7 AM Theology

I was standing at the kitchen counter pouring cereal into my kids' bowls and congratulating myself on my excellent display of coordination at Too:Early o'clock. Coffee was a wish yet to be granted and I was caught in that hateful place between sleep and awake. My body was vertical and propped against the counter, but my mind kept insisting I go curl up in my nice warm bed. It began.

Connor - "Mom, did you know that God gives us the strength to love our enemies?"

I blinked at him. "Uh-huh."

Benen - "Mom, why would God want us to love our enemies? They're bad."

Me - "Uh, 'cause the Bible tells us to."

Benen - "Hm. Mom, what will happen if we don't do what God tells us in the Bible?"

Me - "You will make God very sad."

Benen thinks for a minute. - "Yeah, but what will God DO to us?"

Me (hedging)- "Uhhh...... he'll be very disappointed and sad."

Benen - "Mom, will he damn us?"

Me (eyes pop open) - "What? What did you say?"

Benen - "I saaaa-iiid, will he damn us?"

Oh. My. You try explaining heaven and eternity to your son before 8:00 a.m. Without the help of caffeine.

I managed to get it out of him where he had heard the phrase. I explained that we don't use that word in our house and then went on to tell him about salvation. Kind of. It was a very simplified version because, well, he's four. And I hadn't had my first cup of coffee and not all my synapses were firing yet.

Mind of a 4 Year Old

"Look! I can pop out my tummy like Grandpa Sturge!"

These were the words that poured out of our four-year-old's mouth one evening. I had to get my camera and take a picture. It's a pretty good likeness.

**Benen: "Know who keeps me safe in jail? God." People, what am I supposed to say to that?

**Benen: "I still love ya mom. Even when you give me trouble." Yes, well.

**Benen (speaking to his auntie): "You know, October 16 is a long ways away." Someone's a little jealous of his brothers' February birthdays.

**Benen: "You ever have snow fall on you?"

This kid is truly, down-to-the-core hysterical. I'm talking FUN-NY. In a single day he can bring me tears of frustration, tears of joy and tears of laughter. Several times over. Seriously, the things that pop out of his mouth are just too much.

He's also too charming by half. This causes serious problems. He flashes those big eyes at me, says he loves me and suddenly I go from nearly tearing my hair out to wanting to lay the world at his feet. One Sunday school worker put it nicely. "You know he's gonna get through life by using those eyes."

Huh. You don't say.

Here's a prime example. We were at music lessons Monday morning and Benen was having a hard time sitting still. More specifically, he was climbing on my back. Over and over. He had exhausted his "three warnings" many times over. I had warned that there would be no candy from Grandpa's work (which happens to be across the parking lot) after lessons if he didn't sit still. He would look at me in all sincerity and say, "Okay, mom. I'll sit still. I promise."

And that would last for about one minute.

By the end of the hour, after trying to help my two kids while keeping up with all the other mother's with only one child, I was understandably frustrated and tired. I piled the boys in the van and drove the fifteen feet to a closer parking space. Yes, I really did.

We went into my dad's shop and the boys did their usual run down of their lesson, telling Grandpa what they had learned. Okay, Connor told Grandpa what he learned while Benen repeatedly chirped, "can I have candy now?"

Still tightly wound after an hour of slow torture ... er, music lessons, and after the third time he begged for candy, I ground out, "I'm still not sure you're getting any candy. I haven't decided if you deserve it."

My dad looked at me, puzzled. "He wasn't listening during music lessons," I explained.

He looked at Benen. "Were you doing some bad things?"

Benen thought for a minute. "Um, yes."

"Oh. That's not good. Maybe you shouldn't get any candy if you weren't listening."

Benen got all serious, thought for another minute, then turned to look up at me with the most adorably confused and questioning pair of eyes. And I was helpless. "You can only have one piece of candy." As opposed to the two he usually has.

Yeah, I know, not my most stellar parenting moment. But really, if you had been there, you wouldn't have been able to say "no" either.

Happy Birthday!

The Big 2 Year Old

Happy Birthday, Kolten!

Who's There?

The doorbell rang at 9:28 yesterday morning. WHAT?!

This does not happen. Should, in fact, never happen. I do NOT do surprise house calls. People dropping in without phoning will not receive the most sincere of welcomes. Oh, I might put on a smiley face, chat and seem all pleasant, but deep down I'm squirming.

Why, you ask? Because these kind of surprises inevitably happen when I'm unprepared. Morning, noon and night, they will always find me in my pajamas and housecoat, hair like Medusa, face blotchy from lack of make-up and breathing potent coffee breath. My house will be a disaster, every available surface covered with discarded clothes and pajamas.

NOTE: Boys do not just take off their clothes. They rip them off, swing them around by a sleeve or leg and, once they have acquired enough speed, release them into "infinity and beyond." I know. I'm still looking for the matches to seven pairs of socks.

So now you understand the panic that hit when I heard the doorbell ring - without warning - while I was in a less-than-desireable state. Should I answer it? Ignore it? Sneak a peek out the window? Hide under the bed?

In a rare show of courage, I decided to brave the mockery and humiliation to self and extend some hospitality. I came down the stairs to discover my front door was open and I was looking through the glass of the screen door.

Imagine my shock at seeing my four-year-old standing on the other side of the glass, peering up at me.

In his winter boots, in the snow.

With no coat.

In -20 degrees.

Randomness

Quotable Quotes by Connor

"Dad, you gotta start livin' it and stop sweatin' it." No idea where this came from.

"Mom, this will freak your brains out." Talking about a plastic toy bug.

"Mom, you feel like stuffing." Ouch! Weight Watchers - where do I sign up?

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Guy Stuff

This video had my husband doubled over in laughter. He watched it five times in a row before he made me sit down and view it. Still he laughed.

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Just Give it To Me

I'm sure some of you have already seen this music video by Jason Mraz. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this song. It totally sucks that he doesn't have it recorded on any of his albums! Come ON! What's he trying to do? It feels a little like musical foreplay. Like he's just toying with us. Just give it to me already! I want this song on my iTunes, on my iPod! He's already made it a hit on YouTube. Check it out, if you haven't already. Oh, and somebody pointed out that he's playing with some kind of sling or cast on one arm. Amazing!

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The Way to His Heart

I have found the way to my son's heart. Not so surprisingly, it isn't in the pizza I slave over or the owies I kiss better. Nope. It's much simpler, more basic than that. Here's how the conversation went.

"Hey, bud. How was your day at school?"

"Pretty good. Well, this one thing happened."

"Oh? What?"

"Well, two of my friends started fighting with the older kids on the hill. I decided to just go find other friends to play with because I knew it was wrong."

Insert proud mommy moment here.

"That's good. You can still be their friend, but I'm glad you walked away."

"Yeah. Hey, you know my friend, Josh, can make fake farting sounds. Like, it sounds like he farts, but it's not real."

Switching tracks. "Oh, how does he do that?"

"I'm not really sure. Just kinda like ..." and he tries to make a fart sound with his mouth and throat.

"Hmmm. Like this?" And I show him my special abilities.

"Wow!" His eyes go saucer round and fill with hero worship. Suddenly I'm cool and I'm Super Mom "How'd you DO that?"

So, I showed him. And became #1 Mom in his eyes. To think it was so simple all along.

I Hate This

They said it would get easier.

They said I would get used to it.

They said I would love it.

They said it's great.

They are SO wrong!

I hate school. Every day Connor walks out the door I feel like a huge hand reaches into my chest and squeezes until all the breath has left my body. I watch from my living room window, feeling like the worst mom for making him walk all the way to school. A block and a half. Through all the snow. Up hill both ways.

My stomach does sommersaults and crunches until 3:15 when I again glue myself to the window and count every step until he is safely inside the house. Yes, I can see him from my window. Yes, I stand there and watch him walk the whole way home. And yes, I have gotten out my hubby's binoculars and watched him like the crazy person I am. Holding my breath while I scan the streets for any suspicious looking vehicles.

So far I haven't been reported and no police have shown up on my doorstep questioning me about my behavior and my whereabouts the day before.

I was told it would get easier, but that doesn't seem to be happening. Instead I am having horrible nightmares of next fall when I will have to endure this EVERY DAY! With Benen tagging along every second day. Oy!

Hang on. There's a suspicious looking man walking by outside. Yes, he's walking a dog, but that could be his cover. He's stopping to stare at the house two doors down. Hmmm. His face is covered and I can't get a good look. Disguise? Or the fact it's below zero with a wind chill that would freeze your eyes in their sockets?

He's moving on .... passing my window .... don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact .... he's gone. For now.

Hey, I read a lot of suspense/mystery. I know what can happen.

Oooh, I think I need some Tums. And I'm gonna put the local PD on my speed dial. You can never be too prepared.

BTW, be on the lookout for a man walking a tiny tan-and-white pomeranian. Tallish, thin, wearing jeans and a winter coat, face mostly covered and wearing brown leather work gloves. I'm just saying, is all.

The Strangest Thing

I saw the weirdest thing today at the doctor's office. No, not some freaky person with three eyes or a nasty, flaky disease. Nope. This was a little girl going out of control.

This, in itself, isn't that unusual. I'm pretty much used to seeing kids be out of control, whining, screaming, yelling and hitting their parents. Sadly, I see more parents who don't parent, than ones who do. Respect is something young kids aren't being taught and it shows in the way they act out with complete disregard to those around them. Can you tell this is a pet peeve of mine?

Anyways, this little girl couldn't have been more than two-and-a-half. The mother had zero control over her child and the little girl proceeded to wander all over the waiting room. Again, not something particularly surprising. What did surprise me was when the girl - we'll call her Susie - disappeared through the doorway into the area that housed the nurses station, offices and patient rooms. Gone. I mean, you could not see her at all. And the mother just sat there. Did. Nothing.

I kept thinking, the nurses don't get paid to babysit, and wondered how long until the mother decided to fetch sweet Susie. Catch the sarcasm?

Finally, she got up and went in search of her daughter. Moments later she comes out the doorway ushering a loudly complaining and whining little girl. You could tell she didn't dare pick her up. Well, Susie would not stand for this obstacle in her way. She let out a shrieking whine. "Don puss me!" And the mother backed off.

At one point, the little girl dug through her mother's purse, lifted a twenty dollar bill and took off. The mother tried coaxing and begging the little girl to come back and bring the money, but darling daughter would not behave. Secretly, I was hoping she'd bestow that twenty on me.

No luck. I think the mother was nearing her limit. She got up, retrieved Susie, replaced the bill and proceeded to try and hold a thrashing, whining, arching Susie on her lap. Got to teach her a lesson, you know?

Up to this point I was annoyed, but not shocked. Just your basic kids-run-the-home-and-parents situation. But here's what made my jaw drop.

There was a young, pleasantly quiet boy of about nine years who, I thought, had the misfortune of being sweet Susie's big brother. Turns out he stirs the pot. While his mother was trying to hold the thrashing Susie her son jumps into the argument.

"Mom, just let her down."

"No. I need her to learn that she can't always get her way."

"Oh, just put her down. I'll watch her."

Yeah, my jaw hit the floor. An older brother volunteering to watch and trail after his spoiled sister as she wreaks havoc on the waiting room and its innocent masses?!

AND THE MOTHER LISTENED! She obeyed the command of her young son to stop disciplining Susie and let her have her way. Wow! I don't think I have ever come across a situation where the older sibling, particularly a brother, spoils his younger siblings in quite this manner. Shocking, is what it was.

And he followed through. He got up to fetch Susie when she wandered from the room to the elevators. Huh. I thought I had seen it all, but this was something entirely new to me.

Makes me shudder to think what she'll be like when she's a teenager.

And yes, I know this isn't a very nice post. But that's what you get when I don't get my sleep. Sarcasm and snarkiness.

Big Moments

So there you have it. A big day in the life of a kid. He lost his first tooth yesterday. His Grandpa yanked it out for him after mom and dad's many failed attempts.

I realized something last night. I make a lousy Tooth Fairy. I forgot to put the money under his pillow and he woke up sobbing at 2:30 a.m. I sat up in bed, looked at the clock and went, "Oh NO! Chad wake up!"

Like the bad fairy I am, I made him get up and settle Connor down. Once he was back to sleep, I gave Chad the money to slip under his pillow.

The good thing was he didn't realize I had forgotten. He woke up because his eye was sore (no idea why) and he never thought to peek. So this morning when he finally did look, there was a nice, shiny coin lying in wait. He came bounding into my bedroom, excited and thanking me and saying how wonderful I was.

Being the honest, good person that I am, I looked at him and said, "Thank you." Hey, I'll take what I can get.

Pictures

Okay, I know that's a very uninspired title, but it's the best I can come up with after a week of little sleep and sick kids. I've been wanting to post some pictures of what it looks like where I live, but when I tried to take a few, they didn't turn out. Thankfully, my Grandma's husband is a fabulous photographer (at least I think so) and he gave me permission to use some of his work on my blog. This is for you, Deb.

Photography by Ron Mack

This is the street my parents live on. The white on the trees is hoar frost.

These are the trees in front of my mom and dad's house

You can see how thick the hoar frost is. Although I find this one of the most beautiful things about winter, the frost on the power lines is responsible for the many power outages and surges that wrecked our computer.

I think this pictures is awesome

Benen, Me and Connor

My mom and my niece, Senaye

Grandma and her girls, Senaye and Kadeja

Crazy Conversations

** A conversation with Benen during supper.

Benen: Mom, you and I are kinda the same.
Me: How's that?
Benen: Well, your skin is kinda peach and look, my skin is peach.
Me: You're right. We are the same.
Chad: Benen, what color is my skin?
Benen: Well .... it's .... it's mostly just hairy.
Chad (trying not to laugh): Oh. I guess it is.

Benen: See this? (Holds up his arm and squints with one eye) I've got some little hairs, too.

Chad (looking closely): Yup.
Benen: Dad, when I grow up, I'm gonna be big and hairy like you.


** A conversation with Chad while watching a movie.

Me: Oh, you have the subtitles on. Good idea.
Chad: That's me. Smartest guy in the world.
Me: You are. You married me.
Chad (slight hesitation): Really not that smart.

Chad claims he wasn't referring to my last comment when he said that, but I'm not letting him live it down.

Kids are mischievous. They somehow manage to hone in on the stuff that's "off-limits." They look for those golden opportunities when your back is turned, you use the bathroom or you blink both eyes. In a nanosecond, they will have the cupboard doors open, the toilet paper pulled off the roll, the toothpaste squeezed out of the tube and all the DVDs scattered across the basement floor. Or they'll do this.

Yeah, those are mine. Heaven forbid I take a shower and get dressed. Kolten decided to climb on the bathroom stool and play with mommy's glasses. Thank God for warranties and the nice people at The Eyewear Place.

P.S. I still have three children.

Another Random Post

I was gently reminded that it's been a week since I sat down to blog. I can't believe the time has passed so quickly. Over the holidays I had all these things I wanted to share, but no time to visit my computer. My e-mail sat neglected for days at a time, something almost unheard of for me. And since I can't remember all the funny things that happened over Christmas and New Year's, I'm just gonna post what comes to mind. In other words, random.


* I unwrapped a present to find my ticket to Paradise. A cappuccino/espresso maker. And I also got a Bodum, which makes French Press coffee. Now, I have one whole length of my countertop filled with coffee paraphernalia. And those people who love me lots and know me well, also gave me books and pajamas! This is my kind of heaven!


* Our household seems to have an ongoing battle with an army of little viral invaders. We've been battling the flu off and on for about three weeks. I felt we had paid our dues and could remove the quarantine flag from our front yard when my oldest son crawled into bed with us at 4:15 a.m. I had climbed in around 2:30 and was just getting into a good REM cycle when his hot little feet scorched the hair off my legs. Yowsah, I thought, he must have been buried under mountains of blankets. He's a regular furnace most of the time, but a touch of my lips to his forehead confirmed that he was burning with fever.

I felt alarm course through me and I sat up to check him over. Hot face, hot head, hot arms and hands, hot tummy, and burning little feet. I don't worry much when he gets a fever because he's always been prone to them. In fact - and I do not lie or exaggerate - he has run fevers as high as 106.3 without convulsions. He does, however, sometimes hallucinate. This was not the case last night but I figured he was ranging around 103 - 104. I got up to give him some Tylenol and ushered him back to bed with strict instructions to come get me if he thought he was going to be sick.

Two minutes later he's in our room complaining of a stomach ache and feeling like he's gonna puke. I sat him by the toilet while I made up a bed on the floor. I got him nicely settled and spent the next hour tense and on edge, listening for that tell-tale gagging, whimpery sound that precedes the vomiting.

And I prayed. Well, 'prayed' sounds a little mild. I ranted and argued and pleaded with God to heal my son. I wasn't very eloquent. It went something like this:

"God, heal my son. This is so not fair! He's already had the flu. He shouldn't have to get sick again! Take all those yucky germs and blast them out of his body and out of this house! Heal him. Don't let him puke. I really, really don't want to have to do a mountain of laundry. And he's hurting. And it's not fair. So, please heal him....of course, Your will and all that. *sigh* Amen."

I managed to nod off sometime after 5:00.

I was ripped from my blissful slumber by an earth shattering scream. My heart jumped and I managed to pry open my eyes. There was a little body standing beside my bed.

"Mom, Connor's hurt. Can I have cereal?"

Well, duh, I thought, of course someone's hurt. At least that's what I had assumed the screaming was all about. The pounding of little feet rushing up the stairs and down the hall pulled me into a half sitting position. Connor ran into my room with tears coursing down his cheeks and muffled screams coming from behind his hands.

"What happened?"

"mshlybymyounne," he sobbed.

Huh. "What?"

"My young."

Okay. "Move your hands and let me see." I gently pulled his hands from his face. That's when I realized blood was running down his chin, hands and arms and was dripping off his elbows.

I flew out of bed, rushed him to the bathroom and made him rinse, swish, spit, rinse, swish, spit until most of the bleeding stopped. I am thankful I'm not a breakfast eater. Those Wheaties - oh who am I kidding? - that chocolate cake would have made a swift reappearance. As it was, my stomach twisted, turned and flopped, but I managed to soothe and clean him.

He had bitten right through his tongue in the same place he had bitten through it last week. He slipped while running up the stairs and hit his chin on the way down. Only now, both sides of his tongue have teeth marks.

Sidenote: All through high school I wanted to be a nurse. I had planned on going to university and becoming an RN. Then, I job shadowed for a day and learned I don't have the stomach for it. I can't handle the blood, spit, sweat, smells, sights and 'other' that go with the profession. So instead I became a mother. HA! Now I get all that and more...without the paycheck.


* Things that have made me smile:
Benen during supper - "Mom, this is deeeee-licious. Much better than yesterday."
Connor - "Mom, you're a princess."


* Yesterday I watched Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason. I LOVE the Bridget Jones movies. They're great. A little raunchy in some places, but still so hilarious. How can you not love the part where Mark Darcy (played by the incredible Colin Firth) says, "I like you, just the way you are." *sigh* Or the part in Edge of Reason where Bridget is getting dressed and she has the sheet draped over her for modesty.

Mark Darcy: What on Earth are you doing?
Bridget Jones: Getting dressed.
Mark Darcy: Why're you dancing around in that tent business?
Bridget Jones: Because I don't want you to see any of my wobbly bits.
Mark Darcy: Well now that's a bit pointless isn't it. As I happen to have a very high regard for your wobbly bits. In all circumstances.

I love that part. Makes me laugh every time. So. Funny!

The Things We Do

I just poked my husband's shoulder. "Do you think I'm crazy?" Dangerous question.

His response was a less than intelligent, "hrmphs."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Hmm? Um-um."

"Would you think I'm crazy if I told you I just put a pizza in the oven?"

"Whah? Yes."

That's right. It's midnight and I just popped a pizza in the oven.

I was busy making my son's lunch when I had, what I like to call, a Good Mom Moment.

My boys have a food sensitivity to gluten which means my kindergartner can't take sandwiches like other kids his age. Usually I fill his lunch with some type of meat (tuna, chicken) and cheese and crackers along with other goodies.

For some reason I was struck with that sense of motherly awe. You know, the one that makes you well up with emotion and think, I would do anything for this child of mine. I would give my life for him. And since there's no impending doom to rescue him from, I did the next best thing. I made him pizza. At midnight.

No, I did not make my own crust. You can buy these gluten-free ones from the local health food store for an exorbitant price. I had one sitting in my freezer. I may be crazy, but I'm not that crazy.

So now I'm feeling warm and fuzzy and like a pretty darned good mother, if I do say so myself.

Hang on - Whew! Got busy typing and nearly burnt the pizza.

So now I'll be up until 1:00 a.m. waiting for it to cool. But that's okay. His smile will be worth the lost hours of sleep.

Regret

The tears are just under the surface. I'm regretting yesterday's purge and fighting the urge to rush downstairs, dive into the piles and clutch the books to my breast. I'm trying to assure myself it was a good decision, a necessary evil. I'm not convinced. There's this tightness around my chest and it feels like a vice has squeezed all the breath from my body.

I can't think about this.

Moving on. Some of the sweetest words I hear all day are, "Mom, I love you a million, billion, billion, million, trillion, willion, gazillion, tillion, billion, million, billion, a lot."

Also, my son used this one. "Mom, I'll make all your wishes come true." Little does he know that he and his brothers surpassed all my dreams long ago.

My husband rented the Spiderman Wii game on Tuesday. The kids have been in Little Boy Heaven for the past two days. He also brought home a movie about the Justice League. It goes without saying that my house has been filled with the sounds of battle, good vs. evil, for the past couple of days. Not that that's any different from a regular day. I just get it in stereo now, blasting through the floor and filling the whole house. Yipee!

And now I have to go set up the Wii. After all, little boys' patience is only so big.

Random

Okay, here's the thing. I've been trying to find time to blog, but this week has been a write off. I finally decided to sit my butt down in a chair with my laptop and type until something came to mind. I really should be cleaning my house (we have company coming tonight) but I've been putting it off. No surprise there. So, instead of a well, or semi-well, thought out post, you're getting the crazy thoughts that pop into my head. Let's see.....

*Yesterday, my husband came home from work at 8:00 a.m. just to start my van for me. Isn't that sweet? He knew I was busy trying to get all three kids out the door, so he drove all the way across town to warm up my vehicle. And he stopped by Tim Hortons on the way and brought me a coffee and breakfast sandwich. I have never felt so loved.

*I'm leading some carol singing at our church banquet tonight. I haven't sung in a month and I'm woefully out of practice. Simon Cowell would laugh me off the stage. Oh, wait. He doesn't laugh.

*Connor's important questions:
Mom, what's Santa's other name?
Mom, do you feel like you're losing your mind?
Mom, how do you know everything?

*My son is special. I know every parent says that, but I can say it with a certain assurance that he is one-of-a-kind. I'm sure the teacher has never before seen anyone like him. He's intense. When he focuses on something, it's 100%. And he's obsessed with superheroes. Obsessed. He actually brought home an empty Kleenex box from school the other day because it had a picture of Venom on it. I can only imagine the conversation that took place:

"Teacher, that Kleenex box has venom on it!"
"Yes, Connor, I know."
"Wow." A pause. "I wish I had a box like that."
"It's just a Kleenex box."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"We're going to use the Kleenexes."
"Yeah, but what about when all the Kleenexes are gone?"
"I'm going to put it in the recycle bin."
"What's 'recycle' mean."

"It's where you put all your cardboard and plastic containers into a box so they can be taken to a place where they're made into new things. It helps save the environment."

"Oh. Well, I could use that box."
"But I need the Kleenexes."
"I mean after they're gone. I could take that box home and use it."
"Connor, I don't think you need-"
"But it's cool. It has Venom on it."
"I know, but I don't think your mom-"
"She won't mind. She knows I like superheroes."
A puzzled expression. A sigh. "Oh, alright."

*The thing that makes me feel most child-like is my love of candy rockets. Those yummy, circular candies that come packaged in rows and wrapped in plastic. They come out in mass quantities around Halloween. I'm hopelessly addicted.

*My hair is at that stage. Too short to do much with, too long to style properly. Ugh. I'm feeling shaggy and, to use Becky's word, frumpy.

Well, that's it. The house cleaning is calling my name. Or rather, Chad is calling my name and asking me what needs to be done. So I better go clear a path to the spare bed so my company has a place to sleep.

A or B

I am convinced that parenting is the biggest game of Multiple Choice you will ever play.

Experts tell you to give your children choices as they grow so they can begin to experience some independence and learn to make their own decisions. They say limit their choices to within your parameters so you can remain in control while giving them a sense of freedom.

That's all fine and dandy, but sometimes I feel like my days are completely made up of A+B=C equations. For example:

• Me: Benen you can either sleep in your pajamas or your underwear and shirt. It's your choice. Either pick out some pajamas or sleep in your shirt and underwear.
  
  Benen: Ummm.....I wanna sleep naked.

• Chad: Benen, these are your choices. You can have an apple, a banana or nothing. What do you want?
  
  Benen: Alright. I'll have a pear.

You see the problem? I give them choices. I set the boundaries. They keep thinking outside the box.

I keep getting suckered.

But they make me smile. Benen, while standing at the bathroom sink - "Get ready for the awesome power of Benen!"

I'm Back

I am officially back. I'm home; I'm happy; I'm cold. I thought I was ready for cooler temperatures after all the heat, but I've changed my mind.

We made it back safe though there were times I wasn't sure I'd live to see my children again. I have all the pictures on my computer, but they're in serious need of some doctoring. I am no photographer as evidenced by my sad, pathetic attempts to capture our adventures. I'm not kidding. Three hundred and fifty-four pictures with just over half turning out. Oh well. At least I'll have some memories, albeit blurring ones.

So, tonight I plan to work on them and I should have some to share with you in a day or two. In the meantime, here are some precious moments since our return:

Chad: "Benen, what am I going to do with you?"
Benen: "Ohhh...just put me to bed."

Connor: "Mom, I'm glad you and dad are home. I forgot what you looked like."

Connor: "Mom, I think maybe next time you go to Costa Rrrica (he tries to roll his r's) you should take us with you."

Home Sweet Cold Home!

'T' minus 1:28 minutes

We're on the countdown and will be leaving in little over an hour and, naturally, I had to squeeze one last blog post in before we go. I will, after all, be forced to survive without my computer for twelve whole days. However, when you look at it this way - crystal blue water, warm sandy beaches, smokin' hot husband - I'm sure I'll find plenty to fill my time.

I can't wait to get away and enjoy some time relaxing with my hubby. But the nausea hit yesterday. It finally dawned on me, I mean really smacked me upside the head, that I will be leaving my children, my babies, for almost two weeks! I'm finding it hard to catch my breath at the mere thought of it. Anxiety attacks. They suck.

Moving on (since my breakfast is trying to make a reappearance) here are some things that have made me smile and laugh today.

*Benen was watching his daddy get ready for the day and inquired, "Daddy, what are those brown dots on your back?"

"They're moles."

"Ohhhh....like you were bitten by moles."

*Benen (talking about why Spiderman is better than Doc Oc and the Green Goblin), "He can be-feet them."

*Benen - "Dad, you're Superman 'cause you can lift the couch!"


*Benen - "Grandma, look at my arms. I'm gettin' hair."

Grandma - "Wow. Pretty soon you'll have as much hair as the dog."

Benen - "Yeah." Big pause, "And maybe even as much as daddy!"

Now I really have to go. Have a great couple of weeks and I'll 'see' you all when I get back!

Backhands & Scoops

I received a backhanded compliment the other day. I was talking with a young lady from one of the high schools here and, during the course of our chit-chat, it came up that I had a husband and kids. She looked at me strangely and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Oh. You don't seem that old."

Ouch. I didn't realize 27 was that old. On the other hand, I'm flattered that I seem....young? Younger? *shrug*

So, here's the latest scoop:

CHAD...
is upset about the picture I posted of him here. He says it makes him look like he's....not playing with a full deck? A few bricks short of a load? Not the sharpest tool in the shed? You pick one. To be honest, I agree; it's not his best photo.

CONNOR...
is trying to convince me to pack up all three of them and drive to the toy store so he can buy a present for his friend's birthday. Um, no.

BENEN...
made this brilliant observation: "When you poop, it looks like you have a tail."

KOLTEN...
picked a piece of cheese over a brownie! Who's kid is this anyways?! And where did I go wrong?!

ME...
I'm counting down the days 'til hubby and I leave for Costa Rica. No diapers, no demands, no sharing my food, NO COMMITMENTS! I'll fly away, oh glory.........

Random, Part 3

Okay, this week has gone way too fast. I'm not complaining - it means the weekend is almost here - but I'm looking back at the past few days and realizing how little I actually accomplished. I haven't posted pictures of Benen's birthday (they're still in my camera) and I'm sitting here at 12:15 a.m. blogging when I should be making lunches for school. Oh, well. So, because this is going to be quick, it's going to be random.

*My baby's progression of disgusting habits (in order):

1. Eating off the floor - because food tastes better when he has to race the Swiffer Vac.

2. Eating off the ground - because dirt has minerals.
3. Playing in the toilet - because it's just a tiny splash pool.

4. Discovering the garbage can - because it's a trove of hidden treasures.

*Since my son discovered the wonders of the garbage can, I have had to rescue my Chapstick (the lid was on), a pair of Connor's jeans, Benen's underwear and Kolten socks. And all in two days. I'm not sure yet what is missing. I've also found him happily munching on scraped-off-the-plate macaroni. Blech.

*The other day, Benen stood on the toilet lid and watched me take out my contact lenses. He had a look of complete awe on his face as he watched me slowly pry the sheer film off my eye. "Whoa," he said. I milked it.

"Yup. Dad may be able to flip his eyelids inside out, but I can take out my lenses!"

He looked at me with complete hero worship and adoration shining from his eyes. Yes!

*A girlfriend and I once ate an entire (small) cheesecake. Nothing says "friendship" like shared gluttony without judgement.

Alright, I really need to get to bed and there are still lunches to make. 'Night.