But my youngest has found a way to fight back.  Fingernails and words.

When Luke gets mad he turns into the tazmanian devil.  In a blind fury he will start using his nails to claw any piece of flesh not covered with cloth.  Twice Zach has walked away with deep scratch marks down his face.

I’ve solved the scratching issue by keeping his nails short and threatening to take away TV and Wii.  This has worked.

The using words to wound has been more of a problem.   For a 5 year old,  he is very skilled at coming up with just the right words to cut Zach down to the quick.  He’ll tell Zach that he is the worst brother in the world or that he doesn’t want to be his friend anymore.

But his latest jab really got to Zach.  Zach came to me sobbing about Luke’s latest attack.

“Luke said he hoped that the devil would adopt me!!”

Wow!  I could hardly keep a straight face.  You have to give the kid credit for originality.

And if I were you, I wouldn’t cross him.

 ”J…A…N…E”

He looked up from his paper and stated, “That’s not how you spell your name.  That spells Janie.”

“No,” I argued.  “That’s how you spell my name.”

“No,” he insisted, “With the “e” on the end it says Janie.”

I finally understand what he is saying. 

 ”The “e” in my name is silent.”

“Ohhhh,” I see that little lightbulb go on above his head.  “So if it is a loud “e”, then it spells Janie?”

Who can argue with that logic?

But by the end of the week he had found his true passion - fishing.  He spent hours on the dock catching fish after fish.

With everyone else out on the boat enjoying the above mentioned recreation, it was up to me to help Luke with his fishing.

I had to get over my queasiness of the whole sport and help Luke put the worm on the hook, and then take the fish off the hook and throw it back in to be caught all over again (I swear I kept seeing the same poor sunfish over and over again).

My brother had bought Luke 10 night crawlers.  I just figured these were like the normal worms we use to play with as kids.  Nope - these are super long, super tough, super active, mighty worms.

Well they met their match with me - super cheap.  Because Luke was having so much fun catching fish after fish I wanted to make these 10 worms last.   So I started cutting these worms in half.  Like I said before, these suckers were tough.  They would squirm and try to wiggle out of my hands when I was trying to half them.  When I would finally get them halved they would bleed.

Holy crab!  The worms of my childhood never bled, and we were always pulling them in half because there was a rumor going around that they would turn into two worms if you cut them in half (turns out there is real science behind that claim).

Now how many moms would spend the afternoon on a dock with their kid, pulling squirmy fish off the hook and putting bloody super worms back on?  Not many my friend - I look forward to Luke reading this someday and realizing what an awesome mom he had.

By the end of the week everyone was calling Luke the Bass Master.  Turns out he really did have a knack for the sport.  All the other kids tried their hand at fishing, and none of the others had his success.

Maybe it was the Scooby Doo fishing pole.  Maybe it was the way Luke just dropped the line into the water instead of casting it.  I like to think I had a little something to do with it.

Probably it was those damn bloody night crawlers.  I’m surprised he didn’t catch a shark with all the blood we were making.   But even if he did, I would have helped him get it off the hook - because that is the kind of mom I am, not that I’m fishing for a compliment.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.