Just Keepin’ It Realz, Yo

Don’t let her shirt fool you.


(Note: My daughter may only be five, but trust me, she’s clever and mature beyond her years. She talks in a matter-of-fact tone,  always with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. Like she’s way too intelligent for this conversation. And she’s usually right.)

“Hey Mom? You were the one who named your first baby, Christian, right? I really like that name. So who named your next baby–me…Julia? [pointing to herself, like I wouldn’t know who she was referring to] Oh, you did? Well, I think you did a bad job, Mom. I like Victorious instead.”


[sitting down with me at a restaurant, eating an ice cream cone]

“Mommy? Sometimes I really, really enjoy spending time with my family.”
[licks her cone and thinks for a moment]
“But lots of times, I don’t.”

(same here, O’ Wise One, same here)


“So I was in your belly once, right? Did your belly explode? Cuz I don’t ever want a baby then because my belly will explode, too.”
[patting my stomach]
“Whoa! Your belly looks like it’s gonna explode right now!”


[watching me wash my face and brush my hair in the bathroom]

“Hey, Mom? You look bad. Like, really, really bad today.”


[sneaking up behind me and grabbing my arm, squeezing it in her little hands]

“Wow! I don’t think you have any muscles in here! Where are they?”


[after I repeatedly asked her to pick up her huge mess of toys scattered about the living room]

“Hey, Mom? How ’bout this? I’m gonna close my eyes….and wave my magic wand…[slowly waves her hands in the air] and all my toys will be put away. Like magic. Just keep your eyes closed the rest of the day so you don’t seem them anymore. Got it?”

(works for me, my housework has been cut in half with this tactic)

Oh, Mother. Don’t you believe in the power of magic?


“C’mon, wake up! We’ve gotta hurry! Quick, put your shoes on and let’s go! I certainly don’t want you to be late for your first day of work! Those Big Macs won’t wait forever!”


me: “Hmm…I wonder when they’re coming back…”
him: “When who’s comin’ back?”
me: “Your parents. They said they’d be back to pick you guys up and it’s been…what…[checking watch] almost ten years?! Where are they??”


“So you’re telling me you really, really, REALLY want that Lego set? That costs about 80 bucks? And you’ll just die if I don’t buy it for you? Tell you what…you can get that Lego set…once you go out and get a job.”


“Good morning! Rise and shine! Guess what? School’s starting early this summer! Get your backpack ready or you’ll be late for the bus!


“Oh, I can’t wait until you have kids of your own! And then one day, you’ll call me up crying because your son got into your eggs and threw them all over the kitchen, then climbed up on the counter, took off his diaper and took a massive dump in your sink. Then rolled around in it and the broken eggs. Then ran outside naked on the front lawn screaming and crying with you right behind him in hot pursuit, chasing him around in circles and trying to grab onto him before the neighbors call the cops.  And when you tell me this story, through hysterical tears of exasperation, I’ll just laugh and laugh and laugh.


“Uh…yeah, see we can’t actually go to the waterslide park/bowling alley/miniture golf/arcade/toy store emporium because… they’re closed. Yeah….closed. For repairs. For the rest of your life.”

Wait! Stop! Don’t run away! Come back! I didn’t mean it, honest!

128 thoughts on “Just Keepin’ It Realz, Yo

    1. I’ve no doubt you’re right. My daughter is so verbal (meaning, she never stops talking) so the cute insults fly out of her mouth all day long. She’s just telling it like it is though…can’t fault her for that. I’ve learned to develop a pretty thick skin.

  1. Wait until they are teenagers to run away. Then they are old enough to get their own food. Otherwise you need to give them a salary for all the blogging material.

    1. Do they really get their own food? I have my doubts. I’ve watched my son pour himself some cereal and it was a disaster. I’m not sure it’s safe to let him near the toaster until he’s about 20.

      1. Even at 21 my son turns the toaster up so high that I burn my toast. He turns it up high because he likes to toast grill cheese sandwiches on top.

        We have upped our homeowner’s insurance.

    2. Elyse, that is seriously funny teen-aged behavior, toasting the cheese sandwich, that is. I am only starting to get glimpses of what is coming down the road for me…and it ain’t pretty.

      1. It remains not pretty for a while … that’s why they start out so cute, so you have something to remember when you want to strangle them in their teens.

  2. We used to tell the kids that the ice cream truck was a brocolli truck. they were really pissed when they found out otherwise.

    So your daughter stands with her hands on her hips…like…like she’s waiting for a baton to drop out of the sky?

    1. Ha! I absolutely LOVE the ice cream truck trick. You rule, Dave. I will have to test that one out on my kids this summer. mwa ha ha!

      And yeah…come to think of it…when my daughter talks like she knows EVERYthing, and puts her hands on her hips and frowns, she sure does remind me of someone…can’t quite put my finger on it…hmm….

    1. And I’m sure that that is more than enough. Just imagine a pint-sized person constantly picking out your every flaw and telling you about them. “Mom, you have so many wrinkles!” “Mom, your butt is HUGE!”

  3. Haha! I know the feeling. I have had multiple conversations with my daughter that leave me with the uneasy feeling that she has somehow sent an insult my way but delivered it in such a subtle way that it is impossible for me to really confirm it. Damn smarty pants midgets.

    1. I knew you might relate, Ape! And she always ends her insult with the sweetest little smile and even bats her eyelashes at me. For a moment, I can feel my heart crushed into a million pieces. It’s hard to take an insult from someone so adorable.

      1. I agree. In fact I take back my previous post’s suggestion of Jason Bateman to switch out old Mitt and instead recommend Punky Brewster to step up to the insult-every-friggin-nation plate.

  4. I would die if my kid said some of those things to me.



    I think I’ll go give TechSupport a hug for just being awesome. He has never said “I hate you” and he’ll be 13 in 13 days.

    Maybe that will be the day everything changes.

    I think girls are harder than boys.

    1. My son hasn’t said that to me…yet.

      Daughters are infinitely harder. I was just watching Louis C.K.’s stand-up and he basically said about the difference between men and women: a man will beat you up but a woman will destroy you from the inside. A boy might punch or kick you. But a girl will crush your spirit and your will to live.

  5. Don’t worry Darla your kids will thank you later! The best compliment I ever received was from my son when he was 16: “Gee, Mom, thanks for killing me when I was little so I wouldn’t grow up to do stupid stuff like that!” This was after hearing about his step-brother getting in trouble for doing something REALLY stupid (which is kinda normal for the step-brother).

    I of course had to point out I didn’t actually kill him since he was alive and breathing when delivered this back handed compliment, but still it warms a mother’s heart! 🙂

    1. As well it should warm your heart! I live for that day, when my son actually appreciates all the crap I gave him while he was growing up (all with tenderness and love of course) I tease because I love, that’s my motto.

  6. Amazing. Once, when I was a kid and my parents paid for dinner with a credit card, I asked, “When you use that card, does he (the waiter) assume you’ve paid?” I was all ready to bow to that piece of plastic.

  7. Here’s an account of what my mom said to me when I was five. She was cooking at home after a tiring day at work.

    Me: “Mom, I don’t want to do my homework.”
    Mom: “Alright. Don’t.”

    Fifteen minutes later…

    Me: “But everyone else will do it.”
    Mom: “That they will.”

    Fifteen minutes later…

    Me: “What if the teacher yells at me?”
    Mom: “That she might.”
    Me: “Then I’ll just do the homework.”
    Mom: “As you wish.”

    My mom has been re-telling that story for years as the day she implicitly convinced her son to do his homework. I remember it as the day I stopped asking my mom for school-related advice.

    1. Your mom is a GENIUS! Kudos to her. She sounds just like my dad was with me. One step ahead but always willing to let me figure it out and catch up. The lessons are harder but stay forever.

    1. Joe, I just know that in the future when she’s a teen, she will have her own blog. And then she’ll have sweet revenge. I really should stop using my kids as blog fodder because they will stumble upon this one day. Oh, well, what the hell…

      1. It will also be a memory fo their childhood which they’ll appreciate to, you may not be able to remember these things in years to come when you need to embarrass them in front of their friends/at a wedding speech etc.

  8. Oh, Darla, I just love your sense of humor. Funny, though, I’m never laughing when it’s MY daughter telling me how horrible I look for thing in the morning. Whenever my 10-yr-old boy asks me to do something for him, my response is always, “Have you done anything for me lately? Um, no. So, uh….NO.” I love that word…NO. It’s my favorite this week. 🙂

    1. My fave comebacks are when my kids start barking orders at me. like, “Mom! Get me milk now!” I’m always like, “Just as soon as you get me some coffee!”

      My daughter has also told me I’m as pretty as a princess before…so it all evens out. Kinda. I can’t tell when she’s lying.

      1. Oh that’s sweet! Lying or not, your daughter is the cutest thing ever. Heck — your son for that matter too. BTW, I love the new “bottom of your blog” look. Really personalizes you!

        1. Yeah, they are cute as the dickens, aren’t they? (did I just say dickens? what the hell?) Your kids are too. I find that really helps.

          Thank you, the bottom of the blog was looking kinda blah so I went for it and overdid it with the images.

    2. And girl, in case you didn’t get the memo, I’m playing the “nomination game” again. I’ve listed your blog (again) because I just love your perspective and sense of humor. Sunshine for your day, bling for your blog (which you probably already have). http://wp.me/p28k6D-yf

  9. Jeez, your kids are both mini-yous. I love the power of magic comment – that’s the best housekeeping advice I’ve ever heard! Your photos are great, too. Is that your work, Darleeta?

    1. The best part is how serious she was when she told me to just close my eyes and it will magically disappear. Like that should’ve been enough on her part.

      yesiree, those are my photos. The one of her in the black and white was when she was only barely 4 years old.

  10. First, I think your daughter is just trying to keep you humble so you don’t run off to go be a super awesome mom to some other family. Really really REALLY humble. Yeah.

    And I don’t see anything wrong with what you said to your son. At all. In fact, I’m taking notes right now and will be employing some of those very very soon with my own darling tots. Especially that parents returning one. Priceless.

      1. I bet she is! You’ve got to love how 5 year olds say whatever’s on their minds – good, bad, and funny. 🙂 And yes, that could certainly be a girl thing!

  11. Please. Mothers say terrible stuff to their kids all the time. These are nothing. Have you ever said “Get out of my sight!” to your kids? “I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day”? “You need a girdle”? My mother used to say she hoped I had three kids just like me (or possibly us). I haven’t had any. I win. (I AM in therapy, though. Hmm.) Seriously – really cute stuff from your daughter. In that “Mom, you’re hideous” way.

    1. Oh, yeah, I suppose these are tame. I have said things I’m not proud of before, (that I won’t print here) what parent hasn’t. I mean, kids are really like mini balls of terror and mayhem. Their only goal in life is to stretch your patience to the breaking point. Oh, kids! Ain’t they sweet!

  12. John Erickson

    “Not until you get a job”? Yeah, if I had a dime for every time my folks told me that, I’d OWN the freakin’ state of Ohio!
    And insinuating their REAL parents left the kids with you? I may be cruel, but I think the combo of “you look REALLY bad” and “where are the muscles in your arm” are a perfect offset. Then again, that’s why I have dogs – the worst they can say to you is “woof”! 😀

    1. John Erickson

      And am I so out of date that I use “If I had a dime” when the kids are probably saying “If I had a dollar”? You know, inflation, remembering gas for less than $1 a gallon, change back from a Big Mac…… typical “old fart” dom. 😀

      1. John Erickson

        Um… SkyLARK, or SkyHAWK? (They made both.) If it was a Skyhawk, it’s the twin of my beloved Cavalier, called a “J-body” in GM speak. Skylarks were bigger, the twins of either the Celebrity or the Pontiac Bonneville, if memory serves.
        I remember giving my Cavalier premium gas, until premium went over a dollar a gallon, then I switched to mid grade until that went over $1, then to base. She’s a 1987, I still have her, and in the ultimate of heart-breaking ironies, she may end up being the “parts car” for the parts car I bought for her! (We picked up a battered 1987 really cheap a few years ago, with the idea of resurrecting my car, which had the ENTIRE main wiring harness eaten by rodents.) The parts car runs great, though, even though it needs a lot of work on other systems, and with our finances, the only real option is to disassemble my beloved car as a source of parts. 😦

      2. You still have her! 🙂 And does she have a name? My brothers all gave their cars names.

        I had a 1982 blue Buick Skylark. My very first car. It was big and boxy and got me from point A to point B, (just barely) Oh, how I loved it. My friends affectionately called it: The Blue Ick.

        My older brother had a red Skyhawk. He got vanity plates that read ROCKIN and his best friend had: ROLLIN. yeah, they were dorks.

        1. John Erickson

          You know, I’ve only had two “named” cars in my life, and only one that I named. I “inherited” a 1978 Pinto with my wife – a car named “Puddles”, ’cause that’s what it left EVERYWHERE. I taught myself a lot of car-repair work on that car, and it was running when we had to abandon it in our precipitous departure from Chicago in 2002. Oddly enough, the other car is the parts car – a peeling white, 1987 Cavalier Z-24 without the hood bulges of my girl. I saw her rolling down off the flatbed in front of our house, and all dressed in white, she reminded me of the last time I saw my friend Grace Lee Whitney, and all of a sudden, “Grace” just popped into my head – Amazing Grace, who was going to save the wretch that my car was. And now, 4 years later, it looks likes Grace is going to be saved by my girl – Grace is the only working car we have. (My wife’s Buick Century wagon broke its’ left-front suspension, and needs some tricky welding to work again.) All my other cars, from the rust-ravaged Vega to a clone of my blue Z I bought for my wife, used, in 1989 (a TOTAL basketcase – the car, not my wife), to the trusty Subaru wagon we literally drove the wheels off (I never learned to speak Japanese, and thus we couldn’t communicate – again, me and the car, not me and my wife), to the Buick, only my wife’s Pinto and our current Z have had names.
          I know – quite a horrific personal failing for a gearhead to admit. More so, considering I’ve spent a lot of time talking to various World War 2 airplanes I’ve met around the country – down to a wondrous evening with a B-17 named “Aluminum Overcast” on a foggy airfield in Aurora, Illinois. (Maybe sometime I’ll tell you how warbirds “sing” to me, just to REALLY convince you I’m crazy! 😀 )

          1. Puddles! haha!

            I hear Subarus are dependable cars. My dad had one forever. We are looking to get another car and I’m all about how long will this hunk-o-junk last? I could care less how the car looks. I am trying to convince my husband Subarus are the way to go. (a bit better than the loser cruiser mini-van we’re driving right now anyway…)

          2. John Erickson

            Subies are good cars, in my experience. What killed ours was two things – it was a true import from Japan (and thus parts were expensive and hard to find), and it blew a small coolant line that caused the turbocharger to overheat the engine, and despite repairs, it never really ran right afterward. I’m not wild about the Forester’s looks (I’d prefer a Legacy wagon), but I’d recommend either that, or an Impreza wagon if you don’t need huge amounts of space.
            And if you want other recommendations, feel free to Email me on the side – I should be able to match you up with several choices. 🙂

    2. Yeah, I suppose my kids are just trying to keep up with the thinly-veiled insults on our end. I wouldn’t say those things to my daughter though, (like when are your parents getting home?) just my son. My daughter will burst into tears if I look at her cross-eyed.

  13. Darla you should be proud because you have the smartest daughter. I know you are actually proud. Sometimes it’s actually better to close our eyes; so that not only we can ignore things we do not like but also, to see those old days through our memory, when we were kids and were in love with messing up things.
    Love this post. You are part of one of the most entertaining family in this world.

  14. Deborah the Closet Monster

    That middle picture of your daughter is gorgeous!

    This post reminds me of a point a few days ago that I wondered whether I ought share some of my proud parenting gems. I decided against it, but now I sure do wish I could remember what gem provoked it. If it’s not good for a post, it might nevertheless be perfect for a comment!

    If only I could remember . . .

    “Tell you what…you can get that Lego set…once you go out and get a job.”
    FYI, I intend to commit parental plagiarism of this bad boy here. Oooh, yeah.

    1. Oh, I know, that Lego line sounds so cruel and mean. But I say it only with love, Deb. 😉 Just trying to toughen up the boy a bit to let him know I can’t buy every single item he lays his eyes on. Money doesn’t grow on trees, like my dear old dad used to say….

      1. Deborah the Closet Monster

        That’s exactly so! I’ve tried to explain this idea to Li’l D recently, but it’s hard for a not-yet-3yo to grasp. I know it’s a conversation that’ll be held for years to come, which is why I anticipate saying it (with an abundance of love!) myself in years to come. 🙂

        1. It is so hard when they hit that age where they yell out, “Buy me that! And this! and that!” and don’t understand why Mommy won’t buy them every single toy in the store.

          Whenever you mention Li’l D, I think back to when my son was only two…all sweetness, double chins and pudgy thighs. He was an absolute tornado though, kept me running all day long.

    1. Ouch! I am sorry! I’ve had my share of abdominal surgeries so I know that even the slightest laugh hurts like hell. Hope you’re recovering smoothly and feeling more like laughing soon.

      The quote about the family really killed me. She said it so seriously, too. And I have to say, I completely agree with her statement.

      1. Thank you! Well, they say laughter is the best medicine and that people feel less pain after a hearty chuckle. But maybe not in my case!

        “And I have to say, I completely agree with her statement” — absolutely!!

        Love the new look of your blog, by the way. 🙂

    1. bwah hahaaaa! Oh! That is priceless. What a moment you two must have shared. Brings tears to my eyes.

      That is it. I have to go over to your blog right now….I think I read somewhere that you have some audio about 50 Shades of Grey involving farting noises or did I just dream that up…?

  15. Plainly, you’re brilliant. I think the 5-year-old is proving that she’s ready to accept the things you tell your 9-year old son. Oh, and I’ve been using that magic trick ever since we got the kids. I also close their bedroom doors. Magic!

  16. I emailed the link for this post to MLB. She loved it. Of course, I pointed out how you stole my gravatar! hehehe, buwahahahaha, and muwahahahahaha – that’s me just laughing all over the place!

    “Mommy? Sometimes I really, really enjoy spending time with my family.”
    [licks her cone and thinks for a moment]
    “But lots of times, I don’t.”

    I love that line from your dear daughter. But I love that you come right back at them. That’s the way it should be.

    Erma Bombeck said something about our last resort as parents is that we can embarrass our children. Oh yeah!!

    1. I’m glad MLB liked my post, thanks for sharing it with her.

      I was thinking of changing my gravatar again…but I’m certain you’d figure out a way to steal it.

      When my daughter said that line, it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. She was so serious! But you know, kids are pretty observant and she was spot-on with the family line.

  17. Loved the post, Darliciousness! I’ll have to learn how to imbed photos and all that fun, because, well, because I Am NOW a Blogger! Yup! Finally did it with my first official post. Have to still work on the avatar photo but at least I’ve taken that big leap over the cliff. Enjoy! 🙂

  18. I’ve said it before but can your kids be ANY cuter? Not possible. And knowing that your daughter is a little sassafras (ahem…what 1981-Angie would call bratass) makes her all the more adorable.

    I love the way you talk to your son. I say things like that and my husband shoots me the evil eye. My kids recently asked how fireworkers are made and I explained they were dropped down from the sky by aliens — then I felt my first tiny taste of regret for my tongue-in-cheek parenting style as my kids repeated this explanation to their grandparents.

    1. She is a sassafras! A spitfire even….I tell Jim all the time that she will be our future president. Maybe we’ll finally get things done around here…

      I think your firework story is accurate. I blame everything on aliens.

  19. Your daughter’s comments and yours cracked me up. That one, “Oh, I can’t wait until you have kids of your own!,” is one I also said to my girls – when they were growing up – more than once. Now that my oldest has a daughter and son, I just laugh over some of the similar shenanigans she and her husband are going thru.
    The late Art Linkletter, a TV host, said it best, “Kids do say the darndest things.”

    1. When my son was a toddler, he was like the Tazmanian Devil hyped up on sugar and caffeine. It was exhausting trying to keep up with his energy. This is why I know the day will come when he has a boy of his own and I will just have to laugh about it. Everything that comes around, goes around.

  20. If I could ‘Like’ this twice, I would!! (I nearly typed ‘Lick’. That’s okay, if I could lick it twice, I would. Except maybe the bit about having a dump in the sink).

    Darla, you’re just the best! Really. Your kids might not appreciate you, but you are! 😀

  21. We say whatever we have to say to our kids in order to keep our sanity. And that’s for their benefit as well as ours, so almost anything is justified.

    About your daughter: You may have named her Julia, but she will turn out to be Victorious. There’s no doubt about it.

  22. “Hey, Mom? How ’bout this? I’m gonna close my eyes….and wave my magic wand…[slowly waves her hands in the air] and all my toys will be put away. Like magic. Just keep your eyes closed the rest of the day so you don’t seem them anymore. Got it?”

    That is brilliant! What a clever little girl. She IS magic, lol!

  23. Oh, man….I missed this post somehow. Could have been the whole surgery thing.

    My younger son (29 yesterday) likes to make fun of my “bingo arms”. I used to tell him things like the thing in the oven on Thanksgiving? iguana. Vacation? Tour of the water treatment plant. Dessert? Creamy Toad-sicles.

  24. This is all sorts of awesome. Every line of your daughter’s had me spewing! (in a good way) Our niece always tells my sister (her mom) that she wants to have “as big a bum” as her when she gets older. My sister doesn’t know whether it’s a compliment or an insult…

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