We recently had an addition to our family. Ewok (I know you are all shocked by the name!) is now 10 weeks old and a little tiny ball of fluff. With this ball of fluff, there have been more things I find myself smirking as I have to say them to the boys...
BTW, This one's for you Nick J!
"Don't put the leash around your brother's neck."
"Don't put the leash around your neck!"
"Don't put the leash around your neck, tie it to the tree and try running around the tree!!!"
"Don't drag the puppy by the leash."
"Don't pick the puppy up by the leash."
"Don't pick the puppy up by her neck."
"Don't carry the puppy upside down."
"Set the puppy down, don't let go till her feet are on the ground." (Sam is rather good at releasing 2 feet above ground level.)
"If you don't like you nose bitten, don't put it next to the puppy's mouth."
"Don't chew on the puppy's toys."
"Don't put your brother in the dog kennel."
"Don't LOCK your brother in the dog kennel."
"NO BOYS in the dog kennels!"
"The puppy should not take a bath with you."
"Puppies do not take baths in the washing machine."
"Get the dog out of the washing machine, NOW!"
"I think the poor puppy needs a nap." (and so do I!)
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Hungry Hungry Kiddos
My kids may appear small, but don't let that fool you about their appetites! I have NO idea where they pack the food away, but somehow they manage to eat and eat and eat. I can't imagine what our grocery bill will be by the time they are teenagers. YIKES!
On a campout a few weeks back, my long-time friend Caroline was in charge of bringing the hot dogs and brats. She thought she brought extras. My boys fooled her when they ate 2 a piece along with plenty of other sides.
The other evening, Michael was working on a vehicle which left the me and the boys on our own for dinner. Since we had returned from camping earlier that day and were low on groceries, I had no issue caving when Rob requested cereal for dinner.
Here is what they managed to shove into their hollow legs:
Sam: 2 bowls of cereal
1 apple
1 piece of string cheese
and several crackers
Ray: 2 bowls of cereal
1 piece of string cheese
and a half sleeve of crackers (come to think of it, that wasn't very much for Ray; maybe he was too tired from the campout)
Rob: 3 bowls of cereal
2 pieces of string cheese
an apple
and some crackers
I can honestly say they all out ate me, but that really isn't anything new these days...
Well, I think we're out of cereal. And fruit. And granola bars. And orange juice. Guess I better make a trip to the grocery store. Again.
On a campout a few weeks back, my long-time friend Caroline was in charge of bringing the hot dogs and brats. She thought she brought extras. My boys fooled her when they ate 2 a piece along with plenty of other sides.
The other evening, Michael was working on a vehicle which left the me and the boys on our own for dinner. Since we had returned from camping earlier that day and were low on groceries, I had no issue caving when Rob requested cereal for dinner.
Here is what they managed to shove into their hollow legs:
Sam: 2 bowls of cereal
1 apple
1 piece of string cheese
and several crackers
Ray: 2 bowls of cereal
1 piece of string cheese
and a half sleeve of crackers (come to think of it, that wasn't very much for Ray; maybe he was too tired from the campout)
Rob: 3 bowls of cereal
2 pieces of string cheese
an apple
and some crackers
I can honestly say they all out ate me, but that really isn't anything new these days...
Well, I think we're out of cereal. And fruit. And granola bars. And orange juice. Guess I better make a trip to the grocery store. Again.
Monday, July 25, 2011
EVERYone???
We all have memories from childhood of saying things like, "But MOM! EVERYone has one!" To which parents across the world respond, "EVERYone???" While we knew in our heads what our parents were saying, it wasn't what we wanted to hear it it certainly didn't help us move past the feeling we had in our hearts.
Yesterday Ray and Rob were in the swimming pool and I was walking around the yard watering my flowers. As I water petunias near the pool I heard Ray and Rob working on their rendition of Kung Fu Fighting. "You sing the first part and then I'll do the HUHs," Rob instructed his older brother.
"Everyone likes Kung Fu Fighting!" sang Ray. (He had already decided EVERYone was not fighting but more people liked Kung Fu Fighting.
"Huh! Huh!" chimed in Rob.
On and on they went switching up parts and adding actions and jumps into the pool. When they got out Ray was following me around the yard continuing to sing to himself and then began to think aloud.
"Hmm. I don't think EVERYone likes kung fu fighting. 90% like kung fun fighting!"
Pleased with his modification, he continued on with his new lyrics for a minute or two before he must have decided while that was an improvement, maybe that it was an accurate reflection of how people felt about kung fu fighting.
"98% like kung fu fighting!"
I don't know which part of me was more amused and pleased: the mom who was happy to have him think past the idea that of EVERYone else or the math teacher who has thrilled to see him playing around with ideas of mathematical concepts in a real world situation.
Yesterday Ray and Rob were in the swimming pool and I was walking around the yard watering my flowers. As I water petunias near the pool I heard Ray and Rob working on their rendition of Kung Fu Fighting. "You sing the first part and then I'll do the HUHs," Rob instructed his older brother.
"Everyone likes Kung Fu Fighting!" sang Ray. (He had already decided EVERYone was not fighting but more people liked Kung Fu Fighting.
"Huh! Huh!" chimed in Rob.
On and on they went switching up parts and adding actions and jumps into the pool. When they got out Ray was following me around the yard continuing to sing to himself and then began to think aloud.
"Hmm. I don't think EVERYone likes kung fu fighting. 90% like kung fun fighting!"
Pleased with his modification, he continued on with his new lyrics for a minute or two before he must have decided while that was an improvement, maybe that it was an accurate reflection of how people felt about kung fu fighting.
"98% like kung fu fighting!"
I don't know which part of me was more amused and pleased: the mom who was happy to have him think past the idea that of EVERYone else or the math teacher who has thrilled to see him playing around with ideas of mathematical concepts in a real world situation.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
The one in the middle: 24 hours in the life of Rob
Life with Rob can be interesting to say the least. He is most defiantly a middle child. I guess that's bound to happen when you have three kiddos. I think the fact that they are all boys only amplifies that situation at times. It will never cease to amaze me how he can be as good as gold one minute and have his head spinning the next. I am also perplexed by the fact that it seems that if there is screaming, yelling or fighting in our house, Rob is almost always involved in some way, but you can be sure, it is NEVER his fault...
Don't get me wrong, I love the little goose to no end. He makes me smile multiple times a day. I often find myself even laughing out loud at his antics, even when I maybe shouldn't. After all if I didn't laugh, I might cry. Actually, sometimes I do cry; sometimes I'm crying because I'm crying because I'm laughing so hard, and sometimes I'm crying first and then laughing.
I think Michael and I are able to laugh about it more than others might because we are both middle children ourselves. We know what it can feel to sometimes feel like you are lost in the middle with an older sibling who knows more and is allowed to do more and a younger sibling who is inevitably the family's baby in every way. That internal struggle with striving to be older and wiser on one hand, but wanting the attention and coddling of the baby on the other and feeling either way, it doesn't matter because you're always just the one in the middle.
To help illustrate this point let me share with you a few of his attention seeking antics in a 24 hour window...
It began in the morning when Rob decided he needed breakfast and he needed it now!!! This isn't exactly out of the ordinary for Rob. I asked him what he wanted and he choose toast. So I made toast. And he ate toast right? Wrong. He decided he didn't really want toast he wanted something else. Too bad. You picked toast, you got toast. Eat it. Screaming, stomping and a whole fit resulted. I shrugged my shoulders and continued on with my day figuring if he's hungry enough, he'll eat it.
The toast became cold and Rob became hungry. He made his way back to the table and a whole new tantrum erupted when he discovered his toast had not been kept warm for him. His demanding that I warm it up RIGHT NOW of course only resulting in my taking my time to make my way back to the kitchen. In the meantime, Rob grew impatient and decided he could resolve the situation in his own way. Michael entered the kitchen to the smell of something burning in the microwave. When he pulled the now badly burnt toast from the microwave, he saw it still had 7 minutes left in the display. Thank goodness he pulled it when he did! I can only imagine what horrific things might have happened if it continued charring the toast. As it was, our house smelt like burnt toast for days!!!
Due to the unpleasant aroma that filled our house, we made a family outing to a local retail store looking for a deodorizing product among some other household necessities. As we stopped to look at lawn furniture Rob yells out, "I need to pee now! Didn't you hear me? I said my penis is ready to pee!!!"
And when I say yell, I mean yell, volume all the way up. Even though we were at the back of the store, I'm sure some kind little old woman at the front stopped to raise her eyebrows at Rob's outburst.
The day continued and so did Rob, melting over this and that and us trying to muddle through it, making it to bedtime. Ah, sweet, sweet bedtime. Well, at least once you manage to wrangle all the little munchkins into their pj's and hog-tie them to their beds. It seems though, that someone almost always manages to wriggle free and find their way down to our room for one reason or another. Tonight, it was Rob.
"I don't want to go to bed. I'm not tired."
"Too bad. It's bedtime. Go to bed."
"No. I don't want to."
"Robert. It's bedtime. Now."
"No."
I got up off my bed to steer him back down the hall to his own.
"But I have to pee."
"Okay, then go to the bathroom and go to bed."
"But I'm peeing right now!!" Rob declared as he glanced down towards the floor beneath him.
My glance dropped too and sure enough, there was a puddle forming under him.
"Robert! Then stop! You are old enough to know better! Stop peeing and go finish on the toilet!"
After getting him to the bathroom, mopping up the floor and getting Rob cleaned up and in clean pajama's, I tucked him back into bed and went back to my bedroom confident we were done with the boys till the morning.
My confidence was shattered a few minutes later when I heard Rob's distinctive footsteps making their way back down the hall toward the master bedroom.
"Mom, I have an owie. I need a band-aid."
Ray had managed to get quite a scrape on his side climbing a tree earlier in the day. In order to make him more comfortable and protect it while he slept, I put a gauze pad on it and held that in place with roll of self-cling wrap. This apparently left Rob feeling left out. He came hobbling into our room because he had an owie that needed to be wrapped. Hmmmm.... Where exactly is this owie? When asked Rob, pointed to a his foot. Easy enough. I tied a bandana around his seemingly fine foot and sent him back to bed.
"Mom, I have another owie too."
Sigh. Really? I was tired. Physically and emotionally. I knew I had a choice to make. Rob needed attention. I could give it him in the form of yelling or in the form of a few kisses for boo-boo's and bandanas. I laid my bandana collection out on the bed and said, "Okay Rob. These are all the bandanas I have. Where are your owes?"
He pointed. I kissed and tied bandanas. As he scooted down the hall, I smiled at the sight of him with bandanas knotted in various locations on his body. "Hey Rob. Let's go downstairs real quick."
This was one of those moments I wanted to be able to remind myself of years from now. "Say cheese buddy. No wait. Show me your best pout face! That's it!"
"Now go to bed! I don't want to see your cute little face again until the sun is shining!"
Don't get me wrong, I love the little goose to no end. He makes me smile multiple times a day. I often find myself even laughing out loud at his antics, even when I maybe shouldn't. After all if I didn't laugh, I might cry. Actually, sometimes I do cry; sometimes I'm crying because I'm crying because I'm laughing so hard, and sometimes I'm crying first and then laughing.
I think Michael and I are able to laugh about it more than others might because we are both middle children ourselves. We know what it can feel to sometimes feel like you are lost in the middle with an older sibling who knows more and is allowed to do more and a younger sibling who is inevitably the family's baby in every way. That internal struggle with striving to be older and wiser on one hand, but wanting the attention and coddling of the baby on the other and feeling either way, it doesn't matter because you're always just the one in the middle.
To help illustrate this point let me share with you a few of his attention seeking antics in a 24 hour window...
It began in the morning when Rob decided he needed breakfast and he needed it now!!! This isn't exactly out of the ordinary for Rob. I asked him what he wanted and he choose toast. So I made toast. And he ate toast right? Wrong. He decided he didn't really want toast he wanted something else. Too bad. You picked toast, you got toast. Eat it. Screaming, stomping and a whole fit resulted. I shrugged my shoulders and continued on with my day figuring if he's hungry enough, he'll eat it.
The toast became cold and Rob became hungry. He made his way back to the table and a whole new tantrum erupted when he discovered his toast had not been kept warm for him. His demanding that I warm it up RIGHT NOW of course only resulting in my taking my time to make my way back to the kitchen. In the meantime, Rob grew impatient and decided he could resolve the situation in his own way. Michael entered the kitchen to the smell of something burning in the microwave. When he pulled the now badly burnt toast from the microwave, he saw it still had 7 minutes left in the display. Thank goodness he pulled it when he did! I can only imagine what horrific things might have happened if it continued charring the toast. As it was, our house smelt like burnt toast for days!!!
Due to the unpleasant aroma that filled our house, we made a family outing to a local retail store looking for a deodorizing product among some other household necessities. As we stopped to look at lawn furniture Rob yells out, "I need to pee now! Didn't you hear me? I said my penis is ready to pee!!!"
And when I say yell, I mean yell, volume all the way up. Even though we were at the back of the store, I'm sure some kind little old woman at the front stopped to raise her eyebrows at Rob's outburst.
The day continued and so did Rob, melting over this and that and us trying to muddle through it, making it to bedtime. Ah, sweet, sweet bedtime. Well, at least once you manage to wrangle all the little munchkins into their pj's and hog-tie them to their beds. It seems though, that someone almost always manages to wriggle free and find their way down to our room for one reason or another. Tonight, it was Rob.
"I don't want to go to bed. I'm not tired."
"Too bad. It's bedtime. Go to bed."
"No. I don't want to."
"Robert. It's bedtime. Now."
"No."
I got up off my bed to steer him back down the hall to his own.
"But I have to pee."
"Okay, then go to the bathroom and go to bed."
"But I'm peeing right now!!" Rob declared as he glanced down towards the floor beneath him.
My glance dropped too and sure enough, there was a puddle forming under him.
"Robert! Then stop! You are old enough to know better! Stop peeing and go finish on the toilet!"
After getting him to the bathroom, mopping up the floor and getting Rob cleaned up and in clean pajama's, I tucked him back into bed and went back to my bedroom confident we were done with the boys till the morning.
My confidence was shattered a few minutes later when I heard Rob's distinctive footsteps making their way back down the hall toward the master bedroom.
"Mom, I have an owie. I need a band-aid."
Ray had managed to get quite a scrape on his side climbing a tree earlier in the day. In order to make him more comfortable and protect it while he slept, I put a gauze pad on it and held that in place with roll of self-cling wrap. This apparently left Rob feeling left out. He came hobbling into our room because he had an owie that needed to be wrapped. Hmmmm.... Where exactly is this owie? When asked Rob, pointed to a his foot. Easy enough. I tied a bandana around his seemingly fine foot and sent him back to bed.
"Mom, I have another owie too."
Sigh. Really? I was tired. Physically and emotionally. I knew I had a choice to make. Rob needed attention. I could give it him in the form of yelling or in the form of a few kisses for boo-boo's and bandanas. I laid my bandana collection out on the bed and said, "Okay Rob. These are all the bandanas I have. Where are your owes?"
He pointed. I kissed and tied bandanas. As he scooted down the hall, I smiled at the sight of him with bandanas knotted in various locations on his body. "Hey Rob. Let's go downstairs real quick."
This was one of those moments I wanted to be able to remind myself of years from now. "Say cheese buddy. No wait. Show me your best pout face! That's it!"
It's All in the Family
Kudos to my cousins Aimee and Jen who recently graduated high school. I've always been amazed by the fact that they share a birthday and a set of grandparents, but have different moms and dads. Very early on I dubbed them my twin cousins. Both are amazing young women with much to offer the world. God's blessings on them both as they forge into the lives that lay ahead of them.
Jen lived a little further away growing up so I don't have as many stories to tell about her, but Aimee... Aimee lived a mere 40 miles away and I was old enough to babysit her and her brother. During their annual daycare vacation week, I would go up and stay with their family and help out with the kiddos. I have fond memories of making mac and cheese with PBS children's programming in the background, putting Aimee's hair into adorable little piggy tails for the first time and her face lighting up as she flicked them back and forth with her fingers because she liked them so much, playing in the backyard, going for walks, and so much more.
I was preparing my children for our summer vacation plans and mentioned that we would be traveling around the area to attend a few graduations, including Aimee's and Jen's. My boys love try and figure out the connections within our extended family so they immediately tried to start to figure out "who" Aimee belonged to.
"So she's your cousin, right Mom?" asked Ray.
"She is my cousin, which means she's your 2nd cousin."
"So Grandma Cookie and New Grandpa are her grandma and grandpa too?"
"Yup."
"So one of your uncles is her dad!"
"OH! Does she go with the uncle who gave us the four-wheeler?"
"No, that's Uncle Bob. He is Alyssa and Jen's dad."
"Does she go with the uncle who took us to Chuck E. Cheese?"
"No, that was Uncle Dan."
"Is it the uncle who let's us camp in his yard?"
"No, that's Uncle Tony."
"The uncle who gave us the toy motorcycles for Christmas?"
"No, that was Uncle Bob too. He gave you the four wheelers, and train set, and motorcycles, and bunk beds, and swing set. Aimee is Uncle Scott's daughter. Scott and Laurie gave you guys all the games and big bag full of bats and balls and outside toys."
"Oh yeeeeeah! I guess that's why they're called GREEEEAT Uncles!"
I had to laugh. I also had to realize how blessed I am to have an amazing extended family who loves their great nephews so much, even if they do spoil them immensely!!!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
What to write about???
I haven't been as diligent in writing this summer as I had been. Often times, I think I should write a post but can't think of anything note worthy to write about. It's just been a typical plain Jane, ho-hum kind of day. However, when I pause to think about it, even out typical days are rather amusing around the Wx house. Take today for instance.
Our day began with Robby insisting on watching presidential videos on YouTube. The child is obsessed lately with presidents. Good ol' George and of course Log remain his favorites. Although, he is also rather fond of Garfield too. And he is still greatly perplexed as to why Lafayette was never president; Rob is certain he would have been a great one.
Time to get dressed. Rob uses his powers of persuasion to get dressed as George may have. Huh??? How exactly is he going to pull that one off? He comes down in jeans, a white undershirt, and informs me that he will be wearing his jean jacket on top.
"Don't you think that it's a little warm for long pants and a jacket?" I ask.
"George always wears pants and a jacket Mom," is Rob's response.
Whatever.
Next point of insistence: ponytail. Rob is quite adamant that he needs a pony at the base of his neck to complete his replication of George Washington. The problem is that Rob's hair is a bit on the short side in that location. I do my best, but it's not good enough. After several attempts, I secure a rubber band at the base of his neck, but the problem now is that he can't see it. Angling mirrors is to no avail, so we abandon that plan on move on to plan B. A pony on the side of his head.
Whatever.
I manage to shoo the boys outside on the beautiful sunshiny day. Where do they land? In the tent. They haul arm full after arm full of stuffed animals and plastic weaponry out to the tent for their army in case of battle.
Whatever.
When I step into the tent to check on them, it's blistering hot in there. Amidst the scorching heat, I find Ray curled up on the floor of the tent. Can't say I blame him, but what on earth is he doing under not one, but 2 fleece blankets?!?! This is the same child who had to come inside from the deck during lunch because it was too hot outside.
Whatever.
"Time to come back inside guys. It's rest time," I tell them.
"No! We'll just sleep out here."
"I don't think so. It's waaaaay to hot and you need to come in for a bit."
"No! You're not nice! You're not my friend!" is Rob's rebuttal.
"Oh well. I have other friends, I don't need to be your friend. I need to be your mom and sometimes that means telling you to do things you don't want to. Come on. Let's go now."
Guess who won THAT battle?!
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