that smells good

Recently I’ve been down in Moscow visiting my parents quite a bit.  My dad has had a tough year health wise, and I’ve been helping them as much as I can.  I feel fortunate to live close enough to be able to pop down for a day.  And with my kids getting older, it makes it easier to leave them.

Although I know they are going to be just fine, it is still hard on my kids when I leave.  I’m a firm believer that all kids like structure and if we are being completely honest, dad’s aren’t the most structured people.  My husband is easily distracted and will forget about meals or bedtime if he is in the middle of a game (both the kind you watch and the kind you play).

That being said, he is one of the most involved dads I know.  He is always taking the kids on bike rides, or out back to shoot hoops.  We are all really lucky.

When I’m gone, I call the kids (and Steve) every night.  One evening while I’m talking to Luke, he suddenly stopped talking for a moment and sighed.

“Ahhhh, I can smell your hair through the phone mama.  Did you just wash your hair?”

I didn’t want to explain that you can’t smell through the phone, so I just went with it.

“Yes I did”

“It smells so good - it makes me miss you more.”

I knew exactly what he meant.  I have been hit by certain smell that immediately reminds me of a place or a person.  It can catch you off guard.  I once walked into a friend’s grandparents’ home and was immediately reduced to tears.  Something about their home smelled like my grandparents’ house and it just brought me back 20 years.

“I miss you too,” I replied to my son.

I’m glad I can help out my parents as much as I do, and I find a certain comfort in going to my childhood home.  But my home now is with my husband and kids, and it always feels great to get back home.

And most of the time it smells good too.

all tied up

My youngest, Luke, has recently discovered the beauty of the clip-on tie.  He will clip them on to whatever he is wearing (usually muscle shirts - that is a whole other story), and he is magically transformed into a dressed up young man.

He has a couple that came with the button down shirt he wore for his uncle’s wedding.   To make things extra dressy he will wear them with a polo shirt.  He has tried to wear this look to church - but usually the tie comes off before we make it out the door (it is hard to be that handsome for more than five minutes).

Clip-on ties are pretty slick.  No knots to tie, just clip it on - instant class.

Steve came home from work when while Luke was playing with the ties, and Luke eagerly clipped one on Steve.

“Look Mom - Dad’s all handsomed up.”

Here is hoping, that in this holiday season, someone gifts you a clip-on, and you get all handsomed up!

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reading

Luke had a lightbulb moment last night.

For weeks he has been asking me how to spell everything,  wondering about the words on signs he sees around town.  Every question I ask him, he answers by spelling out y-e-s or n-o.  I’ve had a feeling he was about to start reading.

So after dinner, I wrote the word “cat” on a scrap of paper and asked Luke to read it.

An exasperated Luke replied, “Mama, you know I can’t read.”

I nodded and said, “Just try to sound it out.”

“Ku - A - Tuh…. cat?”

“Yep, you just read your first word!”

We all started cheering as I wrote down all the “at” words.  Zach was right in there cheering his little brother on.

Later that evening Steve read to both the boys.  In books that have a rhyming pattern, Steve will have them “read” the last word.  Luke was guessing the words quicker than Zach, and Zach was soon in tears.

I took him in the other room and asked what was the matter.

“Luke can already read better than me,”  he sobbed.

My heart broke a little.  Reading hasn’t come easily to Zach and it looked as if Luke will be a natural.

I reminded him that Luke wasn’t really reading the words - he was making good guesses because of the rhyming clues.  I also reminded him of how he could read chapter books, and Luke was only reading very simple words.

I talked about how we all have special talents, reminding him that he rode his 2-wheeler at 3 and that at almost five, Luke still had training wheels.

Zach wanted to know if he could read words when he was in preschool.  I hesitated, but went with the truth and said no, but pointed out to him that Luke had the benefit of having an older brother.  He hadn’t had that.

As I went to bed that night, I thanked God that the boys were 3 years apart.  It would be awful for Zach if they were only a year apart, and Luke was always nipping at his heels.   I also thanked Him for 2 boys who love reading.  Zach will spend his allowance on books, and Luke and his best friend pour over library books during playdates.

Am I proud Mom?

Y-E-S.

twinkle in my eye

“Where do babies come from?”  

Those 5 words strike terror in most moms’ minds.  I still don’t know when to have “the talk” with Zach.

Lucky for me, Luke has it all figured out.

Luke spent the day with his best friend Andrew last weekend.  He came home with some new information about where babies come from.

“You get a twinkle in your eye, and then the baby comes out of your eye.”

Ouch!

I asked about babies being in bellies.  He has seen pictures of me showing off my belly the night before he was born.

He was unswayed by the evidence - it was a “true story”.

I couldn’t wait to ask Paula, Andrew’s mom, about this.  She laughed and said she told her kids she had three twinkles in her eyes (she has three children).  When her kids ask if they can have a baby brother or sister, she has them look in her eyes for more twinkles.  No more twinkles, so no more babies.

Her only daughter is always asking her how many twinkles she has in her eyes.  She can’t wait to be a mama (she is only 6).

I told Paula that she is probably messing up her daughter.  When she grows up, she’ll always hear her mother in the back of her mind, telling her how many twinkles are in her eyes.  She’ll never feel complete until she has that many babies.

I knew where babies came from by 1st grade.  An older neighborhood girl had just found out and couldn’t wait to share her new knowledge.  I was horrified (I think she was too).

Zach is in 2nd grade and still doesn’t have a clue.  Do I just wait until he asks?

Life is so much easier in Luke’s mind.  You get a twinkle, you get a baby.

True story.

stalking

In the About Me part of this blog, I shared that I always have had an internal conversation going on inside my head.  

No, not voices telling me to do crazy stuff, just me, going over how I would tell my friends about something that happened to me.  

Usually I try to enhance the funny parts - spice it up a little.

What I like about blogging is that I have a forum to try out my best bits.  Like a practice run.

 I just forget that other people read this. 

This past weekend I had several different people quote me back to me, and it freaked me out a little bit.  It felt like they were stalking me.  

But they are not, I’m the narcissus who’s putting all her personal thoughts out there for people to read.  I love it when people read my blog.

It is just a little disconcerting when someone says something to me that I know I have never discussed with them.

“Oh yeah you wouldn’t want to go, you hate Pig Out in the Park.”

It made me think of one of my all time favorite movies, “When Harry met Sally”

Harry is fixing his best friend Jess up with Sally, and Sally is fixing her best friend Marie up with Harry.   But instead of liking Harry and Sally they end up hitting it off with each other.  

The clincher was when Marie quotes a line from a magazine article, that Jess had written, back to him.  He was blown away that he was being quoted by this total stranger.  What an ego boast - it totally sealed the deal between the two of them.

It is a total ego boast for me too.  But also a little disarming.  

Oh the price you pay for being a blog writer.

when you’re 8

When Zach was younger, and he wanted to do something that I didn’t think was appropriate, I would tell him he could do it when he was 8.

I thought I was being funny and that 8 was a long, long, long time away.

We would all joke about what a red banner year Zach’s eighth year would be.

Well, eight came sooner than I thought it would, and I’m starting to regret how casually I threw out that age.  Why didn’t I say 15?  Or better yet 21?  

But I said 8 and that is only 4 short months away.

What bugs me the most is not the things I promised he could do, but the fact that he is actually turning 8.  

It happened so fast.

And lately I’ve been feeling uncharacteristically sentimental.  

I’m not one of those women who ooh and ahh over babies.  I don’t wish with teary eyes to have another one in my arms.

I remember the hellish nights and the isolation I felt when my boys were babies.  I don’t long for that again. 

But I would like to hit a pause button and have them stay this age a little longer.  

They are at that perfect age where they are becoming more independent, but still think Steve and I hung the moon it the sky.  

How much longer will Zach yell after me, when I drop him off for school, that he loves me?

How much longer will he enjoy Luke and I calling back our love for him?

How much longer will he want me to read to him and tuck him in each night?

How much longer will his face burst with happiness when he catches a glimpse of me at the end of the school day?

I know this time is numbered.   Before I know it he’ll be 8, then 18. 

So my suggestion to all you mothers (and fathers) out there is to not wish this time away - enjoy every stage.  

Because before you know it they will be 8.

johnny appleseed

The following is the conversation I just had with Luke about what he learned at school today.  Enjoy how his 4 year old mind works.

Luke:  We learned about Johnny Appleseed today.  He was friends with everyone.

Me:  Everyone?

Luke:  Yeah everyone.  Even wasps.

Me:  Even wasps?

Luke:  Yeah, even grizzly bears!

Me: Wow, what else?

Luke:  Johnny Appleseed knows karate.

Me:  He does?  Why?

Luke:  Because even ninjas were alive back then.

Me:  They were?

Luke:  Yeah - Johnny Appleseed was friends with ninjas and they taught him karate.

Me:  Mrs. Nyholm taught you that?

Luke:  No I just knew it.

Amazing what is just common knowledge for Lukie.

tonsil fairy

When Luke got his tonsils out last year, he had a tough couple weeks.  At least one time each night he would wake up crying, and because of the pain, the crying would lead to hysterics.  The more he screamed, the worse it hurt and that made him scream louder.  

It was an vicious cycle that needed to be stopped.  No one was getting a good night’s sleep.

I was complaining about all of this to my physical therapist.  Funny how close you become to someone who has her hands on you every week.  She’s never met any of my family, but she has heard all of my best stories.

She said that I should have the tonsil fairy come and visit.  Genius!  I had concocted a fingernail fairy for Zach - I don’t know why I didn’t think of this myself.  

For the next hour while she worked on my body,  we worked on a tonsil fairy story to help Luke get back to his normal sleep routine.

So with a secret stash of peanut butter cups, I told Luke that I had had a visit from the tonsil fairy.  I explained how upset she was.  She had been trying to give him a treat for getting his tonsils out, but his crying was scaring her away.  

I told him that if he slept through the night, he would probably find a treat under his pillow.

As a side note, I’m all about bribery - especially if it helps you get a good night sleep.  I call bullshit if you say you never use it.

When I tucked Luke in that night, he was very excited to have the tonsil fairy visit.  He was determined to sleep through the night and not scare the fairy.

The first night he did wake up, but there wasn’t the usual screaming.  I got him a drink, tucked him in, and he slept soundly the rest of the night.  

That morning both Luke and Zach (I couldn’t leave out the older brother, he had put up with the nightly screams too) had treats under their pillows.  

We continued this for several more nights, and he finally got back to his old sleeping routine.  

My P.T. had been a nanny and had used all kinds of fairies to make her life a little bit easier. 

Binky fairy, diaper fairy, haircut fairy:  any kind of fairy to help with new experiences.

I highly recommend fairies - their magic has worked wonders on our family.

bullsh*#

My husband woke up this morning and said he was sore from riding the bull.  You heard  read correctly - sore from riding the bull.  No, he is not referring to some sex act we tried to spice up our sex life.  He actually rode a mechanical bull at our town’s Labor Day festival Pig Out in the Park.

I personally hate Pig Out.  It is crowded, the food is mediocre and there is never a place to sit.  Throw a couple toddlers into the mix and this is not the way I want to spend my long weekend.  More labor than fun.  

But my husband thinks it is great, so he took our two boys down there yesterday afternoon.

He was thrilled when he came home.   He sounded like one of the boys.

 ”Jane, Jane you’ll never guess what I did.  I rode a mechanical bull all the way to level 5 and it was free because I knew the guy.  Isn’t that great?!”

I didn’t share his enthusiasum.  My first thought were the kids.  Who was watching them while he was making an ass out of himself on a stupid bull?

His face fell when I asked him this - I don’t think it even crossed his mind that some pedophile could have nabbed our kids while he was having “the ride of his life”.

Ugh!!

Then he has the nerve to say that I should come up with a list of things he shouldn’t do when he leaves the house.  

So here is your list.  I’ll add to it as you do stupid things.

Things to remind my husband not to do when he goes out the door.

1.  Ride a mechanical bull

2.  Trust a “carny” to watch your kids when you make an ass out of yourself on the above bull.

3.  Go for a run in the heat of the day, come home exhausted, and be useless the rest of the day.

4.  Go for a 4 hour bike ride without bringing enough food and water so you don’t “bonk”.

These are recent transgressions.  I’ll add to the list when needed.

(This post was written a week ago - Steve still has bruises on his thighs.)

lace-up shoes

I took my 4 year old shopping today.  Before we went, I quickly checked his old shoe size.  I was going to have his feet measured, and if they had grown, he was going to get new shoes.  But if his feet were the same size, he could keep wearing his old ones, they were still in good shape.

Bad mommy moment #1: His feet were two sizes bigger.  I’ve been stuffing his feet in those shoes all summer.  ouch!

We get to the store and all Luke can talk about are lace-up shoes.  His buddy Luke Marshall has new lace-up shoes, and he wanted lace-up shoes too.

Hmm let me think about this….

No - I sorely regretted buying lace-ups for Zach before he learned to tie, and I cursed every time I had to tie them. 

Luke countered that he would tie his own shoes.  Now mind you Zach still needs help tying his shoes and he is 3 years older than Luke.  I explained this to a disappointed Luke.

Well the shoe gods weren’t working with me.  The only shoes that had velcro on them were the wrong size, so it was Luke’s lucky day.  

Luke was thrilled and wanted me to teach him to tie his shoes right away.  I kept putting him off, remembering how frustrating it was to instruct Zach.

Finally, after Luke asked me for the 100th time, I had Bella, a 9 year old I watch after school, work with him.

After 10 minutes Bella came to me with a gigantic grin.  

Are you kidding me??

Luke had already figured it out!!  

This morning I had to work at the church for 2 hours, and Luke kept himself occupied by tying and untying his shoes.  

Sometimes I forget that my boys are two very different kids.  They have different likes, different personalities and learn at different rates.  

Today was a good reminder.

join the conversation

As we drove to church today, we passed a house for sale that has been drastically updated.  Steve and I were both commenting on how great it looks.  The only part we don’t like are these huge grecian statues they put out front.  They don’t make any sense and are just too big.

My husband and I were coming up with other things that would look better. Flower baskets, lights, even a lion would look better.

From the backseat (and out of left field) comes my four year old’s idea.

“I think baby seahorses would look great floating around there.”

What?  We didn’t even realize he had been listening to our conversation.  

I think he really thought this was a million dollar idea.  And he was quite proud of himself for adding to the conversation.

Just another sign that our kids are always listening - and a reminder to watch what we say.

“My cat’s breath smells like cat food.” Quote from Ralph, the slow kid from the Simpsons, when he is trying to have an intellectual discussion with Lisa.  Just another kid just trying to join the conversation.

luke squared

Steve and I are both teachers, so when it came time to name our kids, we had a lot of very strong opinions.  We couldn’t use a name that reminded us of a challenging child.  We weren’t going to burden our kids with names that are difficult to pronounce or spell.  And we weren’t going to choose a name that was popular or trendy.

We both loved the name Luke and hadn’t had any Lukes in our combined 20 years of teaching, so we figured we were safe.  

You can imagine my surprise when Luke started preschool and out of the 10 kids in his class there were two Lukes.  His teacher solved this problem by calling them by their full names, Luke Somers and Luke Marshall.  

Soon I was hearing a lot about Luke Marshall.  They became fast friends and because I enjoyed his mom, we did lots of playdates together.

What has cracked me up about their relationship, is how they talk to each other.  They sound like two, very formal, older gentlemen. 

“Luke Marshall, do you want to play dinosaurs?”

“Luke Somers, come and see this bug!”

It reminds me of a long gone era.  A time when adults were call Mr. or Mrs. and were spoken to with respect.  

As sappy as it sounds, I think a lot of the world’s troubles are due to a lack of respect for adults.  If children were taught by their parents to speak to others with consideration, I think a lot of our problems would disappear.  

Luke Somers and Luke Marshall can pave the way!

t-ball

This summer I coached my 4 year old in t-ball.  I thought this would be fun, and although it was Luke’s idea to play, he has refused to listen to me as his coach.

I promised myself that I wouldn’t get caught up in all the sports craziness, but I have.  I want him to try and to have fun.  And I find myself being embarrassed when he doesn’t.  In fact, I feel like killing him when he acts this way.  I have to take deep breaths and remind myself that he is only four.

If all the other kids acted like this it would be one thing, but they don’t. They all try, and my son is just lies there and complains - he’s tired, he’s hot, he’s bored.

My friend Robin suggested that I pretend Luke is hard of hearing.

“Luke would do what I ask him,” I could explain to the other parents, “but I have a hard time signing with my mitt on.”

Or maybe he has toddler narcolepsy.  

“Shhhh, he’s sleeping.”

But alas I am stuck parenting and coaching at the same time.  He probably would do better if I wasn’t his coach.  Then I could sit back and enjoy watching the little kids running the wrong way and laying down in centerfield.

I could shake my head and chuckle, happy it isn’t my child acting like a turkey.

the middle finger

I watch kids for extra money.  It is usually a win-win situation for my children and me.  I make some dough and they get a playmate.

Last week I had two extra boys; one older, one wiser.  They were on our front porch playing, and I was doing one of my favorite activities- eavesdropping.  I love to listen to my kids play, to hear their interactions.  I capture priceless little tidbits such as, “Let’s pretend we are babies and Hans Solo is our father and our mother is dead.”  Thanks to Disney most scenarios my kids come up with involve a dead mom.

This day the conversation I caught wasn’t so innocent- I guess Zach was counting on his fingers and stuck up his middle one.  The other boys thought this was hilarious (remember they are older and wiser) and I heard someone say the “f-word” (they really said “the f-word” instead of using the actual word).  

This seemed like a good time to make my presence known.  I walked onto the porch, and said I didn’t want anymore talk like that.  Immediately Zach’s face fell and he got tears in his eyes.  I took him inside away from the other boys.

I said he wasn’t in trouble, but I wanted to know if he knew what the middle finger meant.  He nodded his head yes and whispered, “Death.”

I was flooded with relief.  I know how he came up with this notion.  Six months before when I saw him pointing with that finger, I told him that it was a naughty finger and pointing it at people meant one of the worst swear words.  

I can see how he came up with “death” as the bad word.

As I relayed the story to my husband, I asked him about when we should tell him the real f-word (right now Zach thinks it means fart).  Do we let him learn it on the playground like we all did?  I certainly didn’t have my folks sit me down and explain the word.  Does it come out when we have “the talk”?  Any ideas out there?

gentlemen

The other afternoon I spent an hour with my boys, one on either side of me, flipping through photo albums. Okay, I haven’t gotten around to making actual albums - these photos are on the web and the flipping was actually clicking-sue me organized scrapbooking mothers.

Both boys loved seeing pictures of themselves as babies and trying to guess who was who (hint - in the pictures with two boys, the baby is always Luke).  I loved remembering and silently thanked God that they are older and sleep through the night (except when they have a nightmare or have to pee or …).

At dinner that night we shared our rose and thorn for the day (the best and worst thing that happened to us).  I said that my rose was looking at pictures with my boys.  I felt so proud that they were growing up to be such nice gentlemen.

I looked over at Zach, and he was beaming from the praise.

When I looked at Luke, he had an indignant look on his face.

“We are not gentlemen, Mom.  Gentlemen tuck in their shirts,” Luke shared.

What???  Where does he get these ideas?  When I asked him, he said they just comes to his head.

Good luck future teachers of Luke!

i was soooo embarrassed!

I just got back from the lake with one of my dearest friends Paula.  Paula and I have raised our kids together and have similar parenting techniques (this is a big reason we enjoy each others company).

Paula’s sister Marci joined us at the lake.  Paula and her sister are very close despite the 10 year age difference.  They started families at the same time, and the cousins get along famously.  

Marci and I were sitting on the dock, and she started telling me a funny story that happened when her youngest was 1. (She said I’d probably blog about it - you were right Marci!)

Marci and her kids were at the pool for swim lessons.  Her one year old bolted and ran into the “family” dressing area.  This area, that they call “the caves”, consists of cubicles with curtains.  

Marci and her older boy were in hot pursuit of Jack.  Just as they catch up with him,  Jack whipped open the curtain to display a completely naked dad stepping out of his swimsuit. 

Marci said she didn’t know what to do, so she grabbed her kids and ran into the next door “cave”, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

At this point in the story, I figured she would tell me how mortified she was.  But she looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’m so glad I didn’t miss that.  If I was working it would have been someone else’s story, not mine.”

Maybe that is what being 10 years younger brings to the table - a certain carpe diem way of parenting.  What a wonderful way to look at that embarrassing moment.  Sometimes I want to kill my kids for the mortifying situations they put me in.  But later they make great stories (and wonderful blogs!).  Thank you Marci for reminding me to enjoy the moment.

random thoughts from Lukey

“Zach, wouldn’t it be cool if we were Legos and could turn our heads frontwards and backwards?!” (Luke was playing with the little Lego people whose heads turn completely around.)

“Mom, I went as slow as a maniac!” (on our new slip and slide)

“Bill, don’t you wish you had a shrinking machine and you could shrink your hot tub?”  (our neighbor Bill was getting rid of his gigantic, broken down hot tub)

(hi Aunt Bonnie!)

you say it’s your birthday??

When Luke turned 4, he was just 7 days out from getting his tonsils removed.  I heard from a lot of people that their child’s tonsillectomy was a piece of cake.  They told me that their children were eating hamburgers and running around that same day.

Well I call bullshit!  Why do people tell me these stories?  It is almost like a competitive thing.  “Little Susie broke her leg during the relay race, but she still was able to finish the race and win the long jump afterwards.”  When I hear these stories I wonder what I’m doing wrong.

So back to Luke’s birthday.  I schedule his tonsillectomy for a week before his birthday.  Because getting tonsils out is going to be a cinch.

But poor Luke didn’t get that memo - he was still in a lot of pain on his birthday and didn’t want anything to do with it, even though we had a houseful of relatives wanting to see our happy go lucky boy turn 4.

First thing on his birthday morning, Luke informed me that he wasn’t turning 4, because his best friend Andrew was still 3.  He also didn’t want anyone singing happy birthday, so instead we sang the Johnny Appleseed prayer (at least it wasn’t “I’m Too Sexy…”).

As the relatives arrived I whispered to them not to mention anything about his birthday, unless they wanted to see a giant tantrum.

But the surest way to get a kid to meltdown is to walk on eggshells trying to prevent one from happening in the first place.

By the time cake was served, we were both in tears.  I felt like an awful mom - on display for all to see.

It took a couple weeks until Luke felt normal again.  In fact he was better than normal - with no more sleep apnea he was the easy going child we remembered.  And finally he was ready to be 4.  

It’s been 6 months since Luke turned 4 and I’m finally ready to tell this story.

“Oh the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord.  For giving me, the things I need, the sun and the rain and the apple seed.  The Lord is good to me!”

feet washin’

I sing silly songs to my boys each night about our day.  Some nights it is the last thing I want to do, but I try to remind myself that someday they aren’t going to want this and I’ll be sad.

Tonight Luke asked why I make up these songs.  I said, “Because I love you.”

Luke thought about this for a moment and said, “Then I’ll wash your feet.”

I know that sounds weird, but it almost made me cry.  Last week Luke had his feet washed by Pastor Eric at preschool.  Eric told the kids that Jesus washed his friends feet because He loved them.

Now you can see why I was so touched.  You never know what kids are going to remember.

eavesdropping

I love listening to my children play.  They have so much fun in their imaginary worlds.

We are lucky enough to have Bella, an 8 year old we watch, in the mix of things.  She brings a girl’s perspective to the table and makes it “okay” to play house or babies.

Of course the boys add their own little twist to things.  The other day this was the story line they created.

Zach:  Pretend I’m a baby and Hans Solo is the mama.

Luke:  I’m a baby too!

Zach:  Okay you’re a baby too and then our mother dies.

Which brings me to a point of contention with Walt Disney.  In most of his great animated movies, the mother is dead or dies.  Think about it:

Cinderella: Dead mom, dad marries a meany.

Finding Nemo:  Mom dies and dad becomes overprotected.

Snow White:  See Cinderella above.

Bambi:  Evil hunters shoot his mama.

Come to think of it a lot of other kid stories have dead mothers - Harry Potter, Wizard of Oz.

What is it with Hollywood killing off all the moms?  Does it make the story better?

Something to think about.

Random thoughts by Luke

Luke: “Mommy, I don’t like everybody.”

Me:  “Sure you do.”

Luke in his super exasperated voice:  “No … I … Don’t!”

Me taking the bait:  “Okay, who don’t you like?”

Luke:  “Bad guys.”

———————————————————————————-

Luke:  “Mommy, I’m really nervous.”

I think I know why.  We have just been talking about him getting up in front of his music class and singing.

Me:  “What are you nervous about?”

Luke:  “Living dinosaurs.”

Makes you wonder what is going on in that gigantic head.

Letter to Santa

My girlfriend’s little boy wrote a letter to Santa as an assignment in his classroom.  Santa wrote all the children back, and the little boy was thrilled show his mom the letter.  She was confused after she read the letter.

“I didn’t realize you wanted a ball for Christmas.”

The boy replied, “I don’t, but I didn’t know how to spell Star Wars Clone Trooper Blaster.”

May all your Christmas wishes come true - even if you don’t know how to spell it.

fears

While I was riding the escalator at the mall with my youngest, I thought about how having kids (especially boys) has gotten me over all kinds of fears.

Escalators have always made me nervous, especially going down on them.  I always think that I’m going to get my foot caught, trip and fall.  I’ve heard horror stories about people falling and their hair getting caught in the escalator and they were scalped. (probably an urban myth, but I’m extra careful - I like my hair)

When they opened a movie theater on the fifth floor of our mall, I made Steve take the elevator.  Five flights of escalators with nothing but glass on either side, showing me how high up I am, completely freaked me out.

Now look at me.  Luke is having the time of his life riding up and down on these escalators and I’m along for the ride.  I might not love every minute of it, but my heart isn’t racing.

There are other fears I’ve conquered: pain (c-sections, lung surgery), blood (too many trips to the emergency room), gigantic bugs (”can we keep him?? I already named him Bob!”), and all kinds of bodily fluids.

All this in the name of motherhood.  Oh the things we do for our kids.

motherly advice

My youngest is driving me nuts.  If I say left, he says right.  Black is white and up is down.  You get the point - he is testing his boundaries.

My friend told me that when she was a nanny, the parents of the little girl she watched told her that they didn’t want her spirit broken.  Personally I’m all for breaking spirits - they need to know who is the boss.  Parents are too busy trying to be friends with their kids and having conversations about their wrong choices.  Pleeeeese - sometimes no is no and it is “because I said so”.

This week has been especially trying with Luke.  He had a field trip to go rake and jump in leaves which he refused to participate in.  He stood off to the side, with his little arms crossed and pout on his lips.  The other parents were amused, I was embarrassed and the teacher was perplexed -”I’ve never seen Luke act like this before”.  Lucky me - he saves all his obstinacy for me! (actually,  I’m glad he is good in school.)

I was complaining to my mom about this.  I was dreading Halloween because he was already telling me he was not going to wear his costume.  My mom suggested that I tell him that if he doesn’t wear his costume, then he doesn’t get to do the fun stuff, and then walk away.

This advice kind of irritated me.   All I wanted to do was bitch, but I got advice.  Does she think I don’t know what I’m doing.  Does she think I’m a pushover?  Does she think Luke’s a brat?

After a day of stewing about it, I got a chance to apply her advice.

The day of Halloween we had a zillion places and parties to go to.  Luke really wanted to go to all of them but was refusing to wear a costume.  So I said, “No costume, no parties or trick or treating.”

This of course sent him into a frenzy - but once he realized I meant business, he grudgingly donned his costume and off we went.

Mom’s advice worked!!!

I hate it when she is right.

I don’t know where Luke got his stubborness.

from the mouth of babes

We all think our kids are smart - I’m no exception.

My three year old blows me out of the water some days.  He has a vast vocabulary and is always explaining what he is trying to say, as if I’m the 3 year old and he is the adult.

Here are some examples of Lukeyisums:

Luke:  It is very sloppy outside.  Do you know what I mean Mama?  It means it is raining really hard.

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Me:  We have to run a couple errands.  We are going to the pharmacy and the grocery store.

Luke:  Where else are we going??

Me:  That’s all.

Luke:  Moooommm, in my book a couple means three, not two.

————————————————-

Luke:  Mom, these monster shoes are pretty awesome.  Not pretty as in beautiful, but pretty as in very.

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Okay reading these back they don’t seem that remarkable, but when they are coming out of my little one’s mouth they simply delight me.

campin’

Note from editor: I started this at the end of summer - It’s a funny story so I thought I would still publish it.

We just returned from camping with our friends.  Back before kids, we were serious campers.  We would hike in to a beautiful remote spot - and enjoy peace and nature.

Now we car camp.  Just drive up, park and set up your tent.  Who knew camping was so easy?!  I’m not sure if I really like it, but the kids have fun and I love a campfire.

When we checked in, we noticed that we were in the middle of what looked like a family reunion.  All the other campsites were reserved for the Farnsworth’s.

Well those Farnsworth’s love to party - their picnic tables were covered with bottles of liquor and they were pretty loud.  Luckily the sites are far apart so they didn’t really bother us.

Late the first night I was walking back from the bathroom (yeah there were flushing toilets - sue me) and I heard some loud crackling.  As I got closer to our campsite I saw tall flames from the adjacent campsite licking the air.  I ran to see what was on fire and it turns out that the Farnsworth’s love a giant bonfire and were pouring cans of gasoline on their campfire (dumb@#$).  A ranger was right behind me, so I told her what I saw and headed back to bed.

The next morning we awoke to three police cars giving the Farnsworth’s 1 hour to clear out.  It turns out that they were actually a local company all camping together.

Now here is the kicker (I am not making this up) - their company is called Fire Protection - they install sprinklers in buildings.  Maybe they were trying to kick up a little business.

Campfires and police - our boys thought it was the best camping trip ever!!!

sun

The following is a real conversation my 3 year old had with me this morning.  His preschool is going to go on a little fieldtrip to the park to rake leaves and jump in them.

Luke- “Mom, I’m excited about going to rake the leaves, but the sun is really bugging me.” (We’ve had some beautiful sunny days this last week.)

Me - “Why is the sun bugging you?  I know for a fact that he really likes you - he called me on the phone to tell me.”

Silence - I can actually hear the wheels turning in his 3 year old brain.

Luke - “Mom, the sun doesn’t have a phone!”

Busted - my days of making crazy crap up are coming to an end.

It bums me out - if I can’t mess with my kids who am I going to mess with?

shopko

Today when I was talking to my 3 year old about school, he informed me that they went to Shopko.

I figured that this was a role playing game like going to the doctor or playing school.

So I ask, “How do you play going to Shopko?”

In his most exasperated 3 year old voice Luke replies, “Mooooom (I can’t truly describe the whininess in his voice, but I’m sure the moms out there know the tone)- you don’t play going to Shopko, you just go to Shopko.”

Now I’m really confused - what is Mrs. Nyholm doing taking 10 three year olds to Shopko.  Seems like a strange fieldtrip.

Trying to get more information I ask him what they did at Shopko.

“Oh Pastor Eric made us sing some Jesus songs and then he read out of the same old book he read out of last time.”

Ah ha!!!  Shopko is actually chapel and that same old book is the Bible.

Mystery solved!!

emergency

I’ve always been jealous of boys.  Camping is so much easier for them simply because of their “equipment”.  I don’t know how many times I’ve peed on my shoes or on my pants.

This last summer my husband taught my youngest the thrill of outdoor peeing.  They were at a park and the restrooms were closed.  After much cajoling he peed on his first tree and has never looked back.

After I caught him “watering” our garden a couple times (hmmm….the tomatoes are especially plump this year), I told him that peeing outside was only for emergencies.

I was remembering back to the first couple weeks of school when I was teaching.  Every year we would have a couple 1st graders relieving themselves at recess.  They were use to peeing outside and had to be taught that the playground wasn’t one big toilet.

My child was not going to be one of those kids.  It is a neat trick, but should only be used in emergency situations.

This is how Luke handled this revelation.

Begging at the back door to be let outside (we don’t need a dog, we’ve got Luke!), the moment he gets outside he announces he has an emergency.  I state that it isn’t an emergency when the bathroom is only a couple steps away.  This just makes him mad and he throws a little tantrum (is that all you got kid?), insisting the whole time that “It’s an EMERGENCY!!”.

I drag him inside and make him pee in the real potty, because , I remind him, I am the meanest Mommy in the world.  This statement just makes him madder.

Luke and his evil mind have come up with a new solution to his need to pee in nature.  When I’m pushing him in the stroller and not a potty in sight, he will have an emergency.  The last emergency happened while we were walking through a beautiful mansion filled street.

Mama didn’t raise no trash - we don’t pee in other people’s yards.

Luckily there was a median full of trees running down the middle of the street.  I got one dirty look from an old lady, but we got away with it in the end.  Nothing like the call of nature while in nature.

sense of humor

Just to let all of you know, my mother-in-law has a wonderful sense of humor.

I called her about my last post.  I got her answering machine so I left her this message.  “Hi Barb, I got your message about me not blogging.  I left you a post on my blog.  Call me after you read it!”

When she called, she said she laughed out loud - I knew she wouldn’t take offense.  So to ease the minds of those of you who worried she would be mad, rest assure - she gets me and I get her.

And she had the last laugh - she said, “Ha!  I got you to blog again!”

under pressure

I have been slammed with life lately and haven’t been writing.  I miss it because it is very therapeutic.

My mom-in-law called me today to inform me that she has just about given up on reading my blog, because I haven’t posted for so long.

All I have to say is, “Get off my back!!!”

Wow, that was therapeutic - I guess I need to start writing again.

emotional over lunch

The last couple days Zach has come home very emotional.  They told me that 1st grade would be exhausting for the first few weeks - I didn’t realize just how true that was.

Our emotional break downs have happened around the subject of lunch.

The first day of school I told Zach that I was going to put a note in his cold lunch, if that was okay with him.  I wanted to make sure a note wouldn’t embarrass him.

Zach’s face fell and he started sobbing.  I back tracked and told him not to worry, I wouldn’t put a note in his lunch.  This made him cry even harder.  When he finally settled down he said, “Mommmm - I can’t read!”

I told him I would only write things that he could read.  I showed him a couple examples and promised I wouldn’t write any words he didn’t know yet.

The next day Zach brought home the hot lunch menu.  He wanted to get hot lunch because he saw that they had french fries for lunch.  I explained that if he took hot lunch, he had to eat everything, not just the french fries.

So we read the next day’s lunch - pizza, salad and apple slices.  Zach burst into tears.  He sobbed that he wanted pizza, but he couldn’t eat the salad.   Luckily we were having pizza for dinner, so I could stick a couple cold pieces in his lunch.

Who knew lunch could be so stressful?!

preschool

Today was Luke’s first day of preschool.  He was very hesitant, but once we were there he was excited.

When I went to kiss him goodbye, I looked up and he was pointing his finger at me like a gun.  *Just for the record, we have tried really hard to not have weapons of mass destruction.  With two boys it has been an uphill battle.*

Mortified, I hissed, “Put that gun away!”

Without batting an eye he put his pretend gun in his pretend holster.

At least he has an imagination - but for goodness sakes - can’t we make some friends before start showing our violent side?!

1st grade

Today Zach entered first grade.  My heart has ached all weekend.  I’ve been an emotional mess just thinking about it.  Every time I saw a back-to-school commercial I would well up (the smell of paste would probably put me over the edge).

What is wrong with me??  Last year when he went off to kindergarten I was thrilled.  Three hours to give Lukey a little one-on-one time (and if I could pawn him off, a little me time).  But six hours seems like such a long day.

I know I’m lucky -  Zach loves school and has an amazing teacher.  I don’t know how parents do it when they have a child with special needs, or a kid who doesn’t want to go to school, or a substandard teacher.  We are truly blessed.

It is just that I can’t control what is going on in his day anymore.  I can’t make a bully leave him alone, find him friends, help him read.  I have to let go a little bit and I don’t feel ready.

I read somewhere that having a child is like wearing your heart on the outside (whoever said this, said it much more poetically).  That is how I’m feeling right now - my heart is aching and I have a lump in my throat.  I want to make everything go great, but I don’t have that power (did I ever??).

When I left him this morning he was so happy - sitting in a group with a bunch of friends from kindergarten.  I know he won’t have any problems.  He’s bright, friendly and eager to please.  I’m the one with the problem.

So I hid my panic, put on a brave face and sent him off into the big wide world-  hoping that some of me rubbed off on him and will keep him safe until he is returned to me at 3:00.

new olympic sport

Zach just had his third set of ear tubes put in a couple days ago.  Things went great, and he could immediately hear better.  The only set back was when we got back from the hospital, Zach barfed all over himself.

Thank god for my mother-in-law’s old steam cleaner.  It’s seen better days, but it still does the job.

While I was cleaning the steam cleaner in the kitchen, I overheard my youngest making Zach belly laugh.  Curious, I went into the other room to see what was so funny.

“Look mama - barf jumping!” Luke yelled as he jumped over the newly cleaned spot.

I’d like to see the Chinese beat us in that!

the great peanut butter debate

My husband and I keep having this crazy argument.  He is a teacher and he is under my feet home for the summer.  I love having him around, but he’s been messing up my morning routine. He gets up with the boys every the morning.  This is wonderful.  He feeds them breakfast.  Still wonderful.  He feeds them toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  Ugh!!! He is taking away one of my lunch options!  Doesn’t he understand that I think these things out?!!   And there are only so many things my little guy will eat for lunch.  But for breakfast he’ll eat anything- he loves everything that has to do with breakfast. I might have mentioned before that my youngest is a picky eater.  The only proteins he’ll touch are bacon, chicken nuggets and peanut butter.  So you can understand my frustration when my husband feeds him toasted PB & J for breakfast. And here is the kicker.  If he happens to be feeding them lunch, he’ll fix peanut butter and jelly again - just not on toasted bread (way to switch it up honey). My husband thinks I’m being crazy (ie. anal), because he makes the sandwiches as nutritional as possible (whole wheat bread, natural peanut butter, organic jam).   I just don’t think it should be served twice a day. I can’t count how many times Steve and I have argued about this. Then when I saw Steve pour himself a bowl of cereal for lunch.  Genius - why do we have to have certain foods at certain times?  If I can’t get Steve to see the error in his ways, maybe I can change the way I do things. So I served pancakes for lunch.  You should have seen Luke’s face.  He thought I was the coolest mom ever.  Thanks honey!

peer pressure

It has already begun. My son is feeling the pressure to fit in.  And he is only six.

But what has surprised me the most is the peer pressure I’ve begun to feel from other mothers. Sometimes I feel like moms see me as over protective, controlling,  not cool.

I don’t think kids need the latest technology. My kids aren’t going to have video games anytime soon- this is already killing my son. He can’t believe I won’t give in. I remind him that I’m the meanest mom in the world and that he’ll thank me someday.  His buddies have video games - he can play at their house.

Right now it is video games. Later it will be cell phones, iPods, beer and sex.  Everyone else has it (or does it). They will be social outcasts if they don’t.  This reasoning just doesn’t fly with me.  I think the pressure to fit in is even stronger for girls. For that reason I am thankful for my boys.

I have a few friends that agree with me - but I’m definitely in the minority.  I thought I left peer pressure behind in high school-geesh.

A news article I recently read talked about a book called “Bringing up Geeks- how to protect you kid’s childhood in a grow-up-too-fast world”.  I immediately ordered it from Amazon.  I’ll let you know if it is any good.

I’ve always said I want my kids to be a little nerdy, just like me.  I don’t want them to be so geeky that their adolescence is painful, but I also don’t want them to be ‘big man on campus’.  A little geekiness keeps you grounded.

Any help out there would be appreciated.

innocence

The past week I’ve watched a little piece of innocence slip away.  It makes my heart ache.

Zach is very good friends with a little boy that is almost a year older.  His parents held him back so he is in the same grade as Zach.  He has an older brother and this makes him very worldly.  My son adores him.

We went to the waterpark the other day with him and another boy.  Zach is just learning to swim and doesn’t have a lot of confidence yet.  The “worldly” boys wanted to go down the huge water slide right away.  They are nice kids and really tried to get Zach to go with them, but he was having none of it.

I watched for an hour as Zach watched the other boys go down the huge slides over and over again.  It broke my heart- I know what it feels like to be scared to try something new.  I know how it hurts to feel left out.

Finally Zach came over and asked if I would go down the slide with him.  I was thrilled that he was going to give it a try.

As we climbed to the top of the slide, I felt his grip tighten on my hand.  I was nervous too, but I kept my voice calm and reassuring.

When he was ready, we slid down together.  His screams of terror soon turned to giggles of joy.  He did it!!  I was so proud of him.

After a few more times he was ready to go with his friends.  They spent the rest of the afternoon going down the slide together.

Zach walked in that afternoon a scared little kid.  He left a proud big boy.  I was excited for him, but a little sad for me.  I know it is cliche, but they really do grow up quickly.

cousins

Our trip to Colorado has been so much fun.  The cousins hadn’t met before (actually they did meet 5 years ago, but Zach was 1 1/2 so they don’t remember) and we weren’t sure how they would get along.  I was pretty confident that they would be instant friends, and I was right.

Henry (7) is a year older than Zach (6) and Ainsley (5) is a year older than Luke (3 1/2), so Rob’s kids took charge and my kids went along for the ride.

Durango has so many fun things to do that the first couple days we were on the go all the time.  But as the trip wore on, the kids have been happy as clams just playing at home.  New toys, new house, lots of adventures.

They live just a couple blocks from downtown and the river, so we did lots of walking around.  On one of these walks, Luke and Ainsley were holding hands.  I asked Luke if he was enjoying his new friend Ainsley.

Lukey looked at me very seriously and said, “She isn’t my friend - she’s my cousin.”

Remembering how much I adored my cousins I knew exactly what he meant.  Maybe a new definition of cousin could be “most beloved friend”.

I’m so glad my kids got this chance to discover their cousins.  It will be a summer they will always remember.

flyin’

*Warning-the following blog contains lots of bodily fluids. Those with sensitive stomachs might want to skip this entry*

We are visiting my brother in Colorado. We took our Bush Bribe and used it to stimulate the economy (you’re welcome. It’s totally working!).

I get motion sick pretty easily riding in a car. Planes don’t usually bug me, but I took some Dramamine just in case. The first leg of our trip was really bumpy coming in for a landing and I actually used the barf bag.

I was mortified. I’ve never gotten sick on a plane before. I’ve also never sat next to anyone who had to use one of those bags. I was sitting next to my husband, so I’m not sure if anyone else noticed what was going on.

My husband assures me that the smell probably gave me away.

This is not the first time that something like this has happened to me.

A couple of years ago just Zach and I flew down to visit my brother and his family. I love visiting them but we are very different. I’m a planner, and Rob is a seize the moment kind of guy. When my kids were young, I was all about schedules. Rob’s kids had to be very flexible - naps were taken in the car on their way to the next adventure.

The day I was flying home, Rob decided to take us hiking before I left (squeeze in every bit of fun possible). We ended up running late to the airport, and I had to run to catch the plane. Let me state for the record that I had plenty of diapers - they were just in my checked bag. You can probably guess what happened next.

On the final leg of our trip, Zach pooped in his last diaper before we took off. I pushed the help button and asked the attendant if she had any diapers. She looked at me in disgust and wondered aloud why I wasn’t better prepared (I was wondering that myself).

I slinked (slunk?) back to the restroom, hoping that he had pellet poop. I figured I could scrape out the poo and reuse the diaper. No such luck - he had some nice squishy poop that had seeped through the diaper.

I had to get creative. I took Zach’s extra clothes and MacGyvered him a diaper. I was pretty proud of myself.

Later the attendant checked back with me and I shared my success story. She was duly impressed. No longer disgusted, she offered me a free glass of wine.

At the end of the flight we had come up with another idea for a make shift diaper. Maxi pads - they have those on airplanes (feel free to use my idea).

This trip was easy with my kids - I was the only one with problems. Thank goodness they didn’t inherit my motion sickness.

On our return trip I’m taking plenty of Dramamine - and maybe some air freshener.