If you read my blog from time to time, you may have picked up on certain patterns. One of those being that dinner time can occasionally be a bit difficult at my house. I always vowed that I would raise children who eat what was on the table or go hungry, and for the most part we stick to that philosophy, but it does lead to some interesting dining experiences.
You may recall the problem with pasta back in May 2011. If not, you should check it out here in this blog entry: Power Play. There's also the entry about how I overcame that, What's for Dinner? And just this week about how I made one heck of a Chicken Alfredo: The Best Dinner.
Well this is a story about the leftovers from that very best dinner...
"What would you like for lunch? A sandwich, the pizza from last night, or some of the pasta we had the other night?"
"WAIT! Did you say pasta?!?!" Oh boy! Here goes Robby again.
"Yes, Rob I said pasta. Pasta is another word for noodles. All noodles are pasta. Get over it already. you love noodles. Mac and cheese, chicken Alfredo, spaghetti, it's all pasta."
"But I don't like pasta!" Rob adamantly protested. Great, way to go Billie Jo! Ruin a slew of dinner ideas for the kid.
"Fine, would you feel better about it if I just said noodles?"
"Yes." Whew, what a relief!
"Okay then. Do you want some of the noodles with chicken and peas from the other night?"
"Yes please."
Oh my.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
The Best Dinner
The other evening, dinner time was looming. The boys were hungry, the baby was hungry, and I was tired. So I headed to the pantry and found a jar of Alfredo sauce, opened the freezer and pulled out some chicken that I had cooked and cut in advanced, and put on a pot of water to boil some noodles. I mixed it all together, added some peas, and viola! Chicken Alfredo was on the table. I wasn't 100% sure how this would go over given the fact that the last time I made it, Rob refused to even take a bite. So when Rob asked what it was, I knew better than to use the common name,, "chicken, peas and noodles," I said.
"Yum!" Rob enthusiastically replied.
Alright then. Ray and Rob ate with must enthusiasm and eventually Ray declared, "This is probably the best meal we've had since the baby's been born!"
"Thanks," I think. Never mind the home cooked meals I've made, sometimes you just have to take a compliment when you can.
And for those of you wondering about Sam, don't worry, he still kept the whine with dinner going refusing to try his food until the rest of us where long gone from the table. He cleaned his plate while I washed dishes. He did like it, he just wanted to make sure our dinner time wasn't enjoyable. ;)
"Yum!" Rob enthusiastically replied.
Alright then. Ray and Rob ate with must enthusiasm and eventually Ray declared, "This is probably the best meal we've had since the baby's been born!"
"Thanks," I think. Never mind the home cooked meals I've made, sometimes you just have to take a compliment when you can.
And for those of you wondering about Sam, don't worry, he still kept the whine with dinner going refusing to try his food until the rest of us where long gone from the table. He cleaned his plate while I washed dishes. He did like it, he just wanted to make sure our dinner time wasn't enjoyable. ;)
Monday, December 10, 2012
Chuck Norris
The infant originally named Theodore John, also known as Teddy Roosevelt Bridge (or TRB), has recently undergone yet another name change. At least accordingly to big brother Sam. (This child is going to have some major identity issues is this keeps up!) His newest name is, drum roll please, Chuck Norris! Why you ask? I have not a clue, go ask Sam.
Back a week or so ago after this name change, Sam was very curious to take a peek behind "Chuck's" diaper. I think he was anxious to check and make sure the baby had been neglected like myself and did in fact have a penis. As I was changing a diaper Sam peered over to catch his glimpse, gently rubbed the baby's head and in his best soothing voice said:
"Oh, it's okay that your penis is tiny Chuck Norris. It will grow, I promise."
I'm not so sure the real Chuck Norris would approve.
Back a week or so ago after this name change, Sam was very curious to take a peek behind "Chuck's" diaper. I think he was anxious to check and make sure the baby had been neglected like myself and did in fact have a penis. As I was changing a diaper Sam peered over to catch his glimpse, gently rubbed the baby's head and in his best soothing voice said:
"Oh, it's okay that your penis is tiny Chuck Norris. It will grow, I promise."
I'm not so sure the real Chuck Norris would approve.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Put a Bow on It
Robby doesn't just like babies, he LOVES babies. If there is a baby around, he is right there cooing and ohing and ahhing. Given that he is always at his side to hand him a toy, play with him, and even share food with, it was not to surprising when "Wobby" was one of his daycare baby buddies spoke. So you can about imagine how he is with a baby brother of his own. We are having to constantly remind him to let Theo sleep, to not pick up him constantly, to get off of him in his car seat, etc.
Just this morning I was peeling Robby off of the baby who was buckled in his car seat ready to go when Ray had one his stroke of brilliance.
"Robby, when we grow up, I'm going to adopt a baby, put a bow on his head, and put him under the Christmas tree for you cause you love babies so much."
"Okay!" Robby liked that Christmas idea.
"Um, I don't think that's going to work," I interjected.
"Why?" they both asked.
"Well, because babies aren't puppies. You can't just adopt one, and you don't just give them away to other people like that."
"What do you mean?"
"To adopt, people need to meet you and learn all about you to make sure you will be a good parent. They come to your house to make sure it will be safe. It can take a long time. And they aren't going to let you adopt if you are planning to turn around and give the baby away."
"Oh," they seem disappointed, but seem to understand.
"Well, then, maybe my wife will have 2 boys and then she'll let you have one of those," Ray decided.
"Cool," said Rob.
"Good luck with that boys," I state. I'm not thinking it will work out quite that way. ;)
Just this morning I was peeling Robby off of the baby who was buckled in his car seat ready to go when Ray had one his stroke of brilliance.
"Robby, when we grow up, I'm going to adopt a baby, put a bow on his head, and put him under the Christmas tree for you cause you love babies so much."
"Okay!" Robby liked that Christmas idea.
"Um, I don't think that's going to work," I interjected.
"Why?" they both asked.
"Well, because babies aren't puppies. You can't just adopt one, and you don't just give them away to other people like that."
"What do you mean?"
"To adopt, people need to meet you and learn all about you to make sure you will be a good parent. They come to your house to make sure it will be safe. It can take a long time. And they aren't going to let you adopt if you are planning to turn around and give the baby away."
"Oh," they seem disappointed, but seem to understand.
"Well, then, maybe my wife will have 2 boys and then she'll let you have one of those," Ray decided.
"Cool," said Rob.
"Good luck with that boys," I state. I'm not thinking it will work out quite that way. ;)
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
You are SOOOO Jealous!
Here is a conversation I overheard at bedtime the other night.
"Sam, you need to go in and use the bathroom. It's time for jammies."
"I don't want to wear jammies, I want to wear my clothes." (This has been his big kick lately, and frankly, some things aren't worth fighting over."
"Fine, you can wear your clothes to bed, but you still need to go potty and put on a pull up."
"I don't want to."
"Well, you need to. Come on Sam."
"But Daddy, I don't want to sit down. I want to stand up."
"Okay then, stand up and go potty."
"Look Daddy, I'm standing up." Pause. "You are sooooo jealous right now."
Hmmm, jealous of what I'm not sure, but oh, that kid is funny.
"Sam, you need to go in and use the bathroom. It's time for jammies."
"I don't want to wear jammies, I want to wear my clothes." (This has been his big kick lately, and frankly, some things aren't worth fighting over."
"Fine, you can wear your clothes to bed, but you still need to go potty and put on a pull up."
"I don't want to."
"Well, you need to. Come on Sam."
"But Daddy, I don't want to sit down. I want to stand up."
"Okay then, stand up and go potty."
"Look Daddy, I'm standing up." Pause. "You are sooooo jealous right now."
Hmmm, jealous of what I'm not sure, but oh, that kid is funny.
Monday, December 3, 2012
More Body Art
As you may remember from a previous post, Sam loves to draw and when he draws, he likes to be anatomically correct.
"This is me." He draw a basic body.
"This is my penis." He adds between the legs.
"Now I need underwear." Whew, I guess I'm thankful my talks about modesty are sinking in even if it's a tiny bit.
"Now my pants."
The other day, Sam decided to draw a portrait of me. I was little curious what it might look like. I was concerned it my have several, ah-hem, well, elbows added to it.
"This is you Mommy. I didn't give it a penis, because you are a mommy and you don't have one, but I did give it big muscles cause you are super strong!" Sam said as he showed my my portrait with one hand and flexed his other arm. Man, I love that kid (even if he does drive me bonkers sometimes).
"This is me." He draw a basic body.
"This is my penis." He adds between the legs.
"Now I need underwear." Whew, I guess I'm thankful my talks about modesty are sinking in even if it's a tiny bit.
"Now my pants."
The other day, Sam decided to draw a portrait of me. I was little curious what it might look like. I was concerned it my have several, ah-hem, well, elbows added to it.
"This is you Mommy. I didn't give it a penis, because you are a mommy and you don't have one, but I did give it big muscles cause you are super strong!" Sam said as he showed my my portrait with one hand and flexed his other arm. Man, I love that kid (even if he does drive me bonkers sometimes).
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
It's All in the Name
Robby is really into writing his name right now. He is very proud that has finally mastered the "r", knows the right way to make a "b", how to do that tricky y. "Robby" he writes at any chance he has. We see it on paper after paper, all over his school folder, he wants to write his own name tags, and any other opportunity he has.
A few weeks back, Ray had found it humorous to write "Wash Me" on the back of the Yukon. This irritates Michael to no end. The boys and I got to hear all about how not only does it look stupid, it also scratches the paint.
I washed the Yukon, but it is a dark color, and in no time at all, there was a nice layer of dust on it again. As we were climbing out at church the other day, I happened to notice there were more letters fingered into the dust.
"Hey, guys, who wrote on the Yukon?"
"Not me," "I didn't do it," quickly responded two innocent faced little boys. One of the two, however, looked a little too wide-eyed and innocent. You, know "the cat who just swallowed the canary" kind of look.
"Really? Are you sure about that Rob? It looks like it says R-o-b-b-y. Why would someone else write your name on our truck?"
Gulp. Smirk.
Maybe next time he'll at least think to write something else. If he's really smart, he'll eventually come up with writing his brother's name. But I'm not about to offer that suggestion.
A few weeks back, Ray had found it humorous to write "Wash Me" on the back of the Yukon. This irritates Michael to no end. The boys and I got to hear all about how not only does it look stupid, it also scratches the paint.
I washed the Yukon, but it is a dark color, and in no time at all, there was a nice layer of dust on it again. As we were climbing out at church the other day, I happened to notice there were more letters fingered into the dust.
"Hey, guys, who wrote on the Yukon?"
"Not me," "I didn't do it," quickly responded two innocent faced little boys. One of the two, however, looked a little too wide-eyed and innocent. You, know "the cat who just swallowed the canary" kind of look.
"Really? Are you sure about that Rob? It looks like it says R-o-b-b-y. Why would someone else write your name on our truck?"
Gulp. Smirk.
Maybe next time he'll at least think to write something else. If he's really smart, he'll eventually come up with writing his brother's name. But I'm not about to offer that suggestion.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Sam's Art
Sam loves to draw. He draws just about anywhere and on anything and of a large array of subjects. Here are 3 examples to better "illustrate" my point, (Get it??? ;) )
1) Wall Art
Sam is our 3rd child and interestingly enough, we've never had much of an issue with writing on things other than paper. I'm sure there's been the occasional scribble on the table and such, but nothing too memorable. That must be why Robby looked horrified the other day when he came flying into my bedroom to let me know that Sam had a pen. So??? And he's drawing! Okay... ALL OVER THE WALL! When I went to investigate, sure enough, there sat Sam, pen in hand, with quite the "mural" if you will all over the bathroom floor.
Just a week or so before that, I had gone to look for an all to quiet Sam when I found him with a pencil, no paper, and a large smile. As I looked more closely, I saw that he had scribbled back and forth across our bamboo floor to cover approximently 2 foot by 8 foot of flooring.
On both occasions, I sternly spoke with Sam and transformed the prideful artist into a remorseful "I'll only color on paper now Mommy" little boy. More importantly, I gave him a rag and made him help me scrub his "art" away. Surely 1 of these times the lesson will be learned, right???
2) Dr. Office Art
At a recent trip to our family doctor, Sam ran out of paper. No problem! Dr. Holtz had a solution. Sam, Robby, and Dr. Holtz proceeded to cover the paper on the exam table with an array of portraits. Dr. Holtz was impressed by the number of body parts Sam added to his figures. Not only does he get a head/body, arms, legs, face etc. He also tends to add a little more... "This is me. This is my penis. Now I need underwear, and now pants," says Sam as he adds layers to his portrait.
3) Body Art
As I mentioned above, Sam is very, um, well, detailed in his drawings and likes to make sure they are, well, I guess, accurate. That isn't exactly what I was referring to here though by body art. No, Sam actually likes to draw on his body. The other day he walked around with a purple mark on his forehead all day because he had decided to "make the sign of the cross" on his head while holding a purple marker. Last night, while putting on his pajamas, I noticed some turquoise markings all around his belly button.
"Sam, what happened?"
"Um, I have marker on my belly!"
"I see, how did that happen?"
"I didn't do it."
"Oh. Then who did?"
"Hmmmm...."
"Robby, did you color on Sam today?"
"No, it wasn't Robby."
"I'm sorry, it was me," interjects Michael.
"No! It wasn't Daddy, it was Calvin," says Sam.
"Calvin? Really? When did Calvin color on you?" I ask.
"At my birthday. Calvin colored on me at my birthday party." Given that Sam's birthday was in February, we haven't even seen Cal since Sunday, and this is a Tuesday in November, call me a skeptic, but I'm not buying Sam's story...
Maybe someday, when he's rich and famous and people are paying big bucks for his art, I will regret washing Sam's one-of-a-kinds off my walls, but for now, I really, really wish he'd keep it to the paper.
1) Wall Art
Sam is our 3rd child and interestingly enough, we've never had much of an issue with writing on things other than paper. I'm sure there's been the occasional scribble on the table and such, but nothing too memorable. That must be why Robby looked horrified the other day when he came flying into my bedroom to let me know that Sam had a pen. So??? And he's drawing! Okay... ALL OVER THE WALL! When I went to investigate, sure enough, there sat Sam, pen in hand, with quite the "mural" if you will all over the bathroom floor.
Just a week or so before that, I had gone to look for an all to quiet Sam when I found him with a pencil, no paper, and a large smile. As I looked more closely, I saw that he had scribbled back and forth across our bamboo floor to cover approximently 2 foot by 8 foot of flooring.
On both occasions, I sternly spoke with Sam and transformed the prideful artist into a remorseful "I'll only color on paper now Mommy" little boy. More importantly, I gave him a rag and made him help me scrub his "art" away. Surely 1 of these times the lesson will be learned, right???
2) Dr. Office Art
At a recent trip to our family doctor, Sam ran out of paper. No problem! Dr. Holtz had a solution. Sam, Robby, and Dr. Holtz proceeded to cover the paper on the exam table with an array of portraits. Dr. Holtz was impressed by the number of body parts Sam added to his figures. Not only does he get a head/body, arms, legs, face etc. He also tends to add a little more... "This is me. This is my penis. Now I need underwear, and now pants," says Sam as he adds layers to his portrait.
3) Body Art
As I mentioned above, Sam is very, um, well, detailed in his drawings and likes to make sure they are, well, I guess, accurate. That isn't exactly what I was referring to here though by body art. No, Sam actually likes to draw on his body. The other day he walked around with a purple mark on his forehead all day because he had decided to "make the sign of the cross" on his head while holding a purple marker. Last night, while putting on his pajamas, I noticed some turquoise markings all around his belly button.
"Sam, what happened?"
"Um, I have marker on my belly!"
"I see, how did that happen?"
"I didn't do it."
"Oh. Then who did?"
"Hmmmm...."
"Robby, did you color on Sam today?"
"No, it wasn't Robby."
"I'm sorry, it was me," interjects Michael.
"No! It wasn't Daddy, it was Calvin," says Sam.
"Calvin? Really? When did Calvin color on you?" I ask.
"At my birthday. Calvin colored on me at my birthday party." Given that Sam's birthday was in February, we haven't even seen Cal since Sunday, and this is a Tuesday in November, call me a skeptic, but I'm not buying Sam's story...
Maybe someday, when he's rich and famous and people are paying big bucks for his art, I will regret washing Sam's one-of-a-kinds off my walls, but for now, I really, really wish he'd keep it to the paper.
Monday, November 19, 2012
More Elbow Milk
The other day Sam and I were home for the day and just hanging out. I had just sat down to nurse the baby when Sam came over with a favorite plan of his.
"Mom, can we go upstairs and watch a movie on your bed?"
"Sure, when I'm done feeding the baby we can go up."
"He can come upstairs too."
"That's very nice of you Sam. We will bring him up with us."
"Mom! He feel off your elbow and now he can't eat!" Theodore, who had unlatched to try to look for the source of the noise behind him, but quickly found his head being shoved back toward me.
"Um, Sam, that's now my elbow. This is my elbow." I said laughing and bending my arm to show Sam an elbow.
"I know that's an elbow. But that's your other elbow. Your elbow for feeding the baby."
"No, I only elbows on my arms just like you. This is my breast," I offer the appropriate term as I gesture across my chest.
"I know that's your breast. I'm talking about that pointy part, you know, the elbow," corrects Sam as he bends his own arm and points to his elbow with his other hand.
Hmmmm, interesting correlation don't ya think?
"Mom, can we go upstairs and watch a movie on your bed?"
"Sure, when I'm done feeding the baby we can go up."
"He can come upstairs too."
"That's very nice of you Sam. We will bring him up with us."
"Mom! He feel off your elbow and now he can't eat!" Theodore, who had unlatched to try to look for the source of the noise behind him, but quickly found his head being shoved back toward me.
"Um, Sam, that's now my elbow. This is my elbow." I said laughing and bending my arm to show Sam an elbow.
"I know that's an elbow. But that's your other elbow. Your elbow for feeding the baby."
"No, I only elbows on my arms just like you. This is my breast," I offer the appropriate term as I gesture across my chest.
"I know that's your breast. I'm talking about that pointy part, you know, the elbow," corrects Sam as he bends his own arm and points to his elbow with his other hand.
Hmmmm, interesting correlation don't ya think?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Socks & Underwear
Michael's birthday falls on October 31, yes, Halloween. I try to make it special for him, but often feel like his day is overshadowed with pumpkins, costumes, and all things trick-or-treat. For years I have told him that I am not decorating for Halloween, but for his birthday. I even have a tote marked "Michael's Birthday Decorations" but since he doesn't particularly love black and orange, I think he knows I'm just humoring him.
As October drew to a close, I knew I was running out of time to get him the perfect present. Granted, I had not a clue what that was. So, I asked. Apparently he didn't have a clue either. Sooooo, I asked the kiddos. One by one I asked them what they wanted to get Dad for his birthday. Here are their replies.
Ray, "I was thinking I would make him a hug coupon book like I did for your birthday." Not bad, very sentimental.
Rob, "Hmmm, how about a new shirt? Maybe Angry Birds or Star Wars." Well, it is the thought that counts.
Sam, very enthusiastically, "Underwear!" Huh? What?!
"You want to get Daddy underwear for his birthday?"
"Yup, and socks."
"Socks and underwear?"
"It will make him smile," says Sam with a face cracking, light up the room smile.
"That it will!" I agree laughing.
Later that day, Sam, Rob and I stop into Target. After careful consideration, Rob chooses a green Yoda shirt and Sam ends up finding "pirate" underwear and socks for Michael. What soon-to-be 34 year old man doesn't want to wear skull and cross bone undies and socks?!
That same evening, Michael informs me that he thought of a gift idea for his birthday. Sam overhears this and yells, "Underwear!"
"Huh?" asks Michael.
"Shh! Sam, remember, it's suppose to be a secret." I try to interject.
"You want underwear for birthday right Daddy?"
"Um, sure," Michael replies.
Sam is very pleased with himself and at least the print of the undies and the socks will be a surprise.
As October drew to a close, I knew I was running out of time to get him the perfect present. Granted, I had not a clue what that was. So, I asked. Apparently he didn't have a clue either. Sooooo, I asked the kiddos. One by one I asked them what they wanted to get Dad for his birthday. Here are their replies.
Ray, "I was thinking I would make him a hug coupon book like I did for your birthday." Not bad, very sentimental.
Rob, "Hmmm, how about a new shirt? Maybe Angry Birds or Star Wars." Well, it is the thought that counts.
Sam, very enthusiastically, "Underwear!" Huh? What?!
"You want to get Daddy underwear for his birthday?"
"Yup, and socks."
"Socks and underwear?"
"It will make him smile," says Sam with a face cracking, light up the room smile.
"That it will!" I agree laughing.
Later that day, Sam, Rob and I stop into Target. After careful consideration, Rob chooses a green Yoda shirt and Sam ends up finding "pirate" underwear and socks for Michael. What soon-to-be 34 year old man doesn't want to wear skull and cross bone undies and socks?!
That same evening, Michael informs me that he thought of a gift idea for his birthday. Sam overhears this and yells, "Underwear!"
"Huh?" asks Michael.
"Shh! Sam, remember, it's suppose to be a secret." I try to interject.
"You want underwear for birthday right Daddy?"
"Um, sure," Michael replies.
Sam is very pleased with himself and at least the print of the undies and the socks will be a surprise.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Careful! That Chicken is Fragile!
After Theodore was born, I got this notion that we needed to have pictures done. A friend from back in the days of Shaw school (boy did that just date me) and her hubby have started their own photography studio, Ressler Photography, and do great work so I contacted her and we arranged for them to come to us (yes, come to us! how cool is that?!) on a Saturday afternoon in October. (If you are looking to get some high quality photos done for whatever occasion, I highly recommend checking these guys out!)
When Jake and Tricia arrived, Sam didn't even waste a minute pretending to be shy. He had Tricia by the hand and was dragging her up the stairs to show her his bedroom. We spent the next 1 to 2 hours busy trying to catch the perfect shots of Theo with mom, with Dad and on his own. And, WOW, did they ever capture some amazing ones!
Sam spent a good portion of that same time trying to catch the attention of any one. Jake and Tricia had come prepared with a tote of various items for the photo shoot and amongst those things, Sam happened upon a rubber chicken. The rubber chicken was not only funny looking, it also make a "wonderful" loud squawky sound. Sam and Rob spent their fair share of time running with, running from, tossing, catching, and squeezing the chicken. One more than 1 occasion, we asked them to stop, cool it, etc. It sometimes had short-lasting impact, but generally resulted in them finding a different way to play with the chicken.
As we finished up with Theo and got ready to transition into family picture mode, Jake told Sam to be careful with the chicken. I believe he said something to the effect of, "Be careful, that chicken is fragile."
Sam who had just run across the room, flung himself and the chicken into the recliner head down, feet up, looked inquisitively at Jake and asked, "Your chicken's name is fragile???"
We all bust out laughing and Jake replied, "It is now!"
So I'm not sure why the chicken crossed the road, though I suspect it was to get away from Sam, I do know how he got his name.
As we finished up with Theo and got ready to transition into family picture mode, Jake told Sam to be careful with the chicken. I believe he said something to the effect of, "Be careful, that chicken is fragile."
Sam who had just run across the room, flung himself and the chicken into the recliner head down, feet up, looked inquisitively at Jake and asked, "Your chicken's name is fragile???"
We all bust out laughing and Jake replied, "It is now!"
So I'm not sure why the chicken crossed the road, though I suspect it was to get away from Sam, I do know how he got his name.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Elbow Milk
After Michael has left for the day and Theo gets up for his early am feeding, I have a tendency to bring him into bed with me and snuggle him before the day starts. Once he has had his fill and he lulls back to sleep, I get the house going for the day. Rob quickly discovered that if he gets up and dressed fast enough, he too can have some 1 on 1 snuggle time with the littlest Wix. This morning Sam also crawled up there. So there sit 3 monkeys on my bed while I brush my teeth and try to jump start monkey #1, Ray.
"Mom! Teddy is being silly. He's trying to eat my arm." Rob announces.
I smile in spite of the toothbrush hanging out of my mouth to acknowledge Rob's comment. My boys are very much aware of the breastfeeding process. I have nursed all of them and I refuse to constantly hide myself and baby away every few hours to simply nourish my child. In our home, I nurse anywhere and everywhere from the kitchen to the the couch to bedtime story time. Out and about I also nurse just about anywhere. I try to be discrete and cover fairly well. In my opinion, if someone sees something they don't want to see, they were looking to hard in the 1st place.
"Ha ha ha! No, no silly baby. You can't get milk there. Mom, now Teddy's trying to suck on my chest! Boys don't have milk!" Rob continues.
"Yea, boys don't have elbows! Milk comes from elbows that are right here," Sam says pointing to his chest. "Only mommies have elbows here for making milk."
I almost sprayed toothpaste all over my bedroom. We've been through the proper anatomy terms, but I guess Sam needs a refresher.
"You are silly baby Theodore!" Sam concludes.
"Whoa! Sam did you just call him Theodore???" I inquire with wide eyes sure I must have misheard him. He did almost break down in tears yesterday because some referred to the baby as Theodore.
"He he he! I did. That was silly. His name is Teddy Roosevelt Bridge!" Sam laughs at himself.
"Mom! Teddy is being silly. He's trying to eat my arm." Rob announces.
I smile in spite of the toothbrush hanging out of my mouth to acknowledge Rob's comment. My boys are very much aware of the breastfeeding process. I have nursed all of them and I refuse to constantly hide myself and baby away every few hours to simply nourish my child. In our home, I nurse anywhere and everywhere from the kitchen to the the couch to bedtime story time. Out and about I also nurse just about anywhere. I try to be discrete and cover fairly well. In my opinion, if someone sees something they don't want to see, they were looking to hard in the 1st place.
"Ha ha ha! No, no silly baby. You can't get milk there. Mom, now Teddy's trying to suck on my chest! Boys don't have milk!" Rob continues.
"Yea, boys don't have elbows! Milk comes from elbows that are right here," Sam says pointing to his chest. "Only mommies have elbows here for making milk."
I almost sprayed toothpaste all over my bedroom. We've been through the proper anatomy terms, but I guess Sam needs a refresher.
"You are silly baby Theodore!" Sam concludes.
"Whoa! Sam did you just call him Theodore???" I inquire with wide eyes sure I must have misheard him. He did almost break down in tears yesterday because some referred to the baby as Theodore.
"He he he! I did. That was silly. His name is Teddy Roosevelt Bridge!" Sam laughs at himself.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Mom with a Mustache?!
Sam seems to be very fixated on gender lately. Here is a dialogue we had the other day.
"Mom, did you ever have a mustache?" inquired Sam on afternoon.
"A mustache? No, I've never had a mustache," I replied while making a mental note that I better double check the mirror. I did just have a baby, maybe hormones are messing with me.
"Yea a mustache. Remember? Didn't you have one when you use to be a boy?"
"Um, Sam, I've never been a boy."
"You've NEVER been a boy?
"No, I've always been a girl."
"You've always been a girl? No. Remember? When you were little and you use to be a boy."
"Sam, I've never been a boy. I have always been a girl. Even when I was little, I was a girl."
"Oh. Well, I'm a boy."
"Yes you are."
"So I am going to have a mustache!"
Should I get into how some women do have mustaches or how some women were boys when they were little? Nah. He'll get to all that in his own time. Let's just keep it simple for a few more years.
"Okay Sam, you go right ahead and do that."
"Mom, did you ever have a mustache?" inquired Sam on afternoon.
"A mustache? No, I've never had a mustache," I replied while making a mental note that I better double check the mirror. I did just have a baby, maybe hormones are messing with me.
"Yea a mustache. Remember? Didn't you have one when you use to be a boy?"
"Um, Sam, I've never been a boy."
"You've NEVER been a boy?
"No, I've always been a girl."
"You've always been a girl? No. Remember? When you were little and you use to be a boy."
"Sam, I've never been a boy. I have always been a girl. Even when I was little, I was a girl."
"Oh. Well, I'm a boy."
"Yes you are."
"So I am going to have a mustache!"
Should I get into how some women do have mustaches or how some women were boys when they were little? Nah. He'll get to all that in his own time. Let's just keep it simple for a few more years.
"Okay Sam, you go right ahead and do that."
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
The Stork
"Where do babies come from?" is a question that every parent must face at some point and time. We start our children off with some real basic information on that matter. At this time, Robby knows that Daddies have special seeds that they put in Mommies and God can help that grow into a baby. He also know that the babies grow in Mommies' tummies until they are big enough to come out, at which time a doctor helps baby come into the world. A simplistic, but fairly honest version in my opinion.
So when Robby learned about the idea of storks from Dumbo, he was a little confused. I explained to him that was an old, silly story that people use to tell children about where babies come from.
"Oh. That's good, cause one time, at Grandma's, I saw a stork. It was a really big bird, and I was afraid it was going to try to take me," Robby confessed very relieved.
"Why were you afraid it would take you?" I inquired trying to hide my amusement both at his genuine concern and belief that he had seen a stork at Grandma's.
"I thought maybe it was going to take me to a new mom and I didn't want a new mom."
Aw, I love my Robby Roo. I don't want the stork to take him to a new mom either.
So when Robby learned about the idea of storks from Dumbo, he was a little confused. I explained to him that was an old, silly story that people use to tell children about where babies come from.
"Oh. That's good, cause one time, at Grandma's, I saw a stork. It was a really big bird, and I was afraid it was going to try to take me," Robby confessed very relieved.
"Why were you afraid it would take you?" I inquired trying to hide my amusement both at his genuine concern and belief that he had seen a stork at Grandma's.
"I thought maybe it was going to take me to a new mom and I didn't want a new mom."
Aw, I love my Robby Roo. I don't want the stork to take him to a new mom either.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Am I Still Your Son?
Driving home after taking the big boys to school, Sam randomly began the following conversation.
"Mom," Sam began with a very serious look of concern on his face.
"Yes Sam."
"Am I still your son?"
"Yes, you are still my son. You will always be my son."
"Always?"
"Yes, always and forever."
"He, he, he! Good! That means you'll always be my mommy!" Sam enthusiastically concluded with an ear to ear grin.
Yes, yes it does, but I'm sure there will be days he will be less than enthusiastic about this fact of life. I will enjoy it while I can. :)
"Mom," Sam began with a very serious look of concern on his face.
"Yes Sam."
"Am I still your son?"
"Yes, you are still my son. You will always be my son."
"Always?"
"Yes, always and forever."
"He, he, he! Good! That means you'll always be my mommy!" Sam enthusiastically concluded with an ear to ear grin.
Yes, yes it does, but I'm sure there will be days he will be less than enthusiastic about this fact of life. I will enjoy it while I can. :)
Monday, October 29, 2012
Teddy Roosevelt (continued)
Maybe Theodore John was too formal sounding to Sam, or maybe he didn't have anything to associate it with, but he continues to call his baby brother Teddy Roosevelt, but he's added on to it. Sam has officially named Wix #6, Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. (We live near Roosevelt Bridge and it was under construction all summer thus the topic of much car conversation.) If you want to be corrected, I dare you to refer to the baby as Theo or Theodore in Sam's presence. You are welcome to use the whole name, but you can also get by with simply Teddy, or occasionally, even Teddy Bear, "but his name's NOT Theodore John! He's Teddy Roosevelt Bridge!!!"
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Welcome Teddy Roosevelt!
On October 4th, 2012 at 9:09 pm, the Wicks family gladly welcomed Wicks #6 to the mix. As much as the name Six had grown on me, Iwe weren't sold on it as a forever name. The delivery was less than ideal, in fact I told Michael if I ever heard blow it off as fine or a generic "it went well" I would have grounds to beat him. I also told him I earned the right to name baby any name I like. Of course I did let him have input. We both gave our lists and discovered that Theodore was the only name on both, so Theodore it is.
Grandma Wicks shared the baby's name, Theodore John, in the morning. Robby liked it. Ray would prefer Johnny. Sam was down right irked. He was SURE we should have named him Pluto.
When Sam came to meet baby, he was still not sold on Theodore but decided he could live with Teddt, Teddy Roosevelt that is. Sam continues to call him by the presidential name. He will also tell you that we named our baby Teddy Roosevelt because he's dead, so we used his name. Oh, and so you know, George Washington is dead so you can use his name too. But, Barack Obama is president and he's alive, so you can't use his name yet.
Dr. Coppes, my OB, was impressed with Sam's knowledge of American history, and so is pretty much everyone else Sam can get to listen about his new baby brother.
Grandma Wicks shared the baby's name, Theodore John, in the morning. Robby liked it. Ray would prefer Johnny. Sam was down right irked. He was SURE we should have named him Pluto.
When Sam came to meet baby, he was still not sold on Theodore but decided he could live with Teddt, Teddy Roosevelt that is. Sam continues to call him by the presidential name. He will also tell you that we named our baby Teddy Roosevelt because he's dead, so we used his name. Oh, and so you know, George Washington is dead so you can use his name too. But, Barack Obama is president and he's alive, so you can't use his name yet.
Dr. Coppes, my OB, was impressed with Sam's knowledge of American history, and so is pretty much everyone else Sam can get to listen about his new baby brother.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Which One is the American?
After two plus years of his inquiring, we cracked and let Ray join the YMCA swim team this fall. Following swim practice, Ray makes his way to locker room to shower and dress and believe me, he takes his sweet, sweet time with this process. (Apparently the Y has a better hot shower than we do at home...) That leaves me, my big round pregnant belly, 5 year old Rob, and 3 year old Sam waiting patiently (or as patiently as a 3 year can) in the chairs outside the pool while the big kids start their practice.
"Mom! Which one is the American?" Sam loudly asks.
"They are all Americans, Sam."
"They are ALL Americans?"
"Yes, Sam. We are in America, and all of the kids are Americans."
"And they are all human?"
"Yes, they are all human boys and girls."
"So ALL of those humans are Americans too?"
"Yes Sam. They are all humans and they are all Americans."
"Wow. Then how do I know which one to cheer for?"
"They are all on our team Sam. You can cheer for them all."
"Oh, okay."
Once again, we provide the entertainment wherever we go.
"Mom! Which one is the American?" Sam loudly asks.
"They are all Americans, Sam."
"They are ALL Americans?"
"Yes, Sam. We are in America, and all of the kids are Americans."
"And they are all human?"
"Yes, they are all human boys and girls."
"So ALL of those humans are Americans too?"
"Yes Sam. They are all humans and they are all Americans."
"Wow. Then how do I know which one to cheer for?"
"They are all on our team Sam. You can cheer for them all."
"Oh, okay."
Once again, we provide the entertainment wherever we go.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Tarzan
Sam is a tiny bit strong willed. Okay, tiny bit is a understatement. Strong willed may even be an understatement. Sam ranks high in the stubborn, obstinate, willful, headstrong , unbending, unyielding children I've ever known. (And since I teach 43 preschoolers every week, that says a lot!) I tell myself regularly that his determination will make him an amazing adult some day. However, that means he, and I, have to survive his childhood first!
The other morning it was time to get dressed for preschool. If I thought getting (& keeping) Sam dressed in the summer was challenging, I was sadly mistaken. The weather was a chilly and shorts were out of the question. I gave Sam a choice in long sleeve shirts to slip on and he rebuked them all the 1st time through. He finally settled on a shirt the third time through the stack (with a good deal of coaxing.) Next came pants...
"I HATE jeans! I do not snaps!" Okay, fine. I can live an alternative to jeans. "Do you want this pair of this pair?" I asked holding up 2 pairs of elastic waisted pants.
"I don't want pants. Tarzan doesn't wear pants." Tarzan lives in the jungle. Tarzan doesn't go to school. Tarzan doesn't have a mom.
"Sam, today is a school day. You can't go to school in your underwear. You have to put on pants."
"But I'm Tarzan!"
"How about this pair?"
"Tarzan doesn't wear those."
"Let's try these on. You have to wear pants for school." I managed to get a pair of pants on him.
He managed to rip them off.
"I can't wear these, kids will laugh at me!"
Cause 3 year olds always laugh at the kid who comes to school in pants.
"These feel funny. They touch my socks. I don't like pants that touch my socks."
Um, okay. That's a new one.
Back and forth we went. Pants on, pants off. Pants on, pants off. This could be a really good exercise for a Karate Kid in training. Sam would agree to a pair and then find fault with whichever pair.
"I want pajama pants," Sam declared.
Hey, if the pants fit! (and the underwear are covered....) I had my own chuckle seeing as he had been concerned about the children laughing at him in pair of grey sweat pant type pants, but whatever.
Sam choose a pair of dark and light blue striped pajama pants. He settled in to watch a cartoon for a few minutes while I finished a few other things before we headed out the door. When I told Sam it was time for shoes, he stood up and took the pants off.
"Sam! What are you doing? We need to go to school and you have to wear pants."
"I'm not wearing those!"
Sigh. Here we go again.
6 pairs of pants later, the promise that he could be Tarzan after school at daycare, my threatening to leave without him and getting in the car to prove it, Sam was ready to go. His pants were at least an inch to short and way to wide in the waist, but he was dressed.
The other morning it was time to get dressed for preschool. If I thought getting (& keeping) Sam dressed in the summer was challenging, I was sadly mistaken. The weather was a chilly and shorts were out of the question. I gave Sam a choice in long sleeve shirts to slip on and he rebuked them all the 1st time through. He finally settled on a shirt the third time through the stack (with a good deal of coaxing.) Next came pants...
"I HATE jeans! I do not snaps!" Okay, fine. I can live an alternative to jeans. "Do you want this pair of this pair?" I asked holding up 2 pairs of elastic waisted pants.
"I don't want pants. Tarzan doesn't wear pants." Tarzan lives in the jungle. Tarzan doesn't go to school. Tarzan doesn't have a mom.
"Sam, today is a school day. You can't go to school in your underwear. You have to put on pants."
"But I'm Tarzan!"
"How about this pair?"
"Tarzan doesn't wear those."
"Let's try these on. You have to wear pants for school." I managed to get a pair of pants on him.
He managed to rip them off.
"I can't wear these, kids will laugh at me!"
Cause 3 year olds always laugh at the kid who comes to school in pants.
"These feel funny. They touch my socks. I don't like pants that touch my socks."
Um, okay. That's a new one.
Back and forth we went. Pants on, pants off. Pants on, pants off. This could be a really good exercise for a Karate Kid in training. Sam would agree to a pair and then find fault with whichever pair.
"I want pajama pants," Sam declared.
Hey, if the pants fit! (and the underwear are covered....) I had my own chuckle seeing as he had been concerned about the children laughing at him in pair of grey sweat pant type pants, but whatever.
Sam choose a pair of dark and light blue striped pajama pants. He settled in to watch a cartoon for a few minutes while I finished a few other things before we headed out the door. When I told Sam it was time for shoes, he stood up and took the pants off.
"Sam! What are you doing? We need to go to school and you have to wear pants."
"I'm not wearing those!"
Sigh. Here we go again.
6 pairs of pants later, the promise that he could be Tarzan after school at daycare, my threatening to leave without him and getting in the car to prove it, Sam was ready to go. His pants were at least an inch to short and way to wide in the waist, but he was dressed.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
What's in a Name?
Poor Wix #6 may actually have to write that on his kindergarten papers because we are in quite the dilemma trying to come up with a name for baby boy #4. The boys all have family ties with their names, and we'd like to do so much for this one. The boys all have names that they can grow into but have nice little nicknames for the times being, we'd like that for this one too. The problem therein lies with us finding a name that meets these criteria while not causing Michael or I to scrunch up our noses. I say a name, he responds with silence. He says a name, I comment about such and such a student.
Add to the mix the opinions of the three boys, whom, for the record, get minimal to no vote, and the conversations get really interesting... Take the other day for example:
We were driving and I brought up the topic of names and even tried sneaking in one or two of my faves that Michael has already less than enthusiastically passed on. "What is your dad's middle name again?" I know he's said it 100 times already, but maybe this time inspiration will strike and I'll come up with a creative way to make it work.
"Laverne," replies Michael.
I wait for the inspiration bolt of lightening, it doesn't come, I slump in my seat. "There HAS to be the perfect name out there. We just need to get creative. Maybe I can come up with a cool way to combine Dale and Lee..."
"Like what, L'Dale? Dalee?"
"Okay, maybe not."
"Let's name the baby Apple," says a voice from the backseat. We are at a stoplight near Applebee's.
"What about Target?" says another voice. Target is kiddy corner from Applebee's.
"Oh! What about Chip?" I say, "We all love to eat chips!" A Frito O' Lay truck drives by.
"Sounds good to me!" says Michael.
"If it's twins, we can name one Chip and one Dale!" says Ray.
Michael and I chuckle, "Maybe, but I don't think it's twins."
"Yea, you're right, but his first name could be Chip and his middle name Dale. Chip Dale! I like it," says Ray.
"We'll take that name into consideration," I say, trying not to bust out loud laughing.
"If he's anything like his brother, it could be fitting..." ponders Michael.
And consideration done. I'm sure we'll pick a name before baby comes home from the hospital...
Add to the mix the opinions of the three boys, whom, for the record, get minimal to no vote, and the conversations get really interesting... Take the other day for example:
We were driving and I brought up the topic of names and even tried sneaking in one or two of my faves that Michael has already less than enthusiastically passed on. "What is your dad's middle name again?" I know he's said it 100 times already, but maybe this time inspiration will strike and I'll come up with a creative way to make it work.
"Laverne," replies Michael.
I wait for the inspiration bolt of lightening, it doesn't come, I slump in my seat. "There HAS to be the perfect name out there. We just need to get creative. Maybe I can come up with a cool way to combine Dale and Lee..."
"Like what, L'Dale? Dalee?"
"Okay, maybe not."
"Let's name the baby Apple," says a voice from the backseat. We are at a stoplight near Applebee's.
"What about Target?" says another voice. Target is kiddy corner from Applebee's.
"Oh! What about Chip?" I say, "We all love to eat chips!" A Frito O' Lay truck drives by.
"Sounds good to me!" says Michael.
"If it's twins, we can name one Chip and one Dale!" says Ray.
Michael and I chuckle, "Maybe, but I don't think it's twins."
"Yea, you're right, but his first name could be Chip and his middle name Dale. Chip Dale! I like it," says Ray.
"We'll take that name into consideration," I say, trying not to bust out loud laughing.
"If he's anything like his brother, it could be fitting..." ponders Michael.
And consideration done. I'm sure we'll pick a name before baby comes home from the hospital...
Friday, July 27, 2012
Shots?! Gulp.
I almost forgot to share another first from our experience at the doctor office yesterday...
Rob is going to kindergarten and therefor he needed a few shots before the 1st day. By a few, I mean 4. Gulp. 1 mom, 3 kids, 4 shots. This had potential for disaster written all over it. At the word "immunizations" panic broke out. But not by Rob. No, Ray was the one freaking out. "He has to get shots?!?! I HATE shots!" Ray's face was flushed. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Ray, you are not getting any shots. Just Rob and he's really tough."
"But I don't even want to see a needle!" A tear slipped over the rim of his eye and rolled down his cheek.
"Fine, you don't have to. You can wait in the waiting room."
"Okay." Ray reluctantly agreed.
When the time came for Rob's immunizations, Ray retreated to read, Rob climbed up on my lap and took the 4 immunizations like Superman. He barely even flinched and didn't shed a tear. As the nurses and I made a big deal about how amazing and tough Rob was, Sam decided he wanted a chance.
"My turn! My turn! I want a shot now."
"That's a first," commented the nurse. "I don't think I've ever had a child want a shot before."
It only got more interesting as we explained to Sam that he wasn't getting a shot today and he dissolved into tears.
"Hey, Sam, how about we come back in October and you can get a flu shot then? We can all get flu shots to keep our baby healthy."
"Okay," Sam sniffled and agreed. Just don't tell your oldest brother I thought as the boys all picked out a lollipop.
Who would've thunk that only child getting the shots, would be the only child to not cry about it?!?!
Rob is going to kindergarten and therefor he needed a few shots before the 1st day. By a few, I mean 4. Gulp. 1 mom, 3 kids, 4 shots. This had potential for disaster written all over it. At the word "immunizations" panic broke out. But not by Rob. No, Ray was the one freaking out. "He has to get shots?!?! I HATE shots!" Ray's face was flushed. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Ray, you are not getting any shots. Just Rob and he's really tough."
"But I don't even want to see a needle!" A tear slipped over the rim of his eye and rolled down his cheek.
"Fine, you don't have to. You can wait in the waiting room."
"Okay." Ray reluctantly agreed.
When the time came for Rob's immunizations, Ray retreated to read, Rob climbed up on my lap and took the 4 immunizations like Superman. He barely even flinched and didn't shed a tear. As the nurses and I made a big deal about how amazing and tough Rob was, Sam decided he wanted a chance.
"My turn! My turn! I want a shot now."
"That's a first," commented the nurse. "I don't think I've ever had a child want a shot before."
It only got more interesting as we explained to Sam that he wasn't getting a shot today and he dissolved into tears.
"Hey, Sam, how about we come back in October and you can get a flu shot then? We can all get flu shots to keep our baby healthy."
"Okay," Sam sniffled and agreed. Just don't tell your oldest brother I thought as the boys all picked out a lollipop.
Who would've thunk that only child getting the shots, would be the only child to not cry about it?!?!
Thursday, July 26, 2012
My Well Behaved Brood
When we had our third child and learned he was a boy, some people made comments about it being same old or how he'd never get to do anything 1st. In some ways, life with a third boy was a little old hat. We did have lots of blue clothes, we had the art of changing lil boy diapers down, and we were even pros at knowing how to deal with Sam's bout of jaundice. He certainly seemed to be following the path of his brothers.
Sam decided early in life he didn't want to spend his life in the shadows of his brothers and proved as much when he fought (and thankfully won) his battle with recurrent pneumonia as an infant complete with many 1sts for our family. However, that is a whole other blog entry in itself. My point is, from a very early age, Sam has moved to the beat of his own drum. Or, er, um, in this case, dances to the beat of his own song.
As I've mentioned, Sam has a favorite song. It isn't one that we've tried to encourage, however, encouragement for it is plenty...
The other day the boys and I were clipping along down the corridor of Owatonna Clinic to have Ray's broken arm reexamined. It was about twenty minutes after ten so the clinic was in full buzz. The waiting room to our left had few empty chairs and the hall was lined with people moving to and fro appointments. Right in the middle of all the commotion, Sam decided it was a good time to belt out a few lines from his favorite song.
"I'm sexy and I know it, I'm sexy and I know it, I'm sexy and I know it."
I didn't want to draw attention to the behavior so I tightened my grip on his hand and tried pulling him along a little bit quicker. I also avoided the amused gazes of the passerbyers who caught what he was saying.
"Look at my body! Look at my body! I work out!" Sam continued complete with flexing his arms.
I could feel my face flushing as I scooped him and asked him what color lollipop he would get if they were good boys in the doctor office today. It my relief, I not only made it to the ortho check in desk, my distraction worked as Sam started talking about the colors lollipops came in. Whew.
Yesterday we had well child checks for Rob and Sam to make sure they were all ready for school in a few weeks. Sam was a handful throughout the time at the appointment but things got really embarrassing when he looked at the doctor and said, "Hey, look at me!" Sam went on to whip his t-shirt up and over his head, spin it a few times and start in with song and dance. Dr. Holtz's face went from confusion to utter amusement as he processed what Sam was both doing and saying.
I shook my head, grabbed Sam's shirt and struggled to redress him as I asked Dr. Holtz if there was an anti-social medication we might be able to prescribe for Sam. He laughed and confirmed my fears, there is no such medication. He also informed me how brave we are. He wasn't brave enough to go three kids, so he and his wife stopped at two. I'm not sure if bravery is the word I would use...
Following our appointment, we made our way out to the waiting room to regroup and make sure we had everything we had come with before heading to the car. The ladies at the reception desk chuckled as told me they heard Sam had a song he likes to sing. I sighed and said, "I guess Dr. Holtz shared Sam's performance with you."
Sam walked right up to the desk, looked at the receptionist and said, "Want to hear my song?" In no time at all Sam's shirt was in his hand twirling to the side as he started singing. He proceeded to fling the shirt to the floor and continue his song and dance as the crowd grew. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks and it felt like a lot longer than the 10 seconds or so that it was.
"I'm sure this isn't the first time he's done this, but look at mom. She still gets flushed every time he does it," commented one of the nurses.
"Make sure he doesn't see Magic Mike!" said the other nurse.
"Make sure he doesn't see Magic Mike!" said the other nurse.
"You have adorable boys. And they are really well behaved," commented one of the receptionists.
I forced myself to say thank you and refrain from rolling my eyes as I ushered the boys out the door. The receptionist followed me to lock the door behind us. "They really are well behaved, good boys. We see all kinds. You'd rather have them healthy and active than not."
I managed to smile and believe the sincerity in her eyes as I again said thank you. If my "well behaved" boys make me blush this much, I'm thankful God didn't give me naughty ones ;)
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Things You See in the Rearview Mirror
Ray's cousins had invited him to their churches Bible camp with them this summer. I personally thought 8 seemed too young for 5 nights away from home. Then I realized it was more me, than him having a hard time with this concept. And since he would be staying in a cabin with 2 cousins, a family friend, have another family friend for his counselor and an uncle on site as camp dean, I was about out of good excuses. So Monday morning came his bag was packed, sleeping bag rolled, and he was off to meet the other campers from Austin. My brother-in-law had the group meeting at Walgreens and then heading up together on the church bus. When Bernie had to remind Ray (and others) to come back off the bus to tell their families good-bye, I knew he was going to be just fine. (It was still me I wasn't as sure about.) We sat in the parking lot a few minutes while the campers took some pics and loaded up and then drove off. A few blocks later, I checked my rearview mirror and saw an empty booster seat. My throat knotted and a tear or two slipped down my cheek. Sometimes being a mom is tough.
Tuesday morning I was woken up to the sound of my phone. I missed the call, saw it had been Michael and called him right back. "Hey, what's up?" It's not all that common for Michael to call from work.
"Bernie just called. Ray fell from the bunk bed and they think he may have broken his arm."
I can honestly say I wasn't horribly alarmed or startled. Somehow, and I know it was only by the grace of God, I kept my head together, devised a plan for getting the boys taken care of for the day (thank you Nicole and Grandma!) and headed off to meet up with Ray and the camp staff at the hospital in Mankato. I will admit I did have to use GPS to find the best way and I did have to check with Bernie on the way to say, "I'm on my way, but my way to where???" because I was a little sketchy on the details. It was a long couple of hours from wake up to arrival at hospital.
When I arrived at the hospital, I went straight to the ER desk. I was impressed that upon mention of Ray's name, they instantly remembered "the adorable blonde boy who was trying so hard to be brave and not cry." I was surprised when I was told it appeared that he was being discharged. "Awesome! Must not have been broken after all!" I commented.
I spoke too fast. "Oh, he is being taken up for surgery." My heartbeat and feet both sped up at that point. I managed to hear and follow the directions the lady gave me to the elevator and up the stairs. I even managed to sign the appropriate forms when I got to the surgery desk. It was such a relief once I finally got to see and hug my lil guy.
The surgeon explained that Ray had broken both bones in his right forearm all the way through and while it was not an uncommon pediatric break, it was not a desirable one. (What break is???) He performed a closed reduction to better align the bones and Ray was a champ through it all. He fell asleep as we cruised home along highway 14, and as I saw his little head bob over his splinted and slinged arm, that same pesky knot returned and I let the tears finally flow, but only for 2 minutes. Sometimes being a mom is really tough.
After some difficulty, I managed to get Ray follow up care arranged in Owatonna on Friday. We were disappointed to learn his alignment was not ideal and a second surgery was to be on Monday.
Monday was a tough day. A really tough one. Monday was a long day. A really long one. But all in all, it went well. Ray came through again like quite a little champ. Michael veered for the pharmacy and I to get the other boys. As we neared home, I glanced into my rearview mirror. Three blondies all "mmmm'ing" their blankies with super sleepy, super sweet eyes. And there was that familiar knot again and a single tear rolled down my cheek. Sometime being a mom is tough, but it is oh, so worth it.
Tuesday morning I was woken up to the sound of my phone. I missed the call, saw it had been Michael and called him right back. "Hey, what's up?" It's not all that common for Michael to call from work.
"Bernie just called. Ray fell from the bunk bed and they think he may have broken his arm."
I can honestly say I wasn't horribly alarmed or startled. Somehow, and I know it was only by the grace of God, I kept my head together, devised a plan for getting the boys taken care of for the day (thank you Nicole and Grandma!) and headed off to meet up with Ray and the camp staff at the hospital in Mankato. I will admit I did have to use GPS to find the best way and I did have to check with Bernie on the way to say, "I'm on my way, but my way to where???" because I was a little sketchy on the details. It was a long couple of hours from wake up to arrival at hospital.
When I arrived at the hospital, I went straight to the ER desk. I was impressed that upon mention of Ray's name, they instantly remembered "the adorable blonde boy who was trying so hard to be brave and not cry." I was surprised when I was told it appeared that he was being discharged. "Awesome! Must not have been broken after all!" I commented.
I spoke too fast. "Oh, he is being taken up for surgery." My heartbeat and feet both sped up at that point. I managed to hear and follow the directions the lady gave me to the elevator and up the stairs. I even managed to sign the appropriate forms when I got to the surgery desk. It was such a relief once I finally got to see and hug my lil guy.
The surgeon explained that Ray had broken both bones in his right forearm all the way through and while it was not an uncommon pediatric break, it was not a desirable one. (What break is???) He performed a closed reduction to better align the bones and Ray was a champ through it all. He fell asleep as we cruised home along highway 14, and as I saw his little head bob over his splinted and slinged arm, that same pesky knot returned and I let the tears finally flow, but only for 2 minutes. Sometimes being a mom is really tough.
After some difficulty, I managed to get Ray follow up care arranged in Owatonna on Friday. We were disappointed to learn his alignment was not ideal and a second surgery was to be on Monday.
Monday was a tough day. A really tough one. Monday was a long day. A really long one. But all in all, it went well. Ray came through again like quite a little champ. Michael veered for the pharmacy and I to get the other boys. As we neared home, I glanced into my rearview mirror. Three blondies all "mmmm'ing" their blankies with super sleepy, super sweet eyes. And there was that familiar knot again and a single tear rolled down my cheek. Sometime being a mom is tough, but it is oh, so worth it.
Monday, July 2, 2012
3 Reasons I Love Raising Boys
I can't believe the number of people who act as if I should be deeply saddened by the upcoming birth of another boy. "Maybe #5 will be a girl." "It's too bad you aren't getting a girl." "ANOTHER boy?! You poor thing." Would a girl be fun and exciting, sure. But so will a boy! I love my boys and can't imagine life without any one of them. If given a chance to trade one of my boys for a girl, I couldn't and wouldn't. They are each so wonderfully and uniquely made. And besides that, don't you know people, little boys love their mamas forever!
Reason #1-Sam
The other day I was getting ready to lay with Sam for what he calls "fake rest time" (nap time, as opposed to "real rest time" or bed time.) His shorts were damp from sprinkler fun so we left them to dry in the bathroom. Upon climbing into my bed with me, he started tugging at his t-shirt. "Mommy, help me. I need to take this off so I can be your huzzbin." I laughed as I helped him peel his shirt up over his head and then he snuggled into next to me for a lovely nap.
"I can't Mommy. Everyone has to grow."
"Maybe I can find some medicine to help you stop."
"I have to grow up, but I can live with you forever."
"I think you will grow up and probably get married. I don't think your wife will want to live with me."
"Yup, she will. I will find a wife and she can help you with all the cooking and cleaning!"
It wasn't just the words, but look of sincerity and devotion in his eyes as he spoke.
Reason #3-Ray
It was a near perfect summer evening. Swimming and pizza topped off with a backyard fire. Michael and I sat on an old beater love seat watching our boys chase fireflies and roast marshmallows. When Michael got up to assist one of the boys with the roasting process, Ray ran over, snagged his seat, put his hand on his shoulder and pulled me back till my head rested on his shoulder. It was such a sweet, loving gesture and topped off an evening that will live in my memory forever.
I love my boys and they love me. I would trade that for any amount of pink in the whole wide world.
Reason #1-Sam
The other day I was getting ready to lay with Sam for what he calls "fake rest time" (nap time, as opposed to "real rest time" or bed time.) His shorts were damp from sprinkler fun so we left them to dry in the bathroom. Upon climbing into my bed with me, he started tugging at his t-shirt. "Mommy, help me. I need to take this off so I can be your huzzbin." I laughed as I helped him peel his shirt up over his head and then he snuggled into next to me for a lovely nap.
Reason #2-Robby Roo
"Robby Roo, why don't you stop growing, stay 5 and live with me forever?""I can't Mommy. Everyone has to grow."
"Maybe I can find some medicine to help you stop."
"I have to grow up, but I can live with you forever."
"I think you will grow up and probably get married. I don't think your wife will want to live with me."
"Yup, she will. I will find a wife and she can help you with all the cooking and cleaning!"
It wasn't just the words, but look of sincerity and devotion in his eyes as he spoke.
Reason #3-Ray
It was a near perfect summer evening. Swimming and pizza topped off with a backyard fire. Michael and I sat on an old beater love seat watching our boys chase fireflies and roast marshmallows. When Michael got up to assist one of the boys with the roasting process, Ray ran over, snagged his seat, put his hand on his shoulder and pulled me back till my head rested on his shoulder. It was such a sweet, loving gesture and topped off an evening that will live in my memory forever.
I love my boys and they love me. I would trade that for any amount of pink in the whole wide world.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Thank You M&M's
Sam is not shy. He may pretend to be for about 2.2 seconds, but it is a charade that he can only play so long. It is then quickly replaced with his outgoing, exhibitionist style personality. Wait, did she just say exhibitionist style? Yes I did. Sam loves the inhibited feeling of being in the nude. It is not at all on common to find a pile of clothes and a few feet away a bare butted Sam.
I'm the mom of 3, soon to be 4 boys, I can live with this. What is really getting to me is the words he is adding and all thanks to one commercial. Perhaps you've seen it. A brown M&M at a party is approached by another who says he didn't know it was that kind of party and rips off his candy shell and begins dancing as the song "Sexy and I Know it" plays. You can about imagine my shock the first time my three year old starting shaking it and singing "I'm sexy and I know it! I'm sexy and I know it! I'm sexy and I know it!"
I have learned from parenting experience that A.) you have to choose your battles and B.) if you make something into a big deal, it only adds fuel to the desire for children to do it. Carefully considering both of these points, I decided to not make a big issue of this. Surely it will pass. It hasn't. I decided to try modifying the lyrics in hopes a word substitution would be a nice compromise while we wait out this phase. I tried cool, awesome, funny, silly, and many others. All were met with the same reaction. "No Mom! I'm SEXY and I know it!" Sigh, I guess I'll have to take solace in the fact that he has no clue what he's saying.
The other day Sam was stripping down in the kitchen and Michael asked him what he was doing. Sam looked at him and said, "Taking all my clothes off" as if it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. (Which in our house, it kind of is :/ ) Michael took Sam by the hand and started him up the stairs to find some PJ's and Sam sang and shook the whole way up. I hide my smile but when Sam got to the top step, turned around and said, "Hey Mom! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!" I had a hard time hiding my amusement from him.
I'm the mom of 3, soon to be 4 boys, I can live with this. What is really getting to me is the words he is adding and all thanks to one commercial. Perhaps you've seen it. A brown M&M at a party is approached by another who says he didn't know it was that kind of party and rips off his candy shell and begins dancing as the song "Sexy and I Know it" plays. You can about imagine my shock the first time my three year old starting shaking it and singing "I'm sexy and I know it! I'm sexy and I know it! I'm sexy and I know it!"
I have learned from parenting experience that A.) you have to choose your battles and B.) if you make something into a big deal, it only adds fuel to the desire for children to do it. Carefully considering both of these points, I decided to not make a big issue of this. Surely it will pass. It hasn't. I decided to try modifying the lyrics in hopes a word substitution would be a nice compromise while we wait out this phase. I tried cool, awesome, funny, silly, and many others. All were met with the same reaction. "No Mom! I'm SEXY and I know it!" Sigh, I guess I'll have to take solace in the fact that he has no clue what he's saying.
The other day Sam was stripping down in the kitchen and Michael asked him what he was doing. Sam looked at him and said, "Taking all my clothes off" as if it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. (Which in our house, it kind of is :/ ) Michael took Sam by the hand and started him up the stairs to find some PJ's and Sam sang and shook the whole way up. I hide my smile but when Sam got to the top step, turned around and said, "Hey Mom! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!" I had a hard time hiding my amusement from him.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
You Don't Have One?!?!
Last night the boys wanted to see the pics of their baby brother in the making so I popped in the picture CD that I was given by the ultrasound tech and we started looking at Wix #6 first photo session. Using my finger to show, I traced various parts of the baby and said things like, "This is his head, these are his eyes. See his ribs here? This white line is a bone in his arm." (I'm pretty sure the boys thought we were looking at a small alien figure, not their baby brother to be.)
When we got to this pic, they recognized it a lot more as baby and noticed on their own that baby had his hand to his mouth. "Look, he's sucking his thumb just like Ray!" commented Rob.
"I am a baby Mom, just like baby in your tummy," said Sam popping his thumb into his mouth.
"These picture all show the baby's head and tummy. Are there any of his legs?" asked Ray.
"Here's one Ray. This is a picture of the baby's bottom. Kind of like he's sitting on the camera. This is a leg and this is his bottom."
"I am boy 4," read Ray. "How do they know he's a boy?"
"Well, do you see this between his legs? It is his boy parts."
"That's his penis?!" yells Rob "Sick."
"Our baby has a penis, and I have a penis, and you have a penis, and we all have a penis," exclaims Sam.
"You do, all of you boys do, but Mommy does not," I explain.
Sam first looks horrified with his eyes bulging from his head as he, the boy who adores his penis and has his hand on it more often than not, tries to make sense of what I just said. "You DON'T have a penis?!"
"No, Mommy is a girl. Girls don't have a penis." I explain.
"Yea, Mommy has a pee pee," chimes in Rob. I decide now is not the time to expand vocabulary so I just agree.
As Sam's shock is replaced with sympathy, he looks at me with sad eyes, pats me on the shoulder and says, "That's okay Mommy."
I'm so glad it's okay and that the boys will continue letting me live in our home even if I am lacking between my legs.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
A Wet Bed???
Boys are harder to potty train than girls. Many boys do not night train till between the ages of 5 and 7. My boys sleep like rocks. I really like sleep and do not care for it being unnecessarily interrupted. Combining all of these facts, we have taken a very laid back approach to night training at our house. My boys will simply not wake up to use the bathroom in the middle of night, so I don't see any purpose in stressing myself of them about it. We use pull-ups and wait till they keep them dry the majority of the time and then know we are ready to move on.
Rob is more or less ready, has a strong desire, and it is summer so it seemed like an appropriate time for less sleep and more laundry. Off to be bed in his undies he went last night and I wasn't at all surprised to hear him at my bedside at 2 a.m. As we worked toward cleaning him up and getting him back to bed, our conversation went a little something like this...
"Mom, I need new pajamas."
"Okay honey, did you wet the bed?"
"No, somehow my bed is just wet. But I don't know how, because I didn't pee in it."
"It's okay, we'll go check it out and clean up the accident."
"I DIDN'T have an accident. I wouldn't pee in my bed."
"I know you wouldn't on purpose honey, but that's why it's called an accident, because it was an accident, not something you meant to do."
"My bed is just wet. It's not pee. See?, my blanket is dry."
"Okay, honey. Good night, I love you, see you in the morning."
"Night Mom." Quiet. "Moooom! My blanket smells potty!"
Rob is more or less ready, has a strong desire, and it is summer so it seemed like an appropriate time for less sleep and more laundry. Off to be bed in his undies he went last night and I wasn't at all surprised to hear him at my bedside at 2 a.m. As we worked toward cleaning him up and getting him back to bed, our conversation went a little something like this...
"Mom, I need new pajamas."
"Okay honey, did you wet the bed?"
"No, somehow my bed is just wet. But I don't know how, because I didn't pee in it."
"It's okay, we'll go check it out and clean up the accident."
"I DIDN'T have an accident. I wouldn't pee in my bed."
"I know you wouldn't on purpose honey, but that's why it's called an accident, because it was an accident, not something you meant to do."
"My bed is just wet. It's not pee. See?, my blanket is dry."
"Okay, honey. Good night, I love you, see you in the morning."
"Night Mom." Quiet. "Moooom! My blanket smells potty!"
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
One of the Cool Kids
Was it about someone that makes them the cool kid? You know what I'm talking about. That person who seems to ooze confidence, is comfortable whatever with whoever, everyone knows his/her name, and he/she doesn't even seem to care. I wouldn't know. I am not the cool kid. But somehow I think I might be raising of them, and frankly, it scares the begeebers out of me.
Last week the boys attended VBS at out church. Even Sam. They had a wonderful time and can't stop singing the songs of praise. Especially Sam.
He walked around the church all week with his head held high and a big smile on his face. He was loving every minute of it. My favorite story from the week came from the bathroom. His crew leader went in to check on him and there was Sam bare butt in the middle of the bathroom, sitting on the floor, humming away as happily was can be working hard to get his inside out undies on. His crew leader thought it'd be weird to help him switch those around, so he let it slide. He did try to help Sam get his shorts on but Sam insisted they be backwards. So there went Sam the rest of the day, with his inside out undies, backwards shorts, and air of confidence and happiness through the rest of the morning.
As we were leaving on Day 5, I was astonished by the number of children ages 3 to 15 who made a point to tell Sam good bye. As we loaded into the car and another car pulled over so the kids could hang out the window and tell Sam good bye, I heard one girl tell her dad, "Dad, that's Sam. The one I was telling you about. Isn't he just the cutest kid in the world? And he's so funny!"" That when it hit, I, a total dork, just may be raising a "cool kid" and I have no idea what I'm doing.
Last week the boys attended VBS at out church. Even Sam. They had a wonderful time and can't stop singing the songs of praise. Especially Sam.
He walked around the church all week with his head held high and a big smile on his face. He was loving every minute of it. My favorite story from the week came from the bathroom. His crew leader went in to check on him and there was Sam bare butt in the middle of the bathroom, sitting on the floor, humming away as happily was can be working hard to get his inside out undies on. His crew leader thought it'd be weird to help him switch those around, so he let it slide. He did try to help Sam get his shorts on but Sam insisted they be backwards. So there went Sam the rest of the day, with his inside out undies, backwards shorts, and air of confidence and happiness through the rest of the morning.
As we were leaving on Day 5, I was astonished by the number of children ages 3 to 15 who made a point to tell Sam good bye. As we loaded into the car and another car pulled over so the kids could hang out the window and tell Sam good bye, I heard one girl tell her dad, "Dad, that's Sam. The one I was telling you about. Isn't he just the cutest kid in the world? And he's so funny!"" That when it hit, I, a total dork, just may be raising a "cool kid" and I have no idea what I'm doing.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Wx #6 Revealed!
We started our evening with our menu of baby cuisine. Baby carrots, baby pickles, baby cocktail wieners, baby burgers, baby crackers, baby cheese slices, baby pepperoni, you get the idea. Following dinner, we took the pinata out to the swing set to bust it open!
The boys took turns swinging at the mysterious pinata and Ray took the final swing sending it to the ground. Upon shaking the pinata, candy, confetti and ribbons oh my. But what color where they??? That is THE reason you are reading this blog after all right?
Well, frankly, I'm having too much fun keeping you all in suspense! The texts and alerts have been coming in all day. (Not to mention and the cameras and computers have not exactly cooperated with me in getting this published.) Of course I could just tell you, but where the fun be in that? Especially since the whole reason I wanted to find out was to capture the boys' reactionsI'll show you instead.
Join our family by clicking the link below as we take aim at the pinata and discover as our family finds out if the answer to our question is pink or blue.
Wix # 6 Revealed!
Happy Baby Reveal Day from the Wx Family!
The boys took turns swinging at the mysterious pinata and Ray took the final swing sending it to the ground. Upon shaking the pinata, candy, confetti and ribbons oh my. But what color where they??? That is THE reason you are reading this blog after all right?
Well, frankly, I'm having too much fun keeping you all in suspense! The texts and alerts have been coming in all day. (Not to mention and the cameras and computers have not exactly cooperated with me in getting this published.) Of course I could just tell you, but where the fun be in that? Especially since the whole reason I wanted to find out was to capture the boys' reactionsI'll show you instead.
Join our family by clicking the link below as we take aim at the pinata and discover as our family finds out if the answer to our question is pink or blue.
Wix # 6 Revealed!
Happy Baby Reveal Day from the Wx Family!
Wx # 6! Boy or Girl?!?!?!
21 weeks today!!! Wow. It has gone quickly. I think each pregnancy gets faster and faster. (Or maybe time just seems to speed up as I get older and older...)
The gender question. It has been weighing on us for weeks now. To find out now or have a surprise later? Frankly, I hate surprises. And going that route with Sam was okay, but if the doctor had told me I had a healthy baby octopus after delivery, I think I would have been okay with that. Well, maybe not. But it didn't feel anti-climatic to me, but the bigger drawback in my opinion was not being able to see the reaction on the boys' faces when it was announced their new baby was here and it was a brother. Grandma got the job.
The boys are split. Ray wants a boy, Rob wants a girl ("who is nothing like Sam because he a naught little guy") and Sam wants a baby dinosaur he can name Rhino. Michael and I want a baby. I think it might be a boy. Or a girl. (I had thought maybe an octopus, but the ultrasound only revealed 4 limbs.)
Using my keen debate skills, I used this line of reasoning to get Michael on board. I laid out some reveal options to him and we settled on the current fad of cupcakes with surprise filling to help us see pink or blue. Then I logged on to the computer. Talk about a fad. It seemed like FB was full or reports of the same idea. So I got busy thinking. What else could one use to conceal a colorful surprise that upon opening would be fun for the family??
Box of balloons? Gift box with pink or blue gear? Nursery room with a streak of paint on the wall? These all seemed bad for the environment or lame. Then I got it! PINATA! Who doesn't love a pinata and some candy?!?!
Off to Rochester we headed to buy a pinata and candy at Party City. We had fun choosing just the right pinata and handfuls of pink and blue candy and confetti together was a family. We brought the pinata home and had even more fun personalizing it.
Yesterday, at my ultrasound, the first tech had a heck of a time getting baby to cooperate and I was getting anxious that we weren't going to get to open the pinata for months. After rolling to my side and bringing in a second tech, they were able to write our secret in an envelope and seal it up tight. Last night the pinata, candy and card were given to our secret under cover agents for pinata stuffing.
Today is the big day. The baby carrots and pickles are chilling. The mini cocktail weiners are ready for saucing. The mini-burgers are ready for patty-ing and we are ready for a baby party like none other!
When the pinata breaks, Rob's still hoping for pink, Ray's still wishing for blue, and Sam would like green. I'm just hoping for a great picture of their reactions.
The gender question. It has been weighing on us for weeks now. To find out now or have a surprise later? Frankly, I hate surprises. And going that route with Sam was okay, but if the doctor had told me I had a healthy baby octopus after delivery, I think I would have been okay with that. Well, maybe not. But it didn't feel anti-climatic to me, but the bigger drawback in my opinion was not being able to see the reaction on the boys' faces when it was announced their new baby was here and it was a brother. Grandma got the job.
The boys are split. Ray wants a boy, Rob wants a girl ("who is nothing like Sam because he a naught little guy") and Sam wants a baby dinosaur he can name Rhino. Michael and I want a baby. I think it might be a boy. Or a girl. (I had thought maybe an octopus, but the ultrasound only revealed 4 limbs.)
Using my keen debate skills, I used this line of reasoning to get Michael on board. I laid out some reveal options to him and we settled on the current fad of cupcakes with surprise filling to help us see pink or blue. Then I logged on to the computer. Talk about a fad. It seemed like FB was full or reports of the same idea. So I got busy thinking. What else could one use to conceal a colorful surprise that upon opening would be fun for the family??
Box of balloons? Gift box with pink or blue gear? Nursery room with a streak of paint on the wall? These all seemed bad for the environment or lame. Then I got it! PINATA! Who doesn't love a pinata and some candy?!?!
Yesterday, at my ultrasound, the first tech had a heck of a time getting baby to cooperate and I was getting anxious that we weren't going to get to open the pinata for months. After rolling to my side and bringing in a second tech, they were able to write our secret in an envelope and seal it up tight. Last night the pinata, candy and card were given to our secret under cover agents for pinata stuffing.
Today is the big day. The baby carrots and pickles are chilling. The mini cocktail weiners are ready for saucing. The mini-burgers are ready for patty-ing and we are ready for a baby party like none other!
When the pinata breaks, Rob's still hoping for pink, Ray's still wishing for blue, and Sam would like green. I'm just hoping for a great picture of their reactions.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Another?!?! Take 2
November 9, 2011. I posted a blog. If you don't recall, let me jog your memory...
Rob said a little prayer. His request was simple enough. He wanted a new baby.
Well, is this proof enough for you that God hears prayers? :)
I had told him to think pink because Mom really likes pink, and I do. Frankly, I am great either way. A girl would be fun, but we do know a thing or two about boys around the Wx house!
Rob said a little prayer. His request was simple enough. He wanted a new baby.
Well, is this proof enough for you that God hears prayers? :)
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| Baby Wicks #4 EDD: October 26, 2012 |
Welcome Wookiee!
On December 24th 2011, our family welcomed our newest member, Wookiee Wicks.
And just as promptly, Wookiee became one of the family.
Wookiee was found wandering around outside our home on Christmas Eve upon our return from church. Ray noticed, "He has a collar, but no license! I think that means we can keep him!"
Upon 1st greeting, the boys were all in love. He is really quite a loveable lug. But I thought we were getting a dog. (He has since turned into a horse as he seems to double in size nightly on a regular basis!!) The cute little furball was 1st thought to be possible be another Ewok, but I quickly pointed out to the boys he was a baby and would surely grow, it was then decided it was then clear that he was a wookiee and hence he was promptly named.
Wrestle!
First of all, I apologize for my lack of posts. I guess we've been a bit distracted with life lately. As I sometimes say, "Life gets in the way of life too often."
In addition to our regular jobs, school, etc. I took on a 2nd job directing our school's annual benefit auction.
Rob also took on the sport of wrestling. He had a GREAT season. When he started, we were just going to do practices. When the coaches gave him a singlet to bring home, we decided what they heck, let's try a tournament. He took 2nd. So we tried another, we took 1st getting 2 pins, with the longest one taking 10 seconds. This lead us to regions, where Rob took 1st. Off to sections where Rob took 4th and qualified for State. Additionally, so did the Austin Youth Wrestling team for the 1st time in history! So we spent March 31 and April 1 at the Rochester Civic Center at Rob's 1st state meet. No placing for Rob, but he wrestled hard and never gave up. In one of the team competitions, he did get a pin, which was very exciting.
Not sure what the future holds for our little grappler, but we are very proud of his grit, determination, and effort. I'm sure he has many successes in a variety of forms laying ahead of him if he tackles life in the same way!
We are proud to have been part of Austin Youth Wrestling team, who ended up placing 2nd in their pool. And even more so, we are proud of you Rob!
In addition to our regular jobs, school, etc. I took on a 2nd job directing our school's annual benefit auction.
Rob also took on the sport of wrestling. He had a GREAT season. When he started, we were just going to do practices. When the coaches gave him a singlet to bring home, we decided what they heck, let's try a tournament. He took 2nd. So we tried another, we took 1st getting 2 pins, with the longest one taking 10 seconds. This lead us to regions, where Rob took 1st. Off to sections where Rob took 4th and qualified for State. Additionally, so did the Austin Youth Wrestling team for the 1st time in history! So we spent March 31 and April 1 at the Rochester Civic Center at Rob's 1st state meet. No placing for Rob, but he wrestled hard and never gave up. In one of the team competitions, he did get a pin, which was very exciting.
Not sure what the future holds for our little grappler, but we are very proud of his grit, determination, and effort. I'm sure he has many successes in a variety of forms laying ahead of him if he tackles life in the same way!
We are proud to have been part of Austin Youth Wrestling team, who ended up placing 2nd in their pool. And even more so, we are proud of you Rob!
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Where IS that Camera?!?!
I have it said more than once in my life and say it frequently now as the mother of 3 unique boys, "Where IS that Camera?!?!" Sometimes I am quite certain that our life would make a hit reality show or maybe an award winning primetime family comedy. Yesterday was a perfect scenario...
Characters: Michael-the father figure of the family. Type A(a) personality. All T's must be crossed and all i's must be dotted at all times, no exceptions. Boots never go with shorts and black never goes with brown and that includes when toddlers put their own shoes on.
Robert-Middle child, age 5. Traits: stubborn, spontaneous, stubborn, imaginative, stubborn, unique, stubborn, strong willed, and STUBBORN.
Billie Jo-the mother, but in this case, useless to all as she lies ill in bed.
Setting: While outside it is a cold and frosty Minnesota Saturday morning, the Wicks family is inside their rural single family residence.
Plot: Michael versus Rob.
Rob has been on a big shorts and tank top kick lately. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. He certainly doesn't get it from me. I am typing this in my hooded sweatshirt, fleece pants, wool socks and slippers. Even still, yesterday morning he declared, "Summertime! It's summertime outside!" and came out of his bedroom donning blue and white pin stripe shorts and a tank top.
When I took to my bedroom ill yesterday morning, Michael decided to round up the crew and head to Target. There was a prescription waiting and we were nearly out of toilet paper. (Sam is potty training and goes through A LOT lately, which reminds me of another blog entry to author...) Michael told Rob he needed to wear pants so they could go to the store. Rob refused. Michael insisted.
Rob took off at top speed. I heard my bedroom door quickly open and then latch. Click! The locked was pressed in. Quick! Under the covers Rob flew. Whoosh! Back out. Approaching footsteps in the hallways. Flip. Under the bed. Scurry, scurry, he was gone into my closet.
(Now this sort of thing may have disturbed some for their rest, but honestly, I was barely phased. I peered out one eye for about 2.2 seconds.)
Click! Michael unlocked the door. "He's in the closet." I told Michael. PHEM! "He was in the closet."
Rob escaped through our laundry pass through into the laundry room next door. He then locked that door. And escaped again into the boys' bathroom through the next laundry pass through. That is where he was apprehended and sentenced to a day in denim.
Conclusion: After some screaming and the promise of a slushie and popcorn, the W-X boys all have a successful outing to Target while Mom stays behind for a more successful attempt at resting.
Characters: Michael-the father figure of the family. Type A(a) personality. All T's must be crossed and all i's must be dotted at all times, no exceptions. Boots never go with shorts and black never goes with brown and that includes when toddlers put their own shoes on.
Robert-Middle child, age 5. Traits: stubborn, spontaneous, stubborn, imaginative, stubborn, unique, stubborn, strong willed, and STUBBORN.
Billie Jo-the mother, but in this case, useless to all as she lies ill in bed.
Setting: While outside it is a cold and frosty Minnesota Saturday morning, the Wicks family is inside their rural single family residence.
Plot: Michael versus Rob.
Rob has been on a big shorts and tank top kick lately. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. He certainly doesn't get it from me. I am typing this in my hooded sweatshirt, fleece pants, wool socks and slippers. Even still, yesterday morning he declared, "Summertime! It's summertime outside!" and came out of his bedroom donning blue and white pin stripe shorts and a tank top.
When I took to my bedroom ill yesterday morning, Michael decided to round up the crew and head to Target. There was a prescription waiting and we were nearly out of toilet paper. (Sam is potty training and goes through A LOT lately, which reminds me of another blog entry to author...) Michael told Rob he needed to wear pants so they could go to the store. Rob refused. Michael insisted.
Rob took off at top speed. I heard my bedroom door quickly open and then latch. Click! The locked was pressed in. Quick! Under the covers Rob flew. Whoosh! Back out. Approaching footsteps in the hallways. Flip. Under the bed. Scurry, scurry, he was gone into my closet.
(Now this sort of thing may have disturbed some for their rest, but honestly, I was barely phased. I peered out one eye for about 2.2 seconds.)
Click! Michael unlocked the door. "He's in the closet." I told Michael. PHEM! "He was in the closet."
Rob escaped through our laundry pass through into the laundry room next door. He then locked that door. And escaped again into the boys' bathroom through the next laundry pass through. That is where he was apprehended and sentenced to a day in denim.
Conclusion: After some screaming and the promise of a slushie and popcorn, the W-X boys all have a successful outing to Target while Mom stays behind for a more successful attempt at resting.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Dinner with the W-X
I haven't blogged for awhile. It isn't that things blog worthy don't happen, it's more about finding, or taking the time to actually write about them. At dinner tonight I rolled my eyes and said, "I think I have to excuse myself now and go blog." Let me back up to the thirty minutes prior...
As I as preparing to set dinner on the table, I looked at Michael and said, "Which of the boys will refuse to eat this?" I had made what my mom called Swiss Steak, although as an adult I'm not sure that is an accurate reflection of what it really is. I think my friend Mary's teenage son would have a much more accurate description of the meal with his classic "Another low budget meal at our house" line. Dinner consisted of round steaks (which I have also frequently questioned the accuracy of that descriptor) baked in cream of mushroom and cream of celery soups. Straight from the oven it is not the most appealing looking dish and for boyz, that can make or break dinner.
Upon first glance, Rob wrinkles up his nose and says, "EW! I'm not eating that!"
"It's just meat with gravy Rob."
"I don't like gravy. You know I HATE meat with gravy."
"Then you can eat some baked potato and green beans."
"NO! Why do always make meat with gravy when you know I hate. You always make things you know I don't like."
"Rob, that's not true. I almost never make gravy. Just eat some green beans and potato."
"No, I'm eating a lemontime." (Or clementine, whatever.)
"You can have that after you at least try some of your dinner."
"NOOOOO!" This sort of thing continued for another minute or so till Michael picked Rob up and hauled him to his bedroom. Rob continued carrying on for a bit until we nearly done eating. He resurfaced at the table with his big eyes looking rather sorrowful.
"I'm hungry. But I don't like eating cold food."
"You're lucky we have a microwave. Would you like me to warm your food up?" Michael asked.
Rob nodded and Michael zapped. As Michael set Rob's recently reheated entree in front of him, Rob stuns with me with his next question, "Can I have gravy on my potatoes?"
"What?!"
"Can I have some gravy on my potatoes? But not on my meat. I hate gravy on my meat."
Sigh. "Sure you can bud." Rob scarfs down his first serving of potatoes and gravy and asks for another. The even bigger surprise, when I caught him slyly dipping his meat into the gravy when he thought no one was looking.
That was when I pushed my chair away and excuse myself to go blog. But instead I started washing dishes. As the last of the table was cleared and I was scrapping the leftovers into tupperware, Rob's head pops up along side the counter and says, "Mom, don't forget to save the gravy!!!" I had to laugh as I scooped the last scoop of it into the container and secured the lid. And then I logged on to my blog.
As I as preparing to set dinner on the table, I looked at Michael and said, "Which of the boys will refuse to eat this?" I had made what my mom called Swiss Steak, although as an adult I'm not sure that is an accurate reflection of what it really is. I think my friend Mary's teenage son would have a much more accurate description of the meal with his classic "Another low budget meal at our house" line. Dinner consisted of round steaks (which I have also frequently questioned the accuracy of that descriptor) baked in cream of mushroom and cream of celery soups. Straight from the oven it is not the most appealing looking dish and for boyz, that can make or break dinner.
Upon first glance, Rob wrinkles up his nose and says, "EW! I'm not eating that!"
"It's just meat with gravy Rob."
"I don't like gravy. You know I HATE meat with gravy."
"Then you can eat some baked potato and green beans."
"NO! Why do always make meat with gravy when you know I hate. You always make things you know I don't like."
"Rob, that's not true. I almost never make gravy. Just eat some green beans and potato."
"No, I'm eating a lemontime." (Or clementine, whatever.)
"You can have that after you at least try some of your dinner."
"NOOOOO!" This sort of thing continued for another minute or so till Michael picked Rob up and hauled him to his bedroom. Rob continued carrying on for a bit until we nearly done eating. He resurfaced at the table with his big eyes looking rather sorrowful.
"I'm hungry. But I don't like eating cold food."
"You're lucky we have a microwave. Would you like me to warm your food up?" Michael asked.
Rob nodded and Michael zapped. As Michael set Rob's recently reheated entree in front of him, Rob stuns with me with his next question, "Can I have gravy on my potatoes?"
"What?!"
"Can I have some gravy on my potatoes? But not on my meat. I hate gravy on my meat."
Sigh. "Sure you can bud." Rob scarfs down his first serving of potatoes and gravy and asks for another. The even bigger surprise, when I caught him slyly dipping his meat into the gravy when he thought no one was looking.
That was when I pushed my chair away and excuse myself to go blog. But instead I started washing dishes. As the last of the table was cleared and I was scrapping the leftovers into tupperware, Rob's head pops up along side the counter and says, "Mom, don't forget to save the gravy!!!" I had to laugh as I scooped the last scoop of it into the container and secured the lid. And then I logged on to my blog.
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