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.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
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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