Shades of Honesty

Matt and I have always prided ourselves in our honesty with each other.  Do you like my hair this color?  No, not really.  How do you like this new dinner tonight?  Hmm... not my favorite.  What do you think of this top?  I really don't like it at all!  Should I go running in just my spandex shorts and no shirt (this one is Matt, not me, of course!)?  Not unless you want a lot of stares of the wrong kind!  Does this shirt go with these pants?  Are you crazy? 

We have always stood by the principle that a compliment isn't a true compliment if everything is a compliment.  If I always look incredible and my dinners are amazing and delicious 100% of the time, how do I ever know when it's actually true and when it is just flattery?  How can I learn to avoid those unflattering tops and never make that unfavorable crockpot goulash again?  

We both have done well under this seaming unkind but almost always smile, giggle, or at least eye-roll-inducing honesty.  I really do prefer to know the truth rather than never quite know if he is being honest or trying to spare my feelings.

But lately, I find myself wanting to re-examine and, perhaps, re-define our policy on honesty.  As my age increases, my youthful beauty and ability to handle less-than-positive remarks about it are decreasing, and I find myself thinking, "Did you really have to be quite that honest with me?  Really?  You think the reason we have no decent pictures of me at all is because I don't know how to wear make-up and I might benefit from false eyelashes?  Did that really have to be said and why are you so surprised that I prefer to read my book tonight instead of... well, other things?

I am sure I am just as guilty as he, or perhaps his skin has not begun to thin yet.  At least with physical appearance issues, as long as he doesn't begin to loose hair or gain extra pounds, he won't deal with problems like this for quite some time, if ever.  He will probably always wear his spandex for running and always think they look good, even in the decades to come, I suspect.  

I Really Don't Have Time For This

I have a lot to get done on a school morning.  I have to get Jack up, fed, diaper changed, and dressed.  I then have to wake up two sleepy boys, help them get dressed, shoes on and tied, and bladders drained.  I then have to get them fed and make lunches, get teeth brushed, make sure Ben's homework is done and signed, then somehow find time to get out of my jammies, then get us all into jackets and backpacks and out the door in time!  

Thank goodness Jack is such an early riser.  He normally wakes up so early, that I have plenty of time to get all this accomplished without too much rush.  I actually usually enjoy our morning routine and having so many good reasons to get up and get going first thing.  Normally, things flow along smoothly as long as everyone keeps moving.

Then there are the mornings that Jack decides to throw us off by sleeping in (well, sleeping in for us is sleeping any time past 6.)  When this happens, I oversleep and suddenly, what I normally have a couple hours to do while drinking my coffee, I now have to squish into one hour (how do I drink my coffee under such pressure?)

So this morning, amidst the craziness of trying to get the proper pants on the proper boy and making sure Jack doesn't have to do drop off in a poopy diaper, Ben and Mitchell decide they want to play dinosaurs!  Ok, I'm thinking, you may be dinosaurs while you get ready.  All is fine until Mitchell decides to mess with Ben, my play-by-the-rules boy.  Mitchell decided that he will be a dinosaur, but the only detail he will give about himself is that he is a sky-diving dinosaur.  This just ticked Ben off, as he was wanting Mitchell to give his full stats: what is your species, size, color, age, and name?  Nope, not gonna tell you, Ben.  I am just a sky-diving dinosaur with no name!  Deal with it!

Well, Ben was not happy about this and continued to push Mitchell to the point that he was no longer having fun messing with Ben and they both started complaining/whining to me!  "Mom, Mitchell isn't playing right!  Dinosaurs don't sky dive and he won't tell me his name!"  "Mom, Ben won't let me be what I want to be!  I'm the boss of me!"

All this is happening while I am still in my jammies, tying shoelaces for big boys while being climbed upon by a baby boy and I just didn't have it in me to handle it with any sort of grace or creativity, so I just looked at them and said, "I really don't have time for this" and walked away.  

Sometimes I just can't be the mediator in a silly argument between two stubborn boys and maybe I do it too much already anyways.  My desire to have them never bickering is a tad unrealistic and perhaps even unhealthy.  It grates on my nerves when they do this, but if someone told me (like my husband) that I was never allowed to disagree or argue with the person closest to me whom I love the most but also bugs me the most often, I'd probably give quite a skeptical scowl, if not laugh outright!  

So this is one rule I am going to re-think.  It can't be a rule just because it bugs mom.  I am going to use the line "I don't have time for this, I know you can figure this out on your own" more often.  

PS - "From the Peanut Gallery" (This is Matt hijacking the computer because I just got home to an empty house and had this on the desktop).  I laughed out loud at this - mostly because I am glad I was in another state during this morning's drama, and partly because my wife conveyed the situation with such precision that I felt like I was there!

A Little Light Reading

After pointing out to Matt that we have not been doing a very good job reading to our third child, he decided to rectify the situation and make up for lost time.  Here they are, doing a bit of "light reading."

Although this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I said "read to him," I do appreciate it when he takes my suggestions seriously.

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

I know a lot of moms (and some dads too) are anti-guns and weapons when it comes to play things for their boys.  How you keep them from making their own weapons out of sticks, pieces of race track, and toilet paper tubes is something I'd be interested in hearing about though!

I don't feel very strongly on the subject.  I do give them some boundaries and rules regarding their use of weapons, but I do I allow them to mock fight and use foam swords and to let their creativity abound when it comes to fashioning their own weapons and hunting down "bad guys" in the back yard.  Their world is full of sticks and strings and interesting-shaped things that are just begging to be used in this manner!

So my boys play with weapons and feel quite heroic while doing it, I must say.  Today, they watched a bit of Robin  Hood before they tired of that and decided the day was just too beautiful to sit on a couch watching cartoons and they'd rather BE Robin Hood out in the backyard!

That is how I left things when I took off for the grocery store.  When I returned home, they had fully emersed themselves in the game and even enlisted the biggest boy: daddy (who is also a HUGE Robin Hood fan.)  Ben was busy shooting arrows at multiple targets with his home-made bow fashioned out of a piece of race track and a string (don't think that toy will work as a race track anymore...)  

Mitchell and Dad were up to worse though - they had out Matt's pellet gun and were shooting little yellow foam things all over the yard!  Now, these do not come out very fast and Mitchell was heavily supervised anyways, but that gun does not look like a toy and I cringe every time all three boys play with it together.  Although it looks it, it is not actually a dangerous toy - not unless, that is, you shoot it at your or someone else's eye!  

Boys are boys and, in my opinion, it is healthy for them to pretend to fight bad guys.  I love to watch them rescuing each other and other pretend characters.  But every time that ominous-looking toy gun comes out, the words of all the adult figures from "A Christmas Story" echo in my head: "You'll shoot your eye out!"  Someday that gun will mysteriously disappear and I will claim no knowledge of it's whereabouts...

What Could Be Better Than A Fort?

I think I have mentioned this before, but I think it is safe to say it again: I love fort-building.  It is one thing that meets all my criteria for a fun activity for everyone, not just some of us.  Why do I love this activity?

1. Everyone can participate/play

2. Everyone can help and give ideas (except maybe Jack...)

3. It uses physical energy as well as creative/mental energy

4. It often lasts quite a while (sometimes days)

5. The only mess is blankets and pillows

Yesterday, since Matt was using the living room for working, the boys and I decided to leave him in solitude and camp out upstairs, literally.  We got out every spare blanket we own (plus some that are not spares, but we just needed them!) and even completely rearranged their bedroom furniture so as to maximize fort-building efforts!  The result was one killer fort that was so big and had so many passages and separate rooms, that I kept hearing, "Hey!  Where are you, Ben?" and "Where did Jack go?  Oh, he's over in the dragon training room!"  Questions such as "Is mom still in here?" and "Did she sneak into the dungeon or is she in the guard room?" where common types of questions as we actually could loose each other in there.  

At bedtime, we were faced with a decision: tear it down or sleep in it?  We had to make this decision, as all their bedding was being used as roof pieces and they had nothing left on their beds!  I don't think I even need to tell you what we chose, even though it pretty much guaranteed a shorter night of sleep on a school night: yes, they slept in it.  They could have each had their own room, but they don't want that in real life, so why would they choose it now?  What kind of fun/mischief is to be had when you are separated?

I am quite proud of my/our finished product, but we already have plans to re-group and re-build it today.  Ben is even going to draw up the "map" of how he would like to see it built.  His ideas can get pretty "out there" as far as what is actually possibly with only furniture and blankets, but we will try our best!

So It Begins

Needing something to do today to get out of the house, Mitchell, Jack, and I headed off to the craft store.  I can always use something from there and we needed an excuse to get out.  Mitchell LOVES the craft store, mainly because there is always some holiday close enough for this type of store to just go nuts over it.  For the last couple months, it has been all the Halloween decorations that have enthralled him - spooky costumes, skeletons, costume "weapons" and anything "haunted" (which to him, just means scary) were his favorite points of interest.  But I am finding out that was nothing compared to what is coming.

When we walked through the doors, Mitchell's eyes got as wide as can be and he just stared.  He literally stopped moving and just stared.  I feel like we were just there a couple days ago, but since then, the place has completely transformed into Christmas land!  He was too young last year, and we were busy with a new baby and just didn't get out as much during this season, so I think this really hit him as something never seen before.  Once his thoughts caught up to his initial physical reaction, he exclaimed, "Mom!  It's already Christmas in here!  Let's stay here all day!"

Oh Mitchell, you have made my day.  Yes, it is a bit early to be so excited about Christmas, but you have captured for me what Christmas can mean to a child.  He was so enchanted by every last thing on the shelves.  Each one was magical and worthy of complete inspection and discussion.  He was trying reindeer antlers on Jack, putting on Santa hats, ringing loud bells, rubbing sparkles off ornaments and onto his face, literally skipping up and down isles, shaking snow globes, asking questions, looking for Baby Jesus, and keeping Jack and me quite entertained.  

His top picks (for me to buy for him for making our house look just like this store) were:

reindeer antlers for baby Jack

a GIANT tree

loud jingle bells for the door

a cheesy snowman/penguin candle

a giant ornament covered in loose sparkles that were falling off everywhere

cookie decorating kit

Santa costume 

a dog elf costume (I don't think he  knows what an elf is or that it was for a dog)

No, I did not actually buy any of this stuff.  He actually wasn't upset by that at all.  He was just having way too much fun "shopping for cool stuff" as he put it, and didn't seem to have any expectation of actually buying it.  

I remember when Christmas was so enchanting for me and I can't remember when it lost that magic exactly.  Since then though, this is what I have been waiting for: to see my kids' faces light up over the things that have lost their luster for me and do my best to establish traditions (some borrowed from my childhood, some new) for them that will only  make this season even more special and meaningful for them.  Thank you for brightening my day with your enthusiasm and childlike wonder, Mitchell!  We will definitely be back soon!

Not the Usual Suspect

When I threw something away in the kitchen garbage yesterday, I noticed a pair of Matt's shoes in there.  Hmm... This one has "Mitchell" written all over it.  For a while, he went through a phase where he threw all sorts of valuables away, but that was some time ago now, and lately I haven't noticed anything either missing or in the garbage that shouldn't be.

But now, suddenly, there are shoes in the garbage.  No one was around at the time to question, so I made a mental note to talk to Matt and Mitchell about it later.

Of course, I totally forgot about the shoes in the garbage until later that night when I went to throw something away in my bathroom garbage, only to find yet another pair of Matt's shoes in this garbage can as well!  What in the world is going on here?!

This time, I immediately found Matt and asked him if he was missing any shoes.  When he answered "no," I broke the news to him: "Are you aware that someone is throwing away your shoes all over the house?  Naturally, I suspect Mitchell"  At this point, he burst out laughing at my suspicious behavior and admitted that he had thrown them away himself.  His laughter was so genuine and infectious that I got caught up in the moment, laughing aloud with him at the silliness of it all and at my instinct to blame my mischievous middle child, that I forgot to ask why he was systematically filling up my garbage cans with enormous shoes!