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| Sweet little Matt and Mallory. |
I once asked Matt what his first cuss word was?
I don't really remember mine, I think I called my friend, Gretchen, a "bitch" when I was about 8 or 9.
Who Knows?
Matt's story is hilarious. And I make him tell it to me over and over again.
First, you should know:
Matt is the youngest of 3. He has two older sisters.
Matt was the golden child, his sisters will tell you.
He really didn't misbehave (from what I understand) and he was a sweet boy who feared trouble. Matt's dad is a retired Air Force Colonel. If you know anything about being a Air Force (or any branch of the Armed Forces) kid you can understand, Matt stayed out of trouble.
So it goes.
It was a rainy day and the Poulos' had their pesky beagle, Mallory, out in the back yard. Like any mother, Cindy (Matt's mom) was probably doing a million things and frantically told Matt to get Mallory inside before she turned in to a hot mess... like any dog would, out in the rain and the dirt (Which then becomes a mother's nightmare because not only is she trying to control everyone and everything in the house she now has to wash a muddy dog. I can imagine my life, in the future, now).
Any how, Matt opens the sliding glass door and at the top of his seven year old lungs yells,
"Mallory!! Get inside you f*cking noodle!"
Typing this story makes me even laugh out loud, alone in my bedroom.
What would posses a seven year old to a) Use that word - who knows that word at seven?
and b) follow it up with "noodle?"
Of course, Tom (Matt's dad) whipped him right around and scolded, "where did you hear that word?"
In tears, Matt confessed that a buddy at school said it and he did not know it was bad. Poor sweet Matt - in tears sulked to his bedroom and never called Mallory that again.
His parents, of course understanding that kids are little shits and some kids teach your children bad things, forgave him and told him it was "okay."
I can not wait for moments like this in our life.
The moments when you want to die laughing because a kid uses a bad word in perfect context,
but you can't because you must teach them right from wrong.
I can't wait to burst out laughing in our bedroom, behind closed doors, with my husband because of how hilarious and colorful our kid's personalities will be.
Parenthood. Yay and Yikes.
I am bracing myself.
I have not blogged all week. Let me catch you up. Of course, I was counting down the days until Matt arrived home from tour. Tuesday was the original arrival date for husband to reunite with wife. But... my husband, being the amazing man that he is, surprised me two days early! Then, as you know, today is the day we were suppose to find out if Baby P is a he or a she. Well, we did. Only, we hit a stroke of luck and were offered a chance to find out one day early! Man. I don't know what kind of things I have done to deserve everything going in the right direction. You hear all of these horror stories about not being able to determine the gender due to baby's positioning or maybe its asleep and covering its goods. Then the waiting is another agonizing couple of weeks until the next appointment when baby has the second opportunity to cooperate. Both my sister-in-law and best friend offered up a piece of advice before strutting into the OB's office and walking out disappointed that baby had a different plan. "Drink some orange juice before you go, that way the baby will be awake from the sugar... hopefully." So upon arriving at the Dr.'s office, Matt and I stopped by the gas station and bought a single serving OJ, chocked full of sugar. I chugged the whole thing, nervously, while I silently prayed that bay would give us the amazing news we had been waiting for. 
Your baby's 
