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Clark’s Talents

17 Jul


So last week, in an attempt to maintain my sanity, the kids got to go to Bible Art Camp, which was sponsored by the church that also sponsors their preschool. Meredith loved it (she also really doesn’t seem to get that school is primarily for learning and not for hanging out with friends). This picture of her showed up in the local newspaper:


Clark, on the other hand, had a rough time getting excited about it. He’s always been kind of a home-body, even when he was just a baby. When I was trying to convince him to go on the second day, he said, “Mom, they want me to paint! I don’t like painting! They want me to sing. That is not one of my talents.” He’s got it pretty rough.


>Until We’re 100% Settled…

8 Mar

>We’re just about settled. I haven’t taken any pictures yet–maybe tomorrow, right? Until then, here are a few kidisms to tide you over.

Meredith was giving a very stern lecture to someone on her pretend phone the other day. I couldn’t make out 90% of what she was saying, but there was some yelling and a lot of “I TOLD you!” going on. I asked her who she was talking to and she said, “Grandma.” Grandma, I don’t know what you’ve done to deserve this, but I’m glad it’s not me!

Clark: Mom, how does Cheer get your clothes brighter in just one wash?

Kate: Clark, you’d better get ready to go!! We’re going somewhere really exciting! [We weren’t. It was more along the lines of the storage unit.]

Clark: Oooh, oooh!! Is it Chik-Fil-A? [Yeah, we haven’t been to Chik-Fil-A since I was about 3 1/2 months pregnant with Meredith and he was still riding in a stroller. Natalie Pyles, I think you were there.

We just got done having a good giggle and he sighed and said, “Good times, good times.”

I went to register him for Kindergarten today, but I forgot his shot record. I think I’m subconsciously trying to keep him from growing up any more than he already has.

>I’m Not Sure That’s in His Job Description…

27 Jul

>Tonight, Clark was putting his toothbrush back in the cupboard above the toilet and fell off and hurt his wrist. When I asked him what happened, he told me he thought the Holy Ghost pushed him off the toilet.

>A Little Talk…

19 Mar

>Okay, first of all, if you’re reading this through a feed like Google Reader, you have to come to my actual blog and see my new, cute header I made whilst tutoring this afternoon!

Secondly, we dropped nearly $700 on registering our cars in Louisiana today. This state sucks. Fortunately, I had the nicest DMV worker ever helping me today, which made the whole experience slightly less painful. Also, it’s only $20 to renew your tags, and you only have to do that every other year. So I guess it could suck worse.

While we were at the DMV, in an attempt to distract Clark, I let him hold our ticket and convinced him it was a valuable treasure that he could keep forever. And it worked. Well, right before it was our turn, he had to go to the bathroom, but the only available restroom was the men’s room, so I couldn’t go in with him. When I checked on him, I saw a soaking wet ticket, wet hands, and a look of despair on his face–that’s right, the ticket had fallen in the toilet and I had done SUCH a good job of convincing my child that it was valuable that even he, Mr. OCD, reached in the toilet and grabbed the ticket.

Finally, Clark and I had quite the conversation last night when we stopped at Wendy’s dollar menu after running some errands.

Kate: I don’t think we’re ever going to get our food. They probably hate us.
Clark: Mom, what did you just say?
Kate: What do you mean?
Clark: Mom, did you say a bad word?
Kate: No.
Clark: You did. You said [whispering] “hate.”
Kate: Oh, I guess I did. I’m sorry.
Clark: Mom, when we get home, we’re going to have a little talk about saying bad words.
Kate: Oh, we are?
Clark: Okay, we’re going to have a little talk right now about saying bad words. Mom, we don’t say bad words. We don’t say “stupid” or “hate” or–
Sam: [Interjecting laughter]
Clark: Excuse me, Dad, I’m having a little talk with mom about bad words. Mom, we don’t say “stupid” or “hate” or the bad “Oh, my gosh.” We say “I love you” and “thank you” and “holy moley” and “you look very cute today.” Mom, are you sorry for saying bad words?
Kate: I am.

I wasn’t really.

>Dose of Clark for the Day

25 Feb

>Yesterday, Clark was really on one with his Clarkisms! Here are a few:

Kate: Clark, for the last time, get in your carseat.
Clark: Mom, you are so grounded.

There was also a conversation between Clark and Sam about the status of Clark’s health.

Sam: You know, Clark, you’re a big guy and you can help around the house sometimes
Clark: I’m sick, Dad, I’m sick.

He was not sick.

I wish I had a recording because the way he said it was so funny–like he was a grown man in a movie announcing he had cancer or something.

Clark: What did you just take away from [Meredith]?
Kate: Mom and Dad’s I-Pods.
Clark: What about my Ear Pods?

Sam: Get yourself dried off and then we’ll put your jammies on.
Clark: I’m going to leave myself a little wet. I call myself Wet Guy.

>WHAT Kind of Jammies?

9 Jan

>Tonight, Sam was helping Clark put on his new Superman jammies that he got for Christmas.

Sam: I wish *I* had Superman jammies.

Clark: Yeah…

Sam: What other kinds of jammies do you have?

Clark: I have Superman jammies, I have racecar jammies, and I have bow-chicka-bow-wow jammies.

Sam: What?

Clark: [singing] Bow-chicka-bow-wow…

So I have RACKED my brain to figure out where he would’ve heard this and the ONLY thing I can think of was an episode of King of the Hill we watched over a year-and-a-half ago when Boomhower “sang” that.

>Dirty Thoughts…

8 Jan

>Clark: Mom, I’m thinking about something dirty.

Mom: Oh, yeah? What are you thinking about?

Clark: Mud and slime and poop.

Let’s just hope those are the only dirty thoughts he has for a loooooooong time. Like ever.

>This is What I’m Up Against…

15 Dec

>Today while waiting in line at the Kroger pharmacy for Meredith’s ear infection antibiotic (yay!) and controlled-substance cough syrup (double yay!), her My Little Pony fell out of the shopping cart. A nice lady in line behind us asked if the pony belonged to us and I thanked her, picked it up, and said, “Oh, I must’ve dropped it.” At which point, Clark sighed and said, “Why am I NOT surprised?” Funny now…we’ll see how I feel about it in another ten years.

On a completely unrelated note, I have a huge favor to ask all of you who have us listed on your blogs or websites. We live in a scary, scary world and I worry about striking that right balance of putting myself out there and maintaining our privacy. If any of you have us listed with our last name on your blogs, could you please remove it? Thanks a bunch!

4 Nov

>Clark has a reason for not doing just about anything. Like a few weeks ago, the Bishop’s wife made him a sandwich and he wouldn’t eat it because it was too white. And it’s not like we’re militant wheat-breaders here.

So I just offered to get him a drink and this is the conversation that followed:

Mom: What would you like to drink?

Clark: I dunno…hot chocolate milk, maybe?

Mom: How about cold chocolate milk?

Clark: Cold chocolate milk hurts my brain.

>What We Watch

16 Oct

>I was just thinking today about how Clark hasn’t said anything really funny for awhile. Well, I’m pleased to announce the dry spell is over!

Generally speaking, he often talks to us like he’s another grown up. Like when we were staying at Shane and Adriann’s house after the hurricane, he went up to Adriann one day and said, “So…how’s it goin’?” Or one time I had him in the tub and he said, “So, how’s your beautiful day?”

Well, tonight, we were putting him into bed and we had the following conversation:

Clark: So, what are you guys going to do now?

Mom: I don’t know, what do you think we’re going to do?

Clark: Well, I think you’re going to go watch.

Mom: Watch what?

Clark: Well…probably Colbert…and then Arthur…then maybe Bob the Builder.

He nailed it. Every night after he goes to bed, we watch Colbert and follow it up with animated aardvarks and a claymation general contractor who pines for his assistant Wendy whose sexuality, I have to say, is something of a mystery.