Day Late, Dollar Short on Thanks

I was thankful for things this week. I really was. By being a bit tardy with my thankful decrees doesn't lessen my gratitude....it just makes me a procrastinator, something I'm not unfamiliar with!

I'm grateful that I have parents that can fly from Alabama to Hawaii to Utah to Virginia in one week just to spend time with 3 of their 5 kids and 5 grandsons. They would've gone 5 for 5 if one of their kids wasn't gallivanting around Alaska and the other one didn't have the audacity to be in Iraq!

When they were here I got to take a morning shower in peace, go for a mid-morning run and go on a date with Jay without even thinking of the boys once!!! It gave my brain a chance to re-boot.
Since Drew was born, my Dad has never missed our birthdays. I thought he was crazy when, six years ago, he suggested that Drew should be born on his birthday (and a day after mine). That would mean my baby would come 3 weeks early! I never gave Dad's request a second thought. But, lo and behold, he had his first grandchild on his birthday and my 28th birthday was spent in horrific induced labor! I've never given Dad a present after that. I figure Drew is the gift that keeps on giving!!!

On Forgetting

I've stated from the beginning of my blogging experience that this little online journal is a way of documenting for my boys the experiences in our lives that make us who we are. The things that bind us together, make me rip my hair out, melt my heart or just boggle my mind. It is my way of coping with the mundane, a means to see the humor in disaster, laugh at the absurd, reprimand my soda-loving husband (ha!), and compile some family photos.

It is so my boys will read these accounts and see me not just as their mother but as a person with feelings and faults and hopes and sometimes regrets.

It is also so I won't forget.

I don't want to forget that Kai's plump cheeks have such a satisfying jiggle when he walks or runs. Or that his bottom is so round and squishy and delicious that I sometimes have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from squeezing him too hard. And how he turns my face to his to make sure that I am paying attention to his baby jabbering. And that he isn't satisfied until I've replied to his chatter. I can't forget that he says "no" when what he really means is "yes." Or that he brings me his blanket and says, "Kai" when he wants me to cuddle with him. (I wish, however, I could forget that he flings his food from his high chair like a monkey in a cage.)

I don't want to forget that Owen gives me unprovoked kisses and hugs at the oddest of times. And that I always stop to receive them because his hugs are as important to my soul as air is to my lungs. I want to remember that right now his face is smooth and soft. (Someday it will be rough and gruff with whiskers. Oh, how will I bear it?) I hope he always wants to give me hugs and I hope he always squeezes just as tight. And if he doesn't, I'll still squeeze him just as tight anyway. And I'll always be his "prettiest princess." Even when he takes a wonderful girl to the temple to be married, I'll secretly and quietly still feel like his prettiest princess....even when he's telling his new bride that she has the title.

I don't want to forget that Drew is enduring being the oldest child like a champ. All our mistakes as parents tend to be concentrated in his direction! I don't want to forget that he acts like I'm Barbra Streisand when I sing him "The Star Spangled Banner" at night. I want to remember that what is momentous in the eyes of everyone else just seems like no big deal to Drew. Like Kindergarten....he is completely non-plussed and takes everything in stride. But little things like where we sit at the dinner table are HUGE to him. I don't want to forget that he is cautious and studious and maddeningly literal....and the best traveler around.

While I'm busy not forgetting, the boys are hopefully busy forgetting my multiple mistakes. Like today at Target when I said, "Fine, if you want to go ahead and get hit by a car.....see how much you like it.....and then you can apologize to me for not obeying and holding on to the cart like I asked!"

I said that, I really did.

And I said it loud.

And then I looked at another Mom with two cute little girls that were happily sitting in the cart just as quiet as can be. And that mother looked at me. And I was ashamed.

And I was jealous. (And simultaneously ashamed that I was jealous!) Jealous of her child that was happy to sit in the cart...unlike screaming Kai. And jealous of the other one that wasn't licking the cart handle like Owen just did.

And then I remembered what I just said to my children....the whole getting hit by a car outburst, and I rushed inside with my cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

I hope my boys will forget that.

I hope that Kai will forget that today at a Fall Festival place I looked him squarely in the eye and through my frustration and anger asked him, "Why can't you just be still and quiet and let me enjoy myself for once? Why can't you stop making my life so hard?" And in that moment I really meant it. And all Kai was trying to do was stick his hand up the slimy nose of a hungry calf and poke his finger at the poop chute of a goat. (I hate petting zoos.)

Do you think that maybe the rear end of that goat will be so memorable that Kai won't remember what I said to him?

Ode to Shoes

It isn't a secret, I've shouted it out
I like fancy shoes when I'm out and about.

They dress up an outfit and brighten dull days
They lift up your spirits in so many ways.

They fit when you're pregnant, they fit when you're not.
I like them with colors and animal spots.

I haven't had new ones in too long to count
Shoes are uplifting in any amount!

With moving and babies and renting and cars
Its not in our budget......not important, by far.

But my birthday is coming, so I decided to treat
Myself to some ornaments to cover my feet.

Wedges or peep toes or sneakers or flats
Maybe those boots I should purchase...perhaps.

But what should my wandering eye behold?
3 pairs of boy shoes that are looking quite old.

I look right and look left and look all around
And see 30 piggies right there on the ground.

They're running and skipping and jumping with glee
Not knowing the pleasure they're ripping from me.

Darn them, oh darn them
Oh DARN THEM, I Say!
They've thwarted my plan in the trickiest way.

They have luck on their side
Wouldn't you just know?
They had the audacity to go on and grow!

They grew out of their shoes but my shoes still fit.
So its off to the shoe store, the most dreaded of trips.

It isn't as fun to shop boy shoes for sure.
Its brown, black and navy....to me its a bore.

They got their drab boy shoes and I don't think they know.
How much I was coveting that yellow peep-toe.

Goodbye fancy pumps and black Converse, farewell.
You're replaced by wee small shoes that are destined to smell.

A mother must sacrifice in more ways than one.
But having old peep toes just isn't much fun!

Another Thankful Thursday

I'm thankful for pulled pork. And a husband that is willing to sacrifice his lungs so my freezer can be full of my favorite BBQ.

I'm thankful for this view on my nightly runs.

And this one.

And this tree (blurry in this picture) reminds me that I'm only 2 miles from home.

I'm thankful for this view when I return home. He waits for me every night and acts like he hasn't seen me in days. He peppers me with questions about what I saw on my run. I tell him about the cows and the horses in the pastures. I tell him about the dead deer carcass that makes me run faster. And about the mama deer and her babies that come out of the woods at dusk. And then he begs me to take him on my next run.

It makes me feel special.

And I'm thankful that I had the time to play in Photoshop with some of my pictures.

Sandwich Mom

I've come to realize that a Mom spends a lot of time preparing lunches. During this time I've come up with a theory about how we Moms put together our children's portable meals. I believe there are 3 categories of Sandwich Moms.

A Sandwich Mom refers to the manner in which the female parent of a young offspring goes about preparing and packaging a sandwich to be placed in said offspring's lunch box for his/her consumption at school.

My Mom is the classic example of a Slap-It-Together Sandwich Mom. While I have many fond memories of my childhood, I do not have fond memories of the sandwiches that greeted me when I opened my orange Charlie Brown lunch box.

The smell usually greeted me first. And when the aroma wafted to my nose, I knew......tuna fish would be awaiting me. The brownish colored, stinky tuna fish would be slapped haphazardly between two pieces of crooked, soggy, tired pieces of bread.

And the way the sandwich is packaged is part of the Slap-It-Together Sandwich Mom's profile. My olfactory offending meal would barely be enclosed in a flimsy piece of plastic wrap. One corner would generally be exposed, causing that section of bread to be stale and the tuna fish to form an outer crust.

While my Mom has many amazing qualities and no doubt loves her children dearly, her love did not shine brightly through her sandwiches.

Next we have the Show-Me-the-Love Sandwich Mom. This Mom lovingly, painstakingly, and carefully assembles the sandwich. She has been known to cut off the crusts and on many occasions cut the sandwich into hearts or festive holiday shapes as the season dictates. The sandwich is then placed into a Ziploc bag with any excess air squeezed out to ensure perfect freshness and wonderful palatability.

I've always wanted to be that kind of Sandwich Mom. But I just can't bring myself to cut off the crusts! Which brings me to the third and final variety of Sandwich Mom. The kind that I was born to become...

The Standard-Sandwich Mom. This is what I am. I like to put Drew's sandwich together with care and I am careful to use the appropriate ratio of peanut butter to jam. I cut it into two triangles to make it easier for him to eat. And then I place it into the Ziploc bag, making sure it is sealed so the sandwich won't go stale. I do not squeeze out the excess air and I most certainly DO NOT cut off his crusts........

Until last night.

I stared at the sandwich for a while before I brought the knife blade down to sever the crispy brown edges from the soft white bread. It went against everything in my very being to cut those crusts off. I was going against the grain! (Pun perfectly intended.)

Jay knew that the universe was turning upside down and looked outside to see if pigs were flying.

"Why are you cutting off the crusts of that sandwich?" he asked.

"I have no choice," I replied. "There was a little bit of white mold on the edge of one crust."

Am I bad?

At least I cut it off.

And thus concludes my essay on sandwiches. I either have too much time on my hands or I'm ignoring the growing mounds of laundry that need putting away. I confess, it is the latter.

Club Meeting

The boys have been continuing their "Hooligans Anonymous" meetings with a wide range of activities and club rituals. The meetings generally start out with complete silence that indicates a plan is in the works. The silence is followed by a faint rustling that can vaguely be heard from another room. Directly after the rustling, there generally comes a BANG or a CRASH. Then there will be muffled giggling or painful screaming...depending on the success of the activity. (There could also be a cop at the door, as was the case after Kai's club initiation.)

Following the crash are frantic footsteps and loud shouts of, "WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU BOYS DOING?"

Occasionally the club meetings come out of the shadows and into the light of day where I can participate and record the minutes. I like those meetings much better than the secret ones that plot the downfall of my patience, cleanliness of our home or safety of its members.

Yesterday, the club took advantage of the warm Indian Summer day and decided to do some team building exercises.
They soon tired of all that teamwork when they discovered that one member was getting all the perks with none of the work.



So they abandoned him.


To win back favor with the ranking club members, Kai reminded them that he "accidentally" fell on an unopened bag of tortilla chips that was waiting to be put away after our trip to the store.

In light of this new information, it was voted on unanimously to re-instate Kai in good standing to the club. They had to do a special ceremony to make it official.

I can't claim to always know what is going on in their complex little brains. Sometimes the choices they make, or don't make, baffle me to no end and make me want to scream, "Hello!!! It isn't rocket science....just do what I say and your life will be great!"

And then I look into the future and see them making difficult choices that could drastically alter their course in life, and I'm glad that, for the time being, I'm only dealing with their "choice" to not make their bed or whether or not to eat that piece of candy they found on the floor of the grocery store. (Well, with the whole swine flu pandemic being a national state of emergency and all, that piece of candy on the floor seems a whole lot more ominous.)

I'm glad they have each other. I'm not always going to be as "cool" as I am now....at least in their eyes. When they can't come to me they've got a brother or two from the Hooligan's Anonymous Club that would surely give good advice when the weight of a decision seems too heavy to carry on their own.

Try as I might to disband this club, or at least be included in all disaster-making decisions, I secretly don't want it to stop. They need each other. And when it seems like it is them against the world they won't feel lonely. They'll always have a brother....or two.

Thankful "Thursday"

I had to forgo my Thankful Thursday post because I was busy cuddling on the couch with Jay, boxes of Hot Tamales, NERDS, Reese's Pieces and Milk Duds. We watched "Transformers" completely uninterrupted without having to ration out the sweets to children that act like they haven't seen a granule of sugar in 10 years. As if! It was much nicer to cozy up to my husband than to my computer so I have no regrets about abandoning my blog!

So, I'm thankful that I made the choice to spend time with the most important person in my life rather than the most important electronic in my life.

I'm thankful for my sister. She's the best Auntie my 3 hooligans could ever ask for.




But let me just take a break from all this thankful stuff and say that I H-A-T-E making yeast rolls. I've tried crescent rolls, sweet rolls, pizza rolls and dinner rolls in one week. I've wasted no less than 20 cups of flour, several packets of yeast, and half a dozen eggs. I loathe the stickiness and the fact that the recipe says "add 4-5 extra cups of flour until the dough is no longer sticky." I add 4-5 and then another 6-7 more cups! And it is still sticky! Almost every surface in my kitchen and my can of Pam is crusted in dried up dough.

I need an intervention! I just can't stop making yeast rolls until I get it right! But I'm driving myself mad. HELP..............

So that brings me to my last thankful thought. I'm really thankful for frozen dinner rolls.

Tooth Trouble

In our house, the tooth fairy has "issues." She has such a global reputation to uphold that she is prone to bouts of fatigue; what with all that flitting around dispensing money and hauling her enormous stash of teeth. So when a tooth is ready to be placed under a child's pillow in our house, she figures that we're nice enough folks and won't go on a global smear campaign if she falters in her fairy duties.

Drew's first and second tooth loss events were disasters and, to make myself feel better, I chalked it up to inexperience and nerves. I wrote those episodes off as the opening act for the big show, and no one pays the money to see the opening act. So I rehearsed and refined and vowed to do better. No missing teeth! No replacement shark's tooth! No empty tooth fairy wallet! No note of explanation next time!

Thursday, Drew bolted off the bus with his newly extracted tooth tucked securely in his backpack. I placed it in a baggie and put it on the counter with some other items that were clearly not trash. Apparently, the tooth wizard thought differently. (Jay resents the use of the word "fairy" when describing a task he must complete. Therefore, to comply with his impassioned plea and in an effort not to injure his masculinity, I have dubbed him "The Tooth Wizard.")

Later that evening I returned home from flitting around Target and DSW (in search of some fairy shoes) to find Drew's tooth was M.I.A. WHAT? NOT AGAIN! I put it in a baggie to keep it safe!! I wasn't aware that I need a safe to protect little lost teeth. In desperation, The Tooth Wizard was commanded to dig through the trash (because fairies draw the line at dumpster diving).

The tooth was not recovered.

So the next night another note of explanation was written and another shark's tooth was placed under Drew's pillow. He figured that the tooth fairy was good for either $5 or $25. After all, he had to wait an extra night because of his parent's blunder. Owen figured that the tooth fairy ought to bring him a dump truck for good measure. But the tooth wizard only had a buck in his pocket...and no dump truck.

I'm facing the music. We're not so good at the tooth fairy and tooth wizard business. But we've got Santa and Mrs. Claus down pat!

Thankful Thursday

Drew's top tooth has been hanging by a thread for weeks. It gives me the creeps. Today was the day that drastic measures were going to be taken. Auntie arrived and we decided that she could tie the tooth to a door and yank it out. I'm pretty sure that that rarely works but she was gung-ho anyway. But...

I'm thankful that Drew's tooth FINALLY came out. And it came out on the bus with a little help from his seatmate....who apparently isn't creeped out by a dangling tooth. I'm grateful that this time Drew didn't lose the little dentin nugget to the black hole that is the sink drain or swallow it down his gullet.

I'm thankful that my sister is here....and she brought goodies. Really good goodies. For me and the boys. (pictures tomorrow. today we had no sun. And no sun means no pictures. Unless I buy lots of fancy lamps.)

I'm also thankful for homemade pizza, smoothies and apple crisps. And Kai is thankful for those things, too.....as is evidenced by this picture.

It's the Little Things

Often times in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, I forget that little things matter. Little moments. My days are made up of a series of little moments that often go unnoticed, unacknowledged or passed over because I'm too frustrated with life's nitty-gritty "have-to-do's". I'm kind of tired of the have-to-do's, so I'll focus on the lesser known "little things that matter."

For example, today when Drew was at school and Owen at preschool, Kai and I went to Target. As we walked hand-in-hand into the store I glanced down at my little boy dressed smartly in his navy blue pea coat and noticed that he was sauntering. He had a full on swagger! A gait that said, "Look at me! I'm out-and-about with my lady and I'm a big boy and I want everyone to know it!" He was proud to be walking instead of carried and his face was shining as brightly as the autumn sun above.

It sure wasn't a big thing. But I'm learning to realize it's the little things that matter. And that moment mattered. So it goes on my list of very important little things.

And tonight after I sang "I Am A Child of God" for the 4,249th time, I had a request from Owen that I stay in his bed "for a tiny bit." After a few moments of silence I asked him to tell me something happy. I expected that he would speak of his Lego's or bike or the cake ball that he had for his tasty treat. (Oh, yes. I made cake balls. They were divine.)

Instead of those very predictable answers he came up with something that I've added to my list of "very important little things." Upon putting his hand on my heart he said, "I love your heart."

Couldn't you just melt?

After another moment of silence his hand moved a little bit to the south and he added this: He said, "And I love your squishy things."

That won't be making the list.

(Owen looking crazed.)