Hey kid! Do you ever stop talking?

I've compiled a small list of the shit my 3 year old son says damn near on a daily basis.

I'm not the normal kind of girl who likes to talk very much.  I have so many things going on in my head at all times that there isn't much to say out loud.

My son is a different though, he says everything and anything that is on his mind.

When Andrew talks to me he expects an answer.  A normal grunt from Mommy will not suffice it either.

I think he gets that shit from his father.  He talks more than any man I've ever met.

Andrew will also keep repeating himself over and over until I've acknowledged that he's made a statement or asked me a question that seriously I have to stop and think if he really just said that!



1.  My balls are wet Mama
     Um, Okay that's weird!

2.  Does Spiderman get wedgies?
     I have no freaking idea!

3.  Smell my hand
     What the shit Andrew, I'm not smelling your hand!

4.  I gonna punch Dora in the face
     Whoops not supposed to laugh at that. We don't say punch Andrew!

5.  Trust me.. just trust me
      Yeah, I've heard that one before.

6.  I like when you dance mama, you look like chicken. 
     Great, nice to know. Thanks!

7.  Does my hair look like noodles?
     What? No your hair does not look like noodles!

8.  Daddy can I use your lipstick?
     It's not lipstick Andrew. It's Chap-Stick - Daddy

9.  Why does my butt hole itch?
     Eww! I don't know.. Is that why you asked me to smell your hand?

10. I gonna punch Mickey Mouse.
      HeHe! Oops. Not nice Andrew.

11. Sorry Mama, I peed on the shower curtain
      Again!?! Really!! What the hell!!

12. When I get big can I say bad words?
       No, you may not!

13. You freakin' me out!
      Where the hell did you hear that?

14. Today is the perfect day to kill ants.
       Great! Is also a perfect day for a nap!

15. Look Mama, my weenie is big.
      Dammit Andrew, keep your hands out of your pants!

16. I gonna punch Blues Clues!
      Yeah, me too!

17.  Mama, Sissy breaf is stinky!
        Well, then don't smell it.

18.  Is Daddy's weenie big like mine?
       HeHe... Yep sure is!



What I find fucking hilarious is that Andrew asks me all of these questions and more during the day.  Sometimes, Andrew will ask Chris a random question just like above. Chris will automatically look at me like;  Are you kidding me? Is he really asking me this?
Yep, he sure is..answer your son!


Thanks for reading.

xoxo

Reflection

She couldn’t help but to notice her own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
It’s not as if she avoids her clone, she often looks but she does not want to see.  She doesn’t want to see the pain that she feels everyday.

She stops and leans closer to the piece of glass.  She can barely recognize the woman looking back at her.

Her green eyes aren’t as bright as they used to be.  The sparkle that had once resided faded immediately.

People used to say that they could see her soul glowing through her eyes.

What do they see now?

She knows it isn’t completely dark.  However, there are shadows that gloom with in her.

Her mind rushes back to a memory of what her eyes and soul used to look like before her life changed forever.

As the memory fades, she forces herself to open her eyes. She glares at the single tear that skims down her pale face.

The pain has certainly taken a toll on her appearance, not only her eyes also her face and her hair.  She used to love her hair.  She runs her fingers through her hair; it isn’t as soft as it was.  The color no longer has the coppery under tone.  It is bleak and lifeless just like her mood.

She strokes her hollow cheek where it once glistened with beautiful color.
The color of love the color of life.

She rubs over and over hoping to scrub away the lifeless feeling.  She feels nothing only numbness.

Her slender hand slides down to her chest, she closes her eyes to concentrate on the sound.  She can no longer feel it, she has to listen.  The trench that once held her heart is empty.  It beats only because it has to; her mind forces it to keep going.  She knows it trembles with every passing day.

She steps back from the mirror; taking a deep breath, she wipes away the single tear.

She gave herself one year, one year to be what she felt.

Today, marks the one-year point, she gives herself a small but sincere smile.

The doorbell rings, it awakens the woman she no longer wants to be.

(This post is purely fictional)