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?

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.

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.