A sign of boys

You know you have at least one boy running around your house when you reach for the cup of yogurt to find this...

Two lego-sized swords, carefully placed inside.

Paper Pile of Destruction!!!!!!

It's funny how mothering goes through ebbs and flows.  Some days it's soooo easy to feel defeated.  Children are bickering, messes are made, the laundry is piled up high, somebody is not feeling well and is whining, there's not a clean bottle and its nap time, supper is begging to be planned/started and the phone rings at the climax of all the chaos.

But God knows what he's doing.  We're supposed to go through the helpless stages to draw close to and cling to Him.  He also knows our children will survive in spite of our faults and weaknesses.  Witnessing our colossal mess-ups is part of them learning to cling to Him, also.

He also knows us mothers need a little pick-me-up every now and then.  Usually a new mother will notice her infant's first smile when she's at the pinnacle of insomnia-induced frustration.  Or, in my case, me and the boys have a SLAMMIN' good time playing with monster trucks.  This has happened numerous other times.

Back when Nathan went to his first Monster Jam, I got all teary over the opportunity this 2 1/2 year old boy was getting to experience and my husband said, "You might be a redneck if you get teared up over your son going to a monster truck show."  Label me all you want, but Nathan and I have a special bond over these silly little monster trucks.

He LOVES them, which means I will osmotically love them.  Which I do.

So, somehow, I got the bright idea to create a "pile" for the monster trucks to crash through.  The old phone book, which we never use, was still sitting up in the cabinet back from 2010.  So it was willingly sacrificed to create the Monster Truck Paper Pile of Destruction!  Do you know how fun it is for a 3 year old and a 9-month old to rip up paper?  That was entertainment in itself!  We ripped and shredded and shredded and ripped until our fingers were covered in newspaper ink.  Then the shreds were all placed in the middle of the room and we began the monster truck races through the pile.

We ended up creating a paper-pile-destruction competition between the 12 monster trucks he has and Brandon just loved plowing through the middle of it.  Every now and then I had to rescue a paper from becoming a potential gagger in the little one, but for the most part he just enjoyed the sights, sounds and feel of the paper in his hands.

 

 I guess it could have been considered a little intimidating at first, but he got over that quickly.

 

Sister even got in on the action when she got home from school.  Nathan couldn't wait to get home to show her our pile of destruction.

  

Wondering about the clean up at all?  If you give kids a trash bag and tell them to fill it with anything at this age, they consider it fun.  Clean up = no problem :)

This day was one of those re-charges I needed.  It happened at just the right time and allowed me to enjoy our children for a couple more minutes of their precious, precious childhood.

The Phantom Phood Phanatic

This life of raising boys is REALLY different.  One area I've had a hard time adjusting to is the insatiable desire to constantly be eating.  We've done a fairly good job of exposing our kids to different foods, expecting them to try new things, (even if it's just one bite) and encouraging them to sit their wiggly little toddler behinds in the chair when it is eating time.  So when I put food in front of the oldest son, watch him eat a descent amount, but not finish off what I put in front of him, and then hear him ask for more food within 5 minutes, I get a little frustrated.

He is a grazer.  I've been known to set his unfinished plate on the counter for another hour or so and sneak forkfuls of food in his mouth as he's passing.  He barely even knows I'm doing it, really.  He's usually in mid-sentence or asking a question and I'll say, "Take this bite and I'll answer you." :)  Sly Mom trick #34.

So when I am out of commission for about 10 minutes (I must shower every now and then), and Nathan is left free roaming, it's a crap shoot as to what could possibly happen in or to the house.  One fine day, I cautiously stepped out of the shower, listened intently, and there was          S i l e n c e

A quick survey of his favorite and safe spots yielded no 3 year olds.  I finally tracked him down, playing nicely with his Monster trucks in his room.  Whoo!  That was a close one.

But not so fast there, el mommo.  Mommy-radar still wasn't clicking a good signal so I went to go investigate and found this...

After close inspection, this is the report of his well-thought-out actions.  The box of Nilla wafers was unopened.  He must have had trouble opening the bag inside so he found the scissors, which were in the pencil box, which was in the top drawer of the bar/cabinet shown in the top left of the picture.  He carefully cut open the bag, helped himself, and left the evidence for his mother to find.

How can I get mad at this?  Seriously!  He was eager to pick up the cookies and put it all away, with my gentle encouragement.  I remember him eating a good breakfast, though.  So that's why this boys-constantly-eating thing is tough for me.

Oh well.  I'll do my best to not stunt his growth by withholding junk food for him to snack on.  Will he ever notice the bananas on the counter that are easy to open?

The joys of having boys

I remember when I found out our first child was going to be a girl.  I cried.  It never crossed my mind I could be good at being a "girl mommy."  I had/still have no fashion sense.  Wasn't any good at doing hair. Never had a graceful bone in my body and had to/still have to work real hard at being "lady like."

Luckily, Katherine made getting in touch with my "pink side" really easy and enjoyable.  Her love of girly things became my new love and I started to truly enjoy the joys of being a girl.

Then, we found out Nathan was coming.  For some reason, preparing mentally for a boy just came natural to me.

Today, Nathan, Brandon and I got the chance to bond and I tapped into my inner growl.

Nathan, who will be 3 next week, got a GraveDigger Monster Truck for his birthday, that jumps over other cars.  Daddy got to play with the BDay present last night, so today was my turn.

Boy toys are pretty fun.  Something about the planning, designing and engineering involved is enjoyable for me.

Nathan was a great sport.  I think he was thrilled I was on the floor playing with him so he was eager to get up and down many times so this aging momma didn't have to so much.

We decided to test GraveDigger's ability to jump over objects in the hallway.  Nathan was Chief Setup Engineer.  It was his job to select the vehicles to be jumped and set them up in the hallway.

I was the Design Engineer.  It was my job to test GraveDigger and see how far down the hall it traveled before it jumped, then relay that information to the Chief Setup Engineer for correct placement.

I think all Engineers should wear plaid pants with their diapers peeking out the top.

I was also given humbly took on the job of photographer.  To catch GraveDigger in action, you know?  And my what a tough job that was with one hand.

One of the misses.

Oops!

 

Some of the hits!

Check out his excitement.  He's cheering for his ole' mom.

 

 

 

Finally, he resorted to manually jumping over them with his trusty SnakeBite Monster Truck.

 

And Brandon, he was taking notes on how to effectively jump a Monster Truck over a train, trailer and ramp piece.  He was also working on his ladykiller mohawk.  Hard work.

One aspect of raising boys I wasn't fully prepared for was how randomly disgusting they can be.  I know, I know, boys are dirtier, more gross and disgusting.  I knew all that.  But I was more prepared for events like dead snakes being brought to the unsuspecting mom standing in the kitchen, or dirt in places I didn't think was possible, or issues with personal hygiene.  All the typical grossness that comes from having boys.  But I was NOT prepared for this.

Not sure what that is?  That is a little boy upset that his mother is taking a picture of his handiwork on the car window.  The story goes a little something like this...

As mom is driving and looking forward.
Nathan: Mom, I doan like havin' a cold.  It's yucky.
Mom: I know big guy.  Colds are yucky.  That's why me and Daddy are always asking you to wash your hands.
(Had to get the mom advice mixed in with the sympathy I thought he was looking for)

Silence

Nathan: Mom, I sink I need to bwoah my nose.
Mom: Ok, if you'll hold on I'll get you a tissue.  Let me get it out for you.

Rummaging through the console maybe took a whopping 10 seconds.

Nathan:  Oh, nevehmind Mom.  I don need de tissue.  I all done.
Mom: Well, I got you a tissue anyway.  Why don't you just hold it for the next time you need to blow your nose.  Did you have any boogies in there you needed to get out?
Nathan: Yep, they'we out.
Mom: They're out?  Where are they?
Nathan: Here.

Thank goodness I was pulling into the driveway because I'm pretty sure I would have caused a wreck if I wasn't.

Home boy didn't need a tissue, nor did he even need a shirt, his pants or a sock.  He found the closest item to wipe it on that wouldn't mess up his wardrobe but would also leave some neat designs to admire.

Yes folks.  In that picture, right next to my son that successfully grossed me out that day, is the handiwork he artfully created on his car window.  With his boogers.

Let me reiterate, I was NOT ready for this type of grossness.

One more thing I was NOT ready for was little boys' fascination with poop.  I figured they'd want to talk about it, compare notes with each other or even attempt to gas out the house, but NEVER did it ever cross my mind he might want to touch it.  Hence the stakeout location I've secured when there is a #2 coming on.  The other two children will have to take care of themselves because frankly, I'm in there for health and sanitation purposes.  I shudder to think of what he's accomplished the days I wasn't in there to monitor him.

 

What a sweet little boy he is, though.  He loves his family, including the cat.

And his mind is a sponge soaking up everything related to daddy that there could possibly be.

And on most days, he likes his momma.

Differences

These two are so remarkably fascinating to me.  He could turn a Barbie into a hammer and she could make a family out of wrenches.

 I am in total awe of God's perfect design and engineering of us creatures.

Random thoughts

Good news is, my sleeping is back on track and the horrid nightmares have been replaced by my normal wacky dreams. The kind that cause me to awaken and question, "How in the world did I arrive dry after surfing Hawaii Five-O size waves to the elementary school Jim and I toured for Katherine's Kindergarten, and why was I the only one privy to why Scarlett Johansson split with Ryan Reynolds?"

Hey, at least it's back to fairly normal around here. :)

So, after 3 weeks of accumulating LOTS and LOTS of ideas for blogging, the best scenario I have for solving my dilemma of how in the world I'll find the time to write about it all, is to list my random thoughts.

Warning: No rhyme or reason to follow.

Random Thoughts, maternity-style:

1. The Gingerbread House's demise...Yes, she is my child.

2. How is it that little boys can make a gun out of a state of Florida puzzle piece? We've never really approached the subject, and I frankly didn't think we'd need to for another couple of years or so, but how the 2-year-old boy (who doesn't watch anything remotely related to guns) figured out that you hold out the gun, point it at someone and make "uh uh uh uh uh" sounds mimicking an uzi, I'll never understand.

3. My children have both started declaring, "Mama, you wear me out." Hmmm, wonder where they've heard that from?

4. This year, the king and princess in our household got to partake in the heart-warming Father-Daughter dance. At least, I believe she felt like a princess. There is nothing sweeter to me than seeing my husband, the strong, handsome, manly-man he is, treat his little girl like a Lady. He wined and dined her, at Panera, escorted her in her carriage, while opening the doors, twirled her around the dance floor, teaching her the YMCA dance, and stopped by her favorite ice cream joint on the way home, McDonald's.

I admit, I pushed for this outing for me, mostly. I was the one in tears watching him delicately hold her hand, gush about her beauty and sing her praises. He already spends lots of one-on-one time with her all the while inadvertently teaching her what to expect from a man. But, going on a date with a daddy who cherishes you instills a confidence in you that can't be measured or equaled. She thinks he has hung the moon, and he reciprocates by adoring her. I look forward to the day that every man must try and measure up to the standard her daddy has set, which from my own experience with her daddy, will be pretty dang hard. I pray she'll always be a daddy's girl.

5. We've entered the not-so-fun world of THREE CAR SEATS IN THE BACK ROW. I thought it best to hike my off-balanced self up into the attic the night Jim and Little Lady were off cuttin' the rug and get the baby gear down. There were a couple of moments while sitting up there looking down at Nathan scooting the ladder further out of my chubby toes reach, that I thought I might be stranded up there, without a phone, for at least another hour before Fred & Ginger came home, out of shouting range of any neighbors, and it made my heart skip a beat. But, he didn't push it too far, and I was successful and safe at getting it all down, knowing full well that I'd be in trouble from the "Bossman" for even trying to do all that by myself, in my condition and all.

So that night, because I had a great nap earlier and everyone else was asleep (that's when I get most of my work done 'round here), I attempted to install 3 car seats in the back of a 2007 Nissan Murano. Just in case you didn't know what the back seat of a 2007 Nissan Murano looks like, I'll fill you in... Yeah, you're right, doesn't look that roomy. BECAUSE IT'S NOT! The unanimous decision was made to put the oldest, more mature child (translation: the one that hits the least), in the middle to buffer the infant from Captain Destructo. So after wrangling/fighting with/contorting my 6-month pregnant body into uncomfortable positions (who am I kidding, sitting & lying down is uncomfortable half the time), I finally got all three back there. Whoo Hoo!

This car is nearly paid off and I'll be d@#$%d if we're getting another extended payment. Those car seats were going to fit, even if I had to get out the chainsaw. But luckily, I didn't have to wake the neighbors and all three car seats stayed intact.

So the next day, Katherine eagerly got in the car to try out her new Captain's Chair position. It was the day for the annual Boy Scout spaghetti dinner fundraiser, so daddy put in his volunteer hours down south, and me and the kiddos headed off to church on our own. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but daddy ended up not driving the car at all for that entire week and I was the one that realized the car seats were not going to work.

I had managed to combine my OCD tendencies with my type A personality and make all the seats fit so well that Katherine was unable to fasten her own seat belt. Her little hand couldn't fit in between the sardine-packed seats, so I got to lean over the infant car seat, pry it back and fasten her seat belt for her. Fun times!

My husband, who seems to have the wisdom of Solomon at times, after a week of listening to the woes of seat belt drama, calmly suggested I remove the infant car seat and put the other ones back the way they were. We would figure out something soon.

It was that night, I had what I thought was a heaven-sent epiphany: all we needed was a seat belt extender! I spent hours on line looking up the Murano handbook, reading it's policy on adding an extender to the back seat, locating Nissan parts, pricing them and emailing the parts department questions. The next day, I called our local dealer and they offered to supply us one, for FREE! Hot dog, thank you Jesus! You rock!

In two days, Nathan and I made the trek in the rain to go pick up the extender. But, we were in Jim's truck because he took the car to get the brakes replaced. Bad idea, Kel. Didn't realize until he got home that the extender only worked in the front seat. Not the back seat at all! Nada. Nothing. Can't even do a safety violation loop-ti-loop and rig something to work.

It's at times like these that I feel like I might have been a sailor in one of my past lives. Words spew forth out of my mouth that are normally foreign to me, but after much frustration, they flow out like we're best friends and visit every day with each other.

I'm at a loss. Our next option is to visit the junk yard, cut out a back seat belt and sew an extension myself. That is one place this gal from Sparr can say I have never visited and nor do I feel comfortable going there. I don't speak junk yard lingo, although maybe my sailor tendencies might come in handy. Who knows?

So, like the sands through the hour glass, so are the Days of Our Lives...

6. I've got the answer for our seat belt problems. Jim teases me about buying a 1985 Suburban or a 15-passenger van. I'm opting for the van. Preferably one with a faded, dull white paint job so as to make it easier for me and the kids to paint it.

Katherine has already declared that she wants a princess/castle scene painted on her side and she said Nathan can have Monster trucks and construction equipment painted on his side. Abstract kid-style painting, nothing fancy. Maybe we could even find some dollar store wall appliques. Sweet.

I'm hoping to add some flowers, a green pasture and possibly a rainbow on the hood. Something pretty that I can look at while driving down the road. Something to take my mind off the lack of air conditioning and reminiscing about how nice our previous car was.

Oh, we need vinyl seats and vinyl flooring also. That way, cleaning up spills and vomit can easily be taken care of by hosing it out. It really is a win-win situation. We save on another year's worth of payments, our kids have enough room to each have their own basket of toys within arm's reach and the whole world would know where we are at all times. Better than a tracking device, really. And truly, most anything we got after that would be an improvement. Let's lower the standard a little bit so all we can see is up.

7. Katherine felt this was very important to document, so here goes.

Here, she's polishing her photography skills. Working on centering.

She's got the camera rotation thing down pat.

And she's even sporting the zoom. Not bad girl.
It wasn't long after this photo session that Nathan woke up and destroyed her masterpiece. Ugh, little brothers.

8. I have a theory on why Nathan will wake up in the middle of the night asking us to rub his feet. He moans and groans making it very believable that he is genuinely in pain. It goes like this...

Part 1: I remember having horrible growing pains in my knees. They ached and ached and the only relief I could find to get back to sleep was to contort one of my legs up underneath my pillow, lay my pillow on my leg calves and sleep like that. Something about twisting my knees this way took the pressure off and I could sleep.

Part 2: Jim has size 14 feet.

Part 1 + Part 2 = Nathan has growing pains in his feet.

Better get used to specialty shoe shopping little guy.

9. No, I did not temporarily lose my mind. I did think it would be cool for our kids to enjoy some Florida snow, a.k.a. shredder paper. Keeping it in the bathtub was my answer to a quick clean up. They loved it until it got scratchy.


10. I've been wanting to post this quote for a long time. Don't have any idea who this guy is, nor do I feel like Google-ing him.

"We obsess about the future and we get anxious, because anxiety, after all, is simply living out the future before it gets here. We must renounce our sinful desire to know the future and to be in control. We are not gods. We walk by faith, not by sight. We risk because God does not risk. We walk into the future in God-glorifying confidence, not because hte future is known to us but because it is known to God. And that's all we need to know. Worry about the future is not simply a character tic, it is the sin of unbelief, an indication that our hearts are not resting in the promises of God." Kevin DeYoung

Well said, Kevin. I've had this quote on my fridge for over a year now. Nice little reminder I say.

11. Katherine and I attended an official Tea Party with real china tea sets, a live 3-piece string band and little girls running around dressed up in princess outfits and hats. Too cute.
12. Every pregnancy of mine brings on the same things: Maxine-like attitude and major nesting syndrome. We are fortunate enough to have a 4-bedroom house, but not too many people know it. The 4th bedroom has been treated like a storage facility/garage rather than a bedroom for 8 years, until now. I have been working my tail off to clear out the final frontier of our house. This was the last room to be conquered. Every single room in our house has been re-floored, painted, or remodeled in some way, except this one. It has been the one to receive the "stuff" we've been hanging on to for - who knows why. Some of it is memorabilia, but most of it is borderline hoardish. If we haven't used it in 5 years, why are we keeping it?

So, an organizer worth their weight in organizing materials knows that all the stuff to be cleaned out either has to go somewhere else in the house, donated or it's trashed. I knew that the majority of stuff in there was mine, so "the process" began. I first cleaned out our closet, then Katherine's, then the hall closet, Nathan's closet, the foyer closet and finally the side shed. There is an astonishing amount of stuff piled up in our dining room, waiting for the yard sale next week.

The 4th bedroom and closet are cleaned out and ready for painting. (as I pat myself on the back)

One way all this was possible was a sweet trip Jim took with the kids. His brother R invited them to go fishing. I wouldn't have considered it a relaxing trip, but Jim's tolerance level is much different than mine and he knew that the side shed was my goal for that Saturday. Fishing with 3 pre-schoolers is a challenge, but cleaning out that side shed with two of them running around would have been enough to push me over the edge. Thank you daddy, for your sacrifice. (I'm pretty sure he had more fun fishing than helping me, though.)
Nathan on his best behavior.
13. One of Nathan's presents for Christmas was tickets to Monster Jam. He is an official Monster truck fan and so carefully points out while I'm driving down the road, "Dat monser twuck gonna cwash ovuh dose caws and smash 'em, Mama!" The trip was cut short because of crazy cold temperatures in Tampa. But he did make it to half-time and declared, "Dada, I cold. I wanna go home and git in da baf." His favorite truck is "Gavedigger."

Jim said you know your mom is a redneck at heart when she tears up over her toddler "getting to experience a Monster Jam." I can't help it.

14. Katherine and I got to see the Rockettes before Christmas and a Beauty and the Beast play. The Rockettes seriously made me want to lose some weight and take a dance class and the B&B play convinced me that if only I had less fear of being on stage and a better body, I would have been a great actress. Just ask my parents! I thought so back when I was 7 and seriously think I could pull it off. Oh well, my kids will have to suffice for an audience.

15. We all took a family trip to the local tractor pull. You know who LOVED it!
And Jim's duplicate in the sleeping department managed to FALL ASLEEP during the tractor pull, that was housed under a metal roof! Seriously! She is so his child. I'm suffering from major insomnia for a couple of months and she's able to fall asleep during a tractor pull. Unbelievable, I swear.
Thankfully, I've updated from months worth of falling behind.