Friday, December 14, 2012

Executions

Ben and Mitchell are buds.  Best buds.  If asked who their best friends are, they both claim each other are.  They usually play wonderfully together and come up with some pretty fantastically imaginative games to play.  Sometimes Jack is invited to join.  Sometimes not.

All it takes to mess up this relationship though is the addition of a third kid.  Suddenly, sides are being taken.  Good guy and bad guy roles get handed out.  Competitions begin.  Battle lines are drawn.

The boys had their adorable cousin staying with them all week and I began to here a lot about exclusions.  Two of them would gang up on the other one and loyalties were constantly changing.  I just couldn't keep up anymore and banished them to the basement to figure it out.

It did begin to get funny though as Mitchell tried to assimilate the new word "exclusion" into his vocabulary.  He kept coming to me, defeated, complaining that once again, Ben had executed him.  Poor kid.  He was executed repeatedly over the week.

Bilingual

Jacks gloworm plays frere jacques and he loves to sing along to it (and make me stay in bed with him until gloworm cycles through his loop of 5 or 6 songs until it gets back to that one so he can sing it again for me.  And then again.  And then one LAST time...)

When he asked what the words meant and I explained it was in French, he seemed to be satisfied, even pleased with that explanation.

But now he thinks he speaks French.  Every time he doesn't understand what someone says to him he says, "Are you talking in French?" And just the other day, his brain got ahead of his words and he started to jumble up his sentence.  He stopped talking, laughed, and said, "Oh mom... Did you hear me talking in French?"


Friday, November 30, 2012

Am I a Mean Mom?

I saw a commercial today that made me wonder: am I a mean mom?

Here's the commercial:

A smiling mom (we'll call her "nothing better to do") is happily washing her windows.

A little kid (we'll call her "stinker") comes running up to the window and puts her grubby little hands all over the newly cleaned window.

Nothing Better To Do then laughs and bends down and snuggles and kisses Stinker as if she has really made her morning and the picture fades away.

What?! Is it just me, or is that just plain crazy? Please tell me I am not the only one who does not find Stinker adorable. Things turn out a bit differently for my little stinkers when they pull a stunt like that.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Little Things

Do you ever find yourself dwelling on the unpleasantries in your life? Life's... rough sometimes. It would be unwise and just plain crazy to pretend otherwise.

Lately, I have been having trouble finding humor. Finding my inner silly head (yes, I am allowed to use the term "silly head" because I am a mom and I have three young kids. So there.) The difficult parts of life have a way of casting a shadow over the very real and very present joy in life. It happens.

But this morning, as I was munching on my tiny snack pack of peanuts on the airplane, (holy smokes, those bags are shrinking! I literally had 6 peanuts in mine!) a memory came to mind that made me smile and actually, despite the smallness of it, refocused me.

Here's the memory: when I was a kid, any time my dad would travel, he'd come home with his bag full of treasures. Know what those treasures were? Airplane snack bags! I think maybe a special barf bag was presented as awesome occasionally too. I can just imagine him snagging all the barf bags from the seats in front of him and schmoozing the flight attendant out of four extra bags of pretzels and peanuts. And then he'd probably keep her there chatting until there was an emergency. Like, someone waving a gun or having a baby emergency. (He likes to talk...)

But when he'd come home and whip those pretzels and peanuts out of his bag, one for each of us, i thought it was the greatest thing. My kids would think, "No peanuts! They say at school that peanuts can KILL you! And why are you handing me my snack? I don't really even love pretzels and I thought you said you had a surprise for me...")

So thank you for the pretzel snack packs, Dad, but also for making them special somehow and for thinking of your family while chatting up the flight attendant. And thank you for the smile and sigh I just gave that was noticeable enough that the lady in the seat next to me who has been on the verge of a panic attack all flight just stopped her heavy breathing and squirming and asking me if the clouds look awefully weird to me too to ask me what I was smiling about.

PS: It just occurred to me that one time, my brother actually got a recorder (those annoying plastic flutes that I actually took lessons on in school one year) instead of peanuts... How did the rest of us not rise up in rebellion and beat him up with his recorder when he got that when we got pretzels... Siblings? Help me out on this one?

Little Things

Do you ever find yourself dwelling on the unpleasantries in your life? Life's... rough sometimes. It would be unwise and just plain crazy to pretend otherwise.

Lately, I have been having trouble finding humor. Finding my inner silly head (yes, I am allowed to use the term "silly head" because I am a mom and I have three young kids. So there.) The difficult parts of life have a way of casting a shadow over the very real and very present joy in life. It happens.

But this morning, as I was munching on my tiny snack pack of peanuts on the airplane, (holy smokes, those bags are shrinking! I literally had 6 peanuts in mine!) a memory came to mind that made me smile and actually, despite the smallness of it, refocused me.

Here's the memory: when I was a kid, any time my dad would travel, he'd come home with his bag full of treasures. Know what those treasures were? Airplane snack bags! I think maybe a special barf bag was presented as awesome occasionally too. I can just imagine him snagging all the barf bags from the seats in front of him and schmoozing the flight attendant out of four extra bags of pretzels and peanuts. And then he'd probably keep her there chatting until there was an emergency. Like, someone waving a gun or having a baby emergency. (He likes to talk...)

But when he'd come home and whip those pretzels and peanuts out of his bag, one for each of us, i thought it was the greatest thing. My kids would think, "No peanuts! They say at school that peanuts can KILL you! And why are you handing me my snack? I don't really even love pretzels and I thought you said you had a surprise for me...")

So thank you for the pretzel snack packs, Dad, but also for making them special somehow and for thinking of your family while chatting up the flight attendant. And thank you for the smile and sigh I just gave that was noticeable enough that the lady in the seat next to me who has been on the verge of a panic attack all flight just stopped her heavy breathing and squirming and asking me if the clouds look awefully weird to me too to ask me what I was smiling about.

PS: It just occurred to me that one time, my brother actually got a recorder (those annoying plastic flutes that I actually took lessons on in school one year) instead of peanuts... How did the rest of us not rise up in rebellion and beat him up with his recorder when he got that when we got pretzels... Siblings? Help me out on this one?

To Pee or Not to Pee

When given the choice on an airplane, I am always conflicted over which seat to choose. I do love the window seat. I absolutely love the too side of clouds. And even though I have never successfully picked out my home when flying over it at landing, I still enjoy the challenge of trying. Having a wall to lay my head against is also a plus - lessens the likelihood of an open mouth, bobbing head, terribly I restful cat nap.

On the other hand, what do I do when I have to pee? I know what the obvious answer is: say "excuse me but could you let me out?"

But there is always seemingly insurmountable reasons why I just can't make myself do that! The business man is out cold. I can't wake him and use the word "pee" at the same time!

Of the old lady that takes 5 minutes just to get everything situated just right before she can move.

Or the book reader with his tray table surface COMPLETELY covered with electronic devices, drinks, snacks, etc. c'mon, where is all that stuff going to go!

So I usually end up either dehydrated out of refusal to have to face this dreaded situation, or else sitting with a bladder stretched to bursting, silently and fervently praying that person between me and relief will think of a reason to get out if their seat on their own.

What about you? Do you hold it or just barge right through the barriers?

Friday, October 12, 2012

Coke Breath

Jack was sitting on my lap after his nap today (one of my favorite times of day; love that warm, snuggly little guy...)

Anyways, we were just chatting a bit when he suddenly burped.  With a surprised look on his face, he said, "Mom! It tastes like Coke!  Can you smell my Coke breath?"

He must have overdone it on my Coke this afternoon because the burps just kept coming.  Each time, he'd stop and say, "I had another Coke breath mom!"


Saturday, October 6, 2012

Pure Awesomeness

We like stripes in this family. Well, I like stripes and I buy all the clothes so...

But I must say, Mitchell especially has fully embraced striped clothing. The problem is when he goes overboard.

Never one to let me pick out his clothing for the day, he often comes up with some... eye-boggling ensembles.

This morning, he came downstairs, striped from head to toe. I reminded him of the "stripes rule," which is simply no stripes on top AND bottom, but his response blew my argument away:

"But mom! I look so awesome!!"

It's Saturday. Go for it, Mr Awesome!

Friday, October 5, 2012

Mom's Homework

Now that Mitchell is in Kindergarten, he feels terribly grown up.  So far, he just loves getting his folder out immediately after school and digging out all his papers and gets started on his homework before I even get a chance to see it!  While Ben waits until he eats a snack, goofs around, complains a bit, claims he can't find his folder, goes to the bathroom, changes his shoes, and stares off into space a bit before finally getting down to homework, Mitchell is done before I get his snack ready!  I love the differences in my boys.  Always humorous to me.

Well, yesterday was a busy day and we just didn't have time to get homework done.  So we did it this morning.  I think I may do that more often!  Their focus was better and, for Mitchell, it got him into his hopping up and down, can't contain my ideas and creativity mood.  I love it when he is so amped about something he just can't stop hopping.

After finishing his homework, he immediately got out some paper and pencil and designed a special homework assignment for me.  

At the top was a picture of a jack-o-lantern.
Followed by some "writing/instructions."
Next was a line to write my FULL name, "not just mom, ok mom?  Your REAL name!"
Then a picture of a person, a door, and steps to another door.

The assignment was to write my FULL name, then count how many steps it took to walk from the front door to the family room.  But it didn't end there.  Once I completed that, I had to count how many hops it took.  Then skips.  Then giant steps.  Then baby steps.  Then crawling.  Then backwards steps.  Then  spinning.  

When I finally finished my homework, I got an enormous hug, a huge smile, and a hair bow.  


I think I'm going to have to plan some extra time into my morning if this is going to become a regular thing.  But it would be worth it for the amount of giggling and quality time all four of us spent hopping, skipping, crawling, spinning, and generally acting silly.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Moggy

On our walk to the bus stop this morning, Jack looked up at me from his little bike and casually mentioned, "Mom, it sure is moggy out this morning! It sure is..."

I guess he's right. When it's both muggy and foggy, naturally, you have on your hands a moggy day!

Smart little boy...

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Countdown

Jack has developed an interesting countdown.  First of all, I'm impressed with his ability to count backwards.  Secondly, and more importantly, I am impressed with his... embellishments!  It goes something like this:

10.. 9... 8... 5... 7... cereal... 4... 7... Mitchell... 1... BLAST OFF!!!

Let me tell you, it never gets old.  The more Ben and Mitchell laugh at it, the more encouraged Jack gets and the sillier and crazier the countdown gets.  At some point, it really just looses the ability to be called a countdown anymore and becomes a constant stream of silly words and giggling boys.

And of course, what sort of countdown can be considered complete without a space helmet to make it official.

New Kids on the Block

I have moved many times. Seems like I am forever the new girl. And I have had many neighbors, some more enjoyable than others.

This fall, I find myself in yet another new place, with a whole new set of neighbors. I'm getting pretty good at starting over.

Although I have moved plenty of times, I have to say, not once have I received a welcome gift - until now!

Being the new kid on the block isn't always so bad...

Monday, September 24, 2012

Junkyard Wars: The Jet

Ben and Mitchell have a new obsession.  Remember that show Junkyard Wars from a few years back? The series where teams of people run around a junk yard, collecting bits and pieces to put together something, quite frankly, a little unbelievable?

Ben and Mitchell are fascinated.  And they think if only they had access to a junk yard, all their dreams of building, owning, and operating a jet powered trike would come true.  It looks so simple to them, and it gets their imaginations bursting at the seams.

Just a few nights ago, after school, it was dinner time and getting dark and chilly out.  Dinner was ready and getting cold, but I just couldn't bear to stop the boys from what they were doing.  They had emptied out the garage, finding stuff I didn't even know what in there, busily building a two-man jet.  They weren't quite finished adding improvements to it and were having the time of their lives.  This time, I let dinner get cold.  That's what a microwave is for.  They played until past dark.  But they built their jet.

Mission accomplished!




Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Doorbells

All three of my boys are enamored with our doorbell.  I am not.  I will be up in my bedroom getting dressed when the chimes go off - a very long, annoying song that never ends!  And it gets worse!  The first and second floors are slightly off somehow and play the song not simultaneously, but in a painful, discordant chorus that hurts my ears and makes me want to smash the doorbell to bits and pieces!

Did I mention the boys love that doorbell though?  They sometimes go out the back door, walk around to the front of the house, ring the doorbell, then wait for me to open the door for them, eyes peaking through the mail slot.  If allowed to, Jack will push it over and over again just to hear the "pretty songs!"

Well, I finally made a hard and fast rule about no doorbell ringing in our house.  It was not an easy pill for the boys to swallow, but something had to be done.

So while we do not have that song playing constantly in our house anymore, the church down the street plays the exact same tune every hour!  Granted, that is a more musical and peaceful version, but I find it ironic that I just can't stop the doorbell song from playing.

One evening, when we were walking around town after dinner and the bells went off, Jack noticed the tune and said, "Hey mom!  Can you hear the church's doorbell? They better not ring it!  You said no!"


Thursday, August 2, 2012

Little Message

Ahh, Mitchell... So mysterious to me at times, yet so sweet and thoughtful in his own unique way.

Just when I begin to wonder what is going on in his little head, he surprises me with a little message to let me know what he is thinking.

I found this little message - Mitchell-style, on my bathroom counter today:


How do I know it was Mitchell?  I just do.  

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Cookies for Babo

You know your kids have amazing imaginations (or perhaps take their toys too seriously) when they actually save portions of real treats for them.

I stopped at Starbucks for a not-so-unusual cookie and coffee date with my boys.  They each ordered a giant chocolate chip cookie (yum...)  and I had a few minutes to sit and enjoy my coffee.  We love our Starbucks dates.  Gives us a good chance to catch up on our running game of "I Spy."  They also like to throw crumbs to the birds.  Well, I think they may be throwing crumbs at the birds, but... hey, the birds get a treat in the end!

When the boys announced they were ready to go, I noticed they had both saved a sizable chunk of their cookies and were carefully placing them back in their bags.  When I asked what was wrong, (there must be something wrong if they are not finishing their cookie!!) they informed me that they were bringing home some of their cookies to share with Babo.

"Babo LOVES cookies, mom!  That's all he eats!  And he makes them and eats them and we want to share ours with him so we're bringing some home!"

Who is Babo?  Well, I'm glad you asked.  He is one of the many creatures hiding in Ben and Mitchell's beds.  He is, in fact, an Ugly Doll, and apparently, he loves cookies!  Who knew?


So there you have it.  Ben and Mitchell love Babo so much that they actually brought home cookies for him.  I forgot to check if Babo ate them or not...




Monday, July 16, 2012

Known By Another Name

During lunch today, we were having some serious conversations; the kind of discussions very important to 3 young boys and their mom.

Ben: Mom, what is my middle finger called?

Me: what do you mean? Who told you it has a name??

Ben: Oh, no one. It's just that my thumb has a name and my pinky has a name and my pointer has a name... I just wanted to know what my middle finger is called.

Me: Well... I've heard it called things before but I don't really want to explain it to you.

Ben: Oh yeah! It's the RUDE finger! The one guys use to be rude! Like a naughty word! I'm going to call it "Rude Dude!"

Me: I think that is just perfect, Ben.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Mosquito Lunch

Ben and Mitchell have a theory worked out concerning mosquitos.  Care to hear it?  It's pretty good.

Seems like out of all of us, Mitchell gets by far the most mosquito bites. Jack gets his fair share.  Ben hardly gets any.

As we drove home today, I heard them working out their hypothesis.

Ben: Mitchell, you must get the most mosquito bites because your blood tastes like dessert!

Mitchell: Then you must taste like vegetables!  Like mashed potatoes! (if you know us at all, you know mashed potatoes are the most disgusting food imaginable to my boys)

Ben: But what about Jack?  He gets some but not a TON like you.  He must be.... he must be like fruit! Or like lunch!

Jack: No!!  I'm NOT lunch!  I'm just Jack!  Mom!  He called me lunch!

Mitchell: Yeah... he's lunch...

So apparently, dessert is the best, mashed potatoes are the worst, and in the middle somewhere is... lunch?

A New Way To Fight

Ah, summer... So much fun in so many ways, but so much time... together.  I like to try to insist my three boys NEVER fight or bicker, but somehow, I seem to be unsuccessful in my dream of peace and quiet so far...

Don't get me wrong, my boys are buds.  For the most part, they just love having each other around.  They share a lot of the same interests and when forced to choose between playing together more civilly or separating, they always choose to stay together.

But they bicker.  They push each other's buttons.  They pester.  Today, Ben even proclaimed, "Mom, one of the things that steals my joy is when Mitchell pesters me!  And also not being able to go to the pool..."

I thought I had seen all the ways they get at each other, but this afternoon, I witnessed a new one: they fought through drawing pictures.

As I came into the kitchen, they were right in the middle of a big fight with, yes, pictures!  Ben was drawing Mitchell crashing in his spaceship, to which Mitchell responded by scribbling Ben out of his picture.  Ben retaliated by putting a dress on Mitchell, which really got Mitchell mad so he drew dog poop on Ben's head.  Ben made a club list that he pointed out did NOT have Mitchell's name on it.  Mitchell can't write very well yet, so he just wrote Ben's name and scribbled all over it.

This went on for a while until Mitchell was drawing on Ben's arm and then ended up knocked to the floor.

Ah, summer... Guess we'll go to the pool after all!

Saturday, July 7, 2012

A Little Thunder for Breakfast

Jack woke me up before 6 this morning.  That gave me a lot of time to spend with just him and his adorable silliness (trust me, I did NOT find him adorably silly when he came shuffling into my room...)

As we were eating breakfast outside, he was a constant stream of conversation as usual, only requiring or even allowing the most basic of responses from me - yep, oh really? you're kidding! uh huh...

The thoughts that come out as words in his mouth are really something special.  Almost worth waking up early with just him to hear a couple hours worth with no distraction.

Like this morning when he opened up his bagel, peeked inside, and, with wide eyes said, "Oh no!  There's thunder in there!  Can you see it with your ears?  It's thunder!  Remember the thunder outside?  And I ran away?  I ran inside and watched previews!"

He does love/hate thunder and he does love to talk about it.  I do remember many thunder stories involving Jack, but I am somehow forgetting the time he ran away from it to watch previews...


Thursday, June 21, 2012

Save the crocodile!

Today, on our first official day of summer break... we ran out of things to do.  It was just so hot outside and the big boys insisted that since they have "been so busy" all year, they wanted to do nothing today.  

So while Ben and Mitchell "did nothing" together - which consisted of building a massive castle out of Legos, pushing Ugly Dolls around on the vacuum, and making potions in the sink - Jack kept getting in their way so they banished him.  He was forced to play with me.  

No matter to Jack.  He tromped into the kitchen, pulled out a few utensils, and proceeded to make up a good game of "Save the Crocodile!"  How, you ask, does one play this game?  Well, one person has to be the crocodile (my hand) and Jack has to be both Kevin, who is trying to hurt the crocodile, and at the same time, God, who is trying to save the crocodile.  

At one point, Kevin got in his van and ran over the crocodile.  This necessitated a savior - "Don't worry, crocodile!  God will save you!  He's gonna save you!"

I like this game.  I get to sit (or lay...) on the couch while Jack kills and revives my hand/crocodile over and over again.  The only downside is that he sometimes gets a bit rough in his multiple attempts at killing my hand... I mean, crocodile.







Dad

Happy Father's Day, to the father of my boys.

Here are the recorded words of your three sons:

Ben: I love dad because he loves me and he rough-houses me.  He's just so cool.  He lets me go to work with him sometimes, which is really cool.  I love the Ferrari game and racing with him outside.  That's what I really I like about him.  I love it when he tells me stories at night and sometimes we make up silly stories!

Mitchell: I love that my dad is a business man and he works.  That's what I like about him.  He gives me special treats.  He sprays whip cream in my mouth!  I love it when he tickles me and plays with me.  He's pretty good at rough-housing.  He's not very good at brushing my teeth though.  He lets me play in his car.  I like it when we sit out there and have dude time.

Jack: He picks me up! He reads stories with me! And last morning one time I wiped my boogies on him! *cue the crazy laughter*



Monday, May 21, 2012

Third Best Friend

How many best friends can one boy have?

Well, if you are my Ben, you attract a lot of best friends.  One of his strongest abilities is his ease in making friends.  He loves everyone and it seems everyone loves him as well.

I remember his kindergarten teacher last year telling me that she finally had to set up a rotation system during "circle time" so that enough kids got the chance to sit by him.  Too many arguments were erupting at story time.

This year, yet again, we have a brand new location, brand new school, brand new teacher, brand new friends, same old problem: too many kids want to be his best friend.

This was humorously pointed out at his birthday party last weekend.

I know it is not always done to open presents during the birthday party, but Ben insisted this be part of the "schedule" of his party, so the shirtless and soggy boys (shirtless and soggy from the fairly intense water fight they had) all crowded as close to Ben as possible, each shoving their presents in his face, encouraging him to "Open mine first, Ben!  You're going to LOVE it!"

The gifts were all perfect; just what a 7-year old boy dreams of: transformers, legos, light sabers, and spy gear.  He was quite pleased with the loot.

What really got to Matt and me though was one of the cards.  It read


"Dear Ben,
Happy Birthday
Your third friend
Jake"

When we saw that card, Matt and I just laughed.  I asked Jake what "third friend" meant and he clearly explained that although Mitchell is his "first best friend" and Luke is his "second best friend," he proudly boasted possessing the title of "third best friend!"

At this point, the other boys chimed in with their placings:

"Yeah!  I'm his 5th best friend!"

"I'm his 4th!"

"No you're not, I am!"

Clearly, they have all sorted this out before and most of them have no problem with their standings.  Each are pretty happy just to be in there somewhere.




Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Fun is in the Wrapping!

My big boy just got a whole year older! It's true! He aged a year overnight! He went to bed only six years old, and woke up a 7-year-old! Pretty sure that is the way my kids picture getting older. It's a fun notion.

I just have to say, that although Ben loves his birthday - the attention, the gifts, the cake and ice cream, just "feeling special," I think Mitchell might love his birthday just as much!

All throughout the week leading up to the big day, Mitchell was busy busy. Finding treasures and wrapping them up. It was sweet that he was picking out treasures from his collection, but the ways he wrapped them was so cute! He used cardboard and colored paper; paper plates and napkins; electrical tape and about an entire roll of scotch tape.

When gift opening time came, these gifts had to come first. He just couldn't wait to deliver them to Ben. We had to go all over the house, retrieving the gifts from their hiding places he stashed them in. He had so many hidden that we even missed one. I just found it on my shoe shelf in my closet.

I am so thankful my boys have brothers. I pray nothing ever comes or stays between them.

Treasure Hunt

Mitchell is such a mystery to me.  One day, he is quiet and moody, answering my probing questions with one word answers and funny "looks."  The next day, he is skipping in excitement and bursting to tell me stories of what happened at school and his plans for building a spaceship "that really flies!"  One day, a hug annoys him and a kiss?  yuk!  No way!  The next day, he just can't get enough ticking and wrestling and hugging.  One day, he prefers to find his own entertainment and doesn't seem to notice me.  Other days, he just can't seem to let me walk from one room to the next without following me.

He is constantly surprising me, and yesterday was a classic example.  It was classic "Mitchell."

I had to make a phone call.  I wanted privacy while I did so.  I explained to Mitchell that he was to stay where he was, playing quietly and alone for just a few minutes.  He nodded in agreement.

When I finished my phone about 10 minutes later, he was standing right inside the door, hopping in place, big grin on his face.  He definitely had been up to something and was literally hopping up and down waiting for me to discover it.  I smiled and asked him what was up and he said, "Mom?  Do you notice any shopping bags hidden around the house?"

I looked around and yes, indeed, I did notice a few plastic shopping bags poking out of drawers and stashed under chairs.  "This is a treasure hunt and I hid special treasures in the shopping bags and you get to find them!  C'mon!"

Each time I found a new bag, I opened it up and inside was something on which he had "written" a message, which he would read out loud to me:

The bag under the kitchen table said "You are invited to a birthday party!"

The bag behind the couch said "I love you, Mom."

The bag in the bathroom said "It's pizza day!"

Behind the chair in his treasure room was a note saying "You're the best mom ever!"

Under Dad's desk in his office, the note said "I'll give you flowers in just a second!"

One under the couch read "I love your guts!"

On the stairs, the note said "You're the prettiest mom in the world!"

In my coat closet, tied around the mop, was a bag with a note saying "I'll meet you at the movie theater!"

Sticking out of my rain boot - "Meet me later.  I'll be at the flower store.  Get whatever you want!"

In a potted plant, he hid a note saying "Let's go to the crystal store.  There's jewelry there!"

And it all was intended to lead me in a treasure hunt to the grand prize (which was the first thing I noticed but was instructed that I did NOT see that yet and had to wait to see it until the end) which was hidden under a kitchen towel on the floor behind the table.  He bounced over to the spot, whipped the towel off, revealing an apple, a glass of water, and a pile of cereal on a paper towel.  "Now we get to have a special snack together!  Don't you just love this?"

As we sat on the floor, eating and drinking our special little snack together, just the two of us, I asked him what made him think to do such an adventurous and special thing for and with me.

"Oh, you know... I just thought you were special and you'd like it of course!"

I picked him up and squeezed him.  I must have squeezed a bit too hard and too long though because, true Mitchell style, he groaned, "Ok... That's enough hugging..."  and he ran off to find some other adventure.




Monday, April 30, 2012

War Paint

As I was getting dinner ready this evening, the boys began to trickle down from their upstairs activities.  First came Ben, then Mitchell, then... well... that was it.  Jack never trickled.

After a while, my curiosity got the better of me (plus it was time for dinner), so I went up to investigate.  I found him in my bathroom.  alone. Never a good sign.


Guesses?

I found him with two tubes of mascara, globby wand in each hand, brushing his hair and painting his face like war paint.  He grinned at me and said, "Look mom!  It's pretty like you!"

We let him wear it for dinner.  Nothing like giggling boys to make dinner stretch on even longer, but it was worth it.  He is a stinker... but hilarious.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Busted

My boys are on to me.

I can't get away with anything anymore!

When I go up to get Jack up from nap time, he gives a sniff and says, "I need some cashews too!"

When I am downstairs working on dinner (and snacking on thin mints...), then go up to get the boys for dinner, Mitchell will say, "Hey! I smell cookies! Are we having cookies for dinner?"

If I have a beer before dinner while Ben and I are doing homework, he will look up and say, "You kinda smell like daddy, mom..."

I'm going to have to step up my stealth game here if I am going to be able to eat cookies whenever I want or eat cashews without sharing...

Friday, April 13, 2012

Skippin'

Mitchell is not usually one to show emotion. It takes quite a bit to make him cry. He isn't overtly loving or quick to kiss or hug. He plays it cool... aloof... He's way too cool for his age...

But there is one thing that always gives Mitchell away: when he is happy and content, he skips.

When I drop him off for school in the morning, he doesn't want to give me a kiss goodbye or even give me a hug. He rarely even gives a second glance back at me. If I wasn't watching, I'd think he didn't care if I was ever coming back. But I watch him walk up the walk to the gate, see his friends waiting inside, and he stops walking and starts skipping. I know he is comfortable, secure, and excited.

When I watch him playing in the yard and he is really doing his thing, he skips from one place to another. He skips from the hose to the rope swing, then skips over to the slide to pour his bucket of water down it.

He even skips around the park after school with his friends. While they are walking or running, he is skipping.

I know he is having a tough day when he doesn't skip at all.

A tough kid for me to read at the best of times, I fully appreciate Mitchell's skip as a clue to how he is feeling. I love that skip...




The Troubles Of A Two-Year-Old

My boys have a pretty amazing lives. Unless I am seriously missing something, they are not lacking in many areas of life. Although we allow them to be boys - adventurous, messy, a little crazy, sometimes loud, and even almost dangerous at times, we provide everything they need and love and care for them with all we've got. Their lives are secure.

Despite this security, unconditional love, and comfort in life, they still have their own brand of troubles. Ben hates confrontation. He hates it when someone - anyone - is unhappy or upset. He is a secret perfectionist: doesn't, at first glance, seem terribly competitive, but is very tough on himself in reality.

Mitchell hates sharing food. If I take a bite of an apple, he won't come near it. If I take a pretzel out of his bag, he will pass on snack time. He loves physical attention and hugs and snuggles, but prefers not to be kissed. Even knowing this, I kiss him when I just can't help it. After every kiss, he wipes it off. He hates the idea of slobber, even when it is the driest kiss I can manage.

Jack, being the hilarious age he is, has the funniest troubles in life. Boogers. Jack cannot abide "boogies" Every morning, when I get him out of bed, he at some point rubs his nose, feels the crusties inside, and panics. "Mom! I have boogies! Get my boogies!" Try as I may, I cannot convince my youngest child to pick his own nose. This leaves me literally picking Jack's nose for him not just every morning, but multiple times throughout the day.

He also can't stand his socks being "crooked." I am not sure what this actually means, but often, I just don't quite put his sock on correctly, and his whole world falls apart. Until I tug and pull and twist and shift that sock sufficiently, life is unbearable.

One more thing he hates (and this is my favorite) is when his shirt gets shifted up at all. If we are playing or wrestling or... doing anything really and his shirt happens to come up above his belly button... oh man... STOP EVERYTHING! "Oh no!!! My belly is stickin' out!" He just hates his belly to show...

I may feel I have trouble in life, but at least I can pick my own nose, have no sock issues and my shirt isn't constantly ridin' up. Perspective...


Sunday, April 1, 2012

Ugly Doll Play Dates

My boys love each other. I'll admit, sometimes they fight. Sometimes they just can't seem to pull it together and love each other. Sometimes the tattling gets out of control. I occasionally have to separate them to remind them how much nicer it is to be together than apart.

But they always beg to be let out of isolation to get back to each other. They are best buddies, whether they admit it or not.

One evidence of their love of each other and bond they share despite anything that may have happened between them is how excited they are to share a bedroom and bunkbeds. Even years after they began sharing a room, they still get a kick out of it. Every night, after lights are out and mom and dad have said goodnight, they invent fun together. They just can't seem to get enough of silliness and fun at this time.

One of their favorite after bedtime games is called "Ugly Doll Play Date." If you are not familiar with Ugly Dolls, they are simply monster stuffed animals and my boys love them. They each have a few of them. They love to gather them up at night, climb up into the top bunk, and set up some sort of organized play date. I never stick around to find out exactly what goes on in these play dates, but I come in to break it up at some point and they are always in full swing with no intention of slowing down.

What an amazing thing to have a built in best friend who is with you no matter where you go or what your family does. As they grow up, they will have many opportunities to grow apart. It is one of my hearts deepest desires to see them only grow closer together in their brotherly bond (although, at some point, I suppose I hope they aren't still having Ugly Doll play dates...)

A Little Perspective

Jack is so stinkin' cute. The way he talks is just so funny and unique! He's got far more imagination and vocabulary than I feel any 2 year old should have! He cracks us up with something he says every single day.

Dozens of times a day, I hear Ben say something like "Oh mom, I love it when Jack says..." or "Isn't it funny how Jack always makes that same silly face every time he says...?" or "Did you hear how he said...?"

He has regular silly faces, he has way too much attitude, he can sing songs, and he charms the socks off everyone around him even when he is being a naughty little stinker.

Right now, he is in a phase where he likes to call his favorite gals "princesses." For a while, he thought "princess" was the same word as "girl" and used it accordingly, but now he saves the title for special times. Like yesterday. We were sitting around the living room, eating some licorice when he climbed up on me and said, "Mom, you're a princess!" Then he paused, looked at his licorice, and said, "But THIS is really a princess!"

So I got upstaged by a piece of licorice... Everyone needs a little perspective sometimes I guess.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Pure Awesomeness

Matt tells me that I do too much for our boys; things such as helping them dress, tying their shoes, pouring their cereal, brushing their teethe. I do realize the older two can do most of things without me, but I am usually trying to get out the door in some sort of time limit and I want their teethe actually clean so...

But I do try to let them do more things for themselves. I try to plan a few extra minutes into getting ready to allow for me to have more patience in this area.

It isn't just about being more patient with them learning though, it is having the ability to laugh at the results sometimes. I let Ben pick out and put on his own clothes this morning, and when he came downstairs, he looked great! I was so proud of him and he did it so quickly! It wasn't until after school, when he took his shoes off, that I noticed his pure awesomeness:


Like I said, pure awesomeness...

I'm Stuck!

Not one to patiently wait until my hands are free to help him with anything, Jack often finds himself frustrated in his attempts to take care of himself. Just this morning, the simple act of taking off his jacket was comical enough to me that, rather than help him once my hands were free, I picked up my camera:







Good job, buddy!



Painless Attacks

I know my blogs have all been about Jack lately, but he is just at that often trying, but so hilarious stage right now! Here's another dose of Jack:

Jack loves weapons: guns, swords, axes (yes, we have a toy axe... from a pirate costume I think??), sticks... he's always shooting and whacking things, including his mom. For about half a second, I considered not giving my kids toy weapons (I had to at least pretend I thought they were inappropriate) but in the absence of real toys, they all fashion their own out of sticks, tinker toys, legos, shoes, blankets... you name it - it can and will be made into some sort of weapon.

So it is no surprise that with two older brothers who are quite skilled in battle, that Jack has learned early how to defend himself.

What is different about Jack though is that because he is as young as he is, I don't think he quite gets what a weapon is actually for! He makes the appropriate motions and sound effects, but his words just don't quite match: "Pow! I shoot you mom!" When I feign injury, he quickly says, "Don't worry mom! It not gonna hurt!" He stabs me with a stick or whacks me in the behind and I genuinely am hurt and he assures me, "I not gonna hurt you!" He pretended to throw some sort of exploding weapon at me from the back seat today, and I said, "Ow!" His response: "No, mom! It not hurt you! It not gonna hurt!"

I think he doesn't quite get it. At least he doesn't actually want to hurt me. I have to say, I never hear him say that to his brothers. Perhaps he doesn't mind hurting them occasionally...



Dad!!!

I am doing things a bit opposite with Jack than I did with my older boys. Both my older two were sleeping in "big boy beds" before they were potty trained. As I don't need the crib for a new baby and I am not moving at the moment, I am in no hurry to move Jack out of the confines of his crib. So although he is potty trained, he is not able to get himself up in the morning to take care of business.

What does he do about this?

Well, since I was gone all weekend, Jack became quite attached to and used to his dad, so when he wakes up and needs to do his duty, he immediately starts yelling, "Dad!! Dad!! I need you! Come through my door! Open it! I'm ready to get up! Get me out of bed! Dad!! I need to poop! Dad!! Poop!" For those Will Ferrell fans out there, picture him yelling "Mom! Meatloaf!" and you will get the idea.

I love that he calls for dad now. It's too cute. I also love that he no longer wants to poop in his pants. However, I don't always love to rush into his room immediately after he wakes up at 6am. I miss the days when he would wake up, poop in his diaper, not care, and just sing and play and talk leisurely in his bed.

So what does he do now that mom is back on duty and dad isn't rushing in first thing in the morning? Well, he doesn't want to poop in his diaper, so this morning, after calling for dad and telling him he had to poop and no one showed up, he took his diaper off and pooped in his crib!

I heard that all on the monitor as well. "Dad! I need to poop! Dad! I'm pooping! Dad! I'm making a mess mess mess! Help, Dad!"

I really have no one to blame but myself. I am the one who keeps him trapped in his cage and I am the one who ignored his pleas for help. It is only fair that I am the one who had to wash him, his clothes, his sheet, his blankets, his giant stuffed dog, and his bibi.

As I was cleaning Jack up, he looked at me accusingly and said, "Mom, I needed dad! I pooped!" Glad Jack at least is blaming someone else...






Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bad to Worse

I am sick. I admit it. I hardly ever get sick, but now I am and I have been miserable. Part of what has made it so bad is that I was the last to get sick after everyone else was sick. So after dealing with sickness in my kids all week, I now have no energy left to fight!

But such is life and I'm a mom and life goes on. I can't stay in bed or take a nap or curl up under a blanket on the couch like my kids can and should when they are sick. I just medicate and keep going (albeit with just a tad of grumpiness thrown in there...)

After being stuck in the house all week last week with sick kids, I just had to get away after dropping the boys off at school, even though I was feeling like death. So where did I go? The gym. I can see now that perhaps was not the best place to go, but it seemed logical at the time.

Knowing cardio was out of the question unless I wanted my throat to close up and suffocate me (which I did not), I chose squats - a lot of squats.

When I finished the number I set out to do, I put the bar back on the rack and just laid down flat on my back for a good ten minutes, willing my throat to open back up so I could at least breath, let alone cough up the phlegm blocking the way.

Now, today, on top of the aches and pains of being sick, my body is aching all over! It had been a whole week since I visited the gym prior to that last one, so I may have overdone it a bit. I can hardly move. I'd kick myself if I could lift my leg...

Exactly!

Jack is well-loved on the playground. This I have stated before. The moms love him and he's got a whole group of girls who follow him around, doing whatever he demands. If he wants them to chase him, they chase him. If he wants to walk WAY over to the rainbow on the wall, they dutifully walk over there with him. If he wants to make bark hamburgers and ice cream, they pretend to eat it with him.

Of course, sometimes, he has had enough of the girls and just wants something a little more real - like warmer hands, food not made of dirt or bark, a drink of water, a kiss after he's fallen down, or, in yesterday's case, a can of seltzer water.

My friend was just carrying this half-full can of fizzy water around, torturing poor Jack with it. As I was talking to her for some time, he had plenty of time to notice it, want it, and repeatedly ask for it. As it wasn't mine to give him, I told him I'd find him some water elsewhere, but she stepped in and offered the rest of the can to him. I let him have it, fully expecting him to dislike the bitter fizziness.

His reaction to it was priceless: He took a tentative sip, smacked his lips, sighed, and said, "Ahh... Exactly!"

He then wiggled to get down and carried the can around the area, taking tiny sips and savoring each one in a similar manner. Not quite ready to be done running around, he did keep leaving it with me with the instructions "Keep it safe, mommy! Don't drink it!" and would come running back to me later in a panic crying, "Where's my drink?!"

There are clearly some very simple ways into my youngest child's heart.

BMOC

Mitchell has a tshirt that reads "BMOC" on the back and he has taken quite a liking to it. It is his favorite jammy shirt and often ends up sneaking back out of the laundry and back on him after I have already put something else on him. I am not sure why he likes it, other than it is soft and comfy, but he likes to have me remind him quite often what the letters stand for "Big Man On Campus." Who knows why Mitchell is what he is and likes what he likes. He just is :)

I have been thinking about his love of this shirt today as I reflect on the fact that he is almost five now! This doesn't shock me or make me wonder where the time has gone. In fact, he has seemed five for some time now to me. He just has an "oldness" and a "coolness" about him, I think. Five suits him well. It's a good age for him.

In true "cool" Mitchell style, he easily accepted and dealt with the fact that I would not be able to be here on his actual birthday. Perhaps it was so easy to accept because it meant he got to have his party a few days early.

Although we have all been battling sickness all week long, we went ahead with the party and everyone had fun. We made our own ice cream sundaes with more toppings than ice cream, painted robots (and the floor and the walls, and Jack's tummy, and dad's shoes...), and, of course, opened presents! He even got to get up early and go out with dad and pick out his own new bike!

Happy birthday, my Middle Boy! You bring humor and laughter and joy to my life every day! You are truly my "Dude-style" dude and I love you!

As cool as he was with me being gone on the real birthdate, I'm pretty sure he is holding out for some special "dude time" on his actual birthday. What that will consist of, I can only hazard a guess...











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