Jake-isms, Volume 4

I'm shocked to see how long it's been since I've posted a "Jake-ism". August of 2009 to be exact. But reading over the Jake-isms Volume 4 notes in my Blackberry, I can see that some of the topics seem to be a very long time ago (many involve the struggles of potty training, preparing Jake for the birth of his baby sister, and the days of breastfeeding Alex). And most of them involve a bodily function. I never claimed not to have a dirty sense of humor, and I see that my four-and-three-quarters-year-old son (as we are required to state these days) is similarly amused by scatological humor. Wikipedia seems to be quite the source on toilet humor, should one decide to research such things. Weirdo.

You can follow all of the previous Jake-isms here.


If you need a refresher on what exactly a Jake-ism is, well, it's something funny that Jake says in the course of the day that I quickly record (once I have stopped laughing or removed my palm from my forehead) in the notes section of my BlackBerry, so I will have it as a reference tool for making my blog readers (anyone left out there or have you all gone to Facebook?) laugh hysterically at their desks, and for me to look back on one day.

So here is the latest installment of the Jake-isms, complete with out-takes from a session I took of the two of them over the summer. I would give you an Alex-ism, but they mainly consist of "da-da-da" the Bronx cheer. Although I did have to tell her the other day: "Icky! We do NOT eat our brother's toenails!", which is a sentence one never expects they will have to speak.

Without further ado, I present Jake-isms Volume 4:


Jake, in his sleep, 5:33 am: "I don't like it! NO I DON'T LIKE BLUEBERRIES!!"

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Jake, yelling at 6:30 am (two hours before normal wake-up time): "Mommy! Mom!"
Me: "Yes honey?"
Jake: "Mom, I want to ride a horse!"
Me: "Okay...?"
Jake: "Mom, I want to go to sleep."
Me: "Okay."
Jake: Zzzzzzz



Our own little Benjamin Button enjoys telling us about his previous grown-up adventures:
Jake: "Mom, when I was 14, I went to Europe and bought you a Sari."
Me: "That was very sweet of you honey! I think Saris are usually found in India though."
Jake: "I went there too."



Jake, yelling at me from the bathroom while he tries to argue his way out of pooping on the potty: "I wanna go to bed! Pee-pee says I have to go to bed! He says the rules! He's the boss!"

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Jake, in response to Yo Gabba Gabba (kid's TV show) asking what a kid's favorite thing is:
"My favorite thing is putting my hands in my pants!"



While trying to trim his toenails, he always fights me:
Jake: "You can't look at my toes!"
Me: "I can look at your toes, I made them."
Jake: "No, God made me."
Me: "Okay true, but I grew you. Now gimmie those toes."

* * * *

What to say when someone coughs, according to Jake: "Good cough you!" (As opposed to 'God Bless You' when you sneeze, I guess?)


Jake is rolling out Play-Doh logs, when he says, "Mommy, what color is poop?" (So I guess those aren't gray worms he's making?)


Jake at breakfast: "Mom, I love your butt and your belly. I love private parts." (Which is preferable to the day recently when he informed me that my butt is big. Thanks kid.)

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Jake, who does a lot of role-playing and we sometimes get confused as to which character he is at the moment: "I'm not Spiderman. I'm just Jake that poops in his pants."



Jake is quite the brainiac. In fact, when we were in for parent teacher conference recently, the teachers let us know that Jake informed them he was smarter than his Daddy.

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We're looking at a dinosaur book in bookstore. I identify the ones I can, but get to one that stumps me. Jake lets me know it's a "Chomp-o-saurus".


Ralph, giving Jake a bath: "Okay Jake, wash your pee-pee parts."
Jake: "They're called testicles, Daddy."

* * * *

Jake: "Mommy, tell me the story of when I was born."
Me: "Okay, once upon a time there was a tiny baby boy growing inside mommy's belly, and--"
Jake: "You mean in your uterus?"



Jake: "What kind of bear are you, Mommy?"
Me: "Um, I guess I'm a polar bear. What kind of bear are you?"
Jake: "I'm a kidney stone bear."
Me: "Uhhh...okay."



Jake: "I want to be a girl so I can make milk too."

* * * *

Jake: "Mommy, I'm having pain in my breast. I need breast medicine."



I decide to make a CD on my computer of all Jake's favorite songs. I tell him the CD is burning and will be ready soon. A few minutes later, he asks, "Is the CD done baking?"

* * * *

Me: "Jake, do you know what the word 'Appreciate' means?"
Jake: "Yup, it means 'Hi!' in Italian."



Jake asks: "Where does cheese come from?"
I explain to him how cheese is made from milk, which comes from cows.
"No it doesn't," he says, "cheese comes from cheese trees!"



Jake and I are in the laundromat, washing & drying a bedspread that's too large to wash at home. Jake is having a great time exploring the place and says: "Oh my Lord! What IS this?!"

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Jake: "Mommy, let's go camping together! Daddy should stay home."



Before Alex was born:
Ralph to Jake: "So if you have a little sister, what does that make you?"
Jake: "Sad."
(The answer we were looking for was "big brother", but this was a heck of a lot funnier)


Jake, as we were getting dressed: "Look at my butt!"
Me: "Yes, it's very cute."
Jake: "And it makes funny noises!"

* * * *

Jake, loudly in Panera: "Mommy, you drink the water, and it goes in your belly and then it makes PEEEE!"


Hope you all enjoyed this most recent version of Jake-isms, hopefully my Blackberry will be full of notes again before long. I always enjoy sharing these. :)

Jake-isms, Volume 3

I whip out my Blackberry and record all of the hilarious, non-sensical, dirty and embarassing things Jake says, then I either post them as my Facebook status, text them to Ralph, or hold on to them for an upcoming blog post. Without further ado, here is the most recent volume of "Jake-isms" as recorded over the past several months.

• Hearing the sound of a lawn-mowing crew outside: "Mommy! I hear the mowers mower-ing!"

• Jake, spontaneously naked as usual: "Look, I've got a hole in my butt!" Sends his index finger around to investigate. "Ouch!"
Me, amazed that I even have to say these words: "Okay, no more sticking fingers into the hole in your butt."

• Jake asks me to tear off the foil top of his drink box so he can use it without the straw. I tear it off, with some difficulty, and hand it back to him. He looks at it and then says to me dryly: "That's the best you could do?" I nearly peed myself, and looked around, hoping someone else heard.

• Jake is absent-mindedly fiddling with his privates. I ask him: "Honey, what are you doing to your penis?" His answer: "I'm working on it."

• In the car driving, cd player blasting the tunes, Jake is playing air guitar and I'm singing along. Jake: "Mommy, let these guys sing."

• Jake sees a picture of a visibly pregnant woman. I explain how her baby is bigger than mine. In a hilarious/accusatory tone he says, "Where's YOUR Big Baby??!!"

• Jake and I are racing at the park. I let him win. He proclaims: "I'm the winner. You're the lost-er."

• Quietly to myself about a pedestrian about to cross into three lanes of traffic that have just been given a green light: "This guy has a death wish." Jake, from the back seat with incredible hearing powers: "That man has a dead fish?!"

• Me, pointing to something on Jake's chest: "Honey, what is that?" Jake, not paying much attention: "My testicles."

• The day before our first ultrasound, I sit down with Jake and explain to him that we are going to find out how many babies are in my belly (I had been convinced it was twins). Jake gestures to two of my fat rolls. "One baby here," he says pointing to the roll above my belly button, "and one baby there," he says pointing to the one below. I can't help but go into fits of laughter.

• Jake and two other boys have their imaginary babies on the swings at the park. One boy says to his baby: "You're a good baby, but you do bad things!" I was the only mom in the park dying of laughter.

The fact that no one else is around to hear these things causes me to record them instantly. My son is a funnier comedian (to me at least) than most of the guys who get paid to tell jokes. Hope you found these to be entertaining.

Until next time...

Jake-isms, Part 2

I must stress that every time Jake says something funny, I whip out my Blackberry and immediately take note of it. Best. Idea. Ever.

I have to preface this post with a couple of quick notes. Jake is currently fixated on a few things:
1. Any kind of loud music that involves a guitar
2. The fact that some people smoke, and mommy once called it "bad"
3. Anything having to do with Washington DC
4. Dog poop. (But I think you knew that already.....)

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Jake, poking at the saline solution in my empty contacts case, then touching his fingertip to his eyelashes repeatedly: "I put my contaps on! I can see you!"
(Blinks dramatically.)

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Jake: "I have to go to work."
Me: "Oh yeah, what kind of job do you do?"
Jake: "I have to smoke."

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Me, quitely to myself: "What the freak?"
Jake, with apparently incredible hearing powers: "Don't say freak!"

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After seeing a Victoria's Secret commercial on TV: "They have a secret like me!"

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Me: "Jake, cousin Kyler has a new baby sister! What do you think her name is?"
Jake: "Guitar Hero."

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Jake: "Ru, you wanna do snuggle wiff me an' mommy? Okay, here we go!"

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Jake: "I live in Washin' DC!"

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Outside of a 7-11, a 20-something guy is having a cigarette while talking on his cell phone. Upon seeing him Jake says: "Wook mommy, he's smoking! He's a bad boy."

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I'm sniffing the air in the living room: "Something stinks in here..."

Jake: "It smells like poop and chockey [chocolate] milk."

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Jake singing classic rock: "Soda Ride! Take it iz-at!"

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Jake: "Wait! I forgot a good idea!"

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Me: "Jake, both of Mommy's grandmas live in Heaven with God and Jesus."

Jake: "My peepa lives in Washin' DC!"
(Uh, not anymore Jake, but I won't correct him on that....)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Me: "Jake, do you know who the president is?"

Jake: "Yeah, he's a horsey!"

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Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" comes on the radio.
Jake says: "It's Rock-Kid!"
I am impressed regardless :)

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Every single time we walk in our front yard:
"Mommy, it smells like dog poop."
(He's kindof on to something, we have these nasty mushrooms growing that are called "stinkhorns")

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Jake-isms, Installment One

These fun little "Jake-isms" have been typed into my Blackberry NotePad as they happened over the last month or so, and copied and pasted for your viewing pleasure today:





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Returning after being shooed from the kitchen so that mommy could clean up the broken glass: "I bring my firetruck. He wanna get big boo-boo too."


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While brushing our teeth together:

Jake: "Doing Mommy?"

Me: "I'm brushing my teeth Jake, what are you doing?"

Jake: "I eating cake."


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Jake, after giving a pretzel stick to the dog: "You're welcome!"


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Jake, authoritatively, after taking a long sip of mommy's iced latte: "It's decaf."


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Pointing to a spot on the back of his head that just got a boo-boo: "It's red!"


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"Mommy, what's wrong? What's wrong wiff my butt?"


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Eating noodles: "I wanna haff too much. Okay Mommy?"


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Pointing to a small brown leaf that blew into our kitchen from outside: "Look, dat's dog poop, okay?"


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About the dog, who is playing with his ball: "She's a BAD dog!"


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Jake has a paper cup filled partially with water, and another with puffed wheat cereal. He begins to mix the two together: "I'm making juice!"