Kids say the darndest things. Mine is no exception. I remember when I was a kid and Bill Cosby had a show called Kids Say the Darndest Things. It was pretty funny then but now that I'm a perfectly imperfect mama, my perfectly imperfect daughter never ceases to amaze me with what comes out of her pre-schooler mouth. Here's a conversation we had recently that will give you yet another glimpse into our perfectly imperfect world. Oh I should mention you need a glossary to really appreciate the comedy. Tutu-yeah you're thinking about a ballet costume. Ummmm in our house it has another meaning. We refer to a girl's, um, well, you know as a tutu. This was started by my mother when I was a child, I guess her way of dressing it up and making it sound pretty. I'm just perpetuating the madness, don't judge me. Ok here's what happened immediately following her bath one night:
P.I. Daughter-"Mama, when I grow up am I gonna get a pokey tutu?"
Me-"A what??"
Her (as she rolled her miniature eyes because I was apparently being dense)-"I said, a pokey tutu!"
Me (in my head)-"WTF is this child talking about? Maybe I don't really want to know.......this has the potential to not turn out well, but I'll bite."
Me(out loud)-"Umm daughter, exactly what is a pokey tutu?"
Her (clearly annoyed with my stupidity at this point)-"You know! A POKEY TUTU!!"
She then proceeded to make a fist, stick out her pointer finger, and hold it down......in front of her tutu as she wiggled her pointer finger.
I almost choked!!
Me-"Daughter, where did you see a pokey tutu?"
Her-"Oh all the boys at my school have them, so am I gonna get one too?"
Now I'm ready to faint because I'm having visions of these pre-schoolers playing doctor and rounds of show me yours and I'll show you mine. Seriously, I have to deal with this NOW??!!
Me-"Umm,how did you see the boys' pokey tutus? Did they show them to you?"
Her-"Well, no but when they go potty they stand there and wiggle them and all the girls can see them."
*Sidenote, this is pre-school, there are 4 stalls in the bathroom, but no doors.
Me (in my head)- "Thank God! I thought I was gonna have to go up to that school and raise the roof off that joint!!"
Her-"You still didn't answer my question, am I gonna get one?"
Me (between failed attempts to stifle the laughter and snorting coming from me)-"No honey,you're not going to get one. And it's not called a pokey tutu, it's called a penis, only boys have them. Stop watching the boys go potty."
Me(again in my head)-"If it was up to me you'd NEVER see one!!"
Her-"Aww man.......I think pokey tutus are funny. I wish I could get one."
Me (in my head)- "End this madness NOW!"
Me- "Well you're not. Now put on your jamma suit (with the feet in them), finish watching Backyardigans, and get ready for bedtime!"
Her-"Fine Mama. I was just asking you a question."
Me (in my head)- "How many more months until the next perfectly imperfect daughter arrives and I can have a glass of wine? I sure could use a glass of Reisling right now!!"
Instead I settled for a bowl of ice cream as I laughed my you know what off the rest of the might. Pokey tutu. They say the darndest things.............
Friday, February 11, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
It Wasn't Me Officer.......It Was The Dog!
My Perfectly Imperfect Pooch has comitted his fair share of crimes in his short 6 1/2 year life. He's done a little bit of everything from stealing my grandmother's dentures out of her purse and wearing them like he had an ear of corn waiting for him to gnaw on to stealing ALL of the Valentine's Day candy given to me by my students, unwrapping the cellophane and eating the Russell Stovers one by one. He's even stolen a Giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup out of a Christmas stocking and eaten it under the bed. Once we caught him with chicken bones sucking the marrow and crunching on the gristle. You get the point, he's a bit of a fugitive.
Recently however he's been moonlighting as a cat burglar. Twice in the last week I've gotten phone calls from a number I didn't recognize followed by frantic phone calls from my mother. "Perfectly Imperfect Mama" she's yelled through my iPhone, "Get home now! Your alarm is going off and the police are at your house!" Both times I've jumped into my Perfectly Imperfect Mama Mobile, otherwise known as....the SUV (only a few years old and covered in Cheerios, old french fries, empty juice boxes, crayons and probably a little vomit that didn't get all the way cleaned up after last year's birthday cake debacle), and driven like a bat out of Hell to get to my Perfectly Imperfect Suburban Haven, otherwise known as......the townhouse. I arrive to find the township police surrounding my house, looking in windows and checking for signs of forced entry. Meanwhile P.I. Pooch is in the upstairs window barking like he caught an intruder himself. Each time I've had to have the house checked from top to bottom just to find that nothing's out of place. WTH is going on??
Thankfully the officers haven't charged me a false alarm fee, but I know they want to. I racked my brain trying to figure out what was setting the alarm off.......then it hit me. P.I. Pooch is the culprit! When the motion sensors were installed we were told he wasn't big enough to set off the alarms. He weighs all of 20 lbs. About 8 lbs of that is hair, 7 lbs of it is stolen food and treats, and the remaining 5 lbs is actual dog. Guess they were wrong.
If he sets the alarm off again, he's getting a job to pay for the impending fees. Hell, I should probably make him get a job anyway to pay for his organic food, mobile dog groomer, and 'well dog' visits at the vet. How much can he get paid an hour for sleeping and looking cute? Just a thought............
-Perfectly Imperfect Mama
Recently however he's been moonlighting as a cat burglar. Twice in the last week I've gotten phone calls from a number I didn't recognize followed by frantic phone calls from my mother. "Perfectly Imperfect Mama" she's yelled through my iPhone, "Get home now! Your alarm is going off and the police are at your house!" Both times I've jumped into my Perfectly Imperfect Mama Mobile, otherwise known as....the SUV (only a few years old and covered in Cheerios, old french fries, empty juice boxes, crayons and probably a little vomit that didn't get all the way cleaned up after last year's birthday cake debacle), and driven like a bat out of Hell to get to my Perfectly Imperfect Suburban Haven, otherwise known as......the townhouse. I arrive to find the township police surrounding my house, looking in windows and checking for signs of forced entry. Meanwhile P.I. Pooch is in the upstairs window barking like he caught an intruder himself. Each time I've had to have the house checked from top to bottom just to find that nothing's out of place. WTH is going on??
Thankfully the officers haven't charged me a false alarm fee, but I know they want to. I racked my brain trying to figure out what was setting the alarm off.......then it hit me. P.I. Pooch is the culprit! When the motion sensors were installed we were told he wasn't big enough to set off the alarms. He weighs all of 20 lbs. About 8 lbs of that is hair, 7 lbs of it is stolen food and treats, and the remaining 5 lbs is actual dog. Guess they were wrong.
If he sets the alarm off again, he's getting a job to pay for the impending fees. Hell, I should probably make him get a job anyway to pay for his organic food, mobile dog groomer, and 'well dog' visits at the vet. How much can he get paid an hour for sleeping and looking cute? Just a thought............
-Perfectly Imperfect Mama
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Who Am I?
I'm sure you're wondering just who the heck is this Perfectly Imperfect Mama chick and why is she blogging? I could name quite a few Mamas who fit this description but I'll stick to myself. I'm a 30 something wife, mother of 2 (almost, new baby is due in the spring), elementary school teacher ( so I'm also an unofficial counselor, nurse, nutritionist, cheerleader, stylist, confidant, surrogate, and countless other *ists), shopaholic, newbie naturalista who's still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up. I decided to join the already densely populated blogosphere to essentially help me decide just that, what I want to be when I grow up. Writing is therapeutic, and writing about this perfectly imperfect journey called motherhood and wifedom is damn near cathartic. I hope to provide readers (friends in my head) with some information, mixed with some laughs, sprinkled with a few anecdotes, laced with the comfort of knowing your kid is not the only one who dances naked in front of the mirror. Your husband is not the only one who NEVER remembers to take out the trash. Your dog is not the only one who pees on the carpet so much you have to have your floors replaced. You're not the only one trying to be a Perfect Mama and slowly coming to the realization that that chick only existed on TV about 50 years ago and her son had a nickname after a pond dweller.
This journey called parenthood is perfectly imperfect. I am a Perfectly Imperfect Mama, married to a Perfectly Imperfect Papa, raising a Perfectly Imperfect Pre-Schooler, incubating a Perfectly Imperfect baby (only because the new baby is given me heartburn so bad I want stock in an antacid company), and 'raising' a Perfectly Imperfect Pooch. I wouldn't trade it for the world, although sometimes I would like to run screaming for the hills and wish those old Calgon commercials were real........I digress :) My family is pretty awesome, even when they set the alarms off and protest about having tacos for dinner, again.
I must thank my cousin in this first post for inspiring the name of my blog. I sound like I should be holding a golden statue in my hand and wearing a couture gown....... She uses a variation of Perfectly Imperfect as an online screen name and as I was thinking of a name for my blog, I thought how perfect is Perfectly Imperfect for what we Mama's feel everyday??? Thanks cousin!!
Ok so now that I've gotten the longest blog intro ever completed and you my reader are officially a friend in my head, let the journey begin! My intention is to post often, as in weekly at least. But let us remember, I'm perfectly imperfect just like everyone else. If you have comments, feedback, suggestions or questions (no hate mail please you will soon find I'm extremely outspoken and opinionated) please post them. I look forward to hearing from you and to figuring out how to be a Perfectly Imperfect Mama in a Perfectly Imperfect World. Oh yeah, and to figuring out just what I want to be when I grow up..........
-Perfectly Imperfect Mama (P.I.M.)
This journey called parenthood is perfectly imperfect. I am a Perfectly Imperfect Mama, married to a Perfectly Imperfect Papa, raising a Perfectly Imperfect Pre-Schooler, incubating a Perfectly Imperfect baby (only because the new baby is given me heartburn so bad I want stock in an antacid company), and 'raising' a Perfectly Imperfect Pooch. I wouldn't trade it for the world, although sometimes I would like to run screaming for the hills and wish those old Calgon commercials were real........I digress :) My family is pretty awesome, even when they set the alarms off and protest about having tacos for dinner, again.
I must thank my cousin in this first post for inspiring the name of my blog. I sound like I should be holding a golden statue in my hand and wearing a couture gown....... She uses a variation of Perfectly Imperfect as an online screen name and as I was thinking of a name for my blog, I thought how perfect is Perfectly Imperfect for what we Mama's feel everyday??? Thanks cousin!!
Ok so now that I've gotten the longest blog intro ever completed and you my reader are officially a friend in my head, let the journey begin! My intention is to post often, as in weekly at least. But let us remember, I'm perfectly imperfect just like everyone else. If you have comments, feedback, suggestions or questions (no hate mail please you will soon find I'm extremely outspoken and opinionated) please post them. I look forward to hearing from you and to figuring out how to be a Perfectly Imperfect Mama in a Perfectly Imperfect World. Oh yeah, and to figuring out just what I want to be when I grow up..........
-Perfectly Imperfect Mama (P.I.M.)
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