My Weblog

Living with Boys

Recently I got a little insight into the wonderful world of boys. There are three of them living in my house, making Sophia and I completely outnumbered. Good thing those boys rely on me for things like food and clothing otherwise they may stage a mutiny.

My boys are sweet. All three of them. The other day Ethan and Sam and I went to Wal-mart. I haven't been there since we discovered Sam's allergies, but as soon as we walked in Ethan remembered they have toys. Oh, joy. We started out in the produce section (which I bypassed. I still want my organics and they didn't have them!) and as we rounded the very first aisle (coffee, which smells heavenly)... I had a little conversation with my oldest son:

Ethan: Mom, if I'm good in this store, can we get Sam a toy?

Me: Huh? (I think I stopped pushing the cart at this point and just stared at him. My expression, I'm sure, surprised him. I think he thought he was in trouble.)

Ethan: If I'm good, can we go back to the toys and pick out a car for Sam?

Me: You want to earn Sam a toy?

Ethan: Yeah. I think he'd like a car.

Sam is really into Cars, the movie. Ethan is a really good big brother. You better believe I got them both a new car.

Yes, Sam is almost two and still has the occasional bottle. Don't judge me. I know my many weaknesses.

Anyway, my boys are fun. Last Saturday was our first Saturday home together since before the show started. That's since August 29th! We are a homey family. We like to be in our house and we find ways to invent our own fun. At least that's the excuse I give for never leaving. The truth is, I just like to wear pajamas and going out and about in them might warrant me a nomination on "What Not to Wear." Come to think of it, maybe that's a good plan... hmmm...

So, Saturday rolls around and we have no plans. It's Halloween so we figure we'll go down to my parents and hang out there mostly because SOMEone never got around to buying costumes. We're saying it's because we don't celebrate Halloween. I suppose there is truth in that...I don't like where it originated, but I do like letting the kids dress up. It's a tough call, and I think the jury of my mind is still out on that one. But I admit I didn't take them trick or treating because it was so incredibly freezing here and I didn't have time to get them costumes. 

Sigh. Now I feel guilty.

Anyway, the day was filled with a lot of hanging around the house, and that means making our own fun. Living with a children's pastor, this is rarely hard to come by. Adam is like a big kid. I am not. I have a hard time finding the humor in bodily functions, but I let them be boys.

And I even let them throw the ball in the house.

And jump on the furniture.

Or should I say...jump OFF the furniture?

I wish I could tell you my six year old started this, but the real culprit:

That's when you lose all power to tell the kids to stop...so why fight it?

The fun never ends...

He did get some serious air, I gotta say.

Every time Adam moved he had to run back because Sam was up on the chair, and for some reason Sam has no fear. So, instead of jumping, he would just fall face first (like a trust fall, only forward) into the pillows.

Eventually Sam found his own way. Starting back at the fridge and running as fast as he could straight into the pile of pillows...

I should note that while this was going on, Sophia was happily playing on the computer (Webkinz). Such a girl. ha.

Eventually, my crazy monkeys did settle down.

 ...and they remind me once again how lucky I am to live in a house full of boys.
 
 
 
  

Out of the mouths of babes...

It's been hard getting back into the swing of things now that Godspell is over. Having something so huge to work on and put your energy to really keeps you busy. Especially when six of your cast members are too sick to perform and you yourself spend two days before Opening Night hugging the toilet. (I blame the Tamiflu.)

Yes, many, many things suffered during this time...

Case in point: My kitchen:

During show week, cleaning was not a top priority. Clearly.

If you look closely, you can see the dust on the floor. It's a sad, sad sight.

But truly, as hard as being gone was on our house, I think it was even harder on the Monkey.

He looks so hopeful, doesn't he? Expectant? Like "Mommy, take me with you when you leave."

"Please? I'm really cute and I'll be good."

It was hard to leave him so much--especially that last week of the show. They were with sitters all but one day and that was the day I became a toilet-hugger. (and incidentally, that was also the only rain-less day we've had in about three weeks. Talk about depressing.)

Yes. Sam has since made it known he didn't appreciate my leaving him so often, making this week, well, less than fun. Let's say that. It sounds nicer. But that cute little face has decided to hibernate for awhile. Instead, I've been getting accustomed to this guy:

And while I do love him and his mis-matched pajamas, he has made life very difficult the past week. I suppose it's payback, you know, I made his life hard so he's returning the favor, maybe?

I admit this behavior does not bring out the best in me. At all. I get very...fun, let's just say that because it sounds nicer. Basically my days consist of me carrying this 37 pounder all over the place because if I leave the room, I get more of this:

 

(Side note: I think perhaps my snapping photos of him in these moods is contributing to his hatred of the camera. Everytime he sees it, he yells "NO PICTURE MOMMY!" Do you think these two things are related?)

Not the point. The point is... that my older rugrats are home from school and yesterday I found this note on the counter...

 

Ah, gotta love advice from an 8 year old. A wonderful reminder that it's not good to lose it...with these little mirrors walking around, I will surely get called on my bad behavior.
 
 
 

out of curiosity...

How many adults do you know who would wear this costume for Halloween?

This is what Sophia has decided I should wear. And as much as I like to make the girl happy, I just can't fathom the spandex on these 33-year old thighs. (Can I get an "Amen"?)

I guess she'll have to be disappointed.

But that still leaves us with no costumes...

No money fun

We are big believers in having fun at home. Partly because I'm borderline agorophobic and hate to leave the house. (Kidding. Kind of.) But mostly because we are total homebodies. Our kids, I think, are picking up on that.

But they are great at finding ways to keep themselves entertained around here.

Mostly by making large scale messes. But hey, if you're gonna do something--do it big, that's what I always say.

The other day after school it was all about building a fort. I feel bad that they come to me with those big doe-eyes, sad expressions already pasted on their faces, asking to do things like make a fort with pillows. I feel like they should be able to just do that kind of thing, but they know me and if I'd just cleaned or if we were having people over, I would probably not let them do it. I hate that about myself.

I have a friend who told me once, "If it vacuums and it makes them happy, who cares?"

I really need to adopt that kind of mentality when it comes to the kids. I don't want to be all anal about pillows, for pete's sake.

Anyway, the doe eyes and crazy quivering lips of fear did me in and I said, "Yes, of course, build a fort! Just make sure you clean it up when you're done."

It's nice now that two of them are older and I can bribe them with stickers for their sticker charts to clean up after the Monkey who is far too messy for his own good.

The fort consisted of all of our couch pillows butted up next to one of our chairs. Seriously nothing high tech...

Sophia tries so hard to get Sam to be pleasant when the camera is out, but he hates that thing.

Speaking of Sam, he is sitting on my lap and I just realized his belly is all sticky from the applesauce that didn't make it into his mouth. He looks like the dirty kid.

This fort lasted the better part of the afternoon. They were so content to play in it and make a door in it and by golly, they actually laughed and got along. It was a beautiful thing. I have to admit there's nothing that makes me crazier than when my kids are arguing.

But when they get along. Beauty.

And when they act silly. Even better.

And when they watch out for each other... well, there are just no words.

Sometimes it takes a pillow fort to bring out the very best in a kid. I think we'll be building them regularly.
 
 
 
  

Ah, yogurt

Life is always interesting with an almost-two-year old in the house. Yesterday Sam got a hold of one of Sophia's prized dry erase markers and started drawing on Ethan's carpet and quilt. That always makes a mama happy.

Today, I walked into the kitchen and found that he wasn't as disinterested in his breakfast as I'd originally thought. No, instead of tossing the O'Soy blueberry yogurt aside, Sam got creative...

My first attempts to photograph will show you his natural reaction to the camera:

"NO PICTURE!"

And yes, he asked for yogurt and then turned up his nose at it, so I got him the applesauce he then started asking for. I'm thinking this whole changing his mind on a dime thing is getting old but I'm not sure how to curb it. He does it with everything--asks for something, gets it and then changes his mind. 

Turn your attention though to what's in front of my oh-so-happy almost two year old...

Need a closer look?

He has this whole wide array of little toys he carries around and, following in his brother's footsteps, he especially loves cars and trains.

Hold on a second. He's sitting on my lap and he just drooled all over my arm.

Gross.

Ok... better. Ethan used to carry the cars and trains around too... (I have the old scrapbook pages to prove it.)

...but surprisingly, he never got quite as creative as Sam. Ethan never dunked the trains in his food.

...and then ran them across the table a few times. I have to confess that Soy yogurt makes me sick to my stomach. It smells so bad. Poor Sam, I wish he could have the real stuff, but apparently he's okay with this. It's me who had to plug my nose to clean it up.

I guess snapping pictures isn't appropriate discipline because when I returned from the sink with my wet rag in hand, he had dunked another poor vehicle into the yogurt. This time, a train. 

Oh well. At least he wasn't letting the yogurt go to waste:

 
 
 
 

Fall.

I love fall. Absolutely my favorite time of year. Even (maybe) better than Christmas, which is hard to beat when you have a mom like mine.

But fall is beautiful and crisp and incredibly unpredictable. We have no idea what the weather will be like... so when it's nice out, we try to take advantage.

About two weeks ago we had the most beautiful weather every single day. It was perfect. Cool breeze but not cold with a warm sun and the bluest sky you could imagine.

So after rehearsal, we all decided to hang out outside for a little bit.

Sophia. Involved in journaling. Too cool for play.

 

Ethan, on the other hand, wanted to do nothing else...

 

He's really into this fake smile right now. On the one hand, I think it's hilarious, but mostly I just wish he'd look a little more natural when I point and shoot. 

Then there's Sam. I could write stories and stories about life with Sam. In fact, in many ways I think it would resemble "Marley and Me" because very often it feels like raising a toddler is a little like training a dog. They eat off the floor. They play in the toilet. They chew on things they aren't supposed to. They need constant attention. I wonder if I scratched Sam's belly if his foot would start wagging back and forth. 

Anyway. Sam loves to be outside and generally OUT of the house. (This is difficult for a homebody like me...having a child who is so social. I don't understand the need to be OUT quite as well as someone who actually enjoys leaving the four walls, but I'm coping.) 

He especially loves playing with Ethan...

Here he is retrieving a ball Ethan hit into our bushes. 

 

He's got quite an arm on him, honestly. No throwing like a girl for this kid. 

So, after he played catch for awhile, he decided he'd try out one of the bikes. He screamed "MY! MY!" and pointed to every OTHER bike but his and eventually came to the conclusion that if he wanted to ride, he'd have to settle for a bike his size. 

 

I just have to say that this expression cracked me up for like 25 minutes after I uploaded the picture. This is SO Sam. Typically, he's into either seeing himself on the viewfinder of my camera or ordering me to stop taking pictures ("NO PICTURE!"--he points when he says this. He's a feisty one.) But this is a pretty common serious Sam look. 

Also common:

 

The meltdown. 

My favorite meltdowns are in the grocery store. We had our first one the other day when I wouldn't let him open the chips before we paid for them. Yes, friends. I was THAT mom. The one whose kids scream as she pushes along trying to hurriedly get everything on her list (which thankfully wasn't much in my case.) 

I could blame it on the age, but I think it's partly his personality. He's stubborn. And he wants what he wants when he wants it. Yes. We are working on this. It's been a fun ride so far. 

It's especially bad when he accidentally gets a hold of some wheat (or when Mommy decides to "test" his allergies and see if he's still got them...I hear they can outgrow them, after all.) The whole next week this kid is a terror. 

Lesson learned. 

No more wheat till we're through the tantrum stage. 

In other news... Most days I am spending with these people: 

 

The directing team for GODSPELL. Talent of talents. Wonder of wonders. These people and the kids in this show absolutely blow me away. We are having so much fun! 

If you are local, you need to see this show! If you are not, I'm sorry. You ARE missing out! :) It's funny and original and entertaining and seriously, seriously worth the time and the $8-$11! If you're interested, shoot me an email or leave me a comment. Maybe I'll give some tickets away or something. :) 

You NEED to see it! Your life will be better for it. Ok. That's taking it a little far, but it really is fun. 

Alright. Work to do. Hope your Wednesday is a good one!
 
 
  
 

Birthdays around here.

I decided before I had kids that birthdays would be a big deal. The kind of big deal that showed the kid that they were not only loved, but they were celebrated. We celebrated the day they were born.

So far, that's mostly happened. Last year on Sam's first birthday, the poor kid didn't even get a cake. We all got the flu and he'd been sick for a few months at that point, so it went by relatively unnoticed. I still feel like I need to make that up to him even though cake would've been the worst thing for him given his gluten allergy.

But at the end of the summer we celebrate Ethan's birthday. And it's hard because there's a LOT going on at the end of August. Namely, school. And this year was especially hard because HE was joining the ranks as a school attender and that left Mommy even more wiped out than usual. Both financially and physically!

But, we managed.

The week before our boy turned six we did a Monkey Joe's birthday party with some church friends. It was so fun and literally seconds after arriving, those boys were red-faced and sweating!

That's Ethan and Liam. Ethan is humoring me with his fake smile. Hate that.

Ethan and Dezmond. They were wild and crazy. 

 Ethan had a Batman cake. It was a requirement.

The party was a huge hit. Monkey Joe's is one of those places kids can go to over and over again and they don't mind the repeat.

On his real birthday, even though he was in school, we decided to keep up our normal tradition and we took him to IHOP. Believe me, I tried to talk him into a different restaurant, but I think IHOP is going to be our August 28th ritual until Ethan is out of the house!

I suppose I can't blame him. I mean, if I got to make my OWN smiley-faced pancakes, I'd probably want to do that every year on my birthday too!

It was a good day in spite of the busy season and reminded me to take time out for what's really important. Set aside your own "stuff" and celebrate that special person who deserves to be celebrated.

Can't think of a better gift.

Because everyone loves a cute kid...

Ok. I do realize I'm biased. I sort of think my kids are cute. Could be enhanced by their personalities, especially now that Sam is talking and stringing words together. For instance, at this moment, he is learning to say his name. It's about time he stopped calling himself "Baby." He is, after all, almost two.

Holy cow. Seriously? He's almost two?

Wow.

Anyway. It's really the little things he does that keep me going everyday. Like finding one of Sophia's hats and putting it on. And wearing it. All day.

 

Like how he wears that cute shirt that should be made into scrapbooking paper. And how he still takes a pacifier and calls it a "Me-More."

Yeah. I don't care that he's almost two and still takes a pacifier. Judge not lest ye... and all that stuff.

 

He's also mastered the art of the juice box which is pure joy for this mama. :) I carry them in the car now for easy entertainment and a few minutes of scream-less driving.

Gotta love it.

Sometimes I break the rules.

It's rare. I admit. I'm a rule-follower... I always have been. If someone told me something was wrong, I rarely did it. And if I did, inevitably, I would get caught.

One time in high school I had an incident with a little case of road rage where I did something, well, not so nice, let's put it that way, when a man swerved in front of me not once, not twice, but three different times, as though he was purposely hindering me from getting around him. I did something any eighteen year old know it all would do and what do you know, he recognized my car and told my dad.

That went over like a lead balloon.

Anyway. I have this strict code I live by and it extends into every area of my life. Including my diet. I rarely cheat because I know if I do I'll get "caught" the next time I get on the scale. But every now and then, like the day before school starts, you need to do something crazy. Something outlandish. Something WILD.

Like get your kids donuts.

 

Personally I wouldn't have bought an entire dozen, but Adam felt it was necessary.

The kids never get donuts. I never let them have donuts. Donuts are from the sugar devil and while I absolutely have a weakness for them, I don't want my kids growing up with that same weakness. So I do what any mom would do and restrict them from ever having them. Just kidding. I let them have them occasionally... on special days... and I think it's more of a treat that way.

Sophia could've ate the whole box, no joke.

 

And Ethan clearly has the very best taste. He picked the cherry donut which is my second favorite kind. (After doing Weight Watchers I learned that this little bugger is one of the most fattening donuts and they've lost a little bit of their appeal. But only a little bit.)

 

Now, poor Sam--thank God he's too young to know what he's missing. He had a bowl of gluten free Koala Crisps (like Cocoa Krispies only without the wheat.)

 

Adam, on the other hand, not allergic to wheat and completely addicted to sugar, indulged.

 

I think he ate like four donuts. I reserved the right to indulge as well. Only I limited myself to one. The mother of all donuts. The queen. The chocolate filled long john.

 

I think I eat one of these once every two years or so, so you better believe I enjoyed it with a nice glass of milk. :)

It's a rarity around here to get such a treat, but the kids loved it and I have to admit, it felt a little fun to break this rule.

Even though I did get a little nauseous afterwards!

He eats. By himself.

Sam really is very independent. Just ask him. He'll tell you.

MY DO IT.

MY WALK.

MY CHAIR.

Yeah. Now it's MY O-GURT.

He does not want Mommy-help to eat this stuff. And it's messy, friends. I'm anal retentive when it comes to things like yogurt crust on my kids' faces. But, like they say, you gotta let 'em grow up. Okay, that's not a "saying" but I'm sure people say it. People like grandmothers who've forgotten the fun of cleaning up yogurt from every crack in the table (and in the child.)

But he does it. And he does okay.

 

His tongue always looks like that. He inherited that from Aunt Carrie.

(She still looks like that sometimes when she concentrates really hard.)

 

My favorite is how he tips the spoon--often just before he reaches his mouth. mmmm. Soy floor.

 

Who 'dat?

Yeah. He is fascinated with the "baby" who appears regularly in the mirror and the back of my camera. So much so that he shouts "MY BABY!" until you show him the magical baby with a yogurt beard.

crazy kid.

I love him and his yogurty mess.