Raising a Reader

All parents hold their newborns close to the heart and dream dreams of what that child will grow to do.  First steps, first words, first day of school, and on and on.  We all have different hopes and dreams for what our children will do and who they will become.  Books and reading was always part of my vision for my children.  I adore that Theo's face glows when he discovers a book.  I love hearing Sam ask 100 times a day if he just made a rhyme.  I get giddy with excitement when Rob reads a word a little harder than ones he could read yesterday.  I smile to myself when I catch Ray sneaking a few more pages.  I love reading.  I love my boys.  And I especially love that my boys love reading.

So what is the downfall of this?  How could there be right?  When they just don't know when to stop!

Ray's third grade conference:  His teacher's biggest "complaint" was he that he just didn't know when to stop.  He was having to be told to put the book away.  Close the book.  Time to work.  Time to listen.  But even still, he just couldn't help himself.  It was as if the book was like a magnet that wouldn't stop pulling on him.  He doesn't even realize he's doing it.

I can't even begin to count the number of times a week I have to tell the boy to put the book away.  It's bedtime Ray, put the book down.  It's time to get out of bed Ray, put the book down.  We're ready to eat now Ray, put the book down.  Finish getting dressed Ray, put the book down.  We're ready to leave and you still don't have your shoes tied? Put the book down!

So when I got a call yesterday that Ray has having bus trouble, I immediately knew why.  I got a call that Ray was on a bus but wasn't sure if he was on the right bus, where was he suppose to go after school?  He was suppose to ride the bus to daycare.  That was the bus he had gotten on, but he hadn't gotten off.  He was so absorbed in his book that he rode right past his stop.  By the time he realized it, he panicked.  His brother was not there so he thought he was on the wrong bus.  Rob had been there, he just got off when was suppose to.  After a phone call or 4 by the bus company, they safely deposited him at daycare.

Sigh.  What am I gonna do with that kid?  Who'd thunk threatening to take all his books away would be the best threat I could think of?

Privacy???

After a 3rd child barged into bathroom I said, "May I please have 1 minute of privacy to get out of shower?" 

"I'll give you privacy Mama, just pretend I'm not here."

 Gee, thanks Sam.

After Curtain Call

Ray and I have been actively involved in our local theatre company for children, Matchbox, for the summer production of Pinocchio. For weeks we have been off to rehearsal and this isn't always without protest from the other boys. Tonight we opened for a Friends and Family viewing. Michael brought the boys and after the show I asked Sam if he liked it.
"Yes I did."
"What was your favorite part?"
"The popcorn!"
Well duh. I'm the one dumb enough to ask.

The Fair is Coming, The Fair is Coming!

It's that time of year again.  August in Austin means FAIR TIME!  The sight of the ferris wheels lights spinning in the sky, the smell of corn dogs, that taster of cotton candy, ah, I love the fair.  And so do my boys.  We drive past the fair grounds multiple times a day most every day and they often recount stories from fairs past.

In the days leading up to the fair, the sight of tractors and trailers had them very excited.  Heard from the backseat:

"The fair is so close I can almost taste the puke in my mouth!!!!" exclaimed a very excited 9 year old Ray.

That may not be my favorite sensory experience of the fair, but to each their own!

A Hippo in the Bathroom

As the mom of 4 boys, the opportunity to shower in complete peace and quiet is rare.  Very rare.  Like finding a unicorn rare.  Maybe even finding a winged unicorn rare.  This frequently results is some interesting, to say the least, bathroom discussions.

"Toilet paper is for helping your butt to stop pooping, right Mama?" asked Sam as I was finishing my shower yesterday morning.

"Not exactly. You need to finish pooping first and then toilet paper is for cleaning your bottom."

"I did let my butt finish pooping.  It's one big hippo poop.  See him in there?  He's like a Dada hippo poop. Hello Dada Hippo!"

"That's great Sam."

"Now I'm stopping my butt from pooping more," as he continues wiping.

A minute or 2 later, "It didn't work!  I have to go more poopy!" exclaims Sam as he clenches his legs together and has a pained expression on his face.

"Then you should sit down and finish Sam."

"Ahhh!  It was just a baby hippo.  He wanted to be with his Dada."

Three Wishes

This is an essay Ray wrote for school in 3rd grade.

If I had three wishs I woud wish for... a year of good luck for my mom and dad.  Then I wished for a century of peace.  I wished the world would have no hungry people.  I was feeling good.  My mom and dad spill soda a lot.  The world could start war any second.  Also food wouldn't be a promple.

I didn't know I spilled soda enough for it to rank right up there with world peace and hunger!  ;)

Help For Your Head

In the middle of the night, Sam was up with a fever.  Getting up with him was difficult as I don't remember the last time I slept 6 consecutive hours, let alone 8.  4 might be a more realistic estimation.  Our home has been plagued with fever and cough for the better part of 2013.  However, when someone says his stomach hurts, it has a tendency to jumpstart me.  For as much as I love sleep, I dislike cleaning up puke just as much, maybe more!  So I quickly sprang from my bed and steered Sam straight for the bathroom and threw up the seat lid in case he might throw up too.  As I held him, it was obvious he was on fire.  After  a few minutes of nothing, I decided the tummy trouble must just be nausea from fever so I set out for some supplies to help us get a little more rest.

When I returned with Tylenol and an old kitchen pot, Sam's face lit up. "Is that for me to puke in?" Sam enthusiastically inquired.

"Only if you need to," I said.

"Yippee!" Sam grabbed for the pot and hugged it tight with a cheshire type grin.

The Tylenol was not received as gleefully and took some coaxing and it was once again clear how yuck the lil guy felt.  Mid agony, Sam suddenly looked up at me, placed a hand on my shoulder and lovingly said, "Hey Mom, next time you have a headache, I know what you should do."

"What's that Sam?"

"Get some Scalpicin.  It'll get the itch out.  You'll feel better in no time" he replied with knowing eyes and a sweet smile before dropping his head back to my shoulder.

After making up a bed on my floor, I climbed into bed a smile washed over my face and I couldn't help thinking, "Oh my sweet, silly Sammi.  Thank you God for letting me be his mommy."