Girlish

As many of you know, we generally like to do things "dude style" around here. After all, one lone female is not enough to balance things out so I've let go of some of my more... optimistic hopes in raising kids: things like never having pee on the floor, drinking out of cups rather than straight from the carton or faucet, a neat and tidy yard free of all the random sticks from the entire neighborhood, wearing pajamas to bed rather than nothing, and peace and quiet at any time of the day. I'm dealing with those things. I'm adapting. And constantly picking up sticks.

As Jack gets older and smarter, he's picking up on and embracing dude style as well. But he has taken it to a new level by defining its polar opposite: girlish. Anything he suspects his big brothers would frown upon is labeled "girlish," like, "Mom, if I wear those red pants, its ok! It's not girlish!" Or, "I don't want you to snuggle me right now, mom, it's too girlish." A couple days ago when I asked him to talk on the phone to a loved one he ran away yelling, "I can't!! Talking on the phone is too girlish!!"

Good point, Jack. You win that one.

That's Mine!

Matt likes most food. He eats most things I buy and make and rarely asks for something I don't normally get, but for some reason, I almost always ask him if he wants me to pick him up anything special when I am heading out shopping. He always gives me a look like "Why do you always ask me this? My answer is always the same!"

Well, this week, he actually made a request: beef jerky! I think the most recent package from my parents (which always includes jerky for Matt) got him thinking about it. Since he ate that entire package in under 5 minutes, he must have had a hankering for more!

So while I was at Costco, I got quite a few giant bags, with the intention of rationing Matt by hiding some of them. He was quite pleased with a large stash of his favorite snack.

He was pleased, that is, until I informed him that all three of his sons love beef jerky as much as he does! I thought he'd be pleased and call it "dude style," but his first reaction was the opposite: "What? You gave them some of my jerky? That's mine! They're going to eat it all!"

Haha... now he knows how I feel when he polishes off something from the fridge that I just got!I know the point in buying food is to eat it, but I hate seeing it disappear so quickly. So I completely understand his reaction; it was just so funny coming from him!

We Survived - Dude Style!

For those of you who aren't aware, I live on the East Coast. As I recently canceled my cable service and haven't turned my TV on for anything other than our new Apple TV (which rocks, by the way!), the first I became aware that a hurricane was heading my way was from the many loved ones sending concerned emails and phone calls. It was sunny and warm and beautiful. I had my doubts any serious weather was brewing. My panic level was at an extreme low.

Well, a day later, the sky was a tad darker and it was raining a little, but I still laughed in the face of the danger those far away seemed so concerned about.

Well, Irene came and went during the night. We only suffered a flooded yard, leaves covering everything, two downed power lines, and a little wind and rain. Most of it occurred during the night.

What do you do with a house full of not only my kids, but my adorable little niece as well when it is this windy outside? Go outside of course! Matt took them outside with some giant garbage bags as sails and had them wait at the top of the hill until a gust would come, then they'd come flying down the hill, pushed along with their sails flapping and pulling them fast enough to make them shout and scream in delight.

Although Matt finally tired of running in the wind, my dudes kept it up all day. That big black garbage bag has seen more use now than many of their actual toys. Ben was a big black ghost. Mitchell was running and sliding on it in the wet grass. They pulled each other around and swung them onto their bums.

So we survived Hurricane Irene with very little inconvenience and a whole lot of dude-style fun! I wonder what their reaction would be if they each received a large, black garbage bag in their Christmas stocking this year....

Dirt, Dude Style

Summer is all about getting sweaty and dirty when you're a "dude." At least, that is what my boys tell me when I ask how they get so dirty.

They tell me I shouldn't worry about it too much, it's "dude style" to get dirty and make messes.

Mitchell can't quite decide if dirty feet is a good thing or a bad thing though. He has a certain pair of shoes that he LOVES because they are exactly like daddy's and he gets to slip them on with no socks, but they also make his feet quite stinky and sweaty. Every time he kicks them off, he has to sit down and clean out between each of his toes with his finger. It is so funny to see him sitting on the floor, foot pulled up into his lap, methodically wiping the dirt out from between each of his toes.

The other day, he kicked his shoes off in the car though and began his cleaning ritual right there in his seat next to Ben. Ben was severely grossed out and said, "Ew, Mitchell! Stop taking your stinky shoes off and stop touching your stinky toes! Don't even think about touching me now!"

Mitchell didn't even look up from his grooming, just said, "Ben, my feet are dirty and I'm cleaning them 'dude style'."

I am constantly getting schooled as to what exactly "dude style" means. Apparently, it includes both having dirty feet and also cleaning dirty feet with your fingers in the car.

Dude Style

I am surrounded by males in my house, so naturally, there are things I prefer not to be done that make sense to me, a female, but don't seem to be so black and white for the rest of my family. I have learned that when I am the only one who thinks a rule or a style of doing something makes sense or is the best way, the alternative gets called "dude style."

Some examples of dude style:

Drinking milk out of the carton

Going outside in the cold or rain with no jacket

Riding bikes with no helmet

Not washing hands before meals

Sleeping with as little clothes on as possible

When I ask Mitchell if he would like to get his jacket on before we go pick up Ben at school, he replies, "Nah... I'll just go 'dude style'."

When I ask Ben where his pajamas are and why he woke up almost naked in the morning: "I was hot so I slept 'dude style'."

"I couldn't reach a cup, so I drank some milk 'dude style'!"

I'm sure I am missing out on many things by not having any other little females in my family, but my dudes sure do seem like the perfect fit for me as a mother. I do have to admit, "dude style" does seem the way to go sometimes...

The Exercise Game

Matt and the boys have started a new nightly routine: they call it "The Exercise Game." It's a "dude thing," which means no moms allowed, but I was privileged to get to observe tonight. I don't laugh out loud very often, so this was quite a treat for me!

The rules are pretty simple: draw a card from a deck and whatever number you get, that is the number of times you perform an exercise of your choice. Matt, Ben, and Mitchell take turns drawing cards and coming up with an exercise for them all to do.

Tonight, they did 21 different exercises. Don't think young boys can come up with that many different types of exercise? Well, they began with some normal sounding ones such as squats, leg-lifts, push-ups, and lunges, but then started getting a bit more creative. Ben's turns resulted in exercises named dinosaur leg lifts and pooping dogs, but at least the activity to go with them closely resembled a more traditional type of exercise.

Mitchell's turns got funnier and funnier (to me at least. The guys were all taking them quite seriously.) He invented exercises with names like breeps, proos, bleems, and blaxopes; and the corresponding actions to go with these names were even funnier. There were spin moves and jumps and kicks and flexing, always with claw-like fingers and sound effects. He'd draw his number card, invent his exercise, demonstrate it to the other two, and around the living room they'd go - mimicking Mitchell's every move, as if it was a perfectly normal exercise routine. It was hilarious!

The nightly exercise game is always followed by a glass of milk (to help the muscles grow, doncha know) and some good "dude talk." Oh, it was an entertaining evening.

Saved by the Hot Tub and a Party in the Dude Room

For the last few days, we have been on our "Beach vacation," as the boys call it. We have had a blast playing on the beach and just goofing around in general together with no work or other distractions. We had a great time.

We got off to a bit of a rough start though when the rain threatened to ruin our first day. It was raining when we arrived, but since it was still warm out, the boys would not be swayed in their desire to immediately play on the beach. This vacation was supposed to be about having fun and doing crazy things together, and a little rain never hurt anyone, so we decided to get a little wet and play in the sand. Playing in the sand turned into jumping off the dunes and rolling down them and all sorts of contests involving jumping, rolling, wrestling, pushing, and the like. I'm pretty sure the boys had a great time, but we got thoroughly soaked and more than a little covered in sand. Needless to say, mom was not having a great time at this point.

When we got back though, the boys and daddy all jumped in the "hot tubby" and that filled the rest of their afternoon. They had never been in a hot tub before and thought it was just the greatest thing! The little control panel to adjust jets and temperature was turned into a master computer that performed all sorts of important functions and the jets at their strongest were the coolest thing for them! When they came back in, Ben exclaimed, "Mom, those jets are so strong they blow me around and around in circles in there!"

After a wet day in the rain at the beach, and then getting blown around in circles in the hot tub, it was definately time to explore the house a bit more thoroughly. They were overjoyed to discover that not only did they get to share a big bed in their own room, but they had their own TV and a radio to "blast the tunes,"

as Ben put it. So blast the tunes, they did. They kept running back out to the living room to invite daddy to the "Dude party in our room! No mommies, the music is too loud!" It really was too loud for me, to be honest. How well they know me...