Chloe announced to me today that she is now a princess, "I am be real pinsess, Mommee." Wonderful. I thought I'd see how far her imagination would take us, so I asked some very pertinent princess questions, such as:
"What does a real princess do all day, Honey."
"Prawbe (probably) I go visit people."
"What do you say when you visit people?"
"Prawbe I say, 'hi'. Prawbe I cook for dem. Yes. I do."
All this while she is gently pushing the random strays of very fine blonde hair out of her face with both hands. She looks so matter of fact about all this. She does have her special pink high heel shoes on after all - what else does one need to be a real princess?
"Prawbee I hep (help) people all day yong (long). Yes, I am be real pincess. Me have baids (braids). Me be yight back Mommee." She takes such pride in her newly acquired role. She even deemed me a princess too. I'm so lucky to have my very own pink princess!
It is interesting that she has taken to making her princess so proper. She used to don her beautiful princess dress, pick up her purple light saber (a gift from the boys) and run around the house yelling, "Pincess dirl, pincess dirl" and making swooshing and flying noises - all no doubt because of her brothers' superhero influence in her life. It's so nice to see her becoming more genteel.
Chuck has been out of town for a 3 days now. I am starting to run low on fuel - and not the kind I put in my car. I can not sleep when my husband is not home. I barricade the house like Fort Knox. I double and triple check all the doors and windows. I slide a heavy chair in front of the door. I leave all the lights on. I stay up as late as I can until my head starts to bob to one side and I feel the effects of exhaustion sweep over me. Now. Now is the perfect time to attempt to allow myself to fall into a fitful 'sleep'.
However, all the lights on in the house are keeping me awake. Or maybe it's the one of the little people I let sleep in my bed. They each have gotten a turn to sleep with Mommy. More for my own peace of mind. They all make their own unique noises and twitches. This also keeps me awake. Last night, Gavin was also sleeping with his light saber - in my bed. Not that I'm not grateful for the extra amount of security that allotted us - but I think it was a bit over the top. I've never slept with a light saber before.
The previous two nights brought maybe 4 or 5 hours of sleep - accumulated. Anyone who knows me, knows that I REALLY need all 8 hours. I feel like I'm back in the throws of just bringing a new born home. Sleep is elusive. It's all I think about. Yet, I can't relax enough to enter the Land of Nod for more than an hour at a time. But last night was the kicker. I wanted to find my time card and punch out. I'm off duty. No more Mommying for me for the next 8 hours. God had other plans, however. It seems this is the week of Mommy needing to learn to give more of herself even when she feels she can give no more. It is a lesson I need to learn and am walking through wearily.
I finally dozed off somewhere around 11:30ish (VERY late for me). At 1:30ish I hear the swishing of little feet on the carpet approaching my side of the bed. I groan inwardly as I expect Chloe to come crawling in bed with me. How I wish it were only my little wiggle worm. Instead, it was Bennett. "Uh, Mom" he says. "What's wrong, Honey? Did you accidentally pee in your bed?" I ask. "Uh, no. I woeuflskdhfasiefhaosdjfsalkdjs....wahhhhh!!!". He started talking in his signature high-pitched, little piglet squeal, and I couldn't understand a word of what he said. I finally was able to get out of him that he threw up all over his bed.
My first thought was, Daddy normally handles this - I can't. I'm tired. I might throw up too. Then who's going to take care of me? It took a while for my compassionate motherly instincts to kick in. It then dawned on me that he might not be done throwing up so I bolted out of bed and ran him into the bathroom where we sat for a while. While he was washing his face, my second thought came to me, Oh man! I hope this doesn't mean we can't have our playdate with our friends tomorrow. I'm wreaking with compassion at this point. I'm thinking more about what I want instead of my poor, puke ladened child. The sight of him pulls me back to reality and all selfish thoughts seem to scatter (momentarily, at least).
Bennett asks if he could sleep with me now, since his bed is a mess. Uh, No!! I cannot allow the possibility of puke upon myself or my bed. But instead I answer with, "Honey, it would be better if you slept in Gavin's bed so you could be closer to the bathroom." My next step is to enter the room and remove all hazardous materials. This is definitely NOT my forte. This is the part Chuck so lovingly does. I don't know where to begin.
So, at 2am I find myself up on the top bunk, my head way too close to the ceiling, and my nose way too close to that awful smell. I somehow managed to get all affected materials off the bed without getting any on me. I threw it all in the laundry room and decided to deal with it tomorrow. I'm sure I'll have greater clarity of thought in the morning. Right about now I'm thinking, I'm glad I never went into nursing. I so couldn't handle the hours or the smells.
Our mini-disaster has come to a close and I re-enter my beloved bed wide awake. This begins the time of 'brain overload' where it feels it must think of everything and anything and the problems and solutions that lie therein. My thoughts range from the rain outside and progress to more and more unimportant issues, such as: our water heater, what would happen if our water heater exploded, I should probably come up with an evacuation plan, what if our roof collapses, we should probably have our a/c unit checked, have we changed our filters recently, I guess things could be worse, at least I'm not in a concentration camp....ad nausium. I was unable to find my brain's turn off switch for 2 whole hours. How lucky for me that Chloe decided to enter the picture at this time. She comes climbing into bed and continues to rotate her little body like a pig on a skewer for the next 30 minutes.
Enough! Before I say anything that might make her cry, I swiftly pick her up and head back up stairs to lay her comfortably in her own bed. I tell her it's still too early to come cuddle and head back downstairs. I just get the covers pulled up only to hear her screaming bloody murder. I sprint back upstairs and ask her what's wrong. "I hear a noise." She sobs. I can so understand being scared of the dark and of noises - I am right now too. But I assure her it's only the rain hitting her window and she's safe. That seems to work.
Again, I crawl into bed with my heart rate now highly accelerated from my little midnight exercise routine. The doctor did recently tell me I should exercise more - but this is NOT what I had in mind! God in his mercy, allowed me to continue sleeping for a full 3 hour stint - it was wonderful. All that to say, boy to I have a whole lot more compassion on single parents now! Not that I'm not already immensely grateful for my husband, but I'm even more grateful for our midnight team work, for the times throughout the day he so lovingly gives me some alone time, for the constant affirmation he bestows on me for the 'job' I do day in and day out.
Thank you, God, for your grace during this time. The only way I have been able to make it thru this week is by his grace alone. Thank you also for giving me somebody to take care of me - I like that.
Today, I decided would be a great day to go down to the DMV to check on my lost license. I felt this would be fun to do with the kids. I actually had the option to leave them at home with Chuck and thought, no, they'll be fine, it's just a quick little trip.
However, that's not what I was thinking an hour later as we were still standing in line. Standing might not be the appropriate term. I was the only one left standing. The kids found many other ways to pass the time. They thought trying to squeeze Chloe between the two of them as they leaned up against the wall was an acceptable activity - until they got 'the glare' from me. Then they decided it would be better to come lavish all their love upon me. So I had 3 children hanging from every available limb smothering me with kisses and hugs and words of affection. Not that I don't love to be loved on by my children, but we were in a small enclosed room with alot of other people standing all around us (I felt as if we were on a stage with a microphone) and we seemed to be the only ones talking.
Then Chloe saw that a Mommy and a baby had entered into the picture. She asks me, "Who dat baby, Mommy? Me go see dat baby?" To say no would be to incite the wrath of Chloe and I already had all eyes on me and my clan, I didn't need to show the world one of Chloe's temper tantrums; so I opted for, "Why don't you and Bennett go say hi to the baby."
The only way to describe the next moment is: awkward. Bennett and Chloe amble hand in hand towards the back of the line examining each person as they go. They make it to the young, unsuspecting mother holding the object of Chloe's affection and just stand there and look at her. The mother stares back at them. They look at the baby. The mother looks at the baby. I'm not exactly sure what the mother is thinking, but she did walk out about 5 minutes after this exchange. I guess Chloe did exactly what she wanted to do - she saw the baby.
Note to self: Need to teach the kids to speak to people and not just look at them. Let's work on conversation starters.
A Christmas Eve candle light service scares me. It scares me a lot. Two reasons come to mind - Bennett and his slippery fingers and my innate fear of fire. Add to that Bennett and I sitting right next to each other and you have a recipe for disaster.
As we entered the sanctuary this morning, we passed a basket of small candles. We paid no mind to it thinking they were for other people. They really wouldn't want anyone in our family to hold a fire stick in their nice sanctuary if they really knew us.
We made it to the end of the service without creating too much of a scenario and then the Pastor says, "Now, we're going to light the candles...". Uh-oh. Chuck quickly makes a mad dash for the back to go bring enough candles to make it look like we're a bonfire waiting to explode. He gets back in time for the 'master candle' holder to light his torch. But let me digress a bit and set the scene a little more in focus for you...
Chuck is on the isle seat with Chloe perched upon his lap. Next is Gavin with a goofy grin on his face - a little too excited about holding a candle in a public space, if you ask me. I am next with Bennett lounging beside me. He thinks these chairs are recliners, I think.
Another important piece of information that is imperative for the reader to know is that Bennett drops everything. Just yesterday he spilled his drink at the table. If you give him something to hold, it will invariably end up on the floor. He has just seemed to be plagued by the 'butterfingers curse' since infanthood. Now add to Bennett's 'issue' my fear of fire. I think I'm just as scared of fire as I am of heights. We have never made a fire in our fireplace because of said fear. Oh yeah, and remember, I'm 'worst case scenario girl' - so you can imagine how the fear immediately gripped my mind and starting cranking out 'worst case scenario' movies.
So, when I hear that we are fixin to light a million candles in a sanctuary filled to the brim with little kids, people packed in like sardines next to each other and many flammable materials in too close of proximity to Bennett, my heart starts to race. I am in panic mode now - yet on the outside I try hard to keep my composure together by giving tight lipped smiles to those around me. The whole time visions of the church up in flames is running through my head. I'm imagining the person's coat in front of me on fire. I'm seeing Bennett drop his candle and a fire starting on the carpet and spreading like wildfire. I don't think this is what is supposed to come to mind while the choir is singing 'Silent Night'.
Amazingly, we made it through the everybody-light-your-candle-from-the-person's-next-to-you phase. I am begging the boys to hold on to their candle with their entire fist. Dropping the candle is not an option. And I have declared myself Fire Marshall in this all important mission. I can no longer concentrate on the beautiful melodies coming from the stage, my mind is on one thing and one thing only - keep the candles upright, far enough away from the person in front of us, but not too close to our noses to catch our hair, ties, or shirts on fire.
I'm starting to sweat. I need to sit down. As I sit down, I ask Bennett (trying to keep my voice from shaking), "Honey, would you like Mommy to hold your candle for you for a bit?" He hands it off without so much as a good-bye. He actually couldn't wait to get the object out of his hands and doesn't give me adequate time to position my hand exactly where I would like it. It seems that I caught it more in mid-air. After the transfer of the fire object is made, I am able to start breathing a bit easier. But by sitting down, it seems I have unintentionally invited Chloe to come stand too near the flames. She insists on 'helping' me.
After inspecting Gavin's holding position and deeming that he is safe, I no longer worry about him and devote my attention to my little helper. My next mission is to not let Chloe's pig tails, which she is constantly flicking around, get in too close of proximity to the candle tip. I allow her to hold the candle under my fingers which are precariously close to the flame. The part that freaks me out. I then find myself staring wild eyed into the flame and forget where I am. I quickly remember as I feel hot wax running down my fingers.
Thank God someone on the stage had the wisdom to tell all these pyromaniacs to blow out the candles. Chloe and Bennett cover the two I'm holding with enough spit for me to also cool down my burnt hands. I quickly pass off the evil objects to Chuck with a look of utter disdain. I proceed to peel the wax off my fingers. Merry Christmas everyone!
Whenever the kids whine about something they don't have or didn't get they can always count on Mommy saying, "Guys, let's just chose to be happy and thankful for what we do have and not worry about what we don't have." Thus, the background is now set for our most recent adventure.
It was a lovely, mild, fall day and I decided a picnic was in order. The kids and I worked fast to pack a picnic lunch. Gavin put the fruit in, Chloe pitched in the napkins, Bennett put in all the puddings and I donated the sandwiches.
We get the park and are having a glorious time. We sit down at the picnic bench, spread out our red and white checked table cloth and begin to distribute our lunch foods. It didn't take long for me to notice a vast disparity among the food. I was missing my pudding.
I mount a deep investigation into this oversight. I go right to the source. Bennett. I ask him, "Honey, where is Mommy's pudding?"
He does a great impersonation of someone trying to act surprised. He wrinkles his little nose, contorts his face and feigns a thoughtful pose. Then he responds with, "Hmmm, maybe I forgot it. But that's okay Mom. Let's not look at what we don't have, let's chose to be thankful for what we do have. See, you have a nice little tangelo to eat there. Be thankful for that."
Who can argue with such logic. I'm the one forcing it on them. I may as well suck it up and take my own advice. It sure was a good tangelo.
We had to institute a new rule in this house. Not your typical rule. But we're not your typical family. See, Bennett gets a particular urge to use the bathroom - for a LONG time - every time we sit down to eat, that is. Therefore, the new rule is: If one feels so compelled to use the bathroom during a meal, one must limit that bathroom habit to pee only. In other words, Bennett must get permission to poopie. I never thought we'd come to this...but here we are. He takes this rule very seriously too.
The reason the rule is so strictly enforced is because Bennett seems to spend lengthy amounts of time in the bathroom when this urge stikes, thereby, coming back to a cold dinner/lunch/breakfast, be that what it may. Add to that his very slow eating habits and you end up having a little boy who spends an hour at the table for each meal. We like to all enjoy our meals together - but we don't all like to sit there for an hour watching Bennett eat. Thus, Daddy decided drastic measures needed to be taken.
Granted, he still gets his urge, but he is faithful to follow the rule. He is so conscientious that even when he's not sitting down to eat and feels the need to go to the bathroom, he comes and asks permission to poopie. I can't believe I'm even talking about this. This entire blog, since it's inception, seems to have been devoted to Bennett's Bathroom Habits. Welcome to my world.
So, we're traveling for the Holidays. We spent two entire days in airports within the past week. All the boys decide that it's time to check out the bathroom at the current airport we've been waiting at for two hours. Daddy graciously offers to take them to the bathroom. Once they get inside, Bennett asks Chuck, "Daddy, can I go poopie?" very loudly. Of course, they're not the only ones in the bathroom. Chuck is getting some odd stares, but he's the kind to let things roll off his back. Bennett wants to make sure that it really is okay to poopie, so he asks yet again, even louder, "Daddy, can I please go poopie?" Chuck responds, "YES. Permission to poopie is granted." Feeling relieved, Bennett choses a stall. Gavin decides that since Bennett has permission, he must also, and choses a stall next to Bennett.
Of course, this is all hear say, being that I was not in the men's restroom at the time of this conversation. As Chuck is waiting patiently for our beloved boys, he hears Bennett say, "Hey Gavin. Do ya wanna play 'I Spy'?" Chuck can't believe his ears and quickly nips this little diversion in the bud. He does NOT want to loiter in the bathroom any longer than necessary and encourages the boys to do prompt business.
How do you play 'I Spy' when you're not even in the same place as somebody? What is there to see in a stall? Everything is gray. It's not like there's many things to 'spy'. It's not like you need an activity to help the time go by. You gotta hand it to Bennett, there's never a dull moment in his life - or ours either.
Daddy's birthday was quickly approaching, so I decided to ask the kids what they might like to get him. I never cease to be amazed at what kids think grown-ups like. Gavin wanted to get him a pumice rock for his feet. We happended to just be studying a little geology at the time and he was curious to see what pumice looked like...so it kind of all worked out perfectly for him. Thankfully, Chuck loves pumice rocks.
Chloe still has no clue. If he doesn't want a baby or a stroller, then she's out of ideas. When Gavin was two, I asked him the same question, only for Grandpa's birthday. I actually got exactly what he said, "a glass cup and a blue plate". That has come to be one of Grandpa's favorite gifts to date. So, sometimes it works out well, other times, not so much.
Then there's Bennett...there's always Bennett. His brain works slightly different from the rest of us. I think he heard, "Bennett what would you like me to buy Daddy that you can play with, have, use or watch?" Knowing that this is how his brain filtered my earlier question, you can have a better understanding of why he replied the way he did. "I have a good idea. How bout we get him 'The Emperor's New Groove' [Bennett's latest greatest favorite movie]." I have to admit, that was a good idea. Daddy loves the humor in it. I even tried to find it, but was unsuccessful. On the second go around he said, "Mom, do they make monster costumes for Daddy's? Cuz if they do, I think we should buy him one. That way when we play monster (i.e.- Daddy chasing the kids around on the playground) he can be a REAL monster."
Again, another perfect suggestion - IF YOU WERE BENNETT who loves to wear a costume everyday, for any occasion. But just think about that for a moment...what if you were another child/parent at the playground and saw this Daddy in a monster costume chasing kids around, wouldn't that freak you out a bit? But to Bennett, that would have been the ultimate gift. I told him that they do indeed sell monster costumes for adults, but they're all sold out and we'll have to remember that for next Halloween.
He ended up settling on making his own coupon, that he wrote out himself, giving Daddy one free massage any time he wants it. I kind of ended up throwing a few ideas out there and he decided that one would be the easiest. He likes massages himself, so I figured he wouldn't mind giving one. But as soon as he gives a 2 minute massage, he sits down in front of you and says, "Now you do me." I knew he'd figure a way to get something out of it for himself.
There are few things as precious as the way a toddler mispronounces new words in her vocabulary. Here are a sampling of some of my favorites from Chloe. The high pitched, whiney sound will fade in time and so will the 'wrong' way of saying things. That's why, for today, I am choosing to live in the moment and enjoy life the way my two year old does.
Bbblllaaahhh = drink
Pooppaste = toothpaste
Flone = phone
Foo me = excuse me
Etmeal = oatmeal
Food me peez = feed me please
Pumbody giga me nink = somebody get me a drink
Pum on boys, it's pime eat = come on boys, its time to eat
Probly me do dis
How me do dis?
I hep you?
I am be doctor
Mommeeee...peez wipe my botton
Me no yike your hair up Mommeee
The other morning Bennett was missing Grandma and asked me if he could call her (at 8am). But when it comes to the grandkids, it doesn't matter what the time, Grandma loves to talk to them. They were carrying on quite the conversation. After maybe 10 minutes, Bennett hands the phone to me and Mom is on the other end laughing hysterically. She said, "Did you hear our conversation?" I hadn't, so she was more than happy to tell me exactly what my sweet son told her. Here goes:
Grandma: Bennett, I love you so much that next time I see you I'm going to hug you so hard that your head is going to pop off.
Bennett: Grandma, I love you so much that when I see you I'm going to hug you so tight all your fat will turn to skinny.
I have noticed an odd phenomenon in this house. It is odd because each one of my children have done this and have never been told to. It is also odd because it is not normal. Again, we're talking about bathroom habits here...so read with caution.
Ever since Gavin was potty trained, he has always felt the need to come find me, wherever that may be, and let me know that he has to go potty. It is spoken with the utmost of urgency too, like he will explode right there unless I grant my permission. That habit continues unto this day and he's 2 months shy of 8 years old. It's like this unspoken rule, You must tell your mother of your intent to use the bathroom and you may not commence with bathroom procedures until aforementioned communication is acknowledged.
Take today for instance...I'm spending some time working with Bennett in his room and Gavin comes and knocks on the door and says, "I have to go potty." What am I supposed to say to that? "You may proceed." Or maybe next time I should try, "Can't you hold it a just a little longer?" But instead, I give my typical nod of affirmation and say, "Alrighty then."
Of course, Bennett follows suit nicely. But he always adds a twist to his. Whenever he comes to find me and warn me that he has to go, he usually follows it up with, "Where's Chloe?" That is our second unwritten bathroom rule in this house. If your name is Chloe and your brother has to go to the bathroom, you must accompany him. It's like he's offended if she doesn't want to sit in there an keep him company. Not that she turns him down very often. He tries to make his offer of 'special time in the bathroom together' as appealing as possible. He would rather be constipated than be forced to stay in that tiny room alone.
And then there's Chloe. My newest recruit in the 'Elite Potty Trained Forces'. Now that she is free of her cumbersome diaper, she too follows tradition and announces to all her intent. For example, say we're sitting around playing legos. Upon the realization that she needs to go, she stands up, immediately pulls all her lower garments down to her feet and says, "Me go potty now. By my felf!" and waddles toward the appropriate destination. Notice the message of intent though.
Is there a moral to this story? None that I can think of. Unless its: be careful of the unspoken expectations you have of your kids or you might just know each time they need to go to the bathroom for the next 18 years.
We had a very special visitor the other night. It was actually quite a surprise. We weren't expecting anyone. He probably came because we live quite close to one another. He caused quite a ruckus, though. We weren't expecting to have to pick up after him so much. Evidently, he just prefers to eat privately. At night. Outside. Have you guessed who our visitor was yet?
A Bear!
The only downside to our little visit is that we never actually got to see one another. We only realized he came the next morning when we found the trash from our dumpster strewn across the back yard. Actually, the trash can having fallen over didn't surprise us in the least. It had been an extraordinarily windy night. And it would have been quite feasible that our can tipped over. What wasn't feasible, however, was the trash bags ripped apart like they were made of tissue paper. Or the large teeth marks found on a frosting can. Or the Crisco container torn to shreds. Last time I checked, the wind didn't have those capabilities.
So...who do we send out to do damage control? Good ol' fearless Daddy! The kids, Nana and I were all perched on the balcony, a safe distance away in case our visitor was really playing hide-n-seek. I even had the foresight to grab the video camera to document our latest adventure...or the bear. I quickly scanned the trees with my telephoto lens and gave Chuck the 'all clear' signal. He could now safely enter the brush and overgrown trees in our backyard in order to safely retrieve the trash that was rightfully ours.
Actually, we all worked quite well as a team. Daddy sent Bennett in to grab a large, black trash bag. Bennett passed it onto Gavin, who cautiously meandered into the depths of our back yard to make the hand off to Daddy. He then stood transfixed in one spot surveying the damage. Nana held onto Chloe for dear life. And I recorded it for all posterity. If you're going to have such an outrageous story, it helps to have documentation.
We contemplated other possible intruders. It could have been a raccoon, but we ruled that out for a number of reasons. One, raccoons prefer to stay near the trash cans. Two, we've never seen or been told of raccoon sitings on the mountain. Three, raccoons don't have as big of teeth marks that were found on what is now being held as Exhibit A, nor do they have as large of droppings that our visitor left as a calling card. It could have been a large dog. But dogs don't go and sit on a pile of old tree, shrub and forrest brush and flatten it out with the shear magnitude of their weight while they're rummaging through garbage cans. That idea was out.
That is why we were convinced that our friend was a bear. A neighbor even told us that she spotted one in her back yard recently. That, along with all the evidence we accumulated led us to our final conclusion. How awesome for city slickers like us to have such a wonderful outdoorsy type of experience as this. You gotta love nature!
What do Bruce Lee and I share in common? Actually, almost nothing, except admiration. I was driving Gavin back from his Tae-Kwon-Do class last night and he mentioned that there are ALOT of posters of Bruce Lee on the walls of the training room. I nodded my agreement then added, "Your instructor must really admire Bruce Lee for his style and abilities." Gavin heartily agreed. I then went on to add, "Everyone admires someone. Who do you admire, Buddy?" His answer caught me off guard and brought tears to my eyes, "I admire you, Mom. I admire you because I love you and I admire you because you teach me." Awww. I didn't see that coming. My heart swells with emotion and gratitude.
