Unfortunately, the only ball we have is a hard baseball that I bought last week for Cody to practice with, since he just started playing baseball this spring.

After about 10 minutes, I heard crying through the kitchen window.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, opening the window wider so I could hear.

Logan stepped in front of the window, yowling loudly. “We keep hitting each other with the ball,” he told me, in between sobs.

Cody came up behind Logan and both boys stood there, bawling, red marks on their faces.

As I assured them I would purchase a softer ball for them to practice with, I had to hold back a chuckle at the absurdity of the whole situation.

Poor little guys.

I have managed to find my imprint on Andie in the form of her finger- and toenails. That, her openness and her need for companionship are about all the two of us share. Andie’s driven, scheduled, ambitious, worried, a true Type-A.

Cody, on the other hand, inherited no physical traits from me, except for maybe his big eyes. Like me, though, he’s a voracious reader and yesterday, he said something that I identify with strongly.

I don’t get a lot of opportunity for one-on-one time with my kids, so yesterday was fun because I got to spend hours with just Cody, who does not ever stop talking, unless he’s asleep.

“Mom,” he said, as yet another thought occurred to him. “You know how it feels when a big word comes out and it just feels so GOOD to say it?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, practically overcome at this verbalization of something I’ve always felt myself, but never heard anyone say.

“Like ‘Louisiana’ and ‘tough,” he continued. “Those words sound so good.”

Definitely my child.

Sniff.

In what subtle (or even obvious) ways have you seen yourself in your kids?

“Only BORING people are bored,” my dad would remind me, whenever I made the mistake of expressing said feeling.

I took my dad’s words to heart, primarily because there is not much more disagreeable to me than being viewed as a boring person.

I mean, really. Is there any excuse, in this world of numerous activities and choices, for anyone to claim boredom? I don’t think I’ve ever actually been bored in my life. There is just too much to do. Restless, yes. Overwhelmed, sometimes. Overloaded, definitely. But never, ever bored. I don’t even have enough time in the day to do all the things I want to do, much less claim to have excess time to be bored.

Unfortunately, several of my children do not share my desire to be seen as a creative, interesting person. At the very least, they don’t care what I think.

The first time I ever used the line, “Only BORING people are bored,” thinking these magic words would put an end to the complaint for good, Andie waved them off. “Don’t you care if you’re a boring person?” I asked, aghast.

“Not really,” she said.

Evidently this line doesn’t work on every child, but for the kids that it does motivate, it’s a good one.

I have, however, found one motivational phrase that works like a charm for all my kids when they say they’re bored.

“If you’re bored, I can find some work for you to do.”

They clear out so fast, you can see the dust flying in their wake.

What he did not spell correctly is his name. His middle name, to be precise.

Logan’s middle name is Matthew. Here’s how he spelled it:

Mathyou

The girls and I got a good laugh out of that one. Logan seemed pleased with himself for giving us a chuckle.

Evidently the spelling of his middle name is something we need to go over. Soon.

“Yes, you can be anything you want,” I agreed.

“I want to be a McDonald’s worker,” he proclaimed.

“A McDonald’s worker?” I stammered.

“Yes, what’s wrong with that?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” I said. “But you can do that when you’re in high school, if you want.”

“Well, I see adults working at McDonald’s and you said I can be whatever I want to be, so why can’t I be a McDonald’s worker when I’m an adult?” he asked.

I couldn’t argue with that logic.

What does your child want to be when he/she grows up?

“Dad, look at this,” said 6-year-old Logan, as he pulled sesame seeds off the top of his bun. “I’m picking the seeds off of my cheeseburger so I can plant them and grow more cheeseburgers!”

“Mom,” he said, looking at me gravely. “If you don’t give Cody another chance, I’m going to love Dad more than you.”

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

“Are you awake back there?” I called.

A short silence ensued before he answered.

“Yes, Mom. I’m still at 100%. I’m always at 100%”

(In case you can’t read it, here’s the translation:)

Lucky Cody

I think I’m lucky because I have a new baby cousin. I have a good mother.

“Oh, Cody, that’s so sweet!” I said, giving him a hug. “That really makes my day.”

The warm fuzzies immediately evaporated when he replied, “Yeah, I couldn’t think of anything else.”

2.  Conversely, on school mornings or when they have to get up by a certain time, your kids are sure to be groggy and crabby as you drag them out of their beds.

3.  Your child rarely gets sick, but as soon as you have an important meeting or event, she’s down for the count.

4.  Though he’s been constipated for days, your baby has an outfit-destroying blow-out as soon as you’re in public.

5.  Similarly, your preschooler, who swore up and down she absolutely did not have to go to the bathroom before you left the house, declares that she’s going to wet her pants while you’re in the middle of checking out at the store.

6.  Even though you look to make sure the kids are busy before you make that important phone call, they track you down like mosquitoes to warm blood and demand your immediate attention just as you’ve finished saying, “hello.”

7.  The toy that your child hasn’t so much as glanced at in months is suddenly being mourned as his “favorite” the day after you pitch it.

8.  Everyone is busy and content; however, as soon as you close the bathroom door, they’re frantically pounding, in dire need of your assistance.

9.  The new toy you painstakingly picked out for your daughter’s first Christmas is infinitely less interesting than the box in which it was packaged.

10.  The tissues you carefully and pointedly placed in your son’s pocket to combat his runny nose will invariably be replaced by a much faster and handier alternative — his sleeve.

Got any to add? We’d love to hear ‘em!