spring!

i took this photo on my drive home from work yesterday. and when alex bounced home from school announcing, 'it's the first day of spring mom. which means we just never know if it's going to be sunny or rainy or cold or warm or cloudy or if there will be a rainbow or not.' she pretty much nailed it.

ian said he had a fact to share too. 'wait for it........', he taunted.

and then he proceeded to TOOT, loudly followed by laughter. i, of course did not find that amusing and excused myself from the table for a minute to pull my of course i was amused but totally horrified self together. when i returned 'straight faced' i asked him where he heard such a thing. this 'wait for it'.

'i made it up mom, i just thought it would be funny. you know, you say 'wait for it' and someone thinks something good is going to happen and BAM, it's a toot' giggles, laughter, and falling out of his chair at the dinner table ensues.

i then explained that this was not appropriate (not the wait for it, but the part that came next) and whichever 5th grade boys mouth he learned this trick from, his mother should be ashamed. just like i was.

but then i got to thinking how our conversation was quite profound. come march & april, when you live in the pacific northwest, you just CANNOT wait for spring to start. you throw yourself into the outdoors all pale, with dark circles under your eyes. your tired and vitamin D deficient. you shed you sherpa coats, knee high rain boots and snuggies and turn the thermostat in your house down 2 degrees to a comfortable 68.

you are so tired of the cold and rain, a tiny tulip bud poking threw your leaf strewn, over-grown, and soggy yard can bring tears to your eyes. the happy kind.

you feel hope, because you've waited for it. a-l-l w-i-n-t-e-r long.

and then the inevitable happens. what comes next is 3-4 months of just never knowing if it's going to be sunny or rainy or cold or warm or cloudy or if there will be a rainbow or not and you dream of summer.

and you wait for it.

fumian

each year, the kids school celebrates the 100th day of school. they usually have a celebration and everyone has to bring in 100 of the same object to count and/or share. the teacher's usually bring in 100 cheerios, or marshmallows, or chocolate chips for all the kids to count and then eat. 

for us parents, it's usually just another tuesday but for the kids it's something special.

today, ian brought home his 100th day of school learning packet and after opening and reading, it had sean and i practically on the floor in tears.

from laughing.

ian's teacher applied for a grant last year that allowed each child to have their own personal iPad in class. they do a lot of work on the iPad and email the teacher. they write, draw, and do math. occasionally, i'll randomly get an email from ian while at work with his special work of the day. this packet was done from the iPad.

first, the 'i wish i had 100...'

anyone know what njogo's are?

and then, 'i'm glad i do not have 100...'

'thblu's?'

and finally 'if i had $100...'

'i gir a bed' because we currently make him sleep on the hard cement floor. with only a placemat for comfort.

also included in his backpack paper stash this week was a valentines love letter from my boy. 

i'm thinking it is supposed to say 'mommy, hope you have a happy valentines, from ian'

and with that, sean and i have decided to start calling him 'fumian'

funnies.

it's been awhile since i've posted some funnies. and maybe they aren't really funny, and i'm just a sleep deprived hag that would laugh if your 5 year old spilled a gallon of orange juice all over your just cleaned kitchen floor.

oh wait, that really happened.

most of what happens in our house these days, is not funny. the mornings are spent frantically rushing around to get us all out the door with all the right things. mom and dad need their coffee, kids need their lunches and camp gear, and sunscreen on their faces. dog needs food, water, and his bed drug into the laundry room where he resides when we are gone to prevent the chomping of alex's last remaining barbies that actually still have heads and arms. 

then we go to work. and we do what we do there.

then i get home at 6, and start the drill sergeant routine of bossing the kids around to drag the dog's bed to where it belongs, feed him once again, put their shoes and backpacks away, and throw their lunches in the sink. dinner's made, baths are had, stories are read and we all dump ourselves into bed.

not a lot of time for funny. so maybe i hold on to the funny that happens at inopportune times when you aren't expecting the funny. maybe i make funny out of the not so funny. 

luckily or unluckily, i have a nice long commute that a) gives me 45 minutes of 'me time' before i pick up the kids and then another 30 of 'quality time' jibber jabbing with them on the way home about their day and answering ian's 1 trillion questions that he's apparently been harboring all. day. long.

'mom, i'd like to talk about god. is she pretty as you? and was she the first human alive in the universe?'

before i have a chance to answer, he's moved on to the next...

'mom, if the sun fell down would it always be the night?'

'mom, do you think bee's are scary? do they know they sting you or is it an accident? what if we had a bee for a pet? can we get a turtle?'

and as we pass mcdonald's each day, and I come up with yet another excuse WHY WE CANNOT STOP (albeit the quick and easy option) conversations as follows occur:

Ian: 'Can we go to McDonalds?'
Me: (silence)
Ian: 'I want a new mom'
Me: 'we can go to Safeway and get you a new one'
Ian: 'I guess I'll just keep you'
Alex: 'AWKWARD'

or

Ian: 'Mom, is Sunriver in India and can I take my water gun on the airplane?'

(Sunriver is a three hour drive from our house)

and sometimes it's laughter as opposed to crying as the two fight over their respective art projects, ask for snacks i do not have, proclaiming out of fatigue and car boredom that they 'hate their lives' or 'are proud of nobody'. Or, when I almost get run off the road by an impaired driver, get sprayed by a sprinkler (while inside my car), and spill a large diet coke on my lap on a day i cave at the mcdonald's request.

ian, since he was 2, and we made that impeccably irresponsible decision to move him from his crib to a 'big boy bed', has been teetering on the edge of either cracking us up at bedtime, or driving us madly insane. 

one night, rather than sleeping he came to the top of the stairs to tell us the following in an effort to stay up:

1. Dad, you smell like rotting tomatoes
2. Mom, my wall broke
3. It smells like dog food in my room
4. My blankets are too heavy on my bruise

other complaints arise regarding non-existent slivers, dying of thirst, and being concerned that he hasn't yet read all the books on his bookshelf. between these stairway visits, we hear sounds that have sean and i wondering if there are 12 construction men upstairs tearing down walls. he tears his room apart, has pillow fights with himself, and talks and sings until ultimately, he ends up falling asleep (rarely on his own bed) and can be found most often on his floor on a pile of blankets and toys, or in our bed. 

recently, while on vacation he told his pop that he must be 'really really really really old' and asked his gramma if she really retired, or was she just fired? the brutally honest observations of a 5 year old....

in other news, his pathological lying has somewhat waned and we believe that all the google searches of 'everything my 5 year old says is a lie' were correct in that it is a normal stage of development and ensures our youngster has an incredible imagination and that we should feel confident he's maturing normally. 

if nothing else he's extremely modest like his father, and would never go outside in his skivvies wearing nothing but a bike helmet and tennis shoes.

oh wait...

And we stifle our laughs...

Ian is at this hilarious age. I feel like everything he says or does is funny. Even if it's wrong, naughty or inappropriate. In these instances we deliver the solemn faced punishment, advise him of our disappointment and then run with our hands over our mouths into the other room to laugh in private.

We went through a two month period where each and every day I picked him up from school, I would wait for the teacher to pull me aside. I'd see a note jotted on the sign in sheet. 'SEE TEACHER', it would say. I'd tip my head back, roll my eyes and like a kid in trouble would sulk to the teacher and ask, 'what this time?'

Usually it was in regards to his 'potty words'. What is it about boys and these 'no-no' words? I DO NOT KNOW. We don't talk like that in our house. At least not in front of the kids and from a young age we worked to instill the words we wanted them to use that were of our liking. But of course, there is JUST so much you can control about a 3 year old. The final straw was when Ian received a stronger course of action at school for swatting another boy on the rear in the restroom. Now to me, this is just part of being a boy? I mean, he's just advanced, right? Isn't that what happens in the boys locker room? On the football field? Regardless, he rec'd weeks of solitary bathroom use and could not enter the boys restroom unless alone.

As I'd buckle him in the car each day and dole out the punishment for the night (usually something taken from him, (the privilege to drive his electric car, his favorite toy, or the after dinner t.v. show) he would pout his lip, cross his arms and one day he exclaimed, 'I hate you'.

I gasped. I retracted from him shaking my head in disappointment. My 3 year old son hated me.

I remember as a kid the word, 'hate' not being allowed in our house. Low and behold, we are fighting the same battles in our 4 and now 6 year old. Alex started it, surely picking up the word from school and when frustrated, mad, or what have you would scream, 'I hate myself!'. This of course was hilarious to us as, I think she really meant to say, 'I hate this' or that or the situation, maybe even 'I hate you'. Regardless, 'I hate myself' would send us sneaking out of the room to hide our grins. It was time for an intervention.

We buckled down alongside the teachers, working together to nip this problem in the bud and I'm happy to say that after a week or two of swift and diligent consequences for his actions he was on the up and up.

One Friday, after 5 whole days without a timeout or 'potty word' at school I buckled Ian in his car seat, I told him how proud I was of him. I said, 'this deserves a reward with a dinner out!' His response, 'Ah Mom. Thanks! I don't hate you anymore!' After dinner, the kids got to choose a 'shot' of dessert of their choice. These are adorable, tiny sized desserts that fit in a double shot glass. Perfect size, perfect price for our perfectly behaved, non potty word saying angel boy.

I watched Ian finish his dessert with pride, and smiled as he put the last bite into his mouth. We did it! We were cocky in our parenting skills as we glanced around at the Mis-behaving kids in our midst. All it takes is consistency and dedication! Ian then dropped the spoon into the empty shot glass and shouted, 'Butt hole!'. And with that, he was whisked from his chair and taken to the car with a full belly of chocolate lava cake and a smile on his face.

He's also smart as a whip. Our bedtime routine usually goes something like this: He'll bat his eyes, snuggle up to me and sing me a little song. He says 'Mom, did you hear that? I sang you a song and I'm giving it to you. Giving it to your heart.'

I thank him, kiss him, snuggled him and can't let go.

Then he says, 'So...Can I have another story?'

Some of you may remember this post. Not much has changed since these early days of getting Ian to sleep in a 'big boy bed'. We have ourselves a night owl with this one and luckily he stays in his room for the most part talking, singing, quietly playing with intermittent shouts that send us cracking up downstairs. Each evening as we head upstairs to bed we each stop into each of the kids room to fix their covers, kiss them goodnight, and most importantly see what predicament Ian fell asleep in.

He is notoriously in a funny position, toys strewn about, bed completely torn apart, and as of late, resting high on a tower of pillows like the 'prince and the pea'. He pulls the backrest from the mini-couch in his room, stacks on that his pillow, on top of that his pillow pet, on top of that HIM like a king on his thrown. All the blankets (and there are many) piled on top of him. With a gentle push, he rolls from his tower and settles nicely on his bed and I have to use all my willpower not to giggle out loud and wake him.

I never know what each day will bring with this child. Whether it's a head injury, a giant kitchen spill, a stern talk with his teacher, or a stifled laugh. I will say (and I'm going to use a forbidden word here), I hate to imagine a day without him. Good behavior or bad behavior if you can laugh through parenthood, and the ups and downs of it I think you're doing alright.

It was a typical Wednesday night...

I'm sitting here at my desk chuckling and I cannot stop. Every few minutes the mental image of what I witnessed last night flashes in front of my eyes, blocks the dual monitors I work from and makes me giggle out loud.

It was a typical Wednesday night, I was on my own for bedtime as Sean has committee meetings. I was dragging myself through the motions, checking the clock and wondering if it was acceptable for me to go to bed at 8:15.

It's no secret that Alex has what we call, 'emotions'. She's got a temper and at times we find ourselves leaving a room to let her work out her frustrations, to scream ridiculously, or pitch whatever fit she feels necessary to deal with her baggy pant leg, her itchy shirt, or the fact that she left her 'shiny' (sleep blanket) down in the laundry room.

It was one of those nights, emotions mixed with a dose of crazy from some early Easter Candy had her bouncing around on her bed as I tried to tuck her in. I gave up, told her I'd come back in a few minutes after she calmed down and headed to the storage closet to pull out the easter basket she needed for school the next day.

It was when I was deep in the closet and had crawled over suitcases, wrapping paper containers and several bins of tiny baby clothes that I heard the screaming. It was a blood curdling scream which is not unusual when she is REALLY MAD at her untied shoelace or otherwise so I didn't panic.

I took my time gathering what I needed, I even took a few seconds to scoot the suitcases out of the way and slowly crawled out wondering if we ever move out of this house if I could just leave all this stuff here.

The screams continued and I leisurely walked down the hall, head back, eyes rolling wondering if I was ever going to be able to sit down in peace this evening.

I turned the corner into her room and had to stifle with EVERY bit of strength I had from laughing out loud as I found Alex dangling upside down from the foot board of her bed. Her feet were in the air, she was hanging by one arm grasping onto her antique iron bed frame with a look of fear on her face that SHE JUST MIGHT FALL 4 INCHES TO THE FLOOR was priceless.

I lifted her up and asked what happened and she frantically told me her tale that she wasn't jumping around crazily but organizing her pillows. And she somehow, rather than flinging herself off the bed, was SHOT off the bed by the force of nature that is her 'shiny' as she tried to cover herself with it. I nodded, told her I was sorry for what happened and covered her up and left the room and laughed and I have not stopped.

For all the drama we deal with as parents, and for the long nights trying to get them into bed I've learned that sometimes we are returned with just a tiny karmic gift. And next time I find myself exhausted, and frustrated because she has to go to the bathroom for the 3rd time, or needs another drink of water, I am going to remember this moment of her dangling, panic stricken, upside down, by one arm, looking at me as if I am the one person that can save her from death and I'll get through it.

Conversations with little people...

M: Alex, what's your favorite thing about soccer?
A: My outfit.

M: Ian, where is this whiny voice coming from all of a sudden?
I: My mouth.

M: Ian, are you so excited to start your new school?
I: No, my new friends will wreck my buildings, step on my toes, and scratch my butt.

A: Mom, when will I need to wear one of those 'booby things' (bra)?

M: Not for awhile, when your older like me.

A: You mean when my butt gets bigger and I need to wear hats?

M: Yes, I guess so.

M: Alex, tell me your favorite thing about Kindergarten.

A: I had two recesses

M: Did you meet any new friends?

A: Yes, five of them.

M: What are their names?

A: I have no idea.

M: You should ask them tomorrow and start by saying, "My name is Alex, what is your name?" because they probably want to know your name too.

A: There is no talking when the teacher is talking.

M: That is good attention to the rules, maybe you could ask at one of your recess breaks.

A: That's when I swing.

M: Well okay, suit yourself and have nameless friends.

A: We don't need to know names, we just play.

M: Ian, eat your dinner

I: I can't, my tummy is up to here (he puts his hand on his forehead).

M: Well, that is too bad. If your tummy is up to your forehead than you have no room for a Popsicle.

I: But my leg hurts.

(A brief pause)

I: I think my tummy is only up to here (he puts his hand on his thigh) and there is room for Popsicle in my foot.

M: Then you should have room for dinner.

I: My leg hurts.

A Top Ten, for the love of the Holiday Spirit

Yesterday was a super fun, tradition filled day of family Holiday get readiness. We took the kids to see Santa, got our Christmas Tree, and decorated the heck out of it. Mostly the bottom branches but it looks good. Little full, Lotta sap. Looks good though. Instead of explaining the events in detail, I've come up with a Top Ten list, or recap if you will...

10. Alex: 'MOM, you GOTTA try this hot chocolate' in a total valley girl meets munchkin kinda way and Ian saying 'PERFECT' after each ornament he placed on the tree. Even though, seconds later it would fall off and I'd have to re-apply.

9. Sean: I'm really feeling the Christmas Spirit. Me: What? You never do. Sean: I love the Christmas Spirit.

8. Ian on Santa's lap, keeping his face at a safe '2 foot' distance from his face. Back stiff, eyes wide, no speaking. When asked what he wanted for Christmas his reply, 'DOG'. Which is either a large, hairy, smelly and needy animal we already have, or the name of his security blanket he sleeps with. I suspect the later.
7. Sean taking 7 years and a day to get the tree down. Kids standing silently just WAITING.

6. Finding the perfect tree in the 'already cut down lot', but 'for the experience' trudged up a huge icy hill for a lifetime memory where remarkably, Alex was just as picky as me. 'Too tall, too fat, big hole there, bad top, crooked trunk, bad coloring, kinda dead inside....' We eventually amazingly found one that is nice, real nice.

5. Comparing every tree on the icy icy, cold and slippery hill to 'already cut down tree' in the lot very close to our car.

4. Saying, She'll see it later, her eyes are frozen.' And meaning it.

3. Me leaning over in the backseat to help Ian with his seat belt, and accidentally hitting the gas to the floor. I thought it was a really loud and annoying weed wacker and after seeing Sean waving at me through the back window screaming 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?', realizing it was me.

2. Alex frantically screaming 'HELP, it hurts' from the other room and finding out she had an ornament lodged in the back of her tangled weave of a hairdo.

1. After loading the car with an absurd quantity of Costco goods, we pulled out of our parking spot to find ourselves blocked with a shopping cart that had rolled out of the cart return. Sean, threw his hands up and said, and I quote, 'NICE'. Clearly he was irritated and mocking the idiot fool that did not put the cart FAR enough in to where it wouldn't roll out. Well, as I got to looking at it, I realized that not only was it the only cart in sight, it had a blue seat not red. JUST LIKE OURS. It was the same cart Sean had just returned. Needless to say, I laughed mostly all day about it repeating his 'NICE' remark. A priceless moment I will mock him for for the rest of our lives.

Every year as the kids get older, these traditions get more and more fun and we get better and better at making them successful. I'm happy to report that for the first year our tree did not fall over, yet.

Just a few knee slappers

It's been one of those weeks where I swear, EVERYTHING makes me laugh. I'm blaming it on my water consumption (a personal challenge to get out the coke and get in the H20), or the high doses of vitamins I've been taking to ward off H1N1. But seriously, I have a few funnies to share.



The first, has already been published on facebook, but still it has me laughing. Last week, while Sean was in DC for work I was plowing my way solo through the bedtime routine. Baths, teeth brushing, getting Ian to have an interest in the toilet, hair brushing, STORY TIME. As Ian stood naked at the sink brushing his teeth (a new favorite), I helped him along brushing the back ones when I found low and behold his 2 year molars poking through. I got a bit excited. I said 'Wow Ian, look at that! They are coming in!'



Alex's response? 'What Mom, his wiener hairs?'





I truly have no idea. And I choose not to question it, as it's just one of the many funny things she says on a daily basis.



Like yesterday, when she asked me what that thing in her room is. 'You know Mom, that thing on my dresser you turn on when I have the chokes?' 'The chokes?' I said, 'It's a humidifier, and it's for when you have a cough'.



Her and I also had an argument this week as I was clipping her nails. I said, 'Wow, you have a hangnail'. She replied, 'No Mom, it's a skin ripper'. OK.



Sean, (my first baby) also had a funny this week. We were cruising around town, having one of those 'bed bath & beyond/home depot/Costco' sorta Saturdays when he asked me what kind of car was in front of us. I have this strange knack in remembering all cars, make and model. It's a random obsession of mine, don't ask. Anyway, he said 'It's not quite an SUV and not really a mini-van?' I said, 'Yes, it's a Buick Enclave and they call them crossovers.' His reply? 'Crossing over into UGLY'. Of course the whole car had a laugh out of that. The funniest part? We pretty much have a 'crossover' ourselves. Niiiiiccce.

Ian should not be left out, he is quite proud (as he should be) when he uses the toilet. He looks forward to his skittle reweard and very exuberantly ALWAYS exclaims, 'I'm so proud of you MOM!' when he's done and always has to call SOMEONE, whether it be Sean or PopPop to tell them 'I PEE!'

Little people, little brains. It's so freaking adorable.

For anyone interested, we have some Chip news. Yes, we still sorta love him although the love is deeper some days than others. Most recently, we have learned that he has been sneaking up on to the couch at night after we go to bed. As if the over-priced, Sherpa covered, and down filled dog bed is NOT SOFT ENOUGH! With some super sluething, we have found that about 20 minutes after we go upstairs he stands, stretches and climbs right on up there. The next morning, when Sean's alarm clock goes off we can hear him jump down and go back to his bed. Super sneaky eh? Well, we are on to him and have begun piling baby gates, brooms and benches on the couch at night. The first night we did that, he woke up VERY salty the next day obviously perturbed.

Further more, we invested some money in some aesthetically pleasing backyard gates and fences to keep him in his 'own area' to avoid the trampling of our grass and shrubs. Well, the last two days the dirty rat has dug himself out leaving him food and water-less the rest of the day. How can such a calculated and coniving nighttime dog be such a dumbass during the day? Who's idea was it to get a dog again? Oh, yes. Mine.