Kids at the Condo

This year I happily hosted my sister and her family and my brother and his family (separately!) in my little postage-stamp sized condo – at one-bathroom, one-bedroom plus den, it’s an intimate arrangement.  I am not sure how much longer my nephews and nieces, never mind my brother and sister’s spouses, are going to entertain overnight visiting as much-fun, but for now they keep coming and I love hosting.

It is during these visits where I am included in the little worlds that my nephew’s and niece’s inhabit as they curiously expand their intellect.

A few of my favourite moments this year in no particular order:

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It’s a miracle!  I am cooking in my condo kitchen for my family.  Mind you I am making the simplest of dinners – fajita’s.

We are chatting away, my nephew and niece are playing with bits and pieces of Lego when I hear this question:

“Aunt D-D, why do you need a kitchen in your hotel room?”

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“Aunt D-D has the biggest house! She even has an elevator!”

As they enter the smallest living space they’ve ever seen in their life-time.

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We leave my condo, I pull down my prescription sunglasses so I can see what I am doing and I lock the door. My nephew quietly twists and turns making his way down the hallway in front of me reaching the elevators first.  We can hear the “beep, beep, beep” of the elevator as it climbs up to our floor.  In serious thought my nephew turns to me and dead-pans:

“Auntie D-D,” long pause as he fidgets his shoe against the carpet, he stops and stands-still looking directly at me, “You look K-E-W-L”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, he turns around to focus on the nothing at the other end of the hallway.

Points for me and my shades!

My Nieces and I

Spending time with my nieces and nephews is always an adventure, from hearing about my car being too small, letting me in on their “family secrets” (dad farts…) and explaining their “big” complaint about life not being fair (…not always getting their way…).

Today was spent ferrying around two of my nieces, 11 and 9.

We were discussing something super important, I don’t remember the topic! The littlest, in the back seat being obtuse and making broad snappy sweeping statements directed at her older sister.

And then my eldest niece said something so unexpected.

Growing up she loved listening to adults share stories. I’ve told my fair share of stories. One story in particular has evidently made its mark. The story involved an old boss of mine and the go-to-question he’d ask us when challenging the statements we’d make when we wanted his support.

So as we were travelling along the highway at break-neck speed (faster than walking), the littlest niece was goading her older sister into an argument.

That is when my eldest niece quietly pulled out my old bosses favourite challenging question and asked her little sister, “Would you bet your future house on that statement?”

BOOM!!

(Artwork from when they were “kids”, before they started saying adult-like statements, can we stop them from growing up!!)

Handled

Originally, this last blog of 2015 was long winded about why as a child I was relegated to dishwasher duty. I am messy in the kitchen. Also there had been a paragraph or two about the number of people packed into my parents 4 bedroom bungalow for a week. It’s squishy and a little like camping only with a functioning kitchen and bathrooms. If camping were only this organized, warm and dry!

But none of those stories are as funny as the stories I am collecting from spending 7 days hanging out, in some form, with my nieces and nephews.

We just celebrated my birthday. It’s fun celebrating surrounded by kids who love any excuse to be celebrating. I baked a cake for the event and decided it would be fun to have my nieces and nephews ice it.

I had this handled.

This was my idea and as I began setting up to make the icing, oddly everyone above the age of 10 disappeared from the vacinity of the kitchen.

I had this handled.

Standing in the kitchen with my 5 little helpers all vying for attention, all wanting to be part of mixing the icing, two were arguing, two were pushing their chairs around the kitchen, colliding with each other and the 5th was cutely grunting something I couldn’t understand.

I had this handled.

Arranging the two fellas colliding was easy, next was refereeing the argument.

“So tell me what’s happening.”

“Well…”, said in a high pitched voice…

“Without the drama, just tell me the story calmly.”

“Well, she kept telling me the same thing over and over again,” her voice slightly rising, “and I already knew what she was telling me.”

“Ok, so you wanted her to cut to the chase?”

“Yes”

“Alright,” turning to the second little lady, “Your turn”

“Well, I was going to say all that, what she just said, but I was going to add one thing.”

“Ok, what’s that.”

Silence. Arms crossed.

Behind me the two little boys were getting restless. Dancing on their chairs, poking the bag of icing sugar.

“Auntie-dee-dee, how do we make icing?”

Not 5 minutes into our baking adventure and I was already not sure we’d all make it through unscathed.

New found respect for parents everywhere, how do they do this 24/7?!

The icing did get made, the cake did get iced however, before all that happened and 10 minutes into my adventure my sister stepped into the kitchen to give some tips on hardening up the icing.  I handed her my mixing bowl, relieved her of my niece in her arms and scooted out of the kitchen.

Handled 🙂

The Tale of the Yarn Dog

Recently, I took my two nieces on a little road trip.  They are at the perfect age where they want to be involved in what the adults are doing, even if it’s just eavesdropping.

Both were in the backseat of the car chatting away with each other. I was paying attention to plowing through the snow drifts that had crept up onto the highway when the youngest asked me,

“Auntie D, do you remember the time you helped me make the Yorkshire terrier dog out of yarn?”

Ahh, do I remember! A birthday gift from Grandma. An Arts & Crafts project that I was elected to help supervise that turned into me putting together the Yorkshire terrier yarn dog itself. The instructions for the craft looked simple enough but simple instructions don’t always translate to a simple, well-crafted project!  Auntie D’s Yorkshire terrier yarn dog in no way resembled the picture in the instructions booklet. “I wish Grandma were here, she’d be able to make this better than you!” the same youngest niece had flatly informed me as I fumbled with 5 stray strands of yarn that went flying across the living room floor. You get the picture of what the yarn dog ended up looking like? And how my niece felt about the final product? A big lump of indistinguishable yarn!

So as I was driving along, I smiled broadly and replied “Ah yes, I remember!”

How could I forget?!

She continued with a little hesitation in her voice, “Do you want to know what I named my yarn dog?”

“Of course, what did you name it?” I asked expecting an answer.

Nothing.

Complete silence from the backseat.

You know when two chatty ladies go completely silent, SOMETHING is going on. I tried thinking up a logical scenario for such silence and couldn’t imagine a suitable reason.

The oldest niece couldn’t take it any longer and she piped up “Do you want me to tell her?”

Obviously it was BAD!

The youngest continued in her silence and I could only imagine she was making faces at her sister.

“OK, ok I will tell her for you, I will tell auntie D what you called your yarn dog,” she reiterated for emphasis, maybe even for approval.

More hesitation and a long pause.

“She called him MATZ**!” my eldest niece exclaimed loudly but firmly.  There was no joking in her voice, simply a sense of urgency to get a terrible message out and then retreat as far back into her seat as possible.

I burst out laughing! I could hear the relief from the backseat of the car.

“Well he is a nice man, just not the man for me,” I said and continued, curious, “why did you call him Matz?”

“He just looked like a Matz,” my youngest niece said flatly, no expression.

And so if the Yorkshire terrier yarn dog is any indication of what a Matz looks like, it is indistinguishable, misshapen, and poorly crafted!!

**Name changed.  Why so funny? He was someone I had been seeing a year ago. I am not sure if my nieces were concerned that I would be upset at the choice of name? Or perhaps the youngest just really thinks her yarn dog looks like a human being. Needless, it was important for her to let me know of her Yorkshire terrier yarn dogs name and that in itself is really funny.

Bat Girl and Fresh Minty

Bat Girl and Fresh Minty

We are all well aware of Bat Man, Cat Woman but move over Bat Girl has arrived in town!

I love my niece’s and nephew primarily for how ridiculous they can be and funny.

Bat Girl I am guessing must be the offspring of Bat Man? I suppose I need to get caught up on my reading…or just visit Wikipedia 🙂

It is important to know Bat Girl is on the loose today. My favourite part of the outfit are the yellow gloves.

So in other news, I spent the other day at the mall with another little munchkin. She’s a good little shopper but has decided malls are best for playing tag and hide and seek.

“Come on auntie, chase me, chase me, you’re iiiittttt….”

And off she’d dance circles around me trying to get me to run.

Instead of tag we settled for throwing pennies in the water fountain. I only had one penny, I know why didn’t I come prepared!! But that’s ok because it is fully acceptable to reach into the water and get the penny for a second, third, fourth, fifth throw. On the umpteenth throw the penny landed in with it’s friends. This is when the penny throwing came to an abrupt end.

“I am going to leave the penny cause I can’t tell which one is mine!”

We were also chewing gum that day. Its a big girl thing to do but after chewing for an hour she decided to spit it out.

Before she went to the garbage she asked,

“Do you know why people chew gum?”

“Not a clue, why?”

“So they can have fresh minty breath.”

And off she darted to dispose of her gum.

She returned only to declare

“See”

And with that she opened her mouth wide so I could smell her fresh minty mouth.

Only a child 🙂 and that is why they are so great. They make us laugh, smile and help us be a little more…I don’t know haha! I am sure there are some “happy endorphins” that are generated every time they do something funny that we WISH we could do as adults but never would 🙂