Sunday, June 27, 2010

Out of the mouthes of babes

The other day when my four-year-old got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. "I have to go potty!."
"Good job making it in time", I call over my shoulder as I continue to make dinner.
"Well, I tinkle a yittle bit in my pants."
"Oh, I'm sorry, that's ok though you made it I'm proud of you", I call over my shoulder distractedly.
"And there's a yittle poops too."
"In your pants?" I say trying not to let the 'You have to be kidding me!' come out in my voice.
"No, in my butt!" he calls back so innocently that I fall to the kitchen floor heaving with laughter. Just where exactly did I think poop came from?


Our four-year-old bravely gave up his pacifier last week so after four days going cold turkey with only one minor withdraw incident we set out for Toys R Us to get a prize. We went for a Bobcat. Not the animal, the digger that "weally works". After much looking and talking with his seven-year-old brother we came home with a Deluxe Chain Saw and goggles. Now just to remind you, we were at Toys R Us, so there is no chance of this being real. However, by the time we got it home and out of the box it had morphed into the real thing. So both boys head out to the back yard to cut down a tree that had been bothering the seven-year-old, and then I hear it- screaming. Thinking they are fighting over the new toy I head out to see the little one in tears. I stand there for a minute trying to compose myself so that I don't end up pulling a Wal-Mart parenting moment when I hear the problem.
"If you don't hold the tree it will fall on me and I will get dead!"
"It can't fall on you pooper it's not real."
"It is real and the tree will hurt me!"
God love him, he was just trying to be safe.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Father's Day

"Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too"
Daughters by John Mayer

Growing up I had that Dad. You know the one that worked hard and provided for his family, hunted, fished, fixed cars, drank beer, and ruled with an iron fist. Never in all those years of living under his rule did I think it would ever be possible to get a compliment, have a conversation, or ever develop a friendship.

But somewhere along the way, we have found a place to call a relationship. Perhaps it was moving out and having to do things for myself. Perhaps it was having to grow up to be the bread winner for myself. Perhaps it was having two kids that helped put those things from childhood in perspective.

Growing up I think it was easy to compare my dad to others dad's that seemed to be doing a better job. Why can't he be more like Heather's dad, or Teresa's dad, or Daddy Warbucks! I never considered the stories he told about his father when he was growing up. Papa was always good to me, picked us up for ice cream every chance he got! All I could think about my dad was why he wasn't doing things differently.

I heard that John Mayer song that I quoted on Father's Day for the first time. I think I've probably heard it on the radio, but I couldn't understand the words considering half the artists today sound like they are singing with rocks in their mouth. I digress....because the first thing that came to my mind when I heard those lyrics was my dad saying Goodbye to me at the airport when I left for Cyprus.

It was the first time I saw my father cry. No, not cry, he sobbed. Shoulders shaking, breath catching, tears rolling down his face. He hugged me so tight I thought my heart stopped. He told me how much he loved me, and how much he would miss me, and that he thought I was brave. I waited 24 years to hear that.

Yes, my Father and I have found a place. But only after I stopped holding him up to a yardstick that didn't fit. He can't be Heather's dad or even Dr. Huxtible. He only had one dad, one role model and I knew the stories. When I really thought about it, sure my dad had done some things the same, but he had also done some things very differently.

It is not until we experience things in life that we can pass judgment. It is not until you have walked down those roads that you can speak with authority. It is not until we become a parent that we can truly appreciate the journey that our own parents went through. Oh, boy what a journey we have had, right Dad!

I love you. Thanks for feeding, clothing, and sheltering me. Thanks for dance lessons, cars, and gas money. Thanks for college-s, moving vans, moving vans, and more moving vans. Thank you for sticking around, not giving up on me, and for finally telling me how proud you are of the person that I have become - because Dad -you are a huge part of that. And I'm very very proud of that Happy Father's Day.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Summer's in Full swing

Well, my grand plan of peace, harmony, and a glorious summer of love - Not happening! I really do have great children, I think it's me that gets in the way. If left alone they play pretty well together and usually work out their issues - with or without force. The problem is really all me.

I've decided that my expectations are WAY too high. I can not imagine where I get that problem, I feel like growing up there were no expectations of me. Don't get killed, arrested, or pregnant. One out of two ain't bad?

Is it the fact that no one paid attention to me or that they expected so little of me make that makes me a monster mother? It's not like I was raised in a military family but by goodness after I tell my boys once the hair on the back of my neck starts to stand up. Like a caged animal pacing in front of the door at feeding time. I hover waiting to pounce when they do not react the second I give the order.

What the hell's wrong with me? They are 7 and 4! My own husband (who's 39) doesn't react until I've screaming at the top of my lungs or sobbing into a pillow. Why should they be any different? Just today I ripped my sliding closet door off the track and plopped it in the hallway because I haven't been able to open it for three months. It got fixed today!

And Heaven knows it's not like I've stopped screaming. I always have good intentions. I see neighbors, have friends, know people with 5+ children and I've never heard them raise their voice. I marvel, I watch, I ask them what their secret is and always get the same response. "There's no secret to parenting, just lighten up, their only kids."

They are only kids, great kids-with a over anxious, high maintenance, ADD mother - Addicted to Dramatic Disturbances. Maybe I should check out the local theater group, perhaps they are doing Taming of the Shrew.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Doth the lady protest too much?

So after 10 months on the Library's list I finally get a copy of the book, The Help. I am so excited! I got it on Friday and it is Sunday and I am on Chapter 22.

Since I am no longer in a book club I have been living vicariously through my sister and friends and what they are reading. The problem is by the time they give me a few title and I get them from the library, no ones talking about them anymore, but me. But this book still seems to be causing a buzz.

Maybe it is one of those books, like The Kite Runner or The Boy in the Striped Pajamas that tend to touch people on a deeper level. There are books that we read for book club, books we take to the beach, classic we feel we must read but I think the importance of any book is discussing it with others. I don't know how many times when I was in a book club, right after my first son was born, I struggled to get through a book by the third Thursday of the month. Sometimes I did, sometimes I did not. It was always when it was a struggle that I found discussion at book club not less important, but enticing. I would leave saying, now I have to finish this book!

One book in particular comes to mind, Memoirs of a Giesha. I struggled with that book, it felt like Senior English Lit all over again, Yuck! Then I got to book club and someone mentioned it was written by a man. Why hadn't I noticed that? Is he totally gay? How does he get such accurate details of the clothes, of make-up, of women. Then there was the night we discussed The Kite Runner. That book totally changed my life at the time. I quit a job I hated with a boss from hell because of it, and one woman said she found if trite. WHAT!

I love to read and I am devouring The Help like so many great book that I have fallen upon lately, but what I am really dying for, is the discussion. Anyone?

Monday, June 7, 2010

Landscaping adventures..

When we last left the landscaping lommox they were knee deep in do; honey do this, honey do that....

I took before and after pictures of the landscaping, and then my husband lost out camera. So not only do I not have pictures of the landscaping to show you I have also lost the pictures of recent events and the children's antics. Hopefully I have downloaded a majority of said pictures and not all are lost.

Since the landscaping project we have also hosted a guest from Colorado, my husband completed a 9 hour mountain bike race, my 7 year-old had the two best baseball games of his career, and we attended a family wedding. It's been really busy.

The kind of busy that wears you out, but send you to bed feeling full. It is nice to have good friends visit, especially when they live so far away. It is nice to see family that we see only once or twice a year. It is nice to spend the day completely and remember that we are so truly blessed.

Summer has officially started. Even though I know that tomorrow will be the true test because the guest will be gone, the activities done, and the day is uncharted I look forward to meeting it head on. Raise the main sail boys, we're off!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Summers Here!

Ah, Summer. It means something different to everyone. My seven-year-old was in tears because it means "he will never see his friends again". My four-year-old doesn't quite get it and is still telling people he has school on Monday and Tuesday. My husband gets to have a semi-normal work schedule which means we see him before 8:30 at night. What does it mean for me? More work.

Normally I would go into a humorous rant about how living with three boys can drive a woman to drink. But I am really looking forward to this summer. Before you check the blog to make sure it is the Queen of Complaining, I'm still here. But I have really missed having my seven-year-old around.

Three days into Summer vacation look for a blog about how I can't wait for school to start so I've shipped them off to the Military Academy because I know this won't last long. It's like a new romance, we are in the lust stage. The part of the relationship where you dream of all possible; long walks on the beach, stolen moments of peace, and confiding in one another.

I am dreaming of a summer filled with trips to the library for more books, science experiments, lots of crafts, baking cookies, and whole afternoons at the pool. I am dreaming of two brothers giggling and playing with each other under the tree for hours. I am dreaming of a new night time ritual where I wave my hand and say goodnight and they disappear upstairs.

A girl can dream! Can't I?