Conversations with My Children

Me: Stop harassing me!
Clay: Be thankful I'm harassing you. At least I'm paying attention to you!
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Me: How's Matt?
Aaron: Good

Me: How's Brad?
Aaron: Good

Me: How's Crystal
Aaron: Good
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Callie: OH MY GOSH! Clay has those glasses! (Looking at the cover of Rolling Stone)
Me: Don't you know who that is?
Callie: It's Bono.
Me: And he gave the glasses to Clay.
Callie: I know!
Me: Then why are you surprised to see them on Bono?
(And yes, I know he has many pairs of those glasses.)
Callie: I don't know.

Callie: Are we going to the Smith's tonight?
Me: No, we're going Saturday night.
Callie: Are we going to the wedding?
Me: No, we're going to the Smith's!
Callie: Are we going to the Smith's tonight?
Me: NO!

Callie's Cramp

Callie has started basketball tryouts for this year. She doesn't do any physical activities any other time of the year, so when she got in the car yesterday, screamed, and grabbed her leg I knew she had a cramp. Plus, her calf muscle was bulging and she doesn't really have calf muscles.

So, I grabbed her leg and started working on the cramp. She thought I didn't understand she was hurting and began yelling even louder.

If you passed our van yesterday and witnessed wailing, thrashing, and violent shaking, it was just us getting the cramp out. Please do not call CPS.

Callie Conversation

I asked the two youngest kids at my house if they wanted their dinner chicken or hamburger based. No one answered. This isn't unusual. I'm usually ignored unless one of them has a complaint.

Chicken was my choice. I started cooking it in an unhealthy way to make my youngest kid happy. He is my biggest complainer and sometimes it is just nicer to not have to hear it.

Callie came over to see what I was cooking. If it is something she can stir, open, or chop she wants to be in the middle of helping. It wasn't, so she moved back to the computer.

About thirty minutes later this conversation took place.

Callie: What's for dinner? Chicken or hamburger?
Me: What did it look like I was cooking when you came over to see?
Callie: Chicken.
Me: So what do you think is for dinner?
Callie: Chicken?

Life Lesson Learned

Yesterday I noticed the flag up on our mailbox. Curious, I looked in to see a letter perfectly addressed and stamped from Callie to her camp counselor.

Yes, she did it all by herself and remembered to put on the stamp!

Just When I Think I Can't Be Surprised...

On the way to school today Callie picked up a picture and asked who it was.

me: Myrna Loy and William Powell

Callie: Are they alive?

me: no

Callie: Are they dead?

Unconditional Love

I don't usually watch reality tv, but tonight I sat and watched Extreme Makeover: Home Edition with my youngest daughter (who has special needs) and sobbed like a baby.

Joseph lost his head

One of our ornaments had an accident while the tree was being decorated. It found itself in the hands of Callie and her way of testing a tree branch is to hang the ornament and if it crashes to the ground then she looks for another branch (if the ornament survives). This one survived with a minor scratch, but the boys took care of it.

Monday's Callieisms

Callie: Dad, I need go school 7:30 Wednesday for party.
Phil: I know, your mother is going with you to the party.
Callie: No, I need be at school 7:30 Wednesday for party.
Phil: We know, your mom is going with you to the party.
Callie: What party?

Me: Callie, you drew Amiee's name for Christmas.
Callie: When do I have to start drawing?

Huh?

We've known for awhile that our daughter, Callie, is different. She is in special education and has trouble grasping many things. The first 10 years of her life were spent in an orphanage in Shanghai. Now, it is a large, comfortable orphanage - not the kind that you hear horror stories about - but an orphanage just the same. For ten years she made no decisions on her own - none, nada, zilch. She had never experienced a mud puddle, so for about a year she stepped in almost every patch of mud that was in her path. She would step in the puddle, keep walking for about five steps, stop, look down, look up in horror and be furious that this gunk had jumped all over her shoes. It is hard to learn about mud puddles when you live your life inside or on concrete.

Every day is filled with Callieisms. Many days there are too many to remember. There are some that we hear almost daily.
"What time it is?" Now, this is incorrect in itself, however she is usually standing next to the clock when she asks.
"I need clothes to wash."
"Callie, you have enough clothes."
"No, I need clothes TO wash."
"Yes, I heard you. I'm still not buying you any clothes. You have enough."
"NO! I need CLOTHES TO wash."
"You mean you need clothes washed?
"Yes."
"Then say it right."
"ARGGGH!" stomp, stomp, stomp...up the stairs as she is muttering under her breath.

This one happens at least once a week, if not more.
"Callie, can you please unload the dishwasher?"
"Sure!" as she walks to the dishwasher. she is a great helper - it just takes longer with a lot of directions.
"Are they dirty or clean?"
"Do we put dirty dishes in the cabinets?"
"No."
"Then why would I ask you to UNLOAD the dishwasher?"
"Oh, yeah."

Her favorite sport is basketball. She loves to watch it; she loves to play. The only problem is she can't remember the rules. Our church offers an Upward league which is perfect for her. Everyone is patient and most kids aren't planning to be NBA stars. So, when she forgets that she has to dribble or that she isn't suppose to guard her own teammates, it is okay. Frustrating, but okay.

Our friend, Allison, experienced this conversation the other day. They were driving by a man walking a sleek silver Weimaraner.

"That dog looks like Fezzik." our dog is a curly chocolate Standard Poodle.

"Not really, Callie, what makes you say it looks like Fezzik?"

"It has ears."

I really didn't think she could shock me anymore - after three years you would think that I had heard it all - but she managed to do it last night. We had gone to buy her a swimsuit. That was a Callie experience in itself, but when we got home she stopped, pointed at something (I was sort of in front of her and saw this out of the corner of my eye) and said, "I wonder who lives there?" She knows all the neighbors so I stepped back off the porch thinking she was pointing to a home across the creek. She wasn't. She was pointing to the dormer window on OUR house! "What do you mean? This is OUR house! WE live here! YOU live there!" "I know, but who lives there?" "WHAT?, CALLIE! That is the upstairs of OUR house! Your bedroom is up there. You have lived here for three years! What do you mean 'who lives there?'" Later that night I told my husband that he would never believe what she had said.
"Sure I will."
"Oh, no you won't. Not this." I proceeded to tell him.
"I almost believe it."