Volunteering at The Boys Schools

Well, part of the reason I work only part time is to be able to spend time at the different schools to help for things that are needed.  I am not one of those Moms that are there every day (no time for that) or involved in every single thing.  I see those Moms, and I usually say hello, maybe make small talk, and keep walking.  "Ain't nobody got time fo dat",  as a wise lady once said (Sweet Brown).  I do however, have time to help for specific things, when it appears no one else is stepping forward, I do.  Or if it rings high on my interest scale, I do.  If the boys want me involved in a particular thing at school, I try to make time for it.  I am perfectly happy to do it.  Usually.  Until I regret it.

The Oldest is in 8th grade.  His school/PTA usually plans a big 8th Grade Celebration and I knew from the beginning that I wanted to be involved and help.  For lots of reasons, but mainly, because I just felt it.  Long story short, I am now involved.  Let's just say there is a lot of red tape involved with the schools and PTA.  If a person was only half hearted about wanting to help, by now, they would have said 'forget it'.  I'm not so half hearted; I'm pretty FULL hearted.  Though someone else would have walked away, here I am sticking in there and I JUST GOT INVOLVED a few days ago.  Already thinking, what in the world? Doesn't matter, I'm going through with it.  Donations and solicitations, here I come.

Some Mom's are Presidents and Vice Presidents of the PTA and they do other stuff on other committees too PLUS they work full time and have multiple kids.  Kudos to them!  I do not say that lightly.  I mean it.  Having said that, I know that it's not for me.  Can't do it.  I refuse to do that to myself.  I will help where I can and try to remain sane.  Too much going on in my brain.  I probably have helped out more than most, but certainly not more than some.  Make sense?

I've helped with Carnivals and run BookFairs and volunteered in classrooms more times that I can count.  I am on a first name basis with every child in the Littlest' classroom and know all of their personalities pretty well by now.  They are adorable and I have come to love them.  But I'm glad I'm only there one day a week for two hours.  Translation; I do what I can.  Could I do more?  Maybe.  But I like balance.  I have to find balance.  If I added more to my plate, I could not handle the imbalance.

So I'll deal with the red tape and do my little job with donations and try to help make the Oldests' 8th Grade Celebration (8GC) the best it can be in my own little way.  Not to mention I am working together with a friend on this subcommittee so there you go; even easier.  It is volunteering after all; we aren't getting paid to do it so I won't let myself get stressed over it.  Roll, roll, roll.  Rolling down the road of life.

Good For a Laugh

It's been a while since I posted anything funny.  Here's something that made me chuckle and size up life in one second, what goes around, comes around.             

                                                                                                                                           

When I was in high school, I was a sassy so and so to my tennis coach.  Oddly she was my favorite teacher (and coach) but I still gave her a run for her money.  I'm not sure why that is, but there you have it, I wasn't the most well behaved teenager on that tennis team.  One time, we were all playing around at practice, instead of focusing and giving it our all.  She got upset and gave us a warning.  We continued screwing around and some of us even started laughing (I would string up the Oldest by his TOES if he behaved this way).  She had enough and called us in for a group talk and she wasn't happy.  She was fussing about my back hand, fussing about someone not moving their feet, and then she started in on how we were all too silly and not dedicated enough.  Once she had called me out about my backhand needing lots of attention, she ticked me off.  So, I did my famous thing that happens when I get mad, I got quiet.  Then I started to bounce the tennis ball with my raquet (and I'll digress here and say yes, I really did play tennis and that year I was #1 doubles and #3 singles) while she was talking to us, the entire team (and again here I'll say if the Oldest OR Littlest EVER display this disrespectful behavior to anyone/teacher/coach/otherwise, they're in BIG trouble--ahem).  She shot me a look.  I stopped.  She continued talking.  I was still ticked off.  Probably to show I was in charge I started bouncing the ball again.  She sharply called my name, "Jenny!".  I stopped again.  She started to talk again.  Then she started talking directly to me in front of the whole group saying I needed to work on my backhand and it wasn't going to improve on it's own blah blah blah.  Calling me out.  Ok, right here, I'm going to say, I think this might be where all my stubborn streak was enhanced and really brought to the forefront.  This event in my life I have thought about often.  I have never liked to be told what to do (Who does?  But for me, it's akin to someone scraping their nails on a chalkboard, or peeling my skin off, yes, that's about how it feels to me; always has.) but this occasion marks a more savage reaction at least emotionally where I springboarded into how I'd be as an adult I think.  Stronger than before.  I remember feeling VERY sassy and rebellious and without thinking it through, I started bouncing the ball again, but higher, and I looked at her, and she was trying to ignore my obvious ill behavior.  She finally said my name again and said if I didn't stop, I was going to have to run laps and as she said that the ball that I had just bounced REALLY high bounced and hit her in the head.  All I remember is her yelling "RUN and don't stop till I say so!"  Dang.  I was running before she even said 'and don't stop till I say so!'.  Like Forrest Gump, I was runnnING and runnnING and runnnING.  I ran a lot that day and I cried a lot too.  We never talked about it, and I never acted up like that anymore during practice.  Can you imagine that little ole' ME behaved that way?  I'm sure you are shocked.  I was a stinker.  I know I was.

Flash forward to now.  We are playing Cupponk.  The Oldest is not listening.  He is bouncing the ball.  He's messing around.  I tell him to stop.  He doesn't.  He keeps at it.  I continue to try to reign him in.  I give a final warning and he bounces it really high just as I'm asking him to STOP and it bounces way up and hits me square on the head.  Ahem.  I grimmaced (it was only a ping pong ball).  I chuckled inside.  What goes around, comes around.  I'm not sure if his personality will be like mine exactly, maybe a little but it made me smile nonetheless.  He apologized quickly, he felt bad.  Me, I just started running.  I knew I was wrong.  I don't think I meant to hit her in the head but I was certainly ticked off at her.  How DARE she call me out is what was flying through my little immature head. 

The things we do.  The things that happen.  Irony.  Humor.  Life.

The Oldest; Off to Camp

Took him off to camp today.  Here's the proof.  I am so proud of him; he's growing up and growing into himself so nicely.  Who he can be, there's all the potential in the world.  I miss him already but I also know he will make good decisions and that he knows the basics of right and wrong.  I trust in that.  Have fun Oldest.  Make awesome memories!  Come back a little more independant and wiser.  Just not TOO wise.  ;)

Love
Mom

Parenting is TOUGH!

To stick to what you say, to the consequences you set, is sometimes the most tiring, difficult and draining thing in the world.  However, I firmly believe that if I set a limit, or my honey sets a limit, we MUST stick to it.  Otherwise, they won't take us seriously, and it sends a signal that they are in charge and anything goes.

My goal

SO when I say to the Littlest, "If you hit, punch, or kick your brother again, you will go to your room for five minutes!" (and this is not a relatively harsh punishment, I acknowledge) and he hits, punches, or kicks his brother, then I absolutely MUST follow through with what I said.  I don't try to help him weasel out by asking what the circumstances were, or sticking it to the Oldest for how he might have incited the physical outburst from the Littlest, I simply enforce what I said.  And that, initiates all out war.  The Littlest yells, cries, fights like heck going to his room.  After 5-8 minutes of that battle and getting him into this room, I lay down the parameters and he is SO angry.  Oh he is spitfire and so very independent.  That is an understatement.  As I leave his room (three times in two days) he is yelling and screaming and its bad.  But I calmly leave and have said what I needed to say.  He absolutely cannot stand being in his room as a punishment and loses it.  As he yells from his room over and over again, missing the point of his presence (as a normal four year old would) there, I try to remain calm but feel the angst rising, rising.  He yells, "I want out of this room!! I want out of this room!"  over and over and over and over again.  I tune him out for a bit but then I'm not made of steel, and I slowly walk back to his room and close his door, which further incites him.  The only words I say then are, "please stop crying or I will close this door" and finally, he gets it.  Quiet.  So then I simply say, "the longer you yell and cry, the longer you'll be in here, your five minutes will begin when you quiet down."  ---"sniff sniff", wiping tears with back of hands, he looks at me and he gives me a fraction of a pseudo smile (and I do mean a fraction of a fraction) and I knew then I had gotten through to him. 

As the next few moments passed with silence in the house, I knew he was thinking about what he did.  I didn't even make him wait a whole five minutes, I waited  long enough that probably felt like five minutes to him, and went in his room.  We talked quietly about how to use his words instead of his actions and he said he understood and gave me a hug.  He went downstairs to give his brother a hug and apologize.  I think all of that took a good solid 20-25 minutes maybe...very very draining.  It would have been WAY easier to not make him go to his room.  You have no idea.  But I didn't give him the easy way out, what would that accomplish?  Nothing.  This was the first of three very similar incidents lately.  So even though he said he understood, hugged me and all ended well, this happened two more times.  I wonder how many times it will take till he gets it?  I suppose it doesn't matter.  I told him this same exact thing will happen every time he acts out against his brother but now I have added a twist.  As my husband has pointed out, the Littlest keeps getting in trouble, but the Oldest who likely behind the scenes starts trouble out of our line of vision can't seem to manuever out of the muddy waters.  It always ends poorly.  Here's my twist...the next time this happens they BOTH get in trouble and go to their room.  The announcement of this brings shock and disbelief from the Oldest.  The nerve!  WT?  Not fair!  Why?  Whatever!  Mmm hmmm.  Now we have something that might stick.  We shall see.

The things that are guiding me.....stay calm (yes my voice gets loud, and I get upset but in my head, I'm talking myself through it and I remain as calm as I can in the situation), stay consistent, and follow through.  He hugs me every time.  I know he loves me madly.  I also know he is a little bull and has an extremely hot temper.  He did NOT get that from his Daddy.  I suppose maybe he got it from me but I'd have to ask my mom, I don't even think I was that hot headed when I was little.  We are in for it.  I know that.  Hopefully if I set the rules in stone now, it won't be as bad later.  If we are proactive and prep now, maybe by then, when the wild and wooly 12-16 years come, it'll be better.  He's not bad, and for others, he's pretty well behaved.  This is the true side of the Littlest when we are all at home and he is in his comfort/safe zone.  The real Littlest.  :)  I love him so, or I wouldn't be doing all this.  That is for sure. 

Sometimes I just take a deep breath and get through it.  Hold on for the ride and have faith in the Lord.  In the end, it works.  At the end of the day, that's all I can really ask for, and I PRAY they appreciate it later.  Both he and the Oldest, I pray they do.  Its not easy and while they think I'm mean now, I hope later, they understand why..and I hope they see the pieces of my heart all over them because that's how much I love them.

Just Takes A LittleTime...

So how about tonight at volunteering (me and the Oldest volunteer once a month at a local Assisted Living Home) I got a little mad. We do an Ice Cream Social when we go and it's been close to a year now that we've gone. They have gotten to know us, love the kids (Oldest is not the only one in our group we have come to form), and love the ice cream. We have our favs :) and they get seconds if they want it. --Tonight I noticed a new resident. Ms. Ruth. She was sitting with her full plate of dinner in front of her and staring at the ground. I went to offer her a bowl of ice cream but didn't give it because I noticed her untouched food. Asked a nurse and she said 'you can try but she won't eat'. Hmm. In my world, that's a challenge.

I go over, and talk to her quietly to garner her trust. She has early onset Alzheimers the nurse said so my approach was gentle. She didn't understand it was dinner time. When I asked her if she was hungry she wouldn't answer me only asking me other questions and I could tell she was confused. More gently, I tried again. Would you like to taste the ice cream, I can help you with it...she finally agreed to try a small bite. I didn't want to force her so I was borderline timid at first. She kept asking what she was supposed to do next and it was obvious to me she needed help. I asked her name and we began to hit it off. She knew her name. I told her she was a sweet soul and that made her smile big. I was in. Guess what? With my help, she ate the entire bowl of ice cream. She realized how hungry she was after the first taste. As I sat on my knees on that probably very dirty cafeteria floor, I talked with her and fed her. Next up, the bowl of vegetable soup and she went through half of it. She wanted to know my name and she didn't want anyone around the table, paranoid of the lady cleaning up the table and even paranoid about the Oldest who came up to ask me a question one time. I would explain who folks were and what was going on and she was fine. My goodness, my heart was breaking. As I watched three nurses sitting and gossipping in the back corner I began to get angry. I wasn't angry to be doing what I was; just the opposite, it filled my heart and I was grateful to be helping her and for the experience. I was getting angry at them, that they just assumed she wouldn't eat. Look how easy it was for me to get her to eat!

I helped her drink her tea. I talked to her some more. She wanted to know when I was coming back. I wondered whether she would remember me next month. I cleaned her up and told her what would happen next; the nurse would come and take her to her room for the night then she'd come back in the morning for breakfast. Someone would help her. I hope. I left her table after about 20 minutes and made my rounds to chat with the other residents. Right before we left, I went back to Ms. Ruth to make sure she was ok and to say goodnight again and as I approached her she looked up and said, "Hi!" like she'd never seen me before. I don't think she'll remember me next time; it'll be a month till then. Doesn't matter. I'll do the same thing and gladly. In fact I may go once a week, just stop in and chat and check in on Ms. Ruth. See if she needs help eating her dinner. Just takes a little time. A little of my time, a little of the Oldest's time....,.I hope it goes a long way.

My Son, The Storyteller.

Maybe he'll be a writer. Driven to communicate through written word; like me. I'm not sure. But he is comical and thinking and likes to tell big stories. He uses big words and sprinkles in extra words even when they don't make sense. And you just listen with bated breath and wait for the next words. And then you kiss his face. And you want to eat him up. I'm not talking about the Oldest. I'm talking about the Littlest. Here is an example:

"I just saw that bird mom and it was fast and very red. And did you see what he did mom? He was speedy and suddenly he went BAM! and then stopped and turned the corner and said 'choo choooooo' and it was like a train on the track!! Do you know where Spencer is? He's like a racecar bird, no actually, he's just a bird with big feathers and wings, right mom?"

Ok that is a sample and was just the one I remember the most but 'suddenly' and 'actually' get peppered in a lot. And I oh so love when I walk down the stairs and he says "Mom you look beautiful" because he's just three and he recognizes what he thinks is beauty (no snickers please) and can express it at will.

He's something. He loves to talk (hmmm wonder where he got that) and he loves to tell stories (hmmm again I better watch out as he gets wiser to use this to his advantage).

Now the OLDEST, well, he's far too wise. He's going to have 1000% capability to be an attorney one day; and a good one. He's my master manipulator. Um hm. I'm in trouble, arne't I? A story teller and a manipulator (said with love). Go ahead and give me the paddle. I'll start paddling up the creek now. I'll need a good head start. ........ and I'm off......

Oldest

Oh my goodness. He's growing. So fast. Like lightening. Loves new things, does new things, I'm sensing he is really 'growing up'. I know he is, obviously he is, but manners, use of restraint, thinking about things before doing them...I'm watching in amazement and pride. Granted, two minutes later he's egging on the Littlest and instigating a fight for no reason when my bubble is promptly burst but you know, I enjoy it while I can.

Playing the guitar, loves golf, draws for fun, reads without being forced (really, for sometimes 1-2 hours) loves to be outside now (didn't used to be that way).......

Growing, growing, growing. I better watch out. It'll be gone just like that. Love moments like this afternoon when we sat together just he and I making things for people. Creating together. Nice times. That's what got me going with all this in my mind. I appreciate what he is becoming. Good kid, lots of love in his heart. Love that. Love him.

-J

Lets Play a Joke on Mom!

Good Grief. It's late. I'll grant you that. I give it to you; it's dang late. It's 12:11 am and I know I'm groggy headed..

Just watched the debate and all the political rhetoric blah blah after and I feel thirsty. I grab a bottle of water that I think I remembered was mine from earlier in the night. I walk over to the sink (bear with me here) and I take a swig. Suddenly I feel wetness on my shirt. Eh? Musta missed my mouth, it's sort of dark in the kitchen, anythings possible. So I take another drink and am half still looking over at the TV from the sink and I realize, my shirt feels even MORE wet. Huh? Did I miss my mouth again? Musta. I take another big drink and I happen to look down and see water pouring from a hole in the side of the water bottle down on my shirt. I laugh so hard that the water goes flying (sorry for graphics) and I choke. That little S! I can totally see him poking a hole in the side of the water bottle for fun or worse yet to pull a prank on someone. The hilarity of the whole deal really got to me and I go tell my husband and can't really tell the story because I'm laughing too hard..

Who thinks of this stuff? Oh yeah, the Oldest. I'll get him when he wakes up.

Ba Ha Ha! Thought I missed my mouth in the darkish kitchen three times in a row; what the? That little whipper snapper......... love that boy.

Think Thank Thunk and Dentists in Tidewater

Low black clouds; I feel them. Thinking, thanking, and thunking belays. BUT BUT BUT there are so many good things, lots of them. They'll come to me soon. I know it.

Random:

-Do you think dentists really try to cheat you? Do you think they would make up if a child had suddenly lots of cavaties out of nowhere? A child who does not drink any kind of soda, lots of water and second to that, milk? Very little juice in the grand scheme of things? We have not had dental insurance in.a.long.time. We always pay outright every time we take the Oldest. I have not been in years and neither has my honey. So on his last visit (thank you Auntie M) they discovered lots of cavaties and I think they said he was not brushing right or brushing too hard. They wanted us to make two appointments for all the fillings. I called ahead not knowing what the cost would be and wanted to see if they would let us pay 1/2 then 1/2 the next month. No. No they would not. I'm going to another dentist just for that answer alone. Secondly the cost per visits will be 339.00 and 363.00. They have NEVER had to bill us. We always pay on the spot and how nice for them? Immediate pay and no waiting for insurance or billing us/them etc, they just get it. They won't work with us now? I'm peeved over all this and as of tomorrow I will be calling around and finding out just who WILL work with us and that is one less client our dentist will have. He probably does not care but still....I'll feel tons better.

-Am loving facebook, turning out to be lots of fun.

-Do you know who Jim Cramer is? I enjoy him.

-Have been low key lately. I think we could use lots of rain. I like the mood rain brings.

-Do you know the difference between a hockey mom and a bull dog? Yah, you know. Dumb.

Five Years

If you read here, you know that this comes with the territory. It's part of our life and it will never go away.

Five years ago today, Lucas Andrew died at the age of ten months; an infant who waited for permission to go I still believe. Our infant. Thank God he spent more months at home than he did in the hospital after the botched surgery. Thank God for that.

Today at the graveside, the Oldest said, "was I alive when Lucas was alive?" Do you know how this crushed me? Of course you were alive! BUT then he followed it with "I remember when you told me he was in Heaven I told you I was hungry." And yes, that's about how it went. I couldn't think or breathe at that moment and found it extremely difficult to even utter the words an hour and a half later to him that his brother had died. When we did, he told us he was hungry. He was three. He was hungry. My husband told him that he did say that and it was just what we needed to remind us that he (the Oldest) was still here and he needed us because Lucas now had a better care taker; God. Wow. I never thought of it like that.

This life is a perfect contradiction to me. I try so hard to think about things from both sides of the spectrum, give folks the benefit of the doubt, listen to the complaints and know that there is merit in those thoughts of 'look how tough I have it' and I respect that everyone deserves to feel what they feel. I believe that fully. There are those that realize it is what it is and there are those that think 'well this is my road, this is my path, it's always this hard for me and it always will be'. I am extremely close with someone who thinks that and I have come to realize the less I comment on it, the less it affects my thinking. I refuse to believe my life is on a path on the road called Tough Drive. If you succomb to that thinking, you're toast. I need to be fluffy and happy and positive and soft for this life. Not hard and crunchy. It's all in your mind. --He's gone. It was not fun. It was actually extremely painful and I have effectively buried it down to my toes. It only comes out certain times of the year and it's probably better that way.

There is happy and there is sad. There is loud and there is quiet. Happy can go with loud and laughter and sad can go with quiet and thoughtful. I am both. I don't think I used to be, but I am now. It's that perfect contradiction. I now make the most of this life even when I'm really mad at my boys, when they are fighting and yelling and driving me nuts, I strive to make the most of it. I pick up little things on the street and throw them in the trash, no one sees me. Maybe God. I park (usually) further away to walk more or let someone else get the close spot. I'm no saint but when I see even tiny opportunities to do the kind thing, I go for it. I wasn't always that way. Thank you Lucas. You have made me a better person. I have no doubt and I am not taking you or this life for granted. I'm grateful we had you and while it still may be hard for me to accept the cruelty of it all, you weren't meant for this place.

One day we'll know the exact reason why...but then as my honey says....maybe we already do....maybe it's the Littlest. Who understands that twisted irony? Not me...can't even wrap half my brain around it but then I look at the Littlest and I think...maybe so. Maybe so.

A million pounds of love to you Lucas. I hope you feel it.

Mom.

-J

Oldest

Playing in the Ocean. He's so full of life. Love that. Love him. Have fun in the summer buddy.

-J

Home Made Lego Pinata

So it's hard to see but I also made a Lego Pinata. Here is the Littlest hitting it first. Then below the Oldest. Fun day. Best part for me was watching the kids hit that box. Awesome memories.

-J

An Interview About Dad..

This is from the plane ride to Ohio. This is me chatting with the Oldest and having a little idea that me interviewing him in the persona of someone other than his Mom (me) would be fun. This is me asking him questions about his Dad. Lots of fun. Verbatim, see what our conversation held:

Me: Describer your father, Oldest.
Oldest: --very mysterious
--sometimes grumpy (REEEally?)
--very careful (hmmmm)
--loving
--funny
--doesn't like to read books a lot
Me: What do you love most about your Dad?
Oldest: That I can relate to him in so many ways (again with the hmmmmm)
Me: Where was your Dad born?
Oldest: Philippines (this is wrong, he was born in the States at a local Naval hospital)
Me: How old is your Dad?
Oldest: 42 (he's right!)
Me: How many brothers and sisters does your Dad have?
Oldest: Nine (phew!!!----but he DOES have six of them, one in Heaven)
Me: What is the one thing you wish you could change about your Dad if you could?
Oldest: Nothing. He's just great the way he is (wow, even with the grumpy comment, impressive).
Me: What's one thing you want us to know about your Dad?
Oldest: He's the best, greatest, most kind Dad and man ever.

Now there's an interview that I did with him about me but I pretended I was someone else and he had to pretend it was not me talking to him asking him questions about me (GG!). I will pull it out and slap it up here. This is from the heart, soul, and mind of an eight year old. Fun times and memories on a plane. Great little distraction for me too :).

When we get on another plane in about three weeks, I may do it again and later compare and see if his answers are the same or different. My special boy. Fun.

Good Morning Virginia!

"Hello Mom and Dad, hope you have a good day. A hug and a kiss is what I'm gonna pay. "

then he runs over and hugs and kisses his dad and then runs over and does the same for me. So because the Littlest likes to mimic the Oldest, he then does the exact same thing.

too cute.

This is how the Oldest came downstairs this morning. All chipper and happy. Last week was a tough one. Go go go and get up early 630 am thankyouverymuch every day. I think he's getting back to normal now; no more grumpis. Hopefully.....at least that was a good sign....

:)

Golf

It's all golf around here this week. More later. I have no time. Just for this fast.

The Oldest

Is getting older by the minute. Changing, growing, getting more responsible, all of that. Yet why do I feel I'm getting harder on him vs. easing up? Hmmm. I have to think about it. I think I know why. But I'll let you know. He's gonna be a good guy folks. No doubt. He's already the best kid in the world to me. By leaps and bounds I am so proud of him. I told him so today.
I love who he is becoming. I don't love how he thrives off irritating his little brother but I love who he is becoming. Big picture, when I stand back, the painting is starting to get less fuzzy and come in a little clearer. I love what I see.

-J

Pretty Proud

The Oldest received two awards today at his school. One for the National Physical Fitness Award and one for Honor Roll All A's. The parameter for that award was that the child had to get all A's at least one quarter of all four. He has maintained it for all quarters of the year. Even more proud. Above he is wearing the medal for the Honor Roll Award (and yes I made him pose thankyouverymuch). I really truly had no idea what to expect when we went to show our (me and Littlest) support at the Award Program and was going at full speed ahead; story of my life, when I sat down in the cafeteria and got teary eyed before anyone even said a word. End of third grade. He's getting older. And he has such heart. I think I am most proud of his heart. He is kind and thoughtful and that my readers, is really the goal. Yes, smart, all of that too, but kindess and thoughtfulness is the basis for all things in life I believe.

It was a moment, you know, the moment when I got emotional before anyone started speaking? It was like things slowed down, I looked around at all the parents and kids and then the Littlest sitting beside me, and I thought, this is it. This is life. Why we do what we do. Cycles. And coming full circle. Slow down, slow down I said in my head, slow it down. Savor it all. In one instant it will slip through our fingers and our kids will think we are uncool, know nothing, roll their eyes at us (if they don't already ahem....as mine does), and not want hugs and kisses. To see the Oldest's face light up at just the sight of us was priceless.

Wild horses.could.not.have.kept.me.away.from.that.moment.

And now....ready or not.....here comes summer! Good job, Oldest! Your Daddy and I are extremely proud of you! Always!

Mom

(Jenn)

The Boys

I'm going to dress them in matchy matchy outfits for special occasions till they tell me to stop. I know. They are not twins. It's hokey and silly. But I love it. I think at Christmas last year I asked the Oldest if he minded getting some things that matched his brother. He said no, that he thinks its cool. Wonder how long that will last?

So I got them matching trunks and rash guards and spent too much; feeling guilty about it now but dang they are cute. Went to the beach yesterday for a bit to play in the sand and they are cute.

I know, they'll be over it soon. Probably the Oldest will tell me to stop at some point. But it's not all the time. It's once in a while, going somewhere or special occasion. While I can I'm getting all the cute out of them. One day they'll think I'm 'dumb' and 'not cool' and right now, I'm taking full advantage of the fact they think I'm the best and awesome. ;)

Bad Word Mamma!

Ok, I will preface this with, and you should know before you begin this read, these are not words from MY mouth, this time it was not my slip up and it's not a story like that or about that. So don't get all excited yo, this is just a general, how funny is my child story for like the zillionth time. So sit back, relax and maybe smile for a second...

Oh how I love when the Littlest comes running in the room, announcing to me and whoever else will listen that someone has just said a bad word. I do. I love it. Now, you could look at it like, 'he should not even know the word to know it's bad' and well, I guess that's true. But these are not words like H***, S***, D***, or worse yet, the F Bomb. These are words like 'stupid' and 'poodes' (one of his school buddies slang word for 'poop') which we have now banned from the house as all the boys fall into fits of laughter when this word is emitted from one's mouth. Just the sound of the word, "poodes (like Poo+Des) is enough to make one smile. A mamma cannot be seen smiling or it encourages the fits of laughter. How unfair to make my smile go inside! To turn around is a sure sign the smile is being hidden and laughter gets more pronounced...so turning around to hide the smiling is forbidden. The mamma must stand there, stock still, thinking of horrible things like shots and needles and bees, all things the mamma strongly dislikes so not to smile. -----

So he's watching (and I quote) "Thomas and the Magic and the Railroad" (as opposed to Thomas and the Magic Railroad) and they say the word stupid in there at least once. He knows this is a 'bad' word. I think from school. As soon as I caught on that he knew it was 'bad' I ran with it, and showed my agreement, "yes Littlest, it IS a bad word, we don't use that word". To which he replies, "We use good words like thank you and God bless you" yes, right, we do, um hmm (God bless you? ok..) He runs into the room, where I am helping with homework and the Oldest review and he again announces, "momma, bad word, they said a bad word, I'm not saying it, I'm NOT!" uh, ok......"good job Littlest, that's right, what did they say?" Testing...testing....then he says, "I'm not saying it member?" Ah..right...I "member". And he looks at me and smiles and calmly walks away. What a bubba dubba. Why do I love him so much?

So we are working on days of the week, learning to describe himself (really working on teaching descriptives on his level), and counting to 20 which he's got down pretty good except for 17-20. He's amazing to me, we've been going on bike rides, he on his 'trike' and me on my bike and when I think about a year ago, life has changed drastically. The Oldest helps him become more independant every day. Yes while he irritates the S*** out of him, they are definitely friends and the Oldest will do anything for the Littlest and is WAY more loving to him than the Littlest is to him. The Littlest is not so very affectionate. I have learned not to be affected or get hurt feelings about this anymore, it's just the way he is. When he wants his hugs, he'll come and get them.

I know the day will come when the bad words will be much worse so for now, I'm counting my lucky stars they are just what they are. They both make me just smile. :)

PS

Yah, I'm still up. Remind me to tell you about the interviews we did on the plane home from Ohio. I interviewed the Oldest as if I wasn't his mom. I asked him a ton of questions about his Dad and then the same exact questions about his Mom. Just wait. Very cute and I saved both papers. Love that documenting time stuff when they are little.

Good night. For real. Yo.