsessed with samples. He likes his food cut into ‘sample bites,’ and loves offering samples around the table.
Forrest: (holding out a plate full of random toys) Do you want a sample? It is hot noodles!
Me: Yum. How did you make it?
Forrest: I used sugar, and ketchup slices, and sugar, and shark nuts.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Deep Thoughts with Forrest #7
Jeff was helping Forrest get ready for bed, and pointed out his post-bath pruny toes.
Jeff: Look at your toes! They’re all wrinkly, like an old man’s toes. Just like mine.
Forrest: (with a look of horror on his face) . . . am I a daddy now?
Jeff: What?
Forrest: My toes are like your toes so I am a daddy now. (with tears in his eyes) I don’t want to be a daddy!
Jeff pulled one of my hairs off Forrest’s shirt, aaaand:
Jeff: Hey, what’s this?
Forrest: It’s a Mama hair. Is Mama’s hair falling out?
Jeff: Looks like it. Will Mama be a boy if her hair falls out?
Forrest: No, boys have hair.
Jeff: Well, what will she be, then?
Forrest: Mama will be a monster.
Further conversation revealed that he was not being rude—he was referring to the hairless reptilian monsters of Monsters, Inc. I guess he basically sees me as Randall in a wig. Encouraging.
Completely out of the blue.
Forrest: I don’t fink I want Daw-see to be my sister anymore.
Jeff recently joked while we were out for an evening walk that we’d better hurry home before it got dark and the hoodlums came out. A few days later Jeff was staying late at work, and Forrest asked where he was.
Me: Daddy has to work late tonight. He won’t be home until after you’re asleep and it’s dark outside.
Forrest: Oh no!!! That’s vewwy bad news!!!
Me: Why?
Forrest: If he is out at night and it is dark, the hoodlums will come into his office and get him!!
Our electrician, Mark, was over recently updating some light fixtures, and Forrest was absolutely desperate to ‘help’ him (more like chatter at him incessantly, roughly 5000 words per minute). I told him Mark didn’t need his help, and Forrest shouldn’t bother him, and he sulked for awhile before coming up with a brilliant plan to get past me and talk to him.
Forrest: I weally want to tell somebody all about my day at preschool today.
Me: Leave Mark alone.
Forrest: (offended) I didn’t say Mark!!! I said somebody!!!
Me: Okay, who did you have in mind?
Forrest: (tapping chin thoughtfully) Hmm, well, I fink Mark looks like he would like to hear about preschool.
I think they’re doing a lot of ‘what letter does this word start with?’ at preschool, because Forrest keeps coming up with the most random letter starts (clearly, he’s a total rock star at preschool, top of his class). For instance,
Forrest: Hey Mama, do you know what sound starts Wednesday?
Me: No, what?
Forrest: We can twy it together. It’s W-W-W-W-Wednesday. So what letter does it start with?
Me: Hmmm. It sounds like a W to me.
Forrest: No, that is not wight, but that was a vewwy good try. It’s W-W-W-Wednesday, and it starts with the letter W-W-W-kangaroo.
Me:
On our way to the grocery store, where I always buy him a donut if he behaves.
Me: Make sure to behave nicely at the store—if you’re a really good boy, you’ll get your special treat.
Forrest: What is my tweat?!?
Me: We get it every time. It starts with a D. D-D-D . . . (waiting for him to finish it for me)
Forrest: (blank stare)
Me: Do . . . dooooo . . .
Forrest: . . . bwoccoli? I don’t weally want that.
While watching a movie, he noticed the subtitles were turned on.
Forrest: Oh Mama!! Makes those words go away!! They are disgusting to me.






