Sunday, June 28, 2009
A Losing Battle! AGH!
I just sat in pee for the 800th time! I have talked to the boys about this over and over and they just don’t get it. I am not giving up on this one!! I will not live a life with pee on my toilet seat and telling visitors to wipe the seat before they sit! I was thinking I should make a sign to put in a pretty frame on the back of the toilet. Maybe the visual reminder would be helpful. I need a catchy phrase though. Something like, “It you don’t lift the lid, I will flip mine!” or “Lift the seat so you don’t get beat!” (I don’t beat my boys…for the record.) Seriously, I need a statement that will stop the madness…really...HELP!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
RANDOM THOUGHT
After a conversation with my best friend, an interesting question came up...
WHY AM I STILL SAVING MY WEDDING DRESS?
(What is more interesting is that my friend has a daughter and didn't save her dress!)
WHY AM I STILL SAVING MY WEDDING DRESS?
(What is more interesting is that my friend has a daughter and didn't save her dress!)
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Photo Opps!
That's right! Take a close look at my boys and you will see why I do not pay a photographer for professional photos. This was my neice's Confirmation and everyone looked nice. The boys were dressed better than usual...and still clean. They get goofy as soon as a camera comes out. I have to beg them to act right and I figure this is why I usually have my hand close to their necks in most photos.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
McBlog
After Carson’s baseball game, visits to Home Depot, Lowes, and Menards, the boys were “starving.” (It was a very “manly” day complete with baseball, tools, lumber and food.) Of course, McDonald’s is always close by and Kyle has been planning on climbing Mount Big Mac. I talked him down to the Quarter Pounder…same disturbing amount of meat, less bread. The kid has an appetite of a 300 pound steel mill worker. Scott kept track of everything Kyle ate one day: Two bowls of cereal, cheese and crackers, two bananas, two peanut butter sandwiches, potato chips, leftover pizza and two popsicles…and that was just before 1pm. Will it be necessary for us to get second jobs to feed these boys when they become teenagers??????
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Secret
Carson came up to me at the baseball field yesterday and whispered in my ear, “I’ve got a secret way to pee.” After initial surprise wore off, curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask about this possible innovation in relieving oneself. He proceeded to explain that he didn’t need to pull his pants down anymore. He learned he needed only to unzip them and gain entry through that flap in the front of his underwear. Not only could I NOT use this information, I thought all boys knew this instinctively. After all, what purpose did they think that flap in their underwear served?????
Since it took Carson six years to gather this interesting bit of information, I figured I’d better share the “secret” with Kyle. He was not impressed and explained he would just continue using his usual method. These are definitely conversations that would NOT happen in a home with girls!
Since it took Carson six years to gather this interesting bit of information, I figured I’d better share the “secret” with Kyle. He was not impressed and explained he would just continue using his usual method. These are definitely conversations that would NOT happen in a home with girls!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Shopping with Boys
Yes, that was us at Home Depot last night. If you were there, I apologize. Anytime we take the boys shopping, chaos follows. If you have boys, you understand.
So, it starts when I announce we have to go to the store. There are two typical responses, “Awww, we just went shopping last week,” and “Do they have toys at this store?” After I explain they have not shopped with me in weeks, I can’t leave them at home alone, and there are no toys at the store we are going to, the whining starts.
In the car, on the way to the store, the boys complain about the length of the drive, the music I have on, and the fact they have to go to the store.
At the store, the boys find random ways to make it difficult for me to purchase whatever I went there to purchase. A favorite way is to chase each other around the store, running wildly through the aisles. They are now laughing and giggling (the whining has stopped so…it appears to be a good thing.) I get dirty looks from other shoppers and feel inclined to discipline the boys. The whining and pouty looks start again. Even if I am shopping for something like shoes, for example, Carson will instruct me to “Just pick something out!” while he tries to find Kyle hiding in the middle of a clothing rack.
Of course, when it is time to check out, the boys are hard to find and must be wrangled to the exit area. Once there, they discover the candy by the register. I purchase the candy and there is finally peace…on the ride home.
So, it starts when I announce we have to go to the store. There are two typical responses, “Awww, we just went shopping last week,” and “Do they have toys at this store?” After I explain they have not shopped with me in weeks, I can’t leave them at home alone, and there are no toys at the store we are going to, the whining starts.
In the car, on the way to the store, the boys complain about the length of the drive, the music I have on, and the fact they have to go to the store.
At the store, the boys find random ways to make it difficult for me to purchase whatever I went there to purchase. A favorite way is to chase each other around the store, running wildly through the aisles. They are now laughing and giggling (the whining has stopped so…it appears to be a good thing.) I get dirty looks from other shoppers and feel inclined to discipline the boys. The whining and pouty looks start again. Even if I am shopping for something like shoes, for example, Carson will instruct me to “Just pick something out!” while he tries to find Kyle hiding in the middle of a clothing rack.
Of course, when it is time to check out, the boys are hard to find and must be wrangled to the exit area. Once there, they discover the candy by the register. I purchase the candy and there is finally peace…on the ride home.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!! LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!
LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!! LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!
Yeah! We made it through kindergarten and 2nd grade with great success! The picture above shows the boys immediately after exiting the bus today. Exactly 3 minutes later Kyle announced he was bored. I guess we are in for a long summer!
Here are some of the things I want to do but I need A LOT more ideas!!!! Help me out here and add them in the comment section!!!Trip to Cinncinnati to see the Reds vs. White Sox and then on to King’s Island
Deep River Water Park
Imagination Glen Park in Portage
Baseball Camp
Aunt Carolyn’s pool!
Michigan trips to Grandma and Grandpa’s
I would also like for the boys to get to see a lot of “old school” movies like Back to the Future, Spaceballs, and Ghostbusters. I need more ideas for this too!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
10 THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY BOYS
1. They are the two cutest boys on the planet.
2. I am the first girl they will ever love (and who will love them!)
3. They have the ability to argue with, and even beat, each other but when it is over, it’s over. No grudges.
4. I never have to ask what they ate for lunch. I can see it around their lips or on their shirts.
5. Even though they are very similar, they are so different. Kyle is the brainiac, Carson is the athlete, Kyle likes to play with army men, Carson likes cars and trucks, etc.
6. When they are sweet, they are gooey! (I could gobble them up!)
7. Neither one cares what their hair looks like nor what they are wearing. If it doesn’t match…oh well. No drama!
8. They tell me I’m pretty. (They also tell me when I’m not…but that was the blog from a few weeks ago.)
9. They are independent. When they want something, they get it themselves. (Hence, all the spilled milk on the floor.)
10. They make me laugh! Every single day!!!
2. I am the first girl they will ever love (and who will love them!)
3. They have the ability to argue with, and even beat, each other but when it is over, it’s over. No grudges.
4. I never have to ask what they ate for lunch. I can see it around their lips or on their shirts.
5. Even though they are very similar, they are so different. Kyle is the brainiac, Carson is the athlete, Kyle likes to play with army men, Carson likes cars and trucks, etc.
6. When they are sweet, they are gooey! (I could gobble them up!)
7. Neither one cares what their hair looks like nor what they are wearing. If it doesn’t match…oh well. No drama!
8. They tell me I’m pretty. (They also tell me when I’m not…but that was the blog from a few weeks ago.)
9. They are independent. When they want something, they get it themselves. (Hence, all the spilled milk on the floor.)
10. They make me laugh! Every single day!!!
Everyday is an Adventure!
I have to laugh whenever I meet someone new or see an old friend and the “children” question comes up, “Do you have any kids?” I say, “Yes, two boys,” to which the questioner always has a funny reply like, “OH! Wow!” I feel quick to respond to their alarm by telling them I write a blog about raising boys. Every day is an adventure; usually an adventure that ends in a journey to the emergency room or an apology to some other boy’s mother. An adventure none-the-less! Yeah!
I have to admit that I do the same thing when I meet a mom of two or more boys. If it is four or more, I believe the appropriate response is, “Yikes!” But, I understand and appreciate their position. There is a boy I teach who has several brothers. I am not sure how many there are altogether but I know there are four boys (two are twins) from that family in middle school right now. The mom sent cookies and treats to the entire staff before Christmas. I figured it was payment for spending half a school year with her boys…even though she is doing a fantastic job raising them and they are all very polite. The one I have in class broke several fingers in the other day…during my hour! I was worried about how his parents were going to deal with the emergency room visit, cast, costs, etc. When I asked the boy about his parent’s response, he shrugged and said it was no big deal. With that many boys, his parents must be emergency room experts!!
Our emergency room visits so far:
Kyle: broken wrist, cut face, cat bite, asthma attacks (2 or 3.)
Carson: Hummmmm, can’t seem to remember any. WOW!
I just realized how many more visits Kyle has had than Carson. Kyle gets his agility ability from me and my mother-in-law...mostly my mother-in-law who is racking up her own emergency room visit list! Nice Break Jackie! J
The adventure continues…
I have to admit that I do the same thing when I meet a mom of two or more boys. If it is four or more, I believe the appropriate response is, “Yikes!” But, I understand and appreciate their position. There is a boy I teach who has several brothers. I am not sure how many there are altogether but I know there are four boys (two are twins) from that family in middle school right now. The mom sent cookies and treats to the entire staff before Christmas. I figured it was payment for spending half a school year with her boys…even though she is doing a fantastic job raising them and they are all very polite. The one I have in class broke several fingers in the other day…during my hour! I was worried about how his parents were going to deal with the emergency room visit, cast, costs, etc. When I asked the boy about his parent’s response, he shrugged and said it was no big deal. With that many boys, his parents must be emergency room experts!!
Our emergency room visits so far:
Kyle: broken wrist, cut face, cat bite, asthma attacks (2 or 3.)
Carson: Hummmmm, can’t seem to remember any. WOW!
I just realized how many more visits Kyle has had than Carson. Kyle gets his agility ability from me and my mother-in-law...mostly my mother-in-law who is racking up her own emergency room visit list! Nice Break Jackie! J
The adventure continues…
ICE CREAM MAN!!!!
Late afternoon on Mother’s Day, I heard it….the little tinkling melody, “All around the mulberry bush, blah-blah, blah-blah, blah, blah blahhhhh!” Carson heard it too and came into the sunroom screaming, “THE ICE CREAM MAN!!!!!!!” His veins were popping out of his neck, eyes bluging, arms and legs contorted, fingers and toes curled and tensed up, spit flying from his mouth! At the same moment the front door slammed and Kyle came running in, also screaming, “ICE CREAM MAN! ICE CREAM MAN!” It was the first time this year and certainly not the last. I think the ice cream man is plotting against us and I’m pretty sure he’s evil. (OH MY GOSH! As I am writing this, the ice cream man just went by!!!!!! I got his picture!) He causes great controversy in our home. The boys think they need ice cream EVERY time he comes by, even if it’s cold, we just ate, or just left Dairy Queen! He makes daily passes by our house starting in spring and keeps going until the first snow. (HE JUST WENT BY A SECOND TIME!!! DAMN that ice cream man!!!)
It’s just one of those things kids love and parents hate. It got me thinking about all the things we just don’t see eye-to-eye on like Chuck E. Cheese, staying up past bedtime, and when other kids can do something you don’t want your kid to do: like play a rated “M” game, see a PG13 movie, etc…
What else??? Do you have anything you and your kids don’t see “eye-to-eye” on?? Add it below.J
Happy Mother's Day!
I was lovingly tucking Kyle into bed last week. I was so happy I could be there do to that. I had had an extremely busy couple of weeks and my day had been hectic as well. What else is new? Kyle looked up at me and said in a shocking tone, “Mom! You look really old. You have lots of wrinkles and bags under your eyes!” The statement was given with as much surprise as it was received. Of course, as a full-time working, master’s degree seeking, mother-of-two boys, I did not have time for a complete meltdown until I woke up three days later, a Saturday morning. That was the soonest I could fit it in, complete with blubbering, unintelligible, sobbing. Scott was caught off guard and decided to take the “hands-off” approach that so many men have perfected. He told me to go shopping. I bought a really cute pair of sunglasses and a $60 face cream (at TJ Maxx for only $14.99!) which I do not think is working.
Then I began looking at recent pictures of myself. They are scarce because moms are typically the “picture-takers.” The ones I did find are revealing. It’s widely known that Math is NOT my strong suit but I have aged about 20 years since giving birth 9 years ago. A student even just told me my photo ID taken at the beginning of the year doesn’t look anything like me. This comes from yet another small-brained person with no filter and who causes me to age at double the average speed!
So I have been thinking (mostly about Botox and Collagen injections!)…I asked for the wrinkles and bags. It’s the nature of the beast (motherhood!) I asked to be the one to get up at 3 am because Kyle is having an asthma attack. I asked to be the one who worries Carson’s tummy ache could turn into Swine-Flu. I asked to be the one who teaches my children to tell the truth…which they do well. I asked to be the one to carry these boys for nine months, spending almost 48 hours in labor with Kyle, then 3 years later delivering an over 9 pound Carson (gaining over 60 pounds and stretching my stomach to places from which it will never recover without plastic surgery!)
Since plastic surgery and Botox are out of the question, I will wear my new sunglasses and accept the fact I asked to be a mother, and all that comes with the job. It’s not always easy but it is the most rewarding job there is. Kyle came home from school a couple of days ago and gave me a hand-made Mother’s Day gift from school. It was pink roses fashioned from clay and fired in a kiln. It looks like some kind of spore from the ocean but he was so excited to give it to me. I knew he was thinking of me because he knows how much I love the color pink. Just to know he thinks of me is a wonderful Mother’s Day gift. (Carson won’t let me open his gift until Mother’s Day so I will let you know what that is laterJ)
So Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who read my blog! You all look fabulous! AND, the next time you see me, in my sunglasses, just tell me I look “Marvelous!” even if it isn’t true…’cause I just can’t fit in another meltdown anytime soon!
Then I began looking at recent pictures of myself. They are scarce because moms are typically the “picture-takers.” The ones I did find are revealing. It’s widely known that Math is NOT my strong suit but I have aged about 20 years since giving birth 9 years ago. A student even just told me my photo ID taken at the beginning of the year doesn’t look anything like me. This comes from yet another small-brained person with no filter and who causes me to age at double the average speed!
So I have been thinking (mostly about Botox and Collagen injections!)…I asked for the wrinkles and bags. It’s the nature of the beast (motherhood!) I asked to be the one to get up at 3 am because Kyle is having an asthma attack. I asked to be the one who worries Carson’s tummy ache could turn into Swine-Flu. I asked to be the one who teaches my children to tell the truth…which they do well. I asked to be the one to carry these boys for nine months, spending almost 48 hours in labor with Kyle, then 3 years later delivering an over 9 pound Carson (gaining over 60 pounds and stretching my stomach to places from which it will never recover without plastic surgery!)
Since plastic surgery and Botox are out of the question, I will wear my new sunglasses and accept the fact I asked to be a mother, and all that comes with the job. It’s not always easy but it is the most rewarding job there is. Kyle came home from school a couple of days ago and gave me a hand-made Mother’s Day gift from school. It was pink roses fashioned from clay and fired in a kiln. It looks like some kind of spore from the ocean but he was so excited to give it to me. I knew he was thinking of me because he knows how much I love the color pink. Just to know he thinks of me is a wonderful Mother’s Day gift. (Carson won’t let me open his gift until Mother’s Day so I will let you know what that is laterJ)
So Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who read my blog! You all look fabulous! AND, the next time you see me, in my sunglasses, just tell me I look “Marvelous!” even if it isn’t true…’cause I just can’t fit in another meltdown anytime soon!
Wishing on Stars
Kyle was bored and asked me what he should play. I told him to write a list of possible careers. Then he could pick something from the list to pretend. This was his list (spelling cleaned up, of course!)
Astronaut
Scientist
Mad Scientist
Secret Agent (Spy)
Archaeologist
Baseball Player
Football player
Evil Football player
Army guy
Ghost killer
Gangster
US President
Farmer
Ninja
Doctor
Racer
Rock star
Actor
Super Hero
Pirate
Cartographer
I just can’t decide what would make me more proud, evil football player or mad scientist. What’s up with the “evil” and “mad” careers anyway? Who thinks of that kind of stuff? I don’t ever remember thinking I wanted to be an “evil teacher.“ (Although my students may argue with that!) How about those “gangster” and “pirate” options? Gee, they are equally lofty ambitions. I also find the order of my son’s possible trades interesting. What made him take the mental leap from gangster to U.S. President to farmer? On the flip side, what would a girl’s list look like? Ballerina, princess, actress, singer, “evil” ballerina?
I’m guessing most mothers look at their children’s lists, their talents, their interests and begin to think of their kids as adults. Sure, we weed out the pirate, ninja, and superhero and pick the more reasonable careers like archaeologist, scientist, and doctor, but what will they become? What can we do to help them achieve their dreams? There is a definite sense of ownership. Being a parent is a stressful job! We feel we have self-esteem to build, skills to develop, and motivation to manufacture. We also have to foster a sense of limitless opportunities. Baseball player, doctor, and astronaut may be far-fetched but anything is possible! Reality dictates, though, that parents are just the compass. All we really do is point our children in the right directions. We take them to baseball practice, art classes, and guitar lessons, looking for those interests. The rest is up to the kids. Knowing that, every wish I make on a birthday candle and shooting star is for my boys…just to grow up to be happy and healthy in whatever they choose to do!
Astronaut
Scientist
Mad Scientist
Secret Agent (Spy)
Archaeologist
Baseball Player
Football player
Evil Football player
Army guy
Ghost killer
Gangster
US President
Farmer
Ninja
Doctor
Racer
Rock star
Actor
Super Hero
Pirate
Cartographer
I just can’t decide what would make me more proud, evil football player or mad scientist. What’s up with the “evil” and “mad” careers anyway? Who thinks of that kind of stuff? I don’t ever remember thinking I wanted to be an “evil teacher.“ (Although my students may argue with that!) How about those “gangster” and “pirate” options? Gee, they are equally lofty ambitions. I also find the order of my son’s possible trades interesting. What made him take the mental leap from gangster to U.S. President to farmer? On the flip side, what would a girl’s list look like? Ballerina, princess, actress, singer, “evil” ballerina?
I’m guessing most mothers look at their children’s lists, their talents, their interests and begin to think of their kids as adults. Sure, we weed out the pirate, ninja, and superhero and pick the more reasonable careers like archaeologist, scientist, and doctor, but what will they become? What can we do to help them achieve their dreams? There is a definite sense of ownership. Being a parent is a stressful job! We feel we have self-esteem to build, skills to develop, and motivation to manufacture. We also have to foster a sense of limitless opportunities. Baseball player, doctor, and astronaut may be far-fetched but anything is possible! Reality dictates, though, that parents are just the compass. All we really do is point our children in the right directions. We take them to baseball practice, art classes, and guitar lessons, looking for those interests. The rest is up to the kids. Knowing that, every wish I make on a birthday candle and shooting star is for my boys…just to grow up to be happy and healthy in whatever they choose to do!
The "Misfits"
“What’s going on with that outfit?” I asked. “What do you mean?” responded Carson. Carson and I have had many a discussion about his clothes. I have even cleaned out his drawers and made “outfits” for him. They have all turned into “misfits.”
Both the boys have been educated about matching their clothes and making sure they do not have more than three colors on at one time. (I wanted to go with just two colors at a time but was afraid that could be asking too much.) Carson, unfortunately, is not willing to stick to any rules. In his book, any and all colors can be worn together, preferably at the same time. One day he walked out of the house with workout pants that were gray with a teal blue stripe down the side. He then thoughtfully layered a long sleeve orange, white and gray hooded shirt under a brown/black/red t-shirt with a skull on it. I pointed out all the different colors to him. “Look, you have on gray, blue, orange, white, brown, black, and red.” He was unresponsive. I wanted to argue with him but remembered being told to “choose your battles.” So instead, I wrote his teacher a little email. “Please do not be alarmed when Carson arrives at school today. He has decided he doesn’t want to match his clothes anymore.” His teacher wrote back that she had to laugh because it seemed to be a fashion trend in kindergarten.
Kyle, on the other hand, at least tries. If he is wearing blue, all shades of blue constitute one color. So, he may be wearing a pale blue short-sleeve t-shirt with navy blue long-sleeve shirt underneath and royal blue pants (with a black and white stripe). At least Kyle is trying to stay within the same color family. Gotta give him some credit!
It is highly likely they will both put more time and effort into their clothes when some girl at school points out their serious lack of fashion sense. Although, that will also be the time they want me to start buying them ripped and faded Abercrombie jeans for $85 and an extremely thin Aeropostale t-shirt for $40....Maybe the fashion misfits aren't such a bad thing!
Both the boys have been educated about matching their clothes and making sure they do not have more than three colors on at one time. (I wanted to go with just two colors at a time but was afraid that could be asking too much.) Carson, unfortunately, is not willing to stick to any rules. In his book, any and all colors can be worn together, preferably at the same time. One day he walked out of the house with workout pants that were gray with a teal blue stripe down the side. He then thoughtfully layered a long sleeve orange, white and gray hooded shirt under a brown/black/red t-shirt with a skull on it. I pointed out all the different colors to him. “Look, you have on gray, blue, orange, white, brown, black, and red.” He was unresponsive. I wanted to argue with him but remembered being told to “choose your battles.” So instead, I wrote his teacher a little email. “Please do not be alarmed when Carson arrives at school today. He has decided he doesn’t want to match his clothes anymore.” His teacher wrote back that she had to laugh because it seemed to be a fashion trend in kindergarten.
Kyle, on the other hand, at least tries. If he is wearing blue, all shades of blue constitute one color. So, he may be wearing a pale blue short-sleeve t-shirt with navy blue long-sleeve shirt underneath and royal blue pants (with a black and white stripe). At least Kyle is trying to stay within the same color family. Gotta give him some credit!
It is highly likely they will both put more time and effort into their clothes when some girl at school points out their serious lack of fashion sense. Although, that will also be the time they want me to start buying them ripped and faded Abercrombie jeans for $85 and an extremely thin Aeropostale t-shirt for $40....Maybe the fashion misfits aren't such a bad thing!
Attack of the 6-Year-Old Ninjas!!
It’s been a couple weeks since I’ve blogged. Life has taken a sudden turn towards insanity. Spring is always a busy time, especially with boys; mostly because baseball starts but we also celebrate two birthdays in March and May. Throw Easter in the mix, some papers to be written, exams, etc. and you have serious chaos.
Despite this being the busy time of year, I decided to throw my youngest a party last Friday. Chuckie Cheese and those “jump” places get very pricey so we decided to save a little money and throw a sleepover instead.
Insanity at it’s finest! I really didn’t think it would be a big deal. We threw my eight year old a slumber party last year. Only four boys showed up and they were really good. Nice boys. Played some football in the yard, ate pizza, played video games, slept. Fun!
However, it was a much different ballgame when it came to the six year olds. Plus all of the boys we invited showed up. Noise levels rising as they trickled in. I should have known it would be trouble when some of the parents I didn’t even know shoved their boys over the threshold of my door…and ran. Unbeknownst to me, Pandemonium and Anarchy were the party themes. I planned every detail down to the last minute but lost control in the first hour. (I’m a teacher. How could this happen?) Light sabers and Nerf Guns were the weaponry of choice for “Attack of the Six Year Old Ninjas” which played for hours in my basement. Some Ninjas even brought their own light sabers. You can never be certain when a battle may flare up. I feared for the big screen television and our two little kitties. I feared for myself. A beer was my only line of defense (for me…not the kids.)
When it came time to eat, I was actually relieved to see that my own boys are not the only ones who eat with no regard to food on the face or clothing. Most boys eat like cavemen and I think pizza sauce on their shirt and face is a mark of status. This must be so because when told they have food on their face, a boy will make little to no effort to remove it. Even other boys will not mention an obvious disregard for cleanliness.
At one point in the night, we received a phone call and only knew the last name of the caller. When I quizzed the boys about their last names, I got one boy who had no idea what his last name was. I pray he never gets lost! Another boy called my husband “Dude.” I wonder what he calls his teacher! It was funny until my husband, Scott, started calling him “Dude” too. The boy looked at Scott as if he had been severely disrespected and announced, “My name is Joey!”
Since the boys were young, I set them up with their sleeping bags and pillows at 11:00 and the final partier passed out at 1:00am. I was jolted awake around 6:30 am by the sounds of wildebeests migrating through the African Plains. (No wait! That was my dream!) I was imagining small boys running, jumping over the furniture, jumping over each other, to make their way to the donuts in the basement, Light Sabers and Nerf Guns in hand.
Luckily, for me, I had class and had to leave at around 8:30. I called Scott to make sure all the boys were picked up. I was uncertain if they would all be claimed at the end of the party! But, he had no time to rest. Our families were coming over to celebrate at 3:00. Toilets needed to be cleaned!
Despite this being the busy time of year, I decided to throw my youngest a party last Friday. Chuckie Cheese and those “jump” places get very pricey so we decided to save a little money and throw a sleepover instead.
Insanity at it’s finest! I really didn’t think it would be a big deal. We threw my eight year old a slumber party last year. Only four boys showed up and they were really good. Nice boys. Played some football in the yard, ate pizza, played video games, slept. Fun!
However, it was a much different ballgame when it came to the six year olds. Plus all of the boys we invited showed up. Noise levels rising as they trickled in. I should have known it would be trouble when some of the parents I didn’t even know shoved their boys over the threshold of my door…and ran. Unbeknownst to me, Pandemonium and Anarchy were the party themes. I planned every detail down to the last minute but lost control in the first hour. (I’m a teacher. How could this happen?) Light sabers and Nerf Guns were the weaponry of choice for “Attack of the Six Year Old Ninjas” which played for hours in my basement. Some Ninjas even brought their own light sabers. You can never be certain when a battle may flare up. I feared for the big screen television and our two little kitties. I feared for myself. A beer was my only line of defense (for me…not the kids.)
When it came time to eat, I was actually relieved to see that my own boys are not the only ones who eat with no regard to food on the face or clothing. Most boys eat like cavemen and I think pizza sauce on their shirt and face is a mark of status. This must be so because when told they have food on their face, a boy will make little to no effort to remove it. Even other boys will not mention an obvious disregard for cleanliness.
At one point in the night, we received a phone call and only knew the last name of the caller. When I quizzed the boys about their last names, I got one boy who had no idea what his last name was. I pray he never gets lost! Another boy called my husband “Dude.” I wonder what he calls his teacher! It was funny until my husband, Scott, started calling him “Dude” too. The boy looked at Scott as if he had been severely disrespected and announced, “My name is Joey!”
Since the boys were young, I set them up with their sleeping bags and pillows at 11:00 and the final partier passed out at 1:00am. I was jolted awake around 6:30 am by the sounds of wildebeests migrating through the African Plains. (No wait! That was my dream!) I was imagining small boys running, jumping over the furniture, jumping over each other, to make their way to the donuts in the basement, Light Sabers and Nerf Guns in hand.
Luckily, for me, I had class and had to leave at around 8:30. I called Scott to make sure all the boys were picked up. I was uncertain if they would all be claimed at the end of the party! But, he had no time to rest. Our families were coming over to celebrate at 3:00. Toilets needed to be cleaned!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
One Question at a Time, Please!
The following is not a dramatization. It is an actual conversation that took place last week. However, conversations such as this take place on a very regular basis in our home, the car, restaurants…
Kyle: How many languages are there in the world?
Me: I don’t know. Let me look it up on my phone.
Kyle: Can we go to the Congo this summer?
Me: Sure.
Kyle: What do you think it is like in Chad? I bet it’s hot.
Me: I bet you’re right. It might be like a desert.
Kyle: Are there rainforests in Hawaii?
Me: I don’t know. But I’m still trying to find out how many languages there are. Wait.
Kyle: Have you ever been to the Congo?
Me: Nope.
Kyle: Do you want to go?
Me: Sure. I bet there are big snakes there though. So…I dunno. Maybe not.
Me: There are about 6,800 Languages in the world.
Kyle: About? What do you mean? They don’t know for sure?
Me: No. I guess not. That’s a lot of languages to keep track of!
Kyle: Did you say there were rainforests in Hawaii?
Me: Oh I forgot…Let me look it up on my phone too. I think there are. What made you think of the rainforests?
Kyle: A book about a big tree and a bunch of animals….
Me: The Great Kapok Tree?
Kyle: Yea
Me: Who read that to you?
Kyle: You did!
Me: Kyle, I read that to you like four or five years ago. You still remember that?
Kyle: Yea. How big is the Lake Fairgrounds?
Me: Wait, one question at a time. I’m still looking up the rainforests in Hawaii. I can’t keep track.
Kyle: (Kyle in another room, asking Dad now…) “Dad, are there rainforests in Hawaii?”
Dad: I don’t think so, Buddy.
Me: YES! There are rainforests in Hawaii. I just found it!
Kyle: I wonder where the biggest lake in the world is? How big is the Lake Fairgrounds again?
Me: Huh? Lake Fairgrounds? Do you mean the lake at the fairgrounds?
Kyle: Yea.
Me: (Sigh) I’ll look it up in a minute. Let me finish curling my hair!
Our previous babysitter, Judy, has informed us that she has never met a boy like Kyle before, and she has babysat a lot of kids. She also said she was thankful for the internet because she couldn’t keep up with all the questions or didn’t have all the answers. (I, too, am thankful for the internet and my phone!) Once, when Kyle was only three, he asked me if Adam and Eve had belly buttons. Whoa! Another time, also when he was three, we were moving. We were not sure if we should also move a wooden playset that took a lot of energy to construct. We asked Kyle if we should leave the playset for his friend, Joshua, who lived behind us. Kyle then wondered if that was going to be the case, were we also leaving Daddy’s tractor for Joshua’s daddy. Point taken…We took the playset.
Oh! The conversation about lakes was continued in the car where we discovered the Caspian Sea is actually the largest lake in the world. Lake Superior is second and Lake Michigan is fifth. The deepest lake is in Russia (Lake Baikal) and it is over 5700 feet deep! WOW! We also pondered some existential thoughts such as the Big Bang and whether or not it is possible for people who believe in the Big Bang to also believe in God. Now THAT’S deep!
Kyle: How many languages are there in the world?
Me: I don’t know. Let me look it up on my phone.
Kyle: Can we go to the Congo this summer?
Me: Sure.
Kyle: What do you think it is like in Chad? I bet it’s hot.
Me: I bet you’re right. It might be like a desert.
Kyle: Are there rainforests in Hawaii?
Me: I don’t know. But I’m still trying to find out how many languages there are. Wait.
Kyle: Have you ever been to the Congo?
Me: Nope.
Kyle: Do you want to go?
Me: Sure. I bet there are big snakes there though. So…I dunno. Maybe not.
Me: There are about 6,800 Languages in the world.
Kyle: About? What do you mean? They don’t know for sure?
Me: No. I guess not. That’s a lot of languages to keep track of!
Kyle: Did you say there were rainforests in Hawaii?
Me: Oh I forgot…Let me look it up on my phone too. I think there are. What made you think of the rainforests?
Kyle: A book about a big tree and a bunch of animals….
Me: The Great Kapok Tree?
Kyle: Yea
Me: Who read that to you?
Kyle: You did!
Me: Kyle, I read that to you like four or five years ago. You still remember that?
Kyle: Yea. How big is the Lake Fairgrounds?
Me: Wait, one question at a time. I’m still looking up the rainforests in Hawaii. I can’t keep track.
Kyle: (Kyle in another room, asking Dad now…) “Dad, are there rainforests in Hawaii?”
Dad: I don’t think so, Buddy.
Me: YES! There are rainforests in Hawaii. I just found it!
Kyle: I wonder where the biggest lake in the world is? How big is the Lake Fairgrounds again?
Me: Huh? Lake Fairgrounds? Do you mean the lake at the fairgrounds?
Kyle: Yea.
Me: (Sigh) I’ll look it up in a minute. Let me finish curling my hair!
Our previous babysitter, Judy, has informed us that she has never met a boy like Kyle before, and she has babysat a lot of kids. She also said she was thankful for the internet because she couldn’t keep up with all the questions or didn’t have all the answers. (I, too, am thankful for the internet and my phone!) Once, when Kyle was only three, he asked me if Adam and Eve had belly buttons. Whoa! Another time, also when he was three, we were moving. We were not sure if we should also move a wooden playset that took a lot of energy to construct. We asked Kyle if we should leave the playset for his friend, Joshua, who lived behind us. Kyle then wondered if that was going to be the case, were we also leaving Daddy’s tractor for Joshua’s daddy. Point taken…We took the playset.
Oh! The conversation about lakes was continued in the car where we discovered the Caspian Sea is actually the largest lake in the world. Lake Superior is second and Lake Michigan is fifth. The deepest lake is in Russia (Lake Baikal) and it is over 5700 feet deep! WOW! We also pondered some existential thoughts such as the Big Bang and whether or not it is possible for people who believe in the Big Bang to also believe in God. Now THAT’S deep!
Competitive Spirit
I sat on the bleachers with my father-in-law, Herb, and my youngest son Carson. All of us were watching Kyle, my oldest, play baseball for his third year in a row. Kyle struck out almost every time at bat and couldn’t focus long enough to catch any of the other team’s hits. From what I understand, my husband was a natural athlete but I just wasn’t sure if he had developed his talents at the tender age of 7. I leaned over to my father-in-law and asked him quietly if Kyle was performing at the same level as my husband, Scott, when he was 7. Now let me tell you, I have never heard Herb say a bad thing about anyone and he is one of the kindest people I know. He winced at my question and searched for delicate words, “Wellllllll, ahhh I don’t think so…not yet. But, he’s young.” He was trying to be sweet about it. I laughed but it was a wakeup call for me. The fact that my husband and most of his family are athletic led me to believe my boys would be too. They are boys, for crying out loud! Don’t they just come out knowing how to catch a ball? I guess I forgot they may inherit some of my traits too. I can’t walk down the stairs without tripping, I run like a girl, and when I try to throw a ball really hard, it hits the ground right in front of me. BUT, I love to learn about science, philosophy, and history. I love to read and I love to write.
Will it be okay it my son is not an athlete? What if he is not aggressive enough for sports? Will I be disappointed? Absolutely not! I like to joke that my oldest boy is my future spellbowl champ! There is still hope though for that competitive and aggressive spirit though… All four of us were at a birthday party and my boys had gone outside to play football with a group of other boys and my husband’s buddy. An hour later, all the kids stormed in to watch tv and play indoors. The buddy proceeded to tell us how our oldest got into a fist fight with another boy. We were shocked! Kyle hadn’t said a word to us….AND he had a gotten a bloody lip! We were told the other boy kept tackling Kyle even though the ball wasn’t even in play. Kyle finally got fed up and got down into a wrestling position. He then took the other boy down and arms were a swingin’! It was his first fist fight! I was initially appalled that my kid would get physical with another kid but the shock oddly faded into pride. While we do NOT condone physically working through a disagreement with another, I have to say I was proud he stood up for himself!
Do you have a proud moment you want to share? Add it below! :)
Will it be okay it my son is not an athlete? What if he is not aggressive enough for sports? Will I be disappointed? Absolutely not! I like to joke that my oldest boy is my future spellbowl champ! There is still hope though for that competitive and aggressive spirit though… All four of us were at a birthday party and my boys had gone outside to play football with a group of other boys and my husband’s buddy. An hour later, all the kids stormed in to watch tv and play indoors. The buddy proceeded to tell us how our oldest got into a fist fight with another boy. We were shocked! Kyle hadn’t said a word to us….AND he had a gotten a bloody lip! We were told the other boy kept tackling Kyle even though the ball wasn’t even in play. Kyle finally got fed up and got down into a wrestling position. He then took the other boy down and arms were a swingin’! It was his first fist fight! I was initially appalled that my kid would get physical with another kid but the shock oddly faded into pride. While we do NOT condone physically working through a disagreement with another, I have to say I was proud he stood up for himself!
Do you have a proud moment you want to share? Add it below! :)
20 Tips to Survive as the Mother of Boys
Rethink your definition of “clean.”
Rethink your definition of “loud.”
Buy pants with that extra fabric patch at the knee.
Buy socks that are gray on the bottom.
There is a reason most boy’s clothes are dark blue.
Stock up on bandages, antibiotic cream, and hydrocortisone cream.
You cannot just let one boy have a friend over. Each boy in the family has to have their own friend over to play with. (Arguments ensue over who is going to play with the visiting boy.)
Stay away from having small pets. They will be terrorized.
That “wet dog” smell…it’s your boy.
Clorox wipes make pee clean-up a snap. (I should get paid for this one!)
I believe Poptarts have more sugar in them than any other food known to man. Purchase them at your own risk.
Don’t be alarmed when your boy can’t keep his hands off himself. It’s normal and they all do it. (Even the older ones.)
Become familiar with the terms, “Poop, pee, farts, and burps.” Anything of a disgusting nature will be discussed and laughed about at the kitchen table. Also, an 8 year old boy cannot say these words without being completely annoying.
If you want to gain control of the tv remote, ask your boys who is ready to dust and vacuum the room where the tv is located.
When you bring new cereal boxes home from the store, open them immediately. If you wait for one of your boys to do it, they will look like a wild bear tore them open.
If your boy says he isn’t hungry when he is faced with a hot dog, fries, and orange pop…he’s sick. Don’t make him take ANY bites unless you want to clean them up a few hours later. (Don’t ask how I know this.)
Boys like to beat the crap out of their brother but no one else is allowed.
Spongebob is like coffee. You hate it the first few times you try it but it grows on you. Then you get addicted. Really…Spongebob is funny.
Boys need to be reminded that they have to go to the pee. They forget on the way to the bathroom.
Boys grow overnight. You will look over your shoulder one day and wonder who the heck is standing there.
Rethink your definition of “loud.”
Buy pants with that extra fabric patch at the knee.
Buy socks that are gray on the bottom.
There is a reason most boy’s clothes are dark blue.
Stock up on bandages, antibiotic cream, and hydrocortisone cream.
You cannot just let one boy have a friend over. Each boy in the family has to have their own friend over to play with. (Arguments ensue over who is going to play with the visiting boy.)
Stay away from having small pets. They will be terrorized.
That “wet dog” smell…it’s your boy.
Clorox wipes make pee clean-up a snap. (I should get paid for this one!)
I believe Poptarts have more sugar in them than any other food known to man. Purchase them at your own risk.
Don’t be alarmed when your boy can’t keep his hands off himself. It’s normal and they all do it. (Even the older ones.)
Become familiar with the terms, “Poop, pee, farts, and burps.” Anything of a disgusting nature will be discussed and laughed about at the kitchen table. Also, an 8 year old boy cannot say these words without being completely annoying.
If you want to gain control of the tv remote, ask your boys who is ready to dust and vacuum the room where the tv is located.
When you bring new cereal boxes home from the store, open them immediately. If you wait for one of your boys to do it, they will look like a wild bear tore them open.
If your boy says he isn’t hungry when he is faced with a hot dog, fries, and orange pop…he’s sick. Don’t make him take ANY bites unless you want to clean them up a few hours later. (Don’t ask how I know this.)
Boys like to beat the crap out of their brother but no one else is allowed.
Spongebob is like coffee. You hate it the first few times you try it but it grows on you. Then you get addicted. Really…Spongebob is funny.
Boys need to be reminded that they have to go to the pee. They forget on the way to the bathroom.
Boys grow overnight. You will look over your shoulder one day and wonder who the heck is standing there.
Geronimo!
I recently got new furniture. Whoohoo! We actually wore out the other sofa. The fabric disintegrated. It was about 8 years old but I have to wonder if it would have lasted longer if I had girls.
One day I came home and I could see my husband in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. As I turned my head into the living room, I was startled. Both of my boys had stripped down to their underwear, collected ALL of the sofa cushions, cushion backs, and pillows, and piled them on the floor. They proceeded to jump off the coffee table, onto the cushions, yelling, “Geronimooooo!” My youngest, Carson, then asked me if I would like to join them. I asked him if I had to take my clothes off too. Since it seemed to be a requirement, I declined.
My oldest boy, Kyle, cannot just sit anywhere. He reminds me of a cat or a monkey. He sits, or rather, lays, on the back of the sofa. He also lays upside-down, feet up and over the back of the sofa and head off the seat cushion. (Some blood loss to the brain, for fun.) Both of my boys tend to run and then launch themselves off the ground and onto the seat, almost bouncing themselves back to a standing position. It’s a wonder my furniture lasted this long!
We opted for a leather sofa this time and in only three short months have had to have the furniture company replace the cushions. They were going flat already. That was from my oldest BOY, my hubby. He tends to make a nest from where he can watch sports, snooze, and read the paper with the least amount of effort.
Oh, almost forgot…I got myself a pretty La-Z Boy chair and as I settled in for the first time and reclined, I thought, “Wow, all new furniture. It feels so nice.” Looking at the room from that new prospective, I was able to see that one of the lamps is cracked in half. Nice. Someone had apparently knocked it off the table, broke it, and set the broken part in the back where they thought no one would notice. (And these are less than a year old because someone broke my last set of lamps!) Oh, the joy of boys!
One day I came home and I could see my husband in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. As I turned my head into the living room, I was startled. Both of my boys had stripped down to their underwear, collected ALL of the sofa cushions, cushion backs, and pillows, and piled them on the floor. They proceeded to jump off the coffee table, onto the cushions, yelling, “Geronimooooo!” My youngest, Carson, then asked me if I would like to join them. I asked him if I had to take my clothes off too. Since it seemed to be a requirement, I declined.
My oldest boy, Kyle, cannot just sit anywhere. He reminds me of a cat or a monkey. He sits, or rather, lays, on the back of the sofa. He also lays upside-down, feet up and over the back of the sofa and head off the seat cushion. (Some blood loss to the brain, for fun.) Both of my boys tend to run and then launch themselves off the ground and onto the seat, almost bouncing themselves back to a standing position. It’s a wonder my furniture lasted this long!
We opted for a leather sofa this time and in only three short months have had to have the furniture company replace the cushions. They were going flat already. That was from my oldest BOY, my hubby. He tends to make a nest from where he can watch sports, snooze, and read the paper with the least amount of effort.
Oh, almost forgot…I got myself a pretty La-Z Boy chair and as I settled in for the first time and reclined, I thought, “Wow, all new furniture. It feels so nice.” Looking at the room from that new prospective, I was able to see that one of the lamps is cracked in half. Nice. Someone had apparently knocked it off the table, broke it, and set the broken part in the back where they thought no one would notice. (And these are less than a year old because someone broke my last set of lamps!) Oh, the joy of boys!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Thank Heaven for Little Boys...and Joys!!!
I know I have written a lot about how my boys do alarming things; They have hung from the curtains (Seriously!! Ripped the rod right out of the wall too), run around the house like wild banshees, left boogers in unexpected places, and dumped all the fish food into the tank…at one time. I hope I don’t sound like I’m always complaining. I’m not. Every moment is a joy. I have to laugh when I find a booger. Maybe someone left it in a high-traffic location because it was a really big one and worthy of observation. Plus, if I don’t laugh, I might just cry because it’s such bizarre behavior.
Believe me, though, there are moments where the joy does not have to be searched for. It is at the surface for all the world to see. I guess I often think, “boys will be boys” and expect them to act a certain way. Just then those sweet, tender moments catch me off guard. One day, for example, Carson took my hand as we walked across the street in the morning. He waved his little mitten around and said, “Mom, you’re the most beautifulist girl in the whole wide world.” Carson throws things like that out randomly and it makes my knees weak. Sometimes, he will blow me a kiss from the window of neighbor’s house when I leave for work. Ohhhh, those big brown eyes pierce straight into the soul! (I can hear those middle school girls calling already!)
Kyle is the big brother and tries to be tough like Dad, but now and then he throws me for a loop. One night, Carson was scared. I overheard Kyle telling him, “It’s okay Carson, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Do you want me to sleep with you?” How sweet is that?!! Two Christmases ago, I was sick and missed everything because I had to stay in the hospital. My in-laws took the boys to church and then brought them to the hospital to see me. Kyle wouldn’t look at me. I thought maybe he was afraid of all the tubes and wires. When I asked him to give me a hug, he turned and I saw his face. His mouth was turned down, lip quivering, eyes big with tears, and he buried his head in my arms. He was not afraid of the tubes and wires. He was afraid of losing me! We tell each other that we love each other several times a day, but that moment made me realize how important I am to him. He even mentioned it this Christmas when he said all he really wanted was for me to be home. Sweetness! (Of course, if I was going to be home, Guitar Hero was his second option.)
Oh, there are small joys too, like when I hear good reports from the boy’s teachers, when they play nicely together, when they hit the baseball and make it to first base, or when someone tells me I make the best microwave chicken nuggets in the world and I should sell my BLT sandwiches on EBAY!
Believe me, though, there are moments where the joy does not have to be searched for. It is at the surface for all the world to see. I guess I often think, “boys will be boys” and expect them to act a certain way. Just then those sweet, tender moments catch me off guard. One day, for example, Carson took my hand as we walked across the street in the morning. He waved his little mitten around and said, “Mom, you’re the most beautifulist girl in the whole wide world.” Carson throws things like that out randomly and it makes my knees weak. Sometimes, he will blow me a kiss from the window of neighbor’s house when I leave for work. Ohhhh, those big brown eyes pierce straight into the soul! (I can hear those middle school girls calling already!)
Kyle is the big brother and tries to be tough like Dad, but now and then he throws me for a loop. One night, Carson was scared. I overheard Kyle telling him, “It’s okay Carson, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Do you want me to sleep with you?” How sweet is that?!! Two Christmases ago, I was sick and missed everything because I had to stay in the hospital. My in-laws took the boys to church and then brought them to the hospital to see me. Kyle wouldn’t look at me. I thought maybe he was afraid of all the tubes and wires. When I asked him to give me a hug, he turned and I saw his face. His mouth was turned down, lip quivering, eyes big with tears, and he buried his head in my arms. He was not afraid of the tubes and wires. He was afraid of losing me! We tell each other that we love each other several times a day, but that moment made me realize how important I am to him. He even mentioned it this Christmas when he said all he really wanted was for me to be home. Sweetness! (Of course, if I was going to be home, Guitar Hero was his second option.)
Oh, there are small joys too, like when I hear good reports from the boy’s teachers, when they play nicely together, when they hit the baseball and make it to first base, or when someone tells me I make the best microwave chicken nuggets in the world and I should sell my BLT sandwiches on EBAY!
Ummm, your pants are on backwards...and inside out!
“You have to turn the handle before you can open the door.” As the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were strange. What a weird thing to say. Why would I ever have to say that to someone? Isn’t that common sense? (Of course, I did have to say it after my 5 year old ran straight into the door.) I found myself thinking about of a lot of things that I have had to say that I never thought I would…
“You can’t show people your underwear. I don’t care if they are Transformers or Spongebob. It’s just not a good idea.”
“Don’t put that around your neck.”
“What made you think your head would fit in there?”
“Can everyone please stop peeing on the floor!!!”
“I don’t know what happened to Atlantis. No one knows what happened to it. No, we are never traveling to the Bermuda Triangle anytime soon. You have nothing to worry about. I am not sure if Adam and Eve lived at the same time as the dinosaurs…we’ll look it all up in the morning.” (Sure, I thought I would answer questions for my children…I just didn’t think I would be answering them all at 2 in the morning.)
“Who put a thumbtack in my exercise ball???” (Okay, okay, I wasn’t really using it anyway.)
“Don’t drink your bath water!!! Your butt and Kyle’s butt are both in there! Do you really want to drink butt water?”
“How did you get that so far up your nose?” (It was the smallest, single peg square Lego, in case you were wondering.)
“If you are going to throw up, try to make it to the bathroom.” (I say the same thing to the cats with the same result!)
“You have to dry off before you put your clothes on.”
“Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on…. Put your shoes and coat on…..” (I know this is not a strange thing to say. I am just amazed that I have to say it so many times.)
“Umm, your pants are on backwards…and inside out.”
Does anyone have anything to add????? Please add them below. J
“You can’t show people your underwear. I don’t care if they are Transformers or Spongebob. It’s just not a good idea.”
“Don’t put that around your neck.”
“What made you think your head would fit in there?”
“Can everyone please stop peeing on the floor!!!”
“I don’t know what happened to Atlantis. No one knows what happened to it. No, we are never traveling to the Bermuda Triangle anytime soon. You have nothing to worry about. I am not sure if Adam and Eve lived at the same time as the dinosaurs…we’ll look it all up in the morning.” (Sure, I thought I would answer questions for my children…I just didn’t think I would be answering them all at 2 in the morning.)
“Who put a thumbtack in my exercise ball???” (Okay, okay, I wasn’t really using it anyway.)
“Don’t drink your bath water!!! Your butt and Kyle’s butt are both in there! Do you really want to drink butt water?”
“How did you get that so far up your nose?” (It was the smallest, single peg square Lego, in case you were wondering.)
“If you are going to throw up, try to make it to the bathroom.” (I say the same thing to the cats with the same result!)
“You have to dry off before you put your clothes on.”
“Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on….. Put your shoes and coat on…. Put your shoes and coat on…..” (I know this is not a strange thing to say. I am just amazed that I have to say it so many times.)
“Umm, your pants are on backwards…and inside out.”
Does anyone have anything to add????? Please add them below. J
What to expect when you are expecting...a boy!!
Some friends of ours just found out they are having a boy. They are busy painting the walls, buying a layette, and preparing themselves for their new arrival. It’s cute really. At this point, everything is perfectly placed and beautiful. If they were having a girl, I think things would stay that way but boys are quite different. Sure, everything stays pretty for a few months but once that kid gets control of his feet, look out!! I’ve compiled a list of things they will need in the upcoming years. I’ve learned them all from experience.
Wall putty – I know this is obvious but it’s true. You need wall spackle, a putty knife, and sand paper. This will come in handy when your boy knocks a chair clean through the wall, throws a car at the ceiling, etc. The good thing about this is that you can have a career in wall repair when your son is grown up. (If it’s a big hole….email me. I know some tricks that my dad taught me.)
Matchbox car – Watch this thing like a hawk. Cars are like cockroaches …they will multiply. It will have babies of its own and they will come in all shapes and sizes. They will also hide in the deepest, darkest places it can find, sofa cushions, under pillows; I have even found one in the fridge. Watch it! This also applies for army guys, dinosaurs, Legos, and sports cards. (I recently found several army guys in our kitchen cabinet. One of them had his arms chewed off and the rest were surrounding him, aiming their weapons. Someone had staged a regular ole’ battle surrounded by canned goods and potato chips.)
A remote control – Give it up the day you find out you are having a boy. You can have a million toys for him to play with but he will want to play with the remote, slobber on it, touch the pretty buttons, and when he is older you will have to become a fan of cartoons and sports. (I forgot if I was talking about the daddy or the baby… either way, you won’t be allowed to play with the remote anymore.)
Aspirin – No this is not for a headache. This is for all the times your boy will stop your heart with their fearless attitude. He will walk the edge of pools like a tightrope walker, do flips off the couch, talk to strangers, ride his bike with no hands, climb trees…and jump down, get lost, drive a car – agh!
Tissues – This is for the day your son slides his bike out of the garage and the handle bar leaves a big scratch down the side of your new car; For the day he draws on the freshly painted walls because it looked like fun; For the day he pees on you as you change his diaper; For the day he “drives” a grocery cart down the aisles as fast as he can, knocking down about four cans of sweet pickles and running over old ladies and other small children. This box of tissues is for all those moments as well as… his first day of school, when he gets hurt and wants only you, when you have to leave him to go to work, when he is sick in the middle of the night and you can’t make him better, when he slides you a quick kiss without his friends seeing, when he goes to the prom, college…
Wall putty – I know this is obvious but it’s true. You need wall spackle, a putty knife, and sand paper. This will come in handy when your boy knocks a chair clean through the wall, throws a car at the ceiling, etc. The good thing about this is that you can have a career in wall repair when your son is grown up. (If it’s a big hole….email me. I know some tricks that my dad taught me.)
Matchbox car – Watch this thing like a hawk. Cars are like cockroaches …they will multiply. It will have babies of its own and they will come in all shapes and sizes. They will also hide in the deepest, darkest places it can find, sofa cushions, under pillows; I have even found one in the fridge. Watch it! This also applies for army guys, dinosaurs, Legos, and sports cards. (I recently found several army guys in our kitchen cabinet. One of them had his arms chewed off and the rest were surrounding him, aiming their weapons. Someone had staged a regular ole’ battle surrounded by canned goods and potato chips.)
A remote control – Give it up the day you find out you are having a boy. You can have a million toys for him to play with but he will want to play with the remote, slobber on it, touch the pretty buttons, and when he is older you will have to become a fan of cartoons and sports. (I forgot if I was talking about the daddy or the baby… either way, you won’t be allowed to play with the remote anymore.)
Aspirin – No this is not for a headache. This is for all the times your boy will stop your heart with their fearless attitude. He will walk the edge of pools like a tightrope walker, do flips off the couch, talk to strangers, ride his bike with no hands, climb trees…and jump down, get lost, drive a car – agh!
Tissues – This is for the day your son slides his bike out of the garage and the handle bar leaves a big scratch down the side of your new car; For the day he draws on the freshly painted walls because it looked like fun; For the day he pees on you as you change his diaper; For the day he “drives” a grocery cart down the aisles as fast as he can, knocking down about four cans of sweet pickles and running over old ladies and other small children. This box of tissues is for all those moments as well as… his first day of school, when he gets hurt and wants only you, when you have to leave him to go to work, when he is sick in the middle of the night and you can’t make him better, when he slides you a quick kiss without his friends seeing, when he goes to the prom, college…
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Let the Fun Begin!!!
Snips and snails and puppy dog tails. I’m not sure what a snip is but a snail is a lot like a slug that leaves a trail of slime wherever it goes. Gross! That’s what boys are made of? And I have two?!
I don’t know much about boys except that I liked them a lot from about the fourth grade on up. One of my co-workers stopped me as I walked into school one day, “Melissa, you are such a good writer. You should write a book about puberty…for boys. I just can't find anything.” I am not certain what happened to ME during puberty much less any boy. My co-worker continued to discuss hair under the arm and wet dreams to which I exclaimed, “Wet what????”
Now I had something new to brace myself for. I am raising two boys and no one gave me an owner’s manual. I am a girl, a girly-girl. I like pink glittery stuff and am certain I should be wearing a tiara at all times. I never watched sports, was disgusted with dirt, and no one farted in my family, except the dog!
Flash forward to today and I am sitting in our office when our 4 year old sticks his butt in and lets one rip then announces for his brother to come smell his butt. What happened? I was supposed to have a girl. Instead of army men and Matchbox cars, I was supposed to be stepping on Barbie dolls and barrettes. No one prepared me for this and I can’t say I was too happy when the ultra-sound technician flatly announced that I was going to have my second boy. At the next possible chance, I asked her if I could leave to relieve myself of all the water they made me drink. I stepped into the bathroom and sobbed. This was it. No girl in my future. Period. Done. I decided I didn’t have time to wallow in my sadness. I cleaned my face up and stepped back into the ultra-sound room. Because of the darkness, I don’t think anyone noticed my blotchy face.
I wallowed to myself for almost two months. For Halloween, another co-worker brought her granddaughter in to show off her costume. The girl was a vision…beautiful, blond hair, big blue eyes, fair skin, sweet as pie. She was dressed as Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. I remember how her hair was in two neat braids and her red shoes just twinkled. I held myself together for the rest of the school day and tried to reason how ridiculous it was to be upset about not having a girl. I was afraid that if I let myself be upset, God would punish me and give my boy a serious defect. It was strange though. After school I did not pick up my oldest boy from daycare. I went home. I just sat staring out the window then picked up the phone and called my neighbor with three boys. She was busy but I blurted, “I’m having another boy!” She said she understood. She explained that she still has days where she cries over not having the pink bedroom and her oldest boy was 10.
I also kept it from people at work. I was afraid if I uttered the words, “I’m having another boy,” the tears would come with it. So I said nothing for a long time. Finally, my principal asked, “So, have you found out what you’re having yet?” Already emotional from just being pregnant, and then the news of having a boy caused the tears. My eyes welled up and I said, “It’s a boy.” I tried to sound chipper but it was evident I was not happy. He quickly put an arm around and then proceeded to tell our guidance counselor and one of the older teachers, both of whom have two boys. I was assured by both that, although they too had wanted at least one girl, boys were a joy to raise. We’ll see…..
I don’t know much about boys except that I liked them a lot from about the fourth grade on up. One of my co-workers stopped me as I walked into school one day, “Melissa, you are such a good writer. You should write a book about puberty…for boys. I just can't find anything.” I am not certain what happened to ME during puberty much less any boy. My co-worker continued to discuss hair under the arm and wet dreams to which I exclaimed, “Wet what????”
Now I had something new to brace myself for. I am raising two boys and no one gave me an owner’s manual. I am a girl, a girly-girl. I like pink glittery stuff and am certain I should be wearing a tiara at all times. I never watched sports, was disgusted with dirt, and no one farted in my family, except the dog!
Flash forward to today and I am sitting in our office when our 4 year old sticks his butt in and lets one rip then announces for his brother to come smell his butt. What happened? I was supposed to have a girl. Instead of army men and Matchbox cars, I was supposed to be stepping on Barbie dolls and barrettes. No one prepared me for this and I can’t say I was too happy when the ultra-sound technician flatly announced that I was going to have my second boy. At the next possible chance, I asked her if I could leave to relieve myself of all the water they made me drink. I stepped into the bathroom and sobbed. This was it. No girl in my future. Period. Done. I decided I didn’t have time to wallow in my sadness. I cleaned my face up and stepped back into the ultra-sound room. Because of the darkness, I don’t think anyone noticed my blotchy face.
I wallowed to myself for almost two months. For Halloween, another co-worker brought her granddaughter in to show off her costume. The girl was a vision…beautiful, blond hair, big blue eyes, fair skin, sweet as pie. She was dressed as Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. I remember how her hair was in two neat braids and her red shoes just twinkled. I held myself together for the rest of the school day and tried to reason how ridiculous it was to be upset about not having a girl. I was afraid that if I let myself be upset, God would punish me and give my boy a serious defect. It was strange though. After school I did not pick up my oldest boy from daycare. I went home. I just sat staring out the window then picked up the phone and called my neighbor with three boys. She was busy but I blurted, “I’m having another boy!” She said she understood. She explained that she still has days where she cries over not having the pink bedroom and her oldest boy was 10.
I also kept it from people at work. I was afraid if I uttered the words, “I’m having another boy,” the tears would come with it. So I said nothing for a long time. Finally, my principal asked, “So, have you found out what you’re having yet?” Already emotional from just being pregnant, and then the news of having a boy caused the tears. My eyes welled up and I said, “It’s a boy.” I tried to sound chipper but it was evident I was not happy. He quickly put an arm around and then proceeded to tell our guidance counselor and one of the older teachers, both of whom have two boys. I was assured by both that, although they too had wanted at least one girl, boys were a joy to raise. We’ll see…..
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