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.

"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 ;)