Adam: "Addison, shouldn't you be cleaning your room?"
Addison: "But I just want to drum on your belly for a bit"

 

Me: "Bryce, what makes me a worse parent?...."

 

Bryce: "You...having this conversation with me."

 

Gotta love role reversal with the 10 year old.

 

Bryce's Advice

"If I were you Kaelyn, I'd just talk about it now.  That way, you don't have to talk about it with Daddy." - After a long day of meltdowns while Adam is out of town.

Bryce's Advice:

Don't park under a tree during migrating season.

Kaelyn: Mommy, Liam told me a secret. 

Me: oh yeah?

Kaelyn: Yeah, he has crushes on me.

Me: Oh really?  What does that mean?

Kaelyn: I don't know, because I just ran from him.

Adam: Keep on running.

So...I'm Sleeping on the Couch Tonight...Foweel

I'll never forget the first time Bryce came to my rescue.  He was four years old, and as I spotted a spider crawling up my wall, I yelled for him to get me a shoe.  I couldn't get myself a shoe...we all know what happens when you take your eyes off a spider.  Completely confused, he came running in, and then smashed the spider with his bare hand.  "What's the big deal mommy, it's only a spider,"  he said half relieved/half confused as to why something so minimal sent me into a panic.

As I was picking up laundry tonight, something scurried across my floor under another piece of clothing.  I quickly did what I always do, and called for Bryce.  He came running in, I picked up the piece of clothing, and the "thing" quickly dashed under my bed.

Bryce: Quick, get me a flashlight.

Cue an Adam Story:

My pack rat/gear hoarding husband has a million "high quality" flashlights that he's accumulated over the years.  Apparently, high quality means rechargable, and none of them are ever charged...  Which is why I don't even bother trying to make them work anymore.  We had a power outage yesterday, and I completely ignored the FIVE flashlights in my nightstand and lit a few candles.

Kaelyn, also ignoring the flashlights, came to Bryce's rescue with some light-up toy from Disneyland, but they still could not find the lizard under my bed.  

The conversation that followed went something like this:

Bryce: When you said it was fast, I thought, "Duh, German Cockroach," but it was definitely some sort of lizard.

(Well, DUH! who doesn't think about German Cockroaches at a time like this?)

Me: Wasn't it just like the lizards you were playing with in the backyard the other day?

(You, know...the HARMLESS ones)

Bryce: No.  It's an unknown species, and I thought I knew all lizard species.  

(True story.  Not only does he own countless books, but he's an Animal Planet enthusiast.)

Bryce: Why were you so scared of it anyway?

Me: Because I didn't know what it was.

Bryce: That makes sense.  Plus it was small.  And many small creatures are extremely venomous.

So hopefully, this small, venomous lizard of an unknown species does not come and eat me tonight in my sleep!

Since Adam has been home, he's been helping a lot with the child raising situation...giving me somewhat of a "break."  Every Tuesday, Bryce comes home with his Tuesday Communication Folder.  All of the paperwork is distributed then, and you sign stating that you've received it.  Adam has signed it two Tuesday's in a row, and needless to say, it hasn't gone off without a hitch.

We spent the past few days in the mountains of California celebrating a great friend's wedding, and have had virtually no cell phone reception or internet.  Occasionally, my phone will beep, and I can read emails.  I got one from Bryce's teacher stating that he's missing a permission slip for a field trip, and that it was due that day.  Since we were in California, that was pretty impossible.  I told Adam that he better find a way to contact her, and then went on with the wedding day festivities.

Fast forward to tonight:

As I'm catching up on my emails, Adam asks if I'm almost done...

Me: Almost.  Let me just email Bryce's teacher about the field trip.  Actually, why don't you email her?

Adam: Nope.  I already left her an intoxicated voicemail at the wedding.  

As is the story of my life...