The Countdown

Jack has developed an interesting countdown.  First of all, I'm impressed with his ability to count backwards.  Secondly, and more importantly, I am impressed with his... embellishments!  It goes something like this:

10.. 9... 8... 5... 7... cereal... 4... 7... Mitchell... 1... BLAST OFF!!!

Let me tell you, it never gets old.  The more Ben and Mitchell laugh at it, the more encouraged Jack gets and the sillier and crazier the countdown gets.  At some point, it really just looses the ability to be called a countdown anymore and becomes a constant stream of silly words and giggling boys.

And of course, what sort of countdown can be considered complete without a space helmet to make it official.

New Kids on the Block

I have moved many times. Seems like I am forever the new girl. And I have had many neighbors, some more enjoyable than others.

This fall, I find myself in yet another new place, with a whole new set of neighbors. I'm getting pretty good at starting over.

Although I have moved plenty of times, I have to say, not once have I received a welcome gift - until now!

Being the new kid on the block isn't always so bad...

Junkyard Wars: The Jet

Ben and Mitchell have a new obsession.  Remember that show Junkyard Wars from a few years back? The series where teams of people run around a junk yard, collecting bits and pieces to put together something, quite frankly, a little unbelievable?

Ben and Mitchell are fascinated.  And they think if only they had access to a junk yard, all their dreams of building, owning, and operating a jet powered trike would come true.  It looks so simple to them, and it gets their imaginations bursting at the seams.

Just a few nights ago, after school, it was dinner time and getting dark and chilly out.  Dinner was ready and getting cold, but I just couldn't bear to stop the boys from what they were doing.  They had emptied out the garage, finding stuff I didn't even know what in there, busily building a two-man jet.  They weren't quite finished adding improvements to it and were having the time of their lives.  This time, I let dinner get cold.  That's what a microwave is for.  They played until past dark.  But they built their jet.

Mission accomplished!

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.