Never Thought I'd Be Doing This!

Ben and Mitchell are planning a play for Matt's birthday. They came up with the story, the characters (a dragon and a skeleton, of course), painted the sets on big cut up moving boxes (with a little help from mom, but I'm just about as artistically gifted as they are), found costumes, and even found a part for me, the lone girl!

Now what part could a mere "girl" play in their fantastic performance (besides organizing and overseeing this whole production, plus being the narrator)? Well, I get to be the fairy. What did I expect? I'm a girl!

Once I was assigned a role in the play, the question of what my costume should be came up. Now since I have no little girls, I have no princess accessories; no wings, no magic wands, no glittery skirts or tutus. Ben suggested I find a costume store and stock up on some costume staples, as he just might need me to play a fairy more than once. "You will need this stuff again, mom!"

Well, I don't know of any fairy princess stores around here, so we decided to draw, cut out, and paint some giant cardboard wings for me. So that is what I have been doing for Jack's entire nap today: painting my fairy wings.

I have three boys. I have come up with plenty of dragon and monster and dinosaur costumes, but I never thought I'd find myself making fairy wings!

When I asked what part Jack could play, Ben thought about it for a bit and said, "The only thing he could be would be a tornado that messes it all up!"

Too Good To Keep It Quiet

As I was racing through the aisles at Costco a few weeks ago with all my kids riding on/hanging onto the cart in some life-threatening (or, at least, toe/foot-threatening) way, we stumbled upon the coveted "snack lady." This time, she was handing out tiny helpings of frozen deliciousness: Icees - the boys new favorite frozen treat.

All three of my boys gobbled theirs down in no time and I had to keep "circling the block" to "happen" upon this poor little old lady who was so slowly and methodically cutting them up into tiny, bite-sized pieces and even more slowly arranging the individual bites into a nice little arrangement on her tray before she'd let anyone touch them.

I tried to avoid her evil eye and ease her annoyance at us for taking so many of her little creations of art, by picking up two boxes of what she was promoting, making sure she saw me put them in the cart, amidst cheers from my kids. It's not every day mom actually buys the yummy treat they ask for!

These are loaded with sugar I'm sure, and the bright colors dye my boys tongues and lips green, red, and, worst of all, blue, but they are a fun and refreshing treat on these hot summer days. They can get them themselves and open them themselves. Other than the permission part, it is a mom's-help-free snack!

The bad news is Jack. He also loves these things but isn't quite so good at eating them. They are too cold on his teeth, so he never bites them, just licks and licks until they are melting all over him. He hasn't quite gotten the squeezing technique down either, so he just spills it all over himself, drops it out of the wrapper, and picks it up with his hands, melting the terribly bright juice all over his hands, arms, face, clothes, and anything in a 3 foot radius.

So we now try to sneak a snack without Jack knowing. It is a difficult thing to attempt. Poor little guy... I'm not trying to deprive him, but I do hate that mess!

Yesterday, the big boys successfully snagged one for themselves out of the freezer, and used their super secret spy moves to smuggle it outside to eat it before Jack was any wiser. I did my part by keeping him occupied with something else, and the mission was going down smoothly. Ben finished his, snuck back in, threw his garbage away. So far so good. But then Mitchell came in a few minutes later, waving his empty wrapper at me, saying, "Look mom! I finished mine without letting Jack see me even once!" Jack took one look at that wrapper, dropped what he was doing, and ran to the freezer, shouting, "Icee! Icee! Pees! Pees!"

Ah shucks... Mitchell just has such a hard time keeping good things secret! Even this time, when he was trying, he still couldn't keep from letting Jack in on it. He will do the same thing any time he gets something Ben doesn't get. He will go out of his way to find Ben wherever he is and either show him what he got or tell him all about it. It really is impossible to just give something to Mitchell. It's just too good for him to keep it quiet.

Sometimes My Better Judgement Is Wrong

One of Matt's coworkers gave us his seats at a soccer game tonight. Very generous of him, but I am betting he doesn't have 3 kids 6 and under that he takes with him every time. My first reaction was, "Uh, thanks but no thanks!"

My attitude toward going only worsened during the day today. It... was... hot today. We laid around the house, attempted to play outside for a bit, getting on each others' nerves, watching the clock waiting for this darn game to begin. I truly almost sent Matt with the big boys and stayed home with my little one. It's just too hot for this nonsense. And I'm not even much of a fan of any sport!

Well, I'm glad I went against my better judgement on this one. We had a blast! I was happy because I got to get out of the house and actually do something and even happier that I got to eat a giant, salty soft pretzel with extra cheese sauce. Ben and Mitchell were happy to see the giant stadium, sit in the second row, eat junk food, guzzle Gatorade, yell and boo, and sit next to "Mad Cow" who had his face painted crazy, a giant silver hoop through his nose, and constantly shouted obscenities at the opposing team.

I admit, for the 15 minutes of so I actually got to sit and watch the game, (before the food ran out and Jack needed something else to do and we had to spend the rest of the time cruising the concessions, making friends, eating food, jumping up and down stairs, and being amazed with anything out of the ordinary) I actually enjoyed watching it! It really makes a difference to be in the second row, surrounded by lunatics, actually able to see what is going on!

We left before it was over. A true fan of the team would have found this experience quite frustrating, as they would not have been able to actually watch the game, but our attitude of "let's just try it out for as long as it lasts to see how it goes" worked out perfectly. We knew it would be overambitious to try to stay for the whole game, so we stopped buying more junk food and left while we were still ahead.

The boys are still talking about "next time," wearing their old soccer jerseys, and playing soccer matches with their ugly dolls (with plenty of chanting, cheering, and unusual rules.) It's getting almost as wild as the real thing...

Sometimes, mom's desire to stay cool and comfortable makes us miss out on fun (although sweaty) events such as tonight. I guess I don't always know best.

I'd Say That Counts

As I sent the big boys off to the basement for a little "quiet" time so I could go upstairs and shower uninterrupted, I reminded them that they needed to stay put until I came down to get them. Being the lone female in my house, I don't love tattling visitors while showering. A girl's got to have a bit of privacy!

I told them I wanted them to stay playing downstairs and not to come get me unless there was an emergency. Ben looked at me and said, "Would it be an emergency if Mitchell's leg got cut off?"

Yes, I think that would count as an emergency. When I told him they may come get me if Mitchell's leg came off somehow, the launched into a heated debate as to who would come get me and how. Ben didn't think Mitchell would be able to manage the stairs with one leg and a bloody stump, but Mitchell insisted he could hop up on one foot to show me.

They were still discussing other possibly bloody emergencies on their way down the stairs, but somehow they made it through one more quiet time in one piece.

Just Go To Sleep!

I may have gone a bit overboard with the whole "it's summer-no school in the morning-we're moving-sleep as late as you want-it's hot so take long naps again-eat dinners late-go to bed late" routine we have slipped into.

It was fun at first. The boys have been getting some extra time with Matt at night and making up for it by sleeping in late. It is beginning to wear on me though. I can often hear the big boys thumping and giggling and goofing off in their room as I am finally going to bed and drifting off to sleep myself.

Today, since Matt is traveling, I decided to begin to bring back the old schedule and I tried to stack the deck in my favor. I woke them up early, did not allow them to nap, bought them a slip n slide (ok, that was just for fun and not part of my plan) which they played on out in the sun all day long, ate dinner at a reasonable hour, even watched a movie to get them in the proper sleeping position at least!

They looked pretty tired when I marched them up to bed, and as I was tucking them in, I reminded them how tired they were and that they should have no problem just falling right to sleep. Ben looked at me like I just told him to sleep naked on the roof or something and said, "We can't do that! We never just fall right to sleep! We have plans!"

I then tried a different tactic. I pointed out that Dad is not here and that I was going to be in the shower, so please don't wander the house looking for me to tattle on each other or ask if you can have your light saber in bed. I won't be able to hear you. This was also a dumb thing for me to say, I guess. "Oh mom, I think we can find you. I know where your shower is. Silly... And anyways, when I can't find you, I just send Mitchell and he always finds you!"

I finally just said, "Ben, just stay in your bed and talk quietly, ok?" To which he answered, "But I might have to poop! What if I need a drink? What if I want to look out the window for Kevin (the neighbor)?"

This is when I just stopped talking. Clearly, he is his father's son and prefers to get the last word in. I just ended it with a strange combination of "I love you" mixed with evil eye... I heard giggling from both of them as I walked down the hallway, but they were asleep by the time I was done showering and I didn't have any visitors while I was in there.

Boonts!

Jack has been making quite a bit of progress in his speech over the last month. I can no longer measure his vocabulary in neat and easy terms such as "Yeah, he has about a dozen words." I can no longer list all his well-used words off the top of my head, and I am not the only person who can understand his words anymore.

Despite his advances, the last week or so, he has begun adding his own flair to his words, that are a funny but frustrating development. He is adding a "ch" or "ts" to the end of many of his words. One of his most-used words, fan, has become "fanch." Hands have become "hants." Spoon = "foonch." Even his brother has gotten a new name - "Bents."

My new favorite evolution though is his new word for balloon: boonts!

Yesterday, I bought a bag of water balloons and they kept us busy all day. I must have filled and tied hundreds of balloons. Keeping up with three boys who can explode them faster than I can fill them keeps a mom occupied (and more than a little wet.) Every time Jack needed a new balloon filled, he would hand me an empty one and say, "boonts! boonts! boonts!" until I finished filling it for him.

Now half a dozen "boonts!" for every balloon I filled for him equals A LOT of the same word over and over again!

It must have been cute and catchy enough though, because the rest of us eventually started calling the water balloons "boonts" as well, and now they big boys say it without even using a baby voice or laughing. That is just what they are calling them now, apparently.

Today promises to be another hot one and with daddy out of town, I think we will probably use up the rest of our "boonts" (and possibly the rest of my sanity as well...)

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.