Posts Tagged ‘Rollieisms’

Merry Christmas. Hope You Don’t Die.

Tuesday, December 14th, 2010

This is so sweet and earnest and honest, in a heartbreaking way, that I wanted to document it here in on Dogwood Girl, even though Todd already posted it on Facebook.

Todd:

At Cub Scouts last night, the boys made Xmas cards to send to troops overseas…I look away for a couple minutes, and R has written “Merry Christmas, I hope you don’t die”….took some gentle coaxing to get him to change it….

Of course, it is also very funny, too. The story is slightly funnier when Todd tells it in person: Evidently, some of the other kids were struggling with the concept of war, and saying things like, “They use guns. I can draw a gun on my card!” and one kid, who has been watching WWII documentaries (?), wanted to draw a Japanese Rising Sun flag on one of his cards.

We were trying to decide if a soldier would bust out laughing upon reading Rollie’s, or burst into tears. I am guessing there is a fine line between laughter and fear and sadness over there, and it might elicit a little of both.

But, really, isn’t Rollie right, if not exactly tactful? (Not sure where he gets that from.) Don’t we want them to have a Merry Christmas, and not die? I guess I’d probably add that I want them to come home safe to their families. I can’t help but think that their own fathers might have been helping them write cards to soldiers just ten years ago, too. And I can’t help but think of the constant fear their mothers must be in every moment of the day.

Merry Christmas to all those serving our country this year. And to their mamas and daddies.

Impressionism

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010

Me: Did you have Discovery today?
R: No, we had art.
Me: Oh, what did you do?
R: We watched a movie about Claude Monet. He’s an Impressionist.
Me: What is “Impressionism,” again?
Rollie: It’s art that impresses people.

Rollie’s Homework Funny

Saturday, March 6th, 2010

poop

I managed to hold it together long enough to tell him that it was inappropriate to write things like this on schoolwork, but it took some willpower.

Bedtime Cheer: Discussions of Aging and Death

Friday, February 12th, 2010

I tucked Tiller in the other night, then went into tuck Rollie in. He was reading a book, with it propped on his legs, and with a pillow behind his head.
“Night baby,” i said.
“Night, mama.”
I kissed him on the head and got a little choked up, thinking about putting him down as a baby, and how much he has grown. Rollie noticed my tears.
“Mama, why are you crying?”
“Because I am so proud of the wonderful little boy you are growing up to be. They are happy tears.”
Rollie made a face that told me that he was a bit skeptical about “happy tears.”
“Mama,” he said, “Don’t worry. I am not going to die for a long time.”

There is something about hearing my child talk about his own death that just chills me to the bone, but I don’t let them see that.
“I know that baby. Most children end up living long lives.” I’m not going to totally shield them from the harsh realities of life, either.
I kissed him again, and gave him a hug an walked towards his door.
“Mama?”
“Yes, Rollie. . .” I turned towards him, expecting the usual, “i need a glass of water/potty/medicine” stalling tactics.
“Mama, one day i will have kids and you will be a grandma.”

Boy, kid, you really know how to cheer a girl up at bedtime.

A Picture Says a Thousand Words

Thursday, September 24th, 2009

And this one pretty much sums up the kind of day I had. . . .

"Mama? I used the scissors to cut my hair."

What Are People For?

Sunday, May 31st, 2009

Dash spent the night with us last night, while Lisa went to our friend Alexis’ wedding to create a horrendous Sunday morning hangover with old friends. Dash and the kids were up early this morning. I let Todd sleep in, as he had partied with neighbors until the wee hours of the morning. So, i was wrangling my now very mobile nephew (He’s going for the stairs! He’s going for the dog’s bowl! He’s juggling knives!), keeping Malex the Pup from chewing everything in his way, and attempting to make Mama some coffee, all the while fielding the constant barrage of questions, interspersed with their own brand of commentary, that a three and five-year old will throw at us in the mornings.

What are we having for breakfast? Can we have blueberry pancakes and eggs and apples with peanut butter? We don’t have milk. We should have juice. We can have water, but if we have the water the juice will have to be watermelon. Can I smell that coffee? Dash is funny. Who is the Birdiest of the birds? And so on. The coffee continues to drip in slow motion, not nearly fast enough to save me.

“Mama?” Rollie says, “What are people for?”
I look at him blankly.
“Huh?”
“What are people for?” he says again, a serious and thoughtful look on his face, his morning hair mussed.

Todd received Wendell Berry’s essay collection What Are People For? for Christmas, and I have been reading it, ahem. . in the bathroom for a few months. I thought, well, maybe Rollie read the title of the book.

“That’s a good question, baby,” I said. Damn it, coffee! Drip! For the love of God, drip!

“I mean, like, what are people for? Why did God make them?”

Since he started school this past year, he has started describing things using the word, “Like.” It makes him sound like a complete and total dumbass teenager. It is driving me crazy.

“Well, baby, that is an awesome question. In fact, people have been asking that question for a couple thousand years, and taking years and whole books to answer it. No one has really answered it. And I can’t begin to talk about it without my coffee. We’ll talk about it this afternoon, okay?”

I was astounded. Holy crap. Not enough coffee in the world.

Plus: Superfluous Mama needs coffee song. . .

Home Sweet Home

Tuesday, May 26th, 2009

Thank God. We are home as of about an hour ago. I feel like I am on tour with Allman Brothers in the 70’s or something. “On the Road Again” has been stuck in my head for days. I put over 700 miles on the car this week. Went down to meet mom and Dad at the hospital in Macon on Tuesday. Drove to Warner Robins that night. Spent the night. Wednesday, drove to the hospital to see Dad then drove back to Atlanta to pack some clothes, pick up the dog, and check on the kids and my Mother-in-law. (Oh, and kiss my husband before he left for Anchorage the following morning.) Drove back to Warner Robins Wednesday night. Went to bed at 11. Got up at 4 a.m., in time to go with mom and lisa to hospital in Macon before Dad’s surgery at 6 a.m. Sat around hospital all that day til they put him in ICU and said he wasn’t gonna die in the next couple of hours. Left Lisa at the hospital and drove my mom back to Warner Robins. Turned around and drove back to macon to be with sis. Saw Dad. Went back to WR with Lisa for dinner, a glass of wine, Xanax, and bed. (Hotel Virginia is awesome: Before bed, everyone got a glass of wine, a Xanax and a hot bath before putting on jammies and retiring to our respective bedrooms, with our dogs lying by our sides and each of us reading books til we fall asleep.)
Got up, went to hospital in Macon. Stayed with Dad for a while, then went on a search for men’s pajamas for Daddy, button front (NOT drawstring) and with matching top. They evidently do not make those anymore – Just the PJs bottoms with drawstrings, and coordinating t-shirts. I went three places. No dice. Gave up and went to bookstore and bought whole Sookie Stackhouse box set instead. Went home, and went to bed. Next morning, got up and packed all three dogs (Quint, Emily, and Malex) and took them to the lake, because i thought their wrestling in the house and the constant barking might give Mom the big one. Drove over to Milledgeville.

Got to the lake and realized how very bad Dad must have been feeling before his surgery; the weeds up by the road and the grass around the house were knee-high. I have never in my life seen that yard not mowed weekly, sometimes more during warm weather. I mowed and cut back some shrubbery that was getting out of control.

Let the dogs go free the weekend, romping in the water, rolling around in dead fish, playing with the country dogs always coming by to see us. At one point, I had eight dogs running around the front yard and in the lake: Our three, two chocolate labs (Josie and Choco – v. original), one unnamed poodle, two yellow labs, one of which they call Lego, but whose name is Legolas (v.literary for Milledgeville) and a pug named Lulu. Oh, that’s nine. Anyway, it was mayhem and it made me happy. It poured down in the afternoon and i sat on the porch and read my vampire book.

Lisa and Dash came down the next morning. I finished the last of the lawn, then we took the boat and the Seadoo out. It was relaxing to get out on the water and cut up on the seadoo and i knew Dad wished he could be there. V. few Memorial Days have I spent with neither my Dad or my husband. Definitely the first one i have ever spent with just my sister and my nephew.

Packed up yesterday morning. Drove to Macon, then to Columbus. If I ever bitch about how boring 16 is, just tell me to shut up and remember the poor people who have to drive from Macon to Columbus. I defy anyone to come up with a more boring drive. From Columbus, cut over to Opelika, then Dadeville to get the kids at my in-laws’. Spent the night over there (decided against driving back to Atlanta for two hours, in what would surely have turned into an 85-roadwork+Memorial-Day-Traffic clusterfuck of monumental proportion). I did get to hang out with my brother-in-law and my niece, Luci, who is cute as can be, and was so fun to watch with Rollie and tiller. They are all old enough now to play with each other and she and Tiller even got into a few arguments with one another. Good times!

Drove back this morning. Had fun discussion with Rollie in car:

R: “Mama, I want to move to Alabama, so that I can go to Sunday School.”
Me: [Laughing out loud.] “Baby, they have Sunday School in Georgia, too. What did y’all talk about in Sunday School.”
R: “We learned about this guy, his name starts with a D.”
Me: “David? Daniel?”
R: “There were three guys and they didn’t like the guy with the D name, so they tried to kill him.”
Me: “Um, okay, can you tell me more? Who else was there?”
R: “Knights and guys on horses.”
Me: “And what happened?”
R: “Well, the d guy, he had a plan. Also, the other two guys had a plan also. God was going to save them from being killed.”

This went on and on for about ten minutes, me trying to figure out what the heck bible story they had taught him, and him getting frustrated because I kept asking questions. Still haven’t figured this one out. Also haven’t decided if all the learning about people being killed is so great either.

Got back home. My garden is growing like gangbusters.

Oh, and Dad went home yesterday. He is driving me crazy, calling every few hours to check on us, tell us things that need to be done (wash the dog, mow the lawn, how is my garden? Don’t forget to fertilize it) and then waiting until we are midsentence in reply, and saying, “bye bye!” and click, he hangs up on us.

Love, Happy to be Home Dogwood

God, I Needed That

Monday, May 11th, 2009

Rollie just walked in the house. I was bracing for “I’m hungry,” “Tiller destroyed your flowers!” or something along those lines. I was not prepared for:

“Mama, do you want me to show you how to do the Macarena? Gracie knows how to do the Macarena and she taught me.”

[Stifling a laugh.] “Uh, Yeah!”

He proceeds to do the Macarena, including the little hands on hips hipshake part, once in each direction.

North. South. East. West.

The look of concentration on his face was the best part. He even messed up once and grunted and made a face and started over again. I don’t think he even knows that there is music that goes with the dance.

And he will not. Ever.

Dogwood Girl and The Black Hearts

Monday, May 4th, 2009

Rollie and Tiller were acting up in the bathtub tonight. I got them out immediately (they usually get to play for a while) and Rollie stood shivering in his towel, lower lip quivering, and told me, “You don’t love me at all! You never loved me! You don’t have a red heart, you have a black heart!”

“Baby, where did you come up with that?”

“I don’t know, red is love and black is hate!” he yelled.

“I love you no matter what you do, and no matter how much i don’t love your behavior, Rollie,” i said, pulling the towel over his head like a hood and looking into his eyes. “Now go put on your PJs.”

Later, in his room, when he found out that he lost his bedtime story due to his behavior, he threw a tantrum. I told him to get into his bed. I said, “Night night, baby. I love you very much.”

Still angry with me, he pulled away from my kiss on his head and sputtered, “You have a . . a thousand, thousand black hearts!”

I struggled not to laugh or smile. Laughing at bad behavior is a parenting no-no. But in my blackest heart of hearts, I was so very bewitched by the poetry of my son telling me off.

On Mom: By Rollie and Tiller

Sunday, April 19th, 2009

I think that this was supposed to make my kids look awesomely creative and fun. It made them look boring.

Ask your child(ren) these questions and enter their answers…Quite amusing!

Tiller (3)

1. What is something Mom always says to you?
I don’t know.

2. What makes Mom happy?
Being nice.

3. What makes Mom sad?

I don’t remember.

4. How does your Mom make you laugh?
Tickling me.

5. What was your Mom like as a child?
I don’t know.

6. How old is your Mom?

I don’t know some of the answers.

7. How tall is your Mom?
I don’t know.

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
I don’t know.

9. What does your Mom do when you’re not around?
WAtch tv.

10. If your Mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
I don’t know.

11. What is your Mom really good at?
She’s good at games.

12. What is your Mom not very good at?
I don’t know.

13. What does your Mom do for a job?
Help

14.What is your Mom’s favorite food?
I don’t know.

15.What makes you proud of your Mom?
I don’t know.

16. If your Mom were a TV character, who would she be?

I don’t think i know.

17. What do you and your Mom do together?
Go somewhere together.

18. How are you and your Mom the same?
I don’t know. Do you know.

19. How are you and your Mom different?
Because sometimes you don’t wear the same shirts.

20. How do you know your Mom loves you?
Hugging.

21. What does your Mom like most about you?
I don’t know.

22. Where is your Mom’s favorite place to go?
Chick-fil-a.

Ask your child(ren) these questions and enter their answers…Quite amusing!

Rollie (5)

1. What is something mom always says to you?
I love you.

2. What makes mom happy?
Being nice.

3. What makes Mom sad?
Being Bad

4. How does your Mom make you laugh?
Being funny.

5. What was your Mom like as a child?
A kid.

6. How old is your Mom?
36

7. How tall is your Mom?
36 inches

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
WAtching birds.

9. What does your Mom do when you’re not around?
sleep with daddy in his bed.

10. If your Mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
I don’t know what that means.

11. What is your Mom really good at?
Playing Tetris.

12. What is your Mom not very good at?
Playing scrabble.

13. What does your Mom do for a job?
Work on the roof.

14.What is your Mom’s favorite food?
spinach

15.What makes you proud of your Mom?
I love you.

16. If your Mom were a TV character, who would she be?
I don;t know.

17. What do you and your Mom do together?
Pick up me from school.

18. How are you and your Mom the same?
Because we look the same.

19. How are you and your Mom different?
Because we look different.

20. How do you know your Mom loves you?
Because I’m your son.

21. What does your Mom like most about you?
Cause I’m nice.

22. Where is your Mom’s favorite place to go?
Enzo’s