Walking through the memories

I was walking back from my sisters this afternoon thinking about life in general and all of the things that I’m thankful for.  Too many things to count came to mind, like a home movie running through my mind, making me grin like an idiot. (People walking by probably thought I was high or crazy or on medication).

You’d think those memories were all mushy, but most of them were the ones who make me laugh out loud (which by the way doesn’t help with the crazy grinning idiot walking down the street).

So to prove I’m not crazy I thought I would share some of the things that came to my head...

Meghan with an O:

When my daughter Meghan was 2 and ½ she asked me to write out her name on a piece of paper.  Once her name was on the paper she studied the paper intently and then the conversation went something like this:

Meghan: Mommy, where is the o?

Me: There is no o in your name baby

Meghan: yes there is

Me: No honey, look there is no o in any of your name (I wrote her middle and last name next to her first name on the paper)

Meghan: Yes there is!  Where is it?!? (She was such a stubborn toddler)

Me: No there isn’t (she didn’t get her stubborn nature from her father)

Meghan: Yes there IS!

The last two lines were repeated a few dozen times, until inevitably one of us gave in...I carefully wrote an o at the end of Meghan on the paper.

So I said “there you go meghano”

She turns to me all vindicated and said “No mommy, it’s not Meghano – it’s Meghan...with an o”

Her third birthday cake said “Happy 3^rd birthday Meghano”

Logan’s lack of filter:

My son Logan is not just honest like other kids, but I swear the kid was born without one of those filters that most people have that prevents them from telling them the truth without any softening.

For instance, one time we were in the grocery store line up and a gentleman was in front of us in line.  The man looked like the stereotypical biker, with long hair, tattoos and earring, jean jacket and big black leather boots.  My lovely, innocent, four year old son pipes up “hello mister, my name is Logan, why do you have long hair, you look like a girl, and why did you colour all over your arm, did your mom get mad? And what’s that in your ear, you sure look funny”  - let me just say it’s a good thing that big burly biker had a good sense of humour and Logan was so damn cute.

My best memory of Logan’s lack of filter was when I was pregnant with my youngest son Finnegan. I was about 8 months pregnant and for a lack of a better term – huge.

Logan came into the bathroom one morning when I was getting ready for work, hesitated and then said...

“Mama? ...I’m not gonna tell you that you’re big and fat...even if you are.  ‘cause that’s not nice”.  He looked at me so proudly, patted my tummy and strutted away like a hero. 

I sat there for a minute not sure if I should laugh or cry.  Again, it’s a good thing that boy is so damn cute.

Scott – the terrible apologizer:

I love my husband and he is a great man and a good father, and I am thankful for all of those things, but to be honest he SUCKS at apologies.

Let me give you an example...

One Saturday afternoon we had gone out and done fun and exciting stuff (if you consider grocery shopping an adventure) and we had just come home.  We were putting away the groceries.  Scott was in the kitchen and I was putting toiletries away.  I came downstairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen just as Scott pulled open the fridge.

Fridge connected with my funny bone and I yelped out in pain.  MY husband looks at me and instead of saying what most people would l say (“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come around the corner, are you ok?”) he states:

“Well I wouldn’t have hit you with the fridge door if you hadn’t come around the corner and walked into it!”

Ummm....

I laugh about it now but I was a little irritated with him at the time.  It’s like the when you force a kid to apologize for calling their sibling stupid and they something like “I’m sorry you’re stupid”

Finnegan and the chocolate syrup:

Finnegan is my youngest son and he makes me laugh all the time, with his great dance moves, his monkey like cuddles and his evil brain.  Finnegan is one of those children that figures things out quickly and who you could never fool by hiding an object.  Most babies/toddlers when you took something out of sight, would quickly forget about that item and move on.  Not my son, he would wait until I left the room, pull a chair over to wherever I had stashed said item and retrieve it when nobody was looking.

It reminds me of a time that daddy was in charge (you know by this very sentence it probably didn’t end well).  I came home from work one afternoon, pulled into our parking spot, glad to be home.  I got out of the van, put my key in the lock and swung open the door.  Standing in the doorway of the kitchen was Finnegan, wearing a diaper, a giant ear to ear grin and chocolate syrup.  I don’t mean a little bit of chocolate syrup, but an entire giant bottle of Nestle Quick chocolate syrup poured out onto the floor, and then painted onto said toddler, in every crease and every inch of skin.  There were also many chocolate foot prints in the kitchen, hallway and down the stairs (which are carpeted) to the rec room.

Where was daddy through all of this you ask?  He had fallen asleep.  Needless to say daddy got rudely awakened by me yelling his name in my “not happy” voice.

So you see why I must have looked like a crazy person walking, thinking about the above memories, laughing, then frowning in turn.

I am thankful for many things, including my husband, my children, the people in my life that make me who I am.  I’m also thankful for having the kind of sense of humour that keeps me laughing out loud and scaring unsuspecting passersby.

Happy thanksgiving world and thank you for giving me cause to laugh.

Shan