Teen Couple and Tongues

Scenario:  In line at Disneyland waiting to get on Pirates!  Teen couple in front of us FULLY making out.  His hands on her boobies and serious groans as well as “I love you so much” flying back and forth!

K:  Mommy, why don’t we kiss with our tongues when you give me kisses?  Like that!!!

Me:  Um… well… that’s a different kind of kissing.

K:  But we could do it like they are (pointing at the couple STILL making out).

Me:  No Baby, we can’t.

K:  But why?

Me:  *After a LONG pause… When you are an adult we can talk about it, ok?

K:  (tapping the boy who is STILL groping his girlfriend)—Excuse me!  Do you have to go potty?

TMG (Teen Make out guy):  Uh, hey… no, why?

TMGF (Teen Make out girlfriend):  Oooooh!  He is so cute!!!

K:  (Pointing to his crotch) She’s touching your penis and my Mommy says that when I grab my penis like that, I gotta go pee!

TMG and TMGF say nothing, but just smile and turn around and quit making out!  They ask to be on a different boat when we get to the front of the line!

*Oh to be 16 again, but my son is right, if she’s gonna grope your junk in line at Disneyland, maybe y’all need to take it to the bathroom!  Hrmph!

“What is your son’s ‘actual’ name”

My neighbors have shared a wall with us for about 6 months. While I wouldn’t say that we are “friends” we are most certainly friendly.  I know their names, I know what they do for a living, I have met their adult children, I know where they lived before they moved to Orange.  I know they are HUGE Green Bay Packers Fans.  I know a lot about them.  I have to admit that I don’t think they know as much about me, but I attribute that to me just not talking about myself to people too often!

However, one thing I do brag on is my kid.  Given the chance, even if you don’t wanna hear about him, I will give you the K-man update!  Clearly, since they live next door to us, they have met him and have engaged in several “conversations” with him.  Their dogs (that probably weigh no more than 4 pounds a piece) have “attacked” him on several occasions and Josie and Danny have patiently, at the end of their LONG work day, watched K ride his bike in circles, when he asks!

What’s so funny is that Josie, the wife, asked me the other day, by the trash bin, “I know this might sound funny, and I hate to ask this, but what is your son’s ‘actual’ name?”   I kinda laughed out loud because just in the 3 minutes it took us to walk over to the trash bin, unlock it and put our trash in while trying to watch K ride his bike, I had called him about 3 different things.

For those of you who spend any time with us, you know this is true.  I have so many nicknames for this kid it’s a miracle he even knows his name…  So here’s a list, just off the top of my head—I am sure there are more:
Kwali-bear
Yeh-nay Konjo (My handsome)
Konjo (handsome)
Gobez (smart/witty)
Jeg-ih-now (brave)
Yah-nay-lij (my Baby)
Yay-nay-mar (Sweetheart)
Sa-hi (Sunshine)
Kwali Robel-yay
Bugger boy
Moco Man
Fatty
Mr. Williams

Mixed into that are my basic terms of endearment/encouragement/instruction for him in Amharic:
Tiroo-sirah (good job/good boy)
Nah-fee-kay-ha-lo (I missed you)
Ee-ba-kah (please)
Aye-zou (it’s ok)
Eh-wud-dih-hah-lo (I love you)
Eh-bak-eh-tuh-ka-fell (please share)
Tuh-ka-met (Sit down)
Tuh-neh-sah (stand up)
Tuh-ten-kah (Be careful)
Yih-kil-kil-now (That’s not allowed)
Eh-zee-nah (come here)
Eh-kah-fen (Can I give you a hug)
Samen (Can I have a kiss)
And so on and so on!

So, thank you Josie, my new neighbor, for asking the question that I am sure so many other people have thought, but never wanted to ask.

Band-Aid, Shmand-Aid

Parents of toddlers get it!  I know you do!  My kid seems to be in constant pining for a band-aid.  Please tell me that yours is (or was or you know will be) the same way?  Please confirm that this isn’t a fetish for only my child (*and I know that there are worse things he could be begging for.)!  One of the things that I wish people had warned/educated me about when I was thinking about adopting was to buy stock in Band Aids!  Why not!  I would have made myself a LOT of money by just letting my son be who he is—a love of the band-aid!  Every random bump or bruise or scrape or scratch needs a band-aid.  Every “injury” (and I use that term loosely) needs immediate consideration and attention!  Bust out the triage center for Mr. Williams! 

While I habitually oblige him, I am almost mad at myself for doing so.  Does he need at least, no really, one band-aid day for some insignificant thing that happened to him while he was sitting on our soft couch?  Why, yes Mama, he does!  Does he need the Buzz Lightyear band-aid and the Lightning McQueen one after scraping himself with his own fingernail?  Oh yes he most certainly does.  Does he need to only keep the band-aid on for about 87 seconds before taking it off and claiming a full healing and restoration to the effected area?  Oh, why not.  Who wants to be restricted by a darn band-aid!?

While my kisses for these owies and whatnot are also part of the gig—it’s the band-aid that he is really after.  Yes, I have tried the “Band-aids are only for blood!” routine and that worked—NOT!  Yes, once when he had a stomach ache, I put band-aids all over his belly.  Yes, I have put band-aids on his head (by request) when his head has hurt!  No, it’s not causing me any harm. No, he probably won’t be psychologically jacked up if I do or don’t give him band-aid for his “wounds”.  Will this lead to not just a band-aid obsession but a “wound” obsession?  Oh sweet Jesus—might be time for an intervention!

The Reverse Missionary

*I read this a while ago and have wanted to share it!  Thank you Alise for sharing this message with me.  And now I share it with you, my friends. 

When I start thinking about missionaries, I think about people are sharing Jesus with people. A missionary is someone who knows the gospel message and whose life goal it is to tell that life-giving message to anyone who will listen. I’ve been in the Church long enough to know that you don’t have to go to Africa to be a missionary (though it totally helps your missionary cred), but missionaries have a group they’re out to make sure to tell the story to. The unsaved. 

I’m a Christian and my husband is an atheist.

So we all know who MY mission field is, right?

Yeah, not so much.

I’ve met a lot of atheists in the past two years and one thing I’ve found about almost all of them is that they know the story. They know who Jesus is, they know what Christianity teaches, they know what we believe. They’ve visited our churches, listened to our songs, read our holy book. The message is not the problem.

We are.

We, the Church. We who talk about grace, but are quick to cheer when the bad guy gets his. We who talk about talk about forgiveness, but would rather hold a grudge. We who talk about desiring persecution for His name’s sake, but make sure that we do our fair share of persecuting of “the other”. We who talk about God’s acceptance, but are loathe to share our filth with one another.

And I can look at this and point to all of the reasons why we suck, but I think it boils down to one thing. We don’t believe that God really and truly loves us the way he says he does. And when we don’t believe it, we can’t live it, not really. We serve a God can do “immeasurably more than we ask or imagine” and yet we place limits on how much he can love. We place them on ourselves and as a result, on others.

So my mission? To show love. God’s wide, long, high, deep, immeasurable love. Love that is wild and free. Love that reaches further than we can think, further than we dare to hope. Because when we get that, deep in our bones, we don’t have to worry about making sure people know the gospel.

For more from Alise, visit her blog “Alise… Write!”,

Lingo of the K—Quartet

Cheesy Weesy—Cheese-its

Octopus Pasta—small/skinny pasta

Purr-eee-to—Burrito

Par-ah-tay—Karate

Old Cars—Cars the Movie 1

New Cars—Cars the Movie 2

Shrek with the baby—Shrek Ever After

Shrek and the Dragon—Shrek 1

Woody and Buzz—Toy Story 1

Zurg—Toy Story 2

Woody and Buzz with the Bear—Toy Story 3

Life Saver—Light Saber

Con-fuk-shun worker—Construction workers

Ribble-ing—Dribbling

Star Wars: The Legacy Continues

I grew up on it.  I loved me some Luke Skywalker!  I know the deep desire to be able to ride on the Millennium Falcon.  I know the thrill of seeing Darth Vader for the first time!  However, here I stand, at close to 40 years old, and seeing my son fall in love with it for the first time is WONDERFUL.  He saw one of the “new” (AKA the sucky [personal opinion] ones that are the prequel) ones at my parents house and became OBSESSED with Darth Vader.  I searched for the “real” ones, and found out that since I don’t have a blu-ray player, I couldn’t just walk into a store and buy them.  Well, thank goodness for Amazon!  I bought all three for $40 and so K’s journey into Jedi-hood began!

Since I popped in Star Wars, A New Hope, he has been a Star Wars junkie. He carries his “life savers” (as he likes to call it) around the house (thank you B and R for buying him one—each) fighting the “bark” side.  Yes, my son has 2 of them!  He has a “vintage” Star Wars shirt that he loves to wear, even when it’s dirty.  He tries to talk in the Darth voice as much as possible (which can become annoying) and LOVES to “sing” the Darth Vader theme music even when Darth is not even on the screen.

All of these things are blasts from my past, and I love every minute of it.  I love that K REALLY likes some of the things that I liked when I was a kid.  I like that he is enchanted by space, spaceships, the Force, R2D2 (and by the way, I still have a stuffed R2D2 doll that my grandpa gave me when I was like 7), Ewoks, and yes, even Darth Vader!  Thank you Star Wars for what you are, what you have been and what you will continue to be in the house of Team Williams!

Unique Names

For those of you who know my son’s full name, you know that it’s unique.  I love it.  Well, I hope so, I gave it to him!  However, it seems as if, lately, I have had a slew of students with…distinctive names.  Honestly, they have been unique enough to make me want to blog about it.

—First we have Ciarrah.  It’s pronounced Sierra, but he mom wanted something different.

—Next we have Kristalle—I wanted to pronounce it like the Champagne, but nope, it’s just a regular Crystal. 

—I currently have a Mile-lissa (yes, there is a dash)—pronounced Melissa. When I asked her about it, all she said was that her dad’s name was Miles. Um, ok!

—I have a Demtrius, but he likes to go by Mark.  Oh, ok!

—I recently had a student names Susan, but she liked to go by Precious!

—I also had a student name Ia.  That’s it.  Nothing else.  No, it’s not short for anything.

—Then there was Jerlene.  Not too weird or unique, but kinda is.

—I had a student named Carmela but she liked to go by Kiki or Sunshine. Really???

—I had a student named Tonhetta

There are a few more, but sadly, I didn’t write them down to remember them once the class ended.  I don’t know if it’s just me being overly obsessed with names, what they mean and how people come up with such a name, but there you have it.