Water, Water Everywhere

Last night I went to bed with a headache early in the evening and my wonderful (seriously the most wonderful man you can imagine) husband put the kids to bed by himself.  Now, although my husband is Wonderman, he does sometime overlook small details.  Like remembering to put a diaper on the 4 year old before bed.  Or pajamas.  Whatever - the children got put safely in bed and that was the real triumph.  Thus the conversation I had with my four year old this morning: 

Sam, calling from the bathroom, "I'm done going potty!" 
Me, stumbling out of bed and making my way down the hallway, "Coming."
I enter the bathroom and notice that Sam is wearing the shirt he wore yesterday as he sits on the toilet.  This strikes me as odd and I wonder if he tried to dress himself before coming in the bathroom.  Then I look on the floor and see pants and underwear that look really dampish.  Things are starting to click.  This is not good.  I gingerly pick up the soiled pants with a finger thumb combination.  Definitely wet.  I look at Sam. 
"Why are your pants wet?" 
Sam, not missing a beat, goes into full blame mode, "Joe dumped water in them."  I look at the pants, the faucet, the floor to see if this assertion can be backed by solid evidence of a water attack.  There are no signs of foul play. 
"What do you mean, Joe dumped water in them?  Why would he do that?"
"He did it last night."  I wrinkle my nose and bring the wet clothes a bit closer.  Nope.  That is definitely a urine smell.  What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a lie. 
"No Sam, you must have had an accident." Though he continues to protest his innocence, I take in all the evidence.  No diaper.  Clothes from night before.  Husband put children to bed.  Clearly there will be more to clean.  I start the bathwater and head to the bedroom and start to dismantle the wet sheets, snugglies, blankets, etc.  As I head downstairs to the laundry room I am still thankful for my husband who took care of it all last night.  No joke.  Small price to pay when you feel like crap.  Feel bad for Sam though - sounds like a wet night.

Dinnertime

Our dinner conversation tonight:
Josh:  Pine needles taste kind of minty when you bite them. 
Me:  Don't be eating anything unless you know it is safe to eat.  Are pine trees safe to eat? (Look at husband for assistance then back to Josh)  Why would you want to eat a pine tree? 

(Several moments pass as we eat and visit)

Josh:  It actually tastes pretty good.
Me:  (thinking he is referring to the chicken and veggie stir fry for dinner that he was skeptical about eating)  Aw, Josh that's really nice.  I am glad that you like it.
Josh:  Not the dinner Mom, the pine needles. 
Me:  (deflated)  Oh. 

I really shouldn't be surprised, I guess.  Pass the pine needles please...

Grateful for Innocence...

I was putting the sunscreen on Joe this summer as we prepared to go down to the lake and swim.  Joe, being 5 at the time, was completely unaware of privacy and what that all entails and said to me, as I leaned over to smear some sunscreen on his legs, "Hey!  I can see those bumps real good when you bend over!"  Oh, my.  Sunscreen the boys before I put on my "bumps" revealing swimsuit next time.  Got it.  From the mouths of babes...

So Not Appropriate

So Sam met Lily this weekend.  Lily is his Great Uncle Tom's new puggle (half pug and half poodle) puppy.  Lily licked Sam right on his face.  Not to be outdone, Sam grinned and licked her right back on her face.  Yuck.  Germs?  Pshaw.  Note to child...licking is not an appropriate greeting. 

Ay, Ay, Ay

Me:  "My Ipod is almost dead - I need to take it in and charge it."
Josh:  "You mean your iphone." 
Me:  "No, Dad has an iphone.  I have an ipod and then we have the ipad...but I'm talking about the ipod right now." 
Josh:  "iphone, ipad, ipod, i, i, i, i, i."

Who Knew How Funny Our 19th President Was?

Apparently the name "Rutherford" is rather amusing to little children.  We were studying the Presidents and going through them and my kids just thought everything was funny today.  They were at that crack up stage where you get the giggles and just can't stop laughing.  It was hard because it was starting to get me too and I am, of course, trying to teach a serious lesson on the leaders of our country.  Ah, homeschool...

Happy Birthday Sam!!!

Today was Sam's (aka Heathcliff's) birthday.  Today he was "Heathcliff" all day.  Remember the cartoon about the cat from the 80's?  Netflicks has reintroduced this gem to my boys and it's the new fun show.  He had lots of fun and enjoyed his special day.  One of my favorite moments was when he found the picture that Dad had printed out of Heathcliff so I could sketch it on the cake in frosting and this big surprised look popped into his eyes as he exclaimed, "It's a picture of ME!"  That is committment to a role.  He IS Heathcliff today.  Oh, and another thing to note - yes, his birthday cake was pink for another year.  Pink.  All pink.  Seriously.  Good thing he loved the hot wheels, legos, Thor costume, and remote control trucks he got this year.  And I am soooooo glad that at least Heathcliff is a boy cat.

Joe.

Ever since way back on Mother's Day, if Joe wakes up before me, he tries to make me breakfast in bed.  He attempts to find things that are "nutritious."  This is, of course, limited to what he is allowed to get into without making a mess so I have had some interesting breakfast combinations.  I think that my favorite has been a wrapped cheese slice with some dried cranberries on the side.  Oh, and I think that he also included goldfish crackers on that one.  This morning he brought me a yogurt.  Sometimes I get raisins.  Or dried cherries and blueberries.  Banana.  Whatever "nutritious" items he can find easily in the kitchen.  :)  Such a sweet love.  Such a heart to give.  Always trying to bless others.  Thank you God, for Joe. 

Who Are You Again?

Sam has decided to try on some new identities.  So far his favorites seem to be Star Child (a female character from She-Ra of all things), and Eliot (the dragon in Pete's Dragon).  Although sometimes he is Blue Ninja and once in a while Buzz Lightyear.  When he is Eliot he speaks in dragon "Do, do, do-do, do" just like in the movie.  Dragon is a difficult language to translate.  He is a handful, but oh, so sweet.  What a love!

Common Sense?

I actually had to tell the 3 year old today that it is not acceptable behavior to lick his baby sister's hair.  Shouldn't this be obvious to everyone? 

Colds

Everyone is sick again.  Josh (8) approached me the other morning with the following statement, "Mom, we have a problem...my nose has been drooling all night."  I know baby.  I'm sorry.  Sam (3) keeps telling me that his nose is "soggy."  It is a miracle that I haven't caught it yet.  Oh, and just because it was funny...during the storm we had a couple of days ago Sam informed me that the storm was so bad that maybe a tomato was coming!  It was so difficult not to laugh...bruchetta, marinara, gazpacho, oh my!

Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

Dad came home from Singapore with a knowledge of the children's Chinese birth years.  I am the year of the snake.  Surprised?  Anyway, Joe (age 5) ended up with the year of the rooster...

Joe raises one eyebrow, puzzled.  "So I have the powers of a rooster?"

Dad explains that it doesn't work that way but Joe is not convinced and tries out a tentative, "Cock-a-doodle-doo?" just to see if his newfound "powers" are functioning.  :)

No Damsels in Distress for this Knight

My eight year old and I were recently talking about the Knights in Shining Armor/Damsels in Distress theme of many storybooks.  I was rolling  (on the inside of course.)

Josh:  "I don't want a girl like that.  If I get married, I want a girl who can take care of herself.  She will need to because we are going to live in the jungle, and I don't want to always have to be saving her and stuff."   

Note to future daughter-in-law:  Better be starting those karate and target shooting lessons now. 

Detox

Imagine going from having 4-6 people doting over you and taking care of you, having yummy ice creams, cookies and treats, staying up too late and having no responsibilities whatsoever to having 1 slightly cranky lady monitoring your playtime, boring meals (haven't been shopping yet since our return) and immediate immersion into schoolwork and "gasp" housework.  We are definitely going through grandparent detox. 

Grandparent detox is hard all around.  It's hard for the grandparents.  It's hard for the kids and it is hard for the parents of the kids.  It takes days to return to normal.  LONG days.  Can I have a spring break?  Please? 

Early Introduction to the Feminine Mystique

After a talk with daddy about never talking to women about their weight, Josh mistakenly told me that the lady driving the car next to us was very old.  I proceeded to inform him of his mistake.

"Josh, honey, you should never say a woman is old.  It isn't nice to talk about a woman's age."

A huge sigh, "How many rules are there for women?!"  Oh, babe.  If only you knew. 

Oh, he's a monkey alright

You know that song, "10 Little Monkeys?"  I've got one.  Tonight, he is leaning over the rail of his bed, standing up (probably jumping) and goes right over the top of it.  Ends up with a bloody nose, a fat lip and a grumpy mom because I was nursing the baby at the time and he was supposed to be in bed going to sleep.  God must have made three year olds cute so that they would live to be four.

Homeschool

Josh, age 8, told me today that school for him is like the Babylonian captivity of the Jews.  Gee, thanks hon.  Glad to be able to help you learn and grow.  :)  Sometimes it feels like that for me, too, though I didn't inform him of this fact. 

Fetch - not just for puppies

Seriously, Sam, the three year old, looked at the baby crawling on the floor, held her baby spoon aloft and called to her just like a puppy, "Here girl, here girl!" Then after getting her attention, proceeded to chuck the plastic spoon across the living room like a stick and proudly yelled, "Go get it girl!"  No.  My sweet baby girl is not going to be taught to play fetch.  Mama's putting her foot down on this one. 

Death by Flowers

We are learning the U.S. Presidents for our homeschool history.  Each day we go through them one by one, starting with Washington.  I require the kids to know the President's name and at least one relevant fact about that President.  Today Joe, the five year old, proudly informed me that William H. Harrison died in office.  "How did he die?" I asked him.  Without hesitation he answered, "Petunia." 

I am quick to respond because of course, I speak "child speak."  "Do you mean pneumonia?" 

"Um, yeah.  Pneumonia."

Petunia, pneumonia, whatever.  Better watch those flowers. 

The Three Foot Mystery

Can anyone explain to me why, when we have two stories of house to play in, my children insist on playing within three feet of each other, all the while complaining about the other ones touching them or generally just irritating each other to pieces.  S  P  R  E  A  D     O  U  T, for crying out loud. 

Guilt Trips

The three year old is really working it - now often when he gets disciplined he responds with a teary, "You broke my heart!"  How do they learn this so early?  Psychology major in the making?

Family Portraits

You know when your 8 year old draws a family picture and you have a cartoon bubble above your head that says, "Go to time out Joe!" that you have problems.  Seriously. 

Gruesome or Just Boy Stuff?

So, as I was cleaning up the floor from the millionth mess of the day today I noticed a dried, red drop on the pergo.  As I examined further, I saw a few more drops and I realized in horror that I was actually following a trail of blood!  A terrifying mystery?  I called all three boys to the crime scene. 

"What is this?" I asked each of them, pointing accusatorily at the floor.  Blank looks on their faces. 
"It's blood!"  I say dramatically.  Blank. 
"Blood?"  one of them asks, puzzled.
"Yes, blood," I respond and begin checking them over.  No telltale bloody nose, no cut on the foot.  "Where did the blood come from?" Still blank. 
"Have any of you been bleeding?  Are you okay?  Why didn't anyone tell mommy?"  Nothing.  Then realization begins to dawn on the three year old.  I can see it in his eyes and I focus my questioning on him.
"Sam, are you bleeding?" 
"No, mommy."
"Are you sure?"
"I was bleeding."
"Where did you get hurt?"  Mumbles incoherently and gestures in the general direction of his lip.  Mystery solved.  He apparently bumped his lip, though there is no real sign of trauma and he didn't feel like it was important enough even to come get a magic mommy kiss.  Ahhhh.  It all seems to be okay now.  It's just boy stuff.   

And in this Corner...

My children look as if they have been in a boxing match.  The five year old has a goose egg on his forehead and the three year old has a big cut on his bottom lip.  What happened?  Did they get in a fight?  No.  They are boys.  They simply happened to themselves.  "Cut on the Bottom Lip" didn't realize his own strength when he banged his head on the floor.  You would think that he might have considered that smashing his face into the pergo flooring would be uncomfortable.  "Goose Egg" had a close encounter with the wall.  Depth perception sweetie.  Poor kids.  ARGH. 

The Perpetual Time Out

I don't know what the deal was today, but most of the day my children took turns spending it in the time out corner.  Often, multiple corners were in use at the same time.  Finally I banished them all to quiet reading on the couch.  For a solid two minutes there was a blissful silence in my home.  Then it began again.  "Mom, Sam is shooting (with a gun made solely of his own hand) at me!"  "His foot is touching mine!"  (Mom internally bangs head on the floor repeatedly.)  Seriously?