the manicured wildchild: things that came out of isabelle's mouth

I have always liked kids. Well, scratch that. I loved kids until I was about 18. Adored them. Would pray and pray that I would be called to babysit because I liked hanging out with a 5 and 7 year old better than people my own age.

and then, those two kids I babysat forever grew up and I was definitely not cool enough for them to wanna play anymore. so after a few years of living on my own, I accidentally developed a intense selfishness that caused me to flee from anything that may possibly sprinkle even a drop inconvenience over any sector of my life. I stopped seeing the need for pets, volunteer work, lunch dates, commitments, and actually most of my friends, as well.

in fact, in the springs of 2011-2013, I built and planted fantastic fruit and vegetable gardens only to abandon them after about 2 months. because, ugh, you little shits need water AGAIN??? you've contracted ANOTHER parasite or std or case of aphids again??? if you can't survive without me holding your hands, then go ahead and die, little peas. it's time you learn to fend for your needy selves.

I had plenty of time to be selfish, and probably learned a lot from it. but it's been really nice to put somebody else's needs before my own. and somebody who has more sass than I do, so, it's not always easy. but then again, nothing worth doing ever is.

except watching Netflix marathons. especially if you decide to cease all hygiene routines while you're watching Netflix marathons, like brushing your teeth and changing your socks, and eating real food. easy, and totally worth it.

a couple months ago, i was confronted with the harsh realization that my maturity level has regressed tremendously since I was a babysitter. we were super tired and really hungry, and Isabelle was fighting me about something, like showering or homework, and she walked up and took the remote from my hands, turned on her heel, switched to cartoons and sat down to ignore me. in this instant, and I'm horrified to admit this, my very first most naturally occurring instinct was to FLIP HER OFF as hard as i could. don't worry, I totally didn't. I pinky swear. but god, I wanted to.

anyway, isabelle has no shame. and she's not shy. combining those traits with her aforementioned sass and her uncanny ability to notice EVERYTHING and never forget ANYTHING, affords us the small luxury of hearing the things that come out of her mouth. (which was a little splat of vomit on the tiles only once this month)

when she was telling me about walking up to find the buck philip shot: “yeah, there were all these bloods and guts, plus a BIG EGG! probly that’s where the baby deer was..”

“neck-flix”

in the truck on a dirt road: “wow daddy, this is just like a roller coaster! except NOT fun! ha ha ha!”

when asked about the drops on the toilet seat: “no no no, that wasn’t me, that was daddy because he has a, (whispers with her eyebrows up) you know, woo-woo.”

“dang-rabbit!” (her version of dagnabbit)

struggling with her seatbelt, she whispered under her breath: “ugh if this damn thing would just work for once..”

“daddy you are in such big trouble. I guess I’m going to have to write in your ‘con-duck’ folder!” (they have ‘conduct charts’ at school)

“daddy, I am not going to let go of Ray until you cam-mit it.” (‘can admit it’.. we still aren’t sure what he was supposed to admit..)

when I asked how she got pen all over her arms “it musta been that dang ‘Duardo. we’re real real emenies.” (Eduardo is a boy in her class)

“gubble-bum”

she put on latex gloves and said: “alright, I’m ready to chop up some aminals!”

she popped up out of bed in the morning, pointed at daddy and yelled: “I HEARED! YOU! SHAKE!!” ('shaking the bed' is a whole other hilarious post)

“oh ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya” (she says this all the time, mostly when she wants you to stop talking)

“for reals!!”

After we played the new Taylor Swift song (Shake It Off), Isabelle was seriously perturbed. “Ugh! That is my line that Taylor Swift stole and I SAID IT FIRST.” (we are not allowed to listen to that song anymore)

with her head cocked to the side and brows furrowed “what did you say?” (she says this at least 15-20 times a day after you say something while she’s only half-listening)

when I said we were going to write grandma Hanna a thank you letter for the care package she sent: “oh no no no, I tell her thanks when we go to ‘Muh-Tayna.” (Montana)

she’s learned that throwing up is a good way to try get out of time-out “SOMEBODY! HELP ME!! I’M PUKING EVERYWHERE, ALL OVER EVERYTHING!!!”

her answer to most questions: “probly, probly not.”

from the toilet or tub or couch "hey somebody! I need sumping!”

when asked why she said she couldn’t stop playing with her dollhouse to come to dinner: “cause daddy, I am in deep deep deeeeep cleaning mode.”

“can you spank my butt 3 times?”

after we brought breakfast to the boys duck hunting, she carried a little dead duck around in a basket like a baby doll and brought it in the car. when we got home, I asked if it had pooped on her (or my car..): “no, but it BLOODED on me! Sick!” (the neighbors were only a little freaked out when she showed them her ‘Ducky’..) sorry, neighbors.

when we were talking to her about the teacher’s comment on her behavior chart (which was ‘talking about naked’) “ugh Miss Jachim told? I! WAS! SORRY!!”

“oh gawwwd.”

“the whole car is shaking!” (then she whispers in my ear) “you know, not like ‘shaking the bed’ shaking, just like, regular shaking.”

her response to why she couldn’t wear the shoes daddy picked out “ugh, daddy, don’t you know that I growed since I was 4??"

she swipes this week’s conduct chart away before we can read it: “oh, this is just supposed to go in the garbage. we don’t have to read it. for reals!”

when explaining to daddy why she had decided to move to her mom’s for one month: “because SHE (pointing at me) won’t let me have lip-skip for a whole month!” (lipskip is about the only thing she can be bribed with these days)

“I have LOTS of clothes that don’t fit around my big booty.”

She likes me to sit in the bathroom while she showers so she can tell me rambling stories: ‘before daddy had, you know, a girl in the house, daddy used to have to do all the girl jobs, like laundry. Now he just does the boy jobs, like dishes. And one time he even pooped his pants! And another time he throwed up in the sink!”

"oh daddy, you're a sneaky little cabbage, aren't you!!"