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!"

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.  

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...

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.

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!

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...