Happy Birthday Dave

I guess it's time to come clean...it's taken me about a month to figure out how to make this post funny, while not making me out to be a "sometimes" crappy wife.

Let's jump back to June 2nd.

Dave turns 35.

I have just spend the 2 weeks prior, single parenting, while one child is graduating preschool, finishing up 16 memory books, dealing with a toddler's 101 temperature, trying to unsuccessfully potty train a 3 year old, attending kindergarten preview night, packing my family for 5 days away, preparing 5 days worth of meals, loading the car alone, and driving through the night to spend 5 nights with two of our most favorite couples, and a total of 5 children under the age of 5...in rainy Whistler.

I was tired.

So like I cared that it was his birthday.

He asked me the night before if I wanted to get up with him in the morning to see him off to work on his birthday.

Nope.

When we finally did call him to sing to him at 11am, my kids both had a mouth full of cereal and you couldn't understand anything they were saying.

Whatever.

He told me that his office was taking him to lunch. When I called him to see where he went, he said that everyone left without him.

Whoops.

About 5 o'clock I decided I'd better rally. I brushed my hair, teeth, and put on a pair of sweatpants.

Earlier in the day I had bought a box of cake mix. (this never happens...) This was in the same shopping trip where I told my chidlren I just wanted to go home, so they would leave me alone.

Sometimes I'm a crappy mom too!

I glopped the cake mix into muffin tins, overfilling each one. When they came out of the oven, I shaved off the sides.

Parker asked if we could get noise makers for Daddy.

I hate noise.

He ran to the recycle bin and pulled out an empty box of vitamins. Noise Maker, check.

He also said we needed a pinata for daddy.

No we don't.

Back to the recycling bin he goes...this time coming out with a cereal box. Pinata, check.

While I am taking the roasted chicken that I found in the back of my freezer out of the oven, my children are going around the house collecting items for the pinata.

Poor Dave...

After dinner, Dave told me that he would give the boys a bath, because, "I think that the cupcakes will look better after you frost them..."

Really?

Jammies on, pinata tied to the dining room table chair, spatula ready to break the baby open.

Out falls the following birthday presents:

2 Lego shields
A tape measure
My hairbrush
Dave's electric razor

You know it's love...

When goggles make a girl swoon.

Mission accomplished.

I weally weally wike baguls.

Hamsters and Boys...Oh the Joys!

When I was a little girl, I had a hamster. For some reason, my parents thought it was a better idea than getting a dog. I hated cleaning the cage, so it always stunk like pee. And because I hate the smell of pee, I now hate hamsters.

Jump forward now 20 years...and I have two boys. One that pees standing up, and one that pees lying down, standing up, sitting down, kneeling over...whatever.

But for our current issue, we are going to put Blake in the hot seat. Not Dave, he is unbelievably clean. I think that I have scared him into it. I wouldn't be surprised if he bleaches the rim of the bowl when he is done.

For the last couple of weeks, I have been having "phantom" hamster smell in my guest bathroom. It is making me absolutely crazy. It is all I think about, obsess about, and it is all I smell.

Today, for the 4th time this week, I got down on my hands and knees, and smelled every crack and crevice in that entire bathroom. At one point, even my hair got wet from dipping it in the toilet bowl.

I think I am going crazy.

I washed the shower curtain and liner. I bleached the tub (I am hoping Blake's aim isn't thaaaat bad.). I folded up sheets of paper towel and stuffed them in any space that could possibly need a paper towel stuffed. Finally, I poured baking soda all over my toilet.

Then I gave Blake a lesson on how to pee. Hold on, and aim.

If he doesn't get it, I am making him sit from now on.

Or...bleach the bathroom after every use.

Just DO it

A lie is when you convince someone to believe something other than the truth.

I lied to my children.

They want bunk beds.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO badly.

I think it is a stupid idea.

I told them that they could have them when Mommy got pregnant with a little girl.

Blake and Parker are so excited. Not only do they get bunk beds, but they also get a little sister!

But here is where the lie comes in...Remember? I am done having children. DONE.

Oh, and I don't have plans on adopting one either. Don't worry.

I told the boys that if mommy had another baby, I would never have enough time to answer all of their questions.

About a week after our initial baby and bunk bed convo, Blake says to me, "Mommy. I think that I have all of the answers I need. I don't have anymore questions. You can go ahead have a baby girl in your tummy now."

So...should I lie to him and tell him that his daddy didn't just email me and ask me to start researching "snipper doctors?"

The Art of Becoming a Boy

Dirt
Mud
Bugs
Trains
Peeing in the Forest

All things that I am beginning to appreciate more and more.

Since literally taking almost all of my kids toys away, (you think I joke...) I have realized how much creativity my kids have in them. From making guns out of plastic coat hangers, to bob sledding down the hall in the laundry basket, I want my boys to live a life a where they aren't stifled by "stuff"

It's finding the right amount of "reasonable mess" (breathe Wendy...) and controlled chaos. I like this best when it is outside the walls of my manicured and well kept home.

So we called up our most darling friends, The Glenns, (whose boys are one week older than Blake, and three days younger than Parker!!) and headed to Haworth Park down the street from out house. We were well equipped with boots, dirty jeans, hats, and snacks. I however forgot to apply my water proof mascara upon departure from our house.

It poured...and poured, and then poured a whole lot more.

We splashed, slipped, peed in the woods (them, not me...and unfortunately not Parker...), screamed, laughed, cried, stuffed rocks in our pockets, caught bugs, watched trains, and got really really dirty.

It might have been one of the most amazing afternoons of my life.

Jesus in my heart

"Mommy, check this out! There's my heart, and there's Jesus right inside it! Oh, and my name next to it in case you forget."

Does Jesus have a handle bar stash?

Smile!!!

This is how Parker and I occupied ourselves for 75 minutes while we watched his brother get soaking wet at T-Ball practice last week.

My kids ask me all the time to take them out to lunch. I don't see the point when we have perfectly good and healthy food at our house.

Today when I told them no, they asked me to call my mom, she would take them to lunch.

"Dat Nana Gurl...she weally wikes wunch."

munch munch munch

Brusha Brusha Brusha

We went to the dentist this morning for Kids Day.

The theme of the day was baseball, and both of my children dressed themselves.

Blake was standing tall, ready in his t-ball outfit, and Parker in his Husky gear.

Who knew that we would run into the sparkly-wand-making, silly-face-painting Tooth Fairy before our appointment.

Naturally, Blake is an astronaut, while Parker is a pirate. (but not to be confused with a dalmatian.)

I have been told that neither will be taking a bath for at least 3 days.

Eeew.

Blake was into object painting one morning. After a painting of the pineapple, frog tank (not ours...don't worry...) his bowl of oatmeal, here is what he created. I am beside myself with it!

Sassy Pants and Bossy Boots

I am constantly encouraging "the littles" to go change their clothes. We have a just acquired a lovely sized 3T set of "Sassy Pants" in our home.

Where shall we begin...

Oh, how about when Parker and Blake were continuing to scream and yell to make each other laugh.

I said, "Parker, stop. Girls don't like loud noises."

His response, "Well boys do."

Or what about in the car the other day when his word of choice continued to be "Stinky"

I said, "Parker, enough! Just knock it off."

He says, "No Mommy...you knock it off."

Which then lead to silence in the car. After about 5 minutes he quietly says, "Mommy, you pritty gurl."

I sighed and said, "Thank you Parker."

He immediately says, "You happy now Mommy?"

There is a casino on the way to our house from the freeway. Blake wanted to know what it was.

I explained to him that it is a place where people take money and play games, and then hope that they win more money. However, it is also a place that people can leave with no money, which in the end can be very devastating for their lives.

Oh.

Last night we went to Chucky Cheese for the first time. My kids were beside themselves, and so were Dave and I. We were the only family there, besides our super fun friends, The Johnsons. I made it through...although it was a little touch and go from time to time.

My kids placed tokens in almost every one of the games, just to see the tickets spit out. This might have kept Parker busy for at least 45 minutes...and might I say out of the ball pit?

On our way home, as we passed the casino, Blake says, "Mommy is going to chucky cheese kind of like going to the casino? Do you think that we were wasting God's money?"

If Jesus saw the salad bar, I know he would say yes.

Mr. Pleaser

We were packing up in the car yesterday and Parker was being exceptionally snotty. I finally turned around and say, "Parker, knock it off!"

His eyebrows furrow, he purses his lips and says, "No YOU knock it off."

Not funny.

Ever.

I then proceeded to not so gently remind him that there are some things that only parents can do. Like eat ice cream for dinner...in bed! (I didn't say that.)

It was quiet in the car and he finally says, "Mommy. You pritty gwill."

"Thank you Parker."

As if on cue, he quickly responds, "You happy now?"

No.

Get it Right Mom

I was putting books away in Parker's room today and noticed a couple of random blue crayon markings on the wall.

"Parker, what is that?"

He looks at me, looks at the ground and then starts to smile.

"Whoa...did you do that? Crayons go on paper, not the wall. Did you do that today?"

He looks up, and turns very serious on me. "No mommy. I do it morrow."

"What? You did it yesterday?" I asked him.

"NO! I do it morrow. You not see it today."

On the way to school this morning, Blake and Parker were naturally arguing over the same red piece of paper, with lizards punched out of it.

It belonged to Blake, Parker had it, Blake wanted it.

Parker said, "No."

"You are bratty Parker."

I couldn't help but gasp. I turned to Blake and said, "Wow. That was mean. I am sure you know what to do next, and why don't you add in there something nice about your brother while your at it."

"Sorry Parker. You're not bratty all the time."

I am currently listening to my children talk to each other.

I asked them to pick up their rooms before dinner.

"Parker, go clean up your room."

"No."

"Parker, really. Go clean up your room."

"Hmmmm...no."

"Parker just do it. Go into your room and start cleaning it!"

No repsonse.

"I feel like all I ever say to you is clean your room Parker!"


Wait.


What?

Showing and Telling

Everyday after preschool we have the same discussion in the car.

"How was school...good"
"What was for snack...cheese and crackers."
"What did you learn...nothing."
"How was ________ (we will leave this name blank)...a little wild."

Today Blake brought Parker for show and tell.

They wore matching t-shirts. They had matching jeans. They have matching hair.

Blake went and gathered his little brother from the 2-3's class and brought him into the 4-5's circle. They shared a carpet square. They whispered and quietly giggled like a couple of girls.

Then Parker turns to Blake in a very quiet voice and says, "Who is ________?"

Blake points to the "young wild one who shall remain nameless."

Parker gets up on his knees, shakes his finger and loudly whispers to the little boy, "____________...No! No! No!"

Oh Boy...

Blake is playing t-ball.

Last week at practice they called him in from the outfield to play catcher.

He was busy collecting dandelions.

He was wearing a shirt that says, "I Heart Mom"

Stay tuned for the post where the pitcher beats him up after the game.

Sometimes being the only girl in my house makes it 3000 times more exciting when you buy new shoes.

Obviously.

Amen...

Dear Jesus, please don't let anyone from our preschool read this:

The other night I asked Parker if there was anything specific that he wanted to pray about before I tucked him in.

He said, "Mommy, pway sor Wucas" (Lucas)

"Oh really, why does Lucas need prawer?" (I can't help it!!)

"He wild boy Mommmy."

"Okay, anyone else?"

"Oh, Mommy, Madison. Naughty gurwl."

"Okay, Lucas and Madison."

"Jonah too Mommy. He kicker. Hitter boy."

"Got it. Madison, Lucas and Jonah. What about you Parker, should we pray for you?"

"Nah, me good boy."

Oh Blake...

"Mommy. When are you going to put me on the stage?

I just want to sing..."

Last night Blake was dying to help me make dinner. I had previously made dinner earlier in the afternoon, and now we just needed to place things on the stove to get it rolling again.

He helped me dump pasta in a bowl, add spaghetti sauce (with mashed up beans...little extra protein snuck in there!) and then wanted to be the cheese adder man.

Once the table was set, and everyone had their plate, he rushed back to "his" seat. On the way, his foot got stuck in my very long, very thick velvet curtain hanging on the back slider.

He flew into the table, hit his chair, which fell over and made a huge dent in the wall. Trying to catch himself, he grabbed his placemat and flipped his entire dinner onto the wall, and all over the floor.

Remember...spaghetti sauce...

He burst into tears, turned a slight shade a blue and I think at one point stopped breathing. I took him into the other room, calmed him down and had him show me where it hurt. He pulled up his shirt and showed me his chest.

His eyes got really big and he said, "I hurt right here next to my heart!"

I said, "You are right, but you are okay Blake."

"But Mommy! I am alright, but I don't know if Jesus is!"

All in a weeks work...

I think that we are having a rough week...

I have cleaned up toilet paper strewn all over my bathroom.
I have iced an eyeball from a "tipped over canoe" accident (or a stood on drawer from a train table)
I have handed the pieces of a broken closet to my 5 year old to gift to his father upon his return from work.
I have spanked a 3 year old thigh (it's true...) for laughing in my face when he was being disciplined.

Yesterday, my children had too much energy for me to be able to enjoy a MOD pizza dinner in Bellevue. I scarfed down my #2, and piled "the littles" into the car. One decides to play peek a boo with me on the far side of the car. I wanted to scream.

So I did.

As we were driving out of the parking lot, I told my boys how frustrated I was that I had to leave dinner with our entire family, because they couldn't seem to figure out an appropriate way to act in public.

The ride from Bellevue to Everett was very quiet.

As we exited the freeway, Parker asked me a question. I answered him and then I hear this from my sassy mouthed mister...

"Soooooo...does this mean you are done with all your madness?"

This is what happens when there are no toys to play with in your room during quiet time.

For the most part, my kids keep their toys in their rooms. I have decreased the amount of toys that Blake has in his room by 50%, and placed the rest in the garage in storage bins. My kids don't really have a ton of toys, and I have found it to be so much easier for Blake to play in his room (for my requested 3 hours...) when there is less mess to make! He can concentrate easier, not get hurt, and create really cool things...like a drive in movie theater with an ice cream shop...all made out of tinker toys and a marble run!

I came to a point where I didn't want to clean up toys in their rooms at the end of the day, and after Blake had smashed the contents of yet another board game from stepping on it, I cleaned his entire room out of toys.

Every single bit. And left the books.

He now is earning each toy back one at a time. Everyday he get to choose a new toy based on how he was able to treat the other toys from the day before. That includes putting them away.

I tried the same trick with Parker about a week later. I told him that unless he picked up his toys right then and there, I would take all 6 of his baskets of toys.

He responded with exasperated arms, "Just take tem Mommy, take tem."

I win

We (actually...let's blame it on my mom) have started an icky habit in our house.

Ugh...we let our kids on occasion play with our iPhone.

I hate it. Soooo much. I could make it stop, but I now know how to use it towards my advantage.

My mom has two iPhones. Why not?

Both my kids get to play on them at the same time when they are at her house. (could life be any more fair?) When I came to pick the kids up from my parent's yesterday, I told the boys that their phone time had been tapped out for the day. They understood.

Last night after I tucked Parker in, I found Dave and Blake snuggled up, pouring over an app on Dave's phone that was all about planets...of course!

I gave a dramatic gasp, and said, "Blake, you knew that you were done with phone time for the rest of the day, yet you didn't tell Daddy that did you?"

He looked at me, looked at Dave and began to fake cry.

Don't.

I then told him to head to bed, and that he would not be able to have phone time for three days. You would think that I am dealing with my 16 year old here...

When Dave tucked him in, he told him that he was scared of Mommy.

Why am I beaming with pride?

Owie Knees

This is the current diagnosis at our house...

Owie Knees.

Poor Parker is having what we think is growing pains. The kind that cause my super durable, weirdly tough, 3 year old to howl for what seems like an eternity!

After being tested for leukemia, as well as having x rays taken for bone fragments, his testings came back normal.

I happen to have my camera in my purse, (along with a matchbox car, 9 containers of hand sanitizer, a banana, a pull up, piece of a plastic trumpet, an empty jar of vitamins...) and had to capture how darling he was in this gown!

That was two weeks ago. Now, every night when I tuck him in, he convinces me to stay and "twalk bout tings" like retelling the story of the day the men took pictures of his knees.

Valentine's Day

I try really hard to do a themed family night at least every other month. We usually come up with something fun for dinner, some sort of craft or game, and then watch a movie together.

Word to the wise...if you want Clifford's Valentine Special, get in line. Netflix was set to make the delivery to our mailbox come Easter. Thank goodness Dave brought his A Game and showed up with Miss Spider's Heartland. Nice recovery.

Blake brought valentine's to all of his friends at school. I wrapped heart candy boxes, and he wrote his name.

It almost killed me.

Especially when "just for fun" he started writing his name backwards.

I LOVE my family

Downsizing...

We have no need for toys here...we like canned goods.

Our babysitter is cuter than your babysitter

Especially when you run into her on the streets of Leavenworth, and she is more than willing to take part in a "triple kiss"

Licorice Man...or Moose?