I was given the invitation this past weekend. Chuck & Gavin designed a sweet little number inviting me to a dinner date at our house – formal attire none-the-less – for Valentine’s Day. I have to say, this was one of the best ‘dates’ I’ve ever been on.
The kids love keeping secrets. Gavin even had all the instructions Chuck gave him written down and shoved into his shirt pocket. I noticed him consult his all important list several times. And of course, they were dressed to the nines. Both boys donned their Sunday best. Just to give you a visual image: clip-on ties all caddy-wompus, shirt-tails un-tucked, pants pulled up way above their belly-buttons and no socks or shoes.
Chuck was sweet to come home from work and immediately get started on the ‘secret dinner’. I was given alone time in the bedroom which frustrated Chloe to no end. We ended up dancing, playing on the bed and playing Batman for a large chunk of that ‘alone time’ – not that I minded at all. The boys also had the good sense to ‘help’ me pick out my formal attire. I will not give you a visual description of what they chose for me to wear. Suffice it to say, there was much compromising going on.
After Chloe was cuddled, sung to and fast asleep in her bed, ‘Operation Valentine’ was put into action. Chuck ran down the ‘list’ one last time with Gavin and then whisked me away, out the front door. We sat out on our patio for a few minutes while the boys finished their final preparations inside. When we knocked on the door, we were greeted by a frantic Gavin. He was visibly upset that Bennett had strayed from ‘the plan’. Instead of turning on the c.d. player, Bennett unknowingly opened the c.d. player and neither one knew how to fix it. Chuck calmly intervened and the mini crisis was over. We repeated the whole knock on the door thing.
The boys were just so giddy about the whole idea – that their Daddy actually wanted and needed their help for this special occasion. They couldn’t wipe off the silly grins from their faces. Nor could they stop bouncing around. I don’t think they walked anywhere all night – they just jumped from one thing to the next. Their whole body burst with excitement.
Our table was the small kids table we normally keep upstairs for the kids’ to work on. It was placed strategically in the living room. Frank Sinatra provided the lovely background music. The boys set the miniature table beautifully. Gavin even made up a name for the ‘restaurant’ and taped it to the fireplace. Come to find out we were eating at the: G & B Restrront.
I was a little nervous during the whole candle lighting. Gavin had figured out how to use the fire starter, but had not quite mastered the whole aiming thing. Bennett brought us little valentine’s cards he had written. Matter of fact, we got four cards. He just couldn’t stay away from us. He wanted to just pull up a chair and hang out with us. When he wasn’t bouncing around like Tigger bringing us cards, he was just staring at us with a huge grin on his face or refilling my water glass.
It was so cute to see their excitement and servant hearts. This was truly love in action and the best gift I have ever received for Valentine’s Day.
Okay, so here’s the story…my friend and I meet at a park. We have a total of 7 children between the two of us. We heard there was this really cool natural point of interest called “Jacob’s Ladder”. So, we did a little asking at the park we were at and come to find out, the object of our desire is a mere 100 yards away.
We really weren’t all that sure what this “Jacob’s Ladder” was. We were under the assumption it was some sort of suspension bridge. Neither of us were in our home city. We each drove quite a distance to meet one another in a central location to enjoy a wonderful day outside. That’s why, if we appear clueless about this beautiful natural tourist attraction, it is because we were.
Knowing the ages of the 7 children involved is quite important. My friend has a 5 month old in one arm, a 2 ½ year old lagging behind her, 4 & 6 year old boys running like gazelles 10 yards ahead of us. I, of course, have the fearless superheroes for children. They believe they ARE Spiderman and Batman; therefore, no harm can ever befall them. I also have my little diva attached to my hip. Anything that resembles dirt makes her squeamish and must be instantly removed from her sight. Thus begins our journey into the unknown.
We come to what appears to be some stairs leading down toward a road. At first glance, they look like every other set of stairs. Being the anal, paranoid type of person that I am, I immediately set up guidelines for walking down these ‘stairs’. One Mommy, that would be me, will walk in front (in case anyone slips and falls they will bump into me and then I will go rolling….). The other Mommy, my friend, was to pull up the rear (in case we had a retreater, plus, her daughter insisted on walking the stairs all by herself and 2 year legs don’t go very fast).
Once you reach about the 10th step, you realize you are no longer going down a stairway, you are instead, propelling yourself and 7 children down the steep edge of a cliff. With each step your life flashes before your eyes. Being that I had Chloe on one hip, I was off balance slightly. I have difficulty walking on my own two feet by myself. Add to that my INTENSE fear of heights and the fact that I was leading this parade gave me great distress.
I do however, owe a big thanks to the makers of these ‘stairs’. They did have the foresight to add charming little wood post railings to either side. They were, unfortunately, a little on the rickety side, wobbling more than I deemed safe. Either side of the ‘stairs’ were covered with trees and underbrush. We did pass your random piñata. I was really hoping it wasn’t from a birthday party gone bad. We finally reach a small landing only to find the rest of the cliff still awaits us and appears even steeper than the first leg of our journey.
While we are all ‘resting’ on this death ledge, the children are leaning all over the rickey ‘ol railing. I am on the verge of throwing up, I’m so nervous. My legs have turned to mush. Fear is gripping me. I foresee some major rolling down a cliff in my near future and the thought is a little overwhelming. Yet, I press on, not to be one to shrink back from a challenge. Plus, I was the one leading this little excursion. What would the kids think of me?
We finally reach the bottom and turn around to look up from whence we came. We were going to need a helicopter to come in and bring us back up. There was no way in this world I was climbing up the side of a mountain with Chloe in my arms. However, that was a short lived pipe dream. We asked a bystander, who must have been enjoying the entertainment our parade provided, where this “Jacob’s Ladder” was. She looked at us like we were aliens and replied, “You just walked down it.” Duh.
This time, all four boys led the way back to the top of the cliff. Being that they had the added bonus of spider webs they could shoot out to help ease their way up the mountain, they had no problem bounding up the steps. My friend and I took slightly longer to go up. I was at the very back. I just knew I was going to fall backward at any moment. I have not experienced such a work out in my entire life. Yet, who was I to complain, I wasn’t carrying a 5 month old on my hip. If she could do it, so could I. My legs were burning, my heart was racing, sweat was dripping down my back and that was only at step 50 – where the landing was.
Once I made it to the top (the 93rd step), I wanted to fall face down on the ground and kiss it. I have never been more happy to be on flat land. I looked back over the ledge and told my friend, “If I had known that this was the adventure we were walking into, I don’t know that I would have ever done that on purpose. We might as well have just volunteered to climb the Washington Monument with all our kids in tow.” Thus ends your typical day at the park for us….until next time.
One of the games we love to play in this crazy house is the old favorite, "I Spy With My Little Eye". It brings us hours of laughs and nail-biting anticipation. However, we play it with a twist. My beloved children prefer to play this game while in a moving vehicle. This brings the added dimension of fast speeds, moving objects and quick guessing.
Of course, Bennett receives credit for tweaking this off the wall version of “I Spy”. He’s not one to do things in the ‘traditional’ or ‘accepted’ manner. You could say he’s a sort of ‘buck the system’ kinda guy (a little like his mother).
Joyously, I play this game most days as we run errands. You can imagine my delight when Bennett mumbles out the famous line, “Mommy…I spy wif my wittle eye somfin….ummm…somfin…white.” Hmmm, let me see. Could it have been that object I passed just 10 seconds ago, that we can no longer see? Or is it the clouds…again. And I shant even so much as think about suggesting an item inside the car – that would be too predictable and thus, boring.
You see, the problem with making “I Spy” a portable game is that IT IS NOT PORTABLE! You are supposed to play this game while sitting still. Nothing around you should be moving. You are not supposed to pick objects 5 seconds behind you or 10 seconds ahead of you.
One day when he has a firmer grasp of the “I Spy Rules”, I shall attempt to make this a house game only. But until then, I have my ol’ stand by answers ready…the clouds, the sky, that light post, the stop sign, the tree or that red car over there.
The ONLY reason my son chose this game was to once again, mess with my already confused mind. I am loosing brain cells by the minute these days. And he knows it. He hits me where I’m weakest. How can a mother refuse to play a game with her child. She can’t. Even though this game drives me to the verge of insanity, I must play. Its called, unconditional love.
I know one day the tables will be turned. One day (far, far from now), I will be old and gray and Bennett will be driving me back and forth from doctor visit to doctor visit and a distant memory will come rushing back. That’s when I’ll blurt out, “Bennett, I spy with my little eye something…” And he’ll play with me, because he’ll remember that I played with him.
In every baby book there is a place for 'firsts'. I remember Gavin's first word was "Hoagie" - we had no idea what it meant. But we rushed to write it down in his baby book none-the-less.
Then along came Bennett. I don't exactly recall what his first word was. Obviously, I didn't write it down. It was either "boom-boom" (for hammer) or "vuh-vuh" (for brother).
Then along came Chloe. Life is flying by at this stage of the game. How pathetic is it that I can’t even remember what her first word was? But I do remember her first sentence. Since there is no place in her baby book for ‘first sentence’, I think this would be a fine place to record it for all posterity.
My sweet little baby girl, ‘Lo-lo’ as she calls herself, up and blurted out one day, “MOMMMMEEEEEE…beee lellow tuck!” Just so you don’t get lost in translation, let me decode that for you. My DAUGHTER’s first sentence was: Mommy, big yellow truck. Why would that be my daughter’s first sentence? Why couldn’t she say, “Mommy, let’s go shopping” or “Mommy, lipstick please.”
I have a feeling she’s being too heavily influenced by her two older brothers.
So, here I am doing laundry today when all of the sudden I run into a problem. Not that I noticed it was a problem at first. Sometimes I find myself a little too dense to notice things right in front of me. That being said, maybe you'll understand my little 'issue'.
As I was unloading the washing machine of its contents, I noticed some gum wrappers and a few spots of wet, globby gum masses left in the bottom of the barrel. Thankfully, these masses were not stuck to the wet clothes.
Now, at this point, I'm sure any reasonable person would have thought to maybe check the pockets of any and all clothing in the pile in order to ensure that there was no more gum to be found. Not me. It never even crossed my mind...that is, until I got the clothes out of the dryer. That's when I noticed a sticky substance clinging to the inside of my dryer.
My first thought, "Aw, Man!"
My second thought, "Duh, Cori. Why didn't you check to see if there was anymore gum left in any pockets?"
The only answer I could think to give myself was, "Do you really think I have time to be digging through a pile of wet clothes looking for some miscellaneous piece of leftover gum in some wet, scrunched up pocket?" By this time, the argument in my head is progressing rather rapidly.
Now I'm under tremendous pressure to make a decision that will affect the entire progression of laundry for the rest of the day. These were the choices I felt I had before me:
1. Abandon all laundry for the rest of the day until Chuck gets home to 'fix it' for me. In choosing this option, I would also be helping to boost my dear husband’s desire to be needed and fix things - so this option was highly plausible.
2. Begin the search and rescue effort of the random piece of gum that would now be dried and stuck inside a pocket of already 'clean clothes'. This posed another dilemma, were my clothes really 'clean' now? Was I expected to go back and rewash and redry the entire load because of one little piece of gum wrapper and a little stickiness left on some clothes. I couldn't even deal with that thought. I decided to ignore it.
3. Clean the inside of the dryer myself. But with what? And how? And I might get a crick in my neck. And what would the kids think of their mother as they watched her top half stuck inside the dryer with her butt up in the air while precariously balancing upon a chair I would have had to drag into the small utility room. This option was looking worse and worse by the minute.
Mind you, all of these options are presenting themselves in warp speed across the frontal lobe of my already overused brain (I’m assuming that’s where all reasoning takes place). Within seconds I opt for #1. Boosting Chuck’s self esteem by appearing to be a damsel in distress with a dryer dilemma looked to be the only reasonable option.
Immediately upon Chuck’s arrival home, I presented the problem. I could see his mind already processing the information and deriving a plan before I even reached the end of my sentence. A solution had been found and he would be the one to put ‘the plan’ into action.
Unfortunately, once I heard ‘the plan’, I was a little leery of how effective it may or may not be. But beggars can’t be choosers. So, I just watched. My sweet husband got out his beloved can of “Goof Off”. This is supposed to be a multipurpose cleaning agent that can even remove car grease from under men’s finger nails. However, nowhere on the can did I see it as a solvent for removing dried, wet gum from inside the dryer barrel. I did read that it was not supposed to be stored anyplace that was 120 degrees or greater (doesn’t the dryer reach 120 degrees?). And I did read that fact to my sweet husband as he was suffocating while applying this most offensive odor all throughout the inside of the dryer.
First of all, he didn’t really like that I was reading the can to him. And second of all, he didn’t really care. So, I responded that if he didn’t care about our dryer going up in flames since it was smothered in “Goof Off”, I wouldn’t either. That always goes over well. So then he proceeded to Windex the entire inside of the dryer.
I can now proudly say that as I sit here I am happily drying a new, gum-free load of clothes and they don’t smell like “Goof Off”.
This has indeed been a very good day. Thank you, Baby, for coming to my rescue. Unfortunately, this is a very true and unembellished story - who in their right mind could think to make up a problem like this?!
I recently bought a new purse. This fact did not go un-noticed by my oldest - Gavin. As we were driving in the van this morning, he evidently had a good vantage point of my purse from his seat. Upon studying it for a few minutes he asks the only logical question, "Mom, don't you already have a purse?"
"Why yes, Honey, I do. You have good observational skills."
"Then why did you want another one?" To a seven year old, the fact that I now have two purses is beyond reason.
"Well, Sweetie, I just liked it. I thought it was pretty. Don't you? Sometimes Mommys like to have different purses for different days." He has yet to know about the 'purse stash' I keep in my closest. If he were to ever find all the other purses I bought because they 'were pretty', he would probably freak out. And yes, I'll be the first to admit, I have a 'purse problem', if that's what you want to call it. I like them. Some women like jewelry, some shoes, others clothes. My vice is purses - pretty ones.
Then, as if an explosive idea just revealed itself to him, he informs me, "That looks like it would be a nice purse to take to Hobby Lobby. And you could take your other purse to the Bank. But I think they would both look good to go to the grocery store with."
"Thank you, Gavin. I love your ideas. I think I would like to take my purse to Hobby Lobby with me." I think I just opened up his world to a whole new horizon. To think that Mommys might use a different purse on a different day. Wow. Life just became a lot more complex now. But I'm glad I have a helper to encourage me in my purse selection for the day now.
This morning I loaded the dishwasher, put it on and left the room. A typical cycle normally lasts about an hour - max. I've also been doing laundry all morning which means I have to walk through the kitchen to get to the laundry room. Every time I walked past the dishwasher, it was still on. I really didn't pay much mind to it. However, after walking past the kitchen with the 4th load of clothes I thought to myself, "...hmmm, shouldn't the dishes be done by now?" It's been like 4 hours by this point. I admit, sometimes I'm not too bright, so it takes me a while to catch on to things.
How was I to know that my little 'helper' (let's call her Chloe), loves to put the dishwasher on - just because she knows how. So, all morning long, anytime she passed it and it wasn't making a noise, she thought she'd 'help' me and turn the dial back on again. How thoughtful. Two thoughts flashed across my mind upon this realization, 1. how long has she been 'helping' me like this? and 2. what in the world is my water bill going to look like? I guess I should be thankful that she's a clean freak like me. At least she wasn't emptying the dishwasher and rubbing peanut butter all over my clean dishes.
Thank you, my dear. Evidently, we have alot of 'training sessions' coming our way in the art of domestic engineering.
I don't know that anyone has heard (or should ever hear) the following types of comments come forth out of the mouth of one of their offspring. These comments in no way reflect the opinions, values, actions or beliefs of the writer. They are entirely original comments from our beloved son, Bennett. I don't even have an explanation for these. I think they speak for themselves....
"Gavin, here's a question. When did you start liking watermelon?"
"Mom. I think I'm going to stop picking my nose now."
"Why is my bottom connected?"
"Gavin, can you please wipe my butt? NOW!"
Two incidents come to mind where Bennett has put me to shame. Both of them this weekend. The first happened today. I had given Chloe a warning regarding her behavior and told her that if she didn't stop, she would have to sit in time-out. She chose to be defiant and thereby, I was forced to make good on my threat. Sadly, I picked my almost 2 year old up and placed her in the time-out chair.
To Bennett, Chloe can do no wrong. She is a princess and he treats her as such. If I dare do something to make the princess cry, I will pay. Today, I paid with a sly little comment that came out of his little, innocent mouth. And it was directed at me, although said to anyone who would listen. He says, "Who ever heard of a baby having to sit in time out before?"
If that was meant to make me feel guilty, it worked.
The second opportunity he had to put me to shame occurred yesterday. I was having a very bad day yesterday. My attitude was in the dumps. Nobody could say or do anything right, it seemed. And it only went from bad to worse. I needed a major attitude adjustment and God knew exactly what would work. A good dose of humility should help.
After a long time of awkward silence while riding in the car, Bennett makes a statement. He declares, "I fink we should do sumfin as a fam-i-ly." This did not bode well with me. The only thing I could think of was the fact that we were on our way home from 'doing something as a family'. We were just at the park, playing our little hearts out. I decided to remind him of that fact, to which he replied, "I didn't mean dat, Mom. I mean, I fink we should fay (pray)." When I asked why he said, "Because it will make us happy again."
How true that is! God used my sensitive little 4 year old to show me how my attitude was hurting everyone around me. And of course Bennett, in his sweet, little way knew exactly what to say.
Bennett loves to come in bed and cuddle us in the mornings. The other morning Chuck & I were laying there discussing a noise we both thought we heard in the middle of the night. Bennett was laying there listening, thinking we were talking to him. I asked Chuck, " What do you think that noise was?" But before Chuck could answer, Bennett replied, "Um, I think that was air coming out of my body." At least he was honest. :) What a fun way to start the day!
As I was doing the dinner dishes tonight, Gavin comes up behind me, gives me a bear hug and hops up onto the counter next to me to chat a while. He informs me, "Mom, I wish every night could be like tonight." I was a little clueless as to why tonight rated up there in his top 5 favorites. I decided to recite the evening back to him in question form.
"Why? Do you wish you could throw up at the table every night?" We all seemingly had a case of the giggles - but especially Gavin. And to top it off, he was drinking orange soda with his dinner. The giggles hit and whatever was in his mouth came out in full force.
"Or was it the gooey rice I made...you wish we could have that for dinner every night. Is that it?" Yup. My culinary skills are shining once again. I decided I knew enough about making rice that I didn't need to actually measure the water to rice ratio. I guessed wrong. But I now know how to make rice pudding.
"Was it watching Daddy eat a 'Plate-O-Meat'? Would you like to see that every night?" Since the rice was a wash and I didn't have enough leftover mashed potatoes for everyone, poor Daddy ended up with a 'plate-o-meat'. He had grilled chicken and ended up with a huge mass of meat on his plate while the vegetables were sitting in a nearby bowl (he hates his food to touch). He looked like some Medival King sitting down to eat his prey.
Of course, Gavin is laughing so hard at this point, I'm afraid he's going to fall off the counter. Yet, I continue. "Was it because it is the middle of January, in the dead of winter and we were out playing in the park in shorts and sandals?" That's Texas for ya. It was in the mid-80's today. Not that I'm complaining...I just find that a bit odd. Don't you?
Gavin decided he'd had enough and let me in on the mystery of why this was such a perfect night, "Mom, it was just fun. That's all." I have to agree, Gavin. It was fun. One thing is a constant in our house and that is dinner time. We ALWAYS sit at the table to eat together and you NEVER know what to expect. Thankfully, tonight, the laughter was louder than the whining.
Our winter has been unseasonably warm in these here parts as of late. So, we decided to take advantage of it and bring the kids to a park to play their little hearts out. Chuck & I brought a frisbee in the hopes of also getting the chance to play.
The whole family ended up playing frisbee and we had a fabulous time...so I thought. Not that every knew how to throw or catch the frisbee, but the general idea was there.
On the drive home the kids were rather quiet. We thought we wore them out. When out of the blue Bennett pipes up with, "Mom, wu seem to fink dat everyone yoves me. But it seems to me that dey don't. It seems to me that everyone makes fun of me."
Wow. Deep thoughts. I thought he was bringing up some deep-seeded hurt that we have yet to 'talk out'. I responded to my poor child's cry for help as such, "Well, honey, thank you for telling me how you feel." (Bennett is VERY in touch with his emotions and ALWAYS informs us of how what we did or said makes him feel.) "Who has been making fun of you, Honey?"
"Wu guys."
"How have we made fun of you, Sweetie."
"Wu didn't let me catch da frisbee everytime."
Ahhh, now I see. He was feeling slighted because he has yet to acquire the skill set needed to play a good game of frisbee. I had to explain to him that the frisbee could not be thrown to him each time because there were several members in our family and each wanted a turn to throw and catch it. And we don't throw the frisbee only to people we love. It is a game. Just because the frisbee might have been thrown past him and he had to run several yards to get it no way infers that we are 'making fun of him' or 'don't love him anymore.'
He replies, "Oh."
End of conversation. Seems to me....'we' fink da world revolves around 'us'. :)
