Today the kids were informing me of what goes through their minds when they're sick. Not that anyone is currently sick...but we're bunch of hypochondriacs and random talking is all too common around here.
Here's Bennett's take: "Mom, whenever I get a bug, I always think of my white blood cells like the Dallas Cowboys and the virus like The Redskins, their evil enemy. It's a tough game, but the Cowboys always beat them. I also like to think of it like a battle and we're the guys in white and we're fighting the guys dressed in black, like the Egyptians or something."
The female version as seen in Chloe's mind: "Mommy, I always think that the white blood cells are like Cinderella and the bug is like the mean step-mother. I don't like her."
Surprisingly, mine and Gavin's mental image was the same: Pac-man.
So now you know...if we're ever sick, you know exactly what we're thinking.
I am normally the recipient of many interesting conversations throughout the day...mainly from my children. They are full of random thoughts and ideas. I cannot even recount the numerous conversations we've had about super powers, The Force, Tony Romo, and books we've read. The fun thing about all our little talks is that you never know what you're going to be talking about next. It's a wild ride. Sometimes we talk about deep issues such as "if God already defeated satan, why isn't satan dead?". Other times we have deep scientific discussions about why certain molecules attract to certain things and how (like I have any idea about anything in this line of questioning). Often, Gavin drills us about colleges. Yes...he is only 9, but it's never too early to start planning your future. Thankfully, today's conversations were a bit of a respite from anything too 'heady' for me. Lot's of what was said at me didn't even require a word of response - just a smile and nod. Here's a sampling of today's discussions:
Bennett: "If I had 4 arms, there's nothing else I'd ever need." Me too, Buddy...me too.
Chloe: "Mommy, you look pretty today even though you don't have earrings on." I'm glad you qualified that one.
Gavin: "Mom, did you know that if the human population died out, the insect population would remain the same and not be too badly affected. But, if the insect population died out the human population would die out very shortly afterwards." Have you been watching Animal Planet again? This was just one of the many random, science thoughts he threw at me today. Actually, this was the only one I could remember the wording to. He also told me something about the problem with the speed of light...but try as I may, I just can't remember the 'punch line'.
Bennett: "If I had The Force then the family would be protected very well."
Chloe: "If I had The Force, I'd force you to play princesses with me."
Bennett: "But the problem with that would be that you have to have a weak mind in order for The Force to work. And I have anything but a weak mind. So, it wouldn't work." Bennett sounds like he has a few too connections to the mob in this conversation.
This wouldn't be the first time I've made such a confession. And it's pretty obvious to those around me on a daily basis. Let me just explain why this is an accurate statement.
I'm by myself in the car running errands today while the kids are at a science class. The weather is gorgeous, the alone time, wonderful. I even remembered to bring my very own snack. I enjoyed my scrumptious apple. But I found myself with a dilemma...what was I to do with my half eaten apple? I wasn't about to lay that sticky thing anywhere in the car. Then a childhood thought came flittering into my adult memory. Remember when Dad was done with his apple...what did he used to do? That's right, he would throw it out the window to 'feed the birds'. Thanks, Dad, for helping me come to a solution that will not only benefit me, but the sweet, hungry birds as well.
Knowing that the other drivers on the road would not be very understanding of my immediate need to feed the birds, I held on to my apple until I was on a lonely stretch of farm to market road. Upon suddenly finding myself as the only motor vehicle on the road, I deemed now would be the perfect time to 'feed the birds'. I was going for sly, quick, and discreet in my methodology. I didn't have a lot of time to think. So here's what I did:
I quickly rolled down the window with the push of a button. I glanced in both directions and confirmed there were no cars or pedestrians to witness my upcoming bird feeding escapade. I reared my right arm back, the one holding the apple. And like a seasoned baseball player, I let that sucker go....right into the window frame of my car!!
The apple bounced back and hit me, somewhere, I can't remember exactly since I was too busy being in shock that I had a space wide enough to practically throw my self through and yet apparently couldn't even throw a teensy tiny apple through. The apple came bouncing off me and landed on the floor. My right hand bent completely backwards causing me immense pain and suffering. The ONLY thought going thru my head at this time was: STUPID, STUPID, STUPID - HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID, CORI?! All the while trying to drive nonchalantly with my left hand.
I wasn't about to let this apple beat me. I look around to make sure there will be no witnesses and I go for a second attempt. This time, I double check all my coordinates. Window completely down - check. Apple in hand - check. Eyes on the road - check. Other hand on steering wheel - check. Ready, aim, throw! Mission accomplished. I saw it land safely on a nice patch of gravel/grass on the side of the road. I'm sure the birds appreciate all the trouble I went through.
It was either that, or wait till I got to their science class in 2 minutes and walk in to find a trash can - but then I would have been holding that sticky thing much longer...that just didn't seem quite as convenient to me as feeding the birds. I feel like I've done my 'good deed' for the day. Too bad I had to be so secretive about the whole thing.
Yesterday I had some wonderful time with each child. In the morning, while doing school, Bennett tells me, "Mom I really love the way we do school. But I think I love the weekends even more." I confided that, "I like taking a break on the weekends too, Honey." Then he went off to do his blog. I have no parameters on his blog. I just want him to enjoy the writing process and learn how to use the keyboard. I don't correct spelling, grammar or anything. I just enjoy watching his brain and seeing how he is processing all that he is learning. I also don't usually give him topics to write about. But yesterday he was so excited to write his blog and couldn't wait to show me when he was done. This is it. Of course my heart was instantly filled with love that this child lavishes upon me every chance he gets. I'm constantly overwhelmed by his tender heart and capacity to show love at such a young age. I'm not surprised by it, because he is identical to my husband in this manner. So I knew one of our children would inherit this beautiful trait. But I'm forever thanking God for showing me love through Bennett. If it's not a sweet note, it's a random foot massage or he's telling me, "Go sit down and take a break Mom, you look a little tired." He can't start his day without cuddling me first. His love language is definitely physical touch. It's a beautiful thing to watch unfold...especially being on the receiving end of it!
Yesterday, Gavin and I were out running some errands together. He has such a servant's heart. He rarely complains when asked to do anything. He lives by patterns and routine. That's where he's most comfortable. There is also never a time when he's not reading or pondering life's questions. As we're driving in the car he tells me his thoughts, "Mom, I've come to realize that things lay dormant in my brain until the time comes when I need to use that information again." Honey, I couldn't have said it better myself. That's so cool that you have been able to deduce that information was the only intelligent enough response I could come up with to answer him. He then proceeded to give me examples of how this has occurred in his own life. I'm filled with awe at the memory and thought processes God gave him. He is constantly filled with wonder by how things work and rarely a day goes by where he's not impressed with God's creativity for thinking this or that up. The serenity of mind and thought that he lives by goes well beyond his 9 little years on this world. He also has one of his Daddy's amazing character traits: humility. In all his 'smartness' he doesn't brag. He learns because he yearns to, because he loves it, because it's who he is. And in gathering information in his head, the first thing he likes to do with it is share it with all of us - that just makes him happy. Take his piano class for instance...this is his first semester taking piano. He's really good at it because of his amazing skills at memorization and his high personal discipline level. He asks Bennett if he would like to learn what he's learning and Bennett jumps at the chance. So, here he is learning and teaching what he's learning at the same time - not bragging, not lording it over his younger brother, but sharing what he knows so it can bring joy to someone else. That is simply God at work in his little life.
And lastly, I even was blessed to spend some one on one time with dear little Chloe. I was making pirogi (a Polish dish that involves dough and cheese) for dinner when Chloe asked if she could help. There really wasn't anything for her to do, but I knew she was just longing to spend time with me any way possible. It certainly wasn't convenient, but I felt like this was important to her. We were a mess - and that is an understatement. There was flour, egg, sticky stuff all over me, the counter and now with Chloe's 'help', the floor and cupboards as well. But oh was she so happy to be contributing towards dinner and doing something important for and with me. At one point I asked her to reach her hand in the bowl and grab out a portion of the flour laden sticky stuff and she said, "But its messy." To which I replied, "Life is messy, Sweetie. And it's more fun that way. Imagine how boring it would be if we always had to stay clean." She was all over that. She actually enjoyed getting dirty after that. Then Daddy came in and saw all the mess. He was a little surprised and said, "That's quite a mess you guys have got going on over there." And before I could explain anything Chloe piped in with, "Daddy, sometimes life is messy and it's okay, right Mom." You got it girlfriend!
First thing in the morning - every morning - Bennett NEEDS to know who Gavin is. This might sound odd since Gavin is always Gavin. But that would be a wrong assumption. Gavin is not always Gavin. On any given day he is one of 100 different super heroes he's invented over the past 9 years of his life. Bennett is wise to ask this question, actually. I might have a better grasp on who it is I'm actually dealing with on a day in and day out basis if I was smart enough to say with my opening breath, "Good Morning Sweetie, who are you today?" The day might just go a little smoother.
But it's so funny how Bennett asks it with such anticipation. He literally can't start his day without knowing who Gavin is and then he can pick his own super hero of choice. I guess age gives way to preference - must be another one of Gavin's rules. Not only does he have a million homemade superheroes, he also has rules of herodom and rules governing who can save the day with whom and when you may and may not be said superhero. I have no clue how he keeps it all straight in his head. That would take up way too much hard drive space in my little brain. But I guess developing brains come equipped with some extra special features if they're being used non-stop.
I like to extrapolate things out often times. And I can just imagine the boys into adulthood, still best of friends, but probably not living close by and Bennett waking up every morning texting, emailing or calling his brother, "Hey, who are you today?"
Back when the boys were 5 and 3 all this superhero stuff was darling. Back when they were calling each other Dick and Bruce ... those were the good old days. I knew those superheroes. I thought it was an adorable little phase that all boys go through. I had no idea it would be lasting this long and they would be taking it to the next level. I'm beginning to think I have been secretly chosen as some Superhero Training Mom and am secretly being videotaped with live feeds to some mysterious superhero planet. Gavin might not be making all this stuff up afterall. The joke's probably on me. Who am I today anyways?
Jason Michael Carroll has a song out by that very title (not that I'm a fan of the video, but I do enjoy the music and lyrics). It's a wonderful little number. I just love how he words it. Every time I hear it, it reminds me of how thankful I am to be living our love song too. Each year for our anniversary we usually pick out a cd that has had alot of meaning in our lives/marriage over the past year. This is the song we chose for this past anniversary (12 marvelous years). Although, truth be told, this is the first year we forgot to buy the cd because we were on vacation.
I wanted to take a minute to thank the one who lives this beautiful love song with me everyday. He's the one who's so much better with words than I am. Seldom a week will go by when I don't get some sort of love note, card or webpage from him (he's a web designer - thus, the web-page gift makes a little more sense now).
We couldn't even imagine loving one another deeper than we did that very day 12 years ago and yet now...all this time later, we are so much closer - words don't even do it justice. I get overjoyed imagining what 20, 30 and 40 years later might look like. Our faults and imperfections cause much more laughter between us than arguments anymore. And I do believe his glasses have an even more rose colored tint in them than they did so long ago. He always seems to see me at my best and never faults me at my worst. He's given me the freedom to fail and not flog myself. His words are always encouraging and filled with a gentleness and love that's palpable.
It's not always a bed of roses. There are times when we don't necessarily 'feel' in love - but it's there. It's the tie that binds. That makes us best friends. I don't think love is cyclical, but I think life is. And it's in those inevitable down-times when that fire of love in our hearts is strengthened and we come out on the other side stronger for having gone through a difficult or challenging time together. Love songs aren't about perfect lives. They're about imperfect people loving deeply, living life fully and letting love wash over all the daily imperfections (of each other) that are blatantly obvious to the rest of the world.
We have a saying that we sign every card with: I love you perfect. It's not grammatically correct - that's the beautiful thing about it. My 'perfect' is only human and will mess up...but it's my best and it's all of me...that's all I have to give. I can't love perfectly...but I can love him perfect for him.
Here was another one of our genius ideas: Let's have another dress up for dinner night and movie night combined! Yay! We had just rented Monsters, Inc. from the library...so that was our default movie of choice. It only seemed natural that our dress up theme would be monsters. No one cared what dinner was...all that mattered was that there was popcorn and a movie afterwards. (No, I didn't make any special monster themed dinner - I was too busy scrambling to find an adequate costume). And yes, this time we were sure to lock all doors and shut all blinds before the festivities began. But that didn't stop the neighbor kids from ringing the doorbell for like 5 minutes straight. That always seems to happen on dress up for dinner night. Here was the crew, excited as ever:
The 'Scare Factor' is enormous, I know. How can it not be when you have so many monsters in one room. Daddy is the "One-eyed Tan Monster" (yes, that is a toilet lid cover he's sporting as a head decoration). Mommy is "Loopy the Confused Blue Monster". I only had like 10 minutes to come up with something and this was the best I could do. Gavin is "Ike" - referencing the scary hurricane monster looming in the Gulf of Mexico that very night. Bennett is "The Death Zombie". I have no clue how he came up with such a descriptive name - it is far out of the realm of toys/books he comes in contact with. But he has quite a far reaching imagination, as you can tell by his scary monster mask...so that is par for the course. And Chloe, is your neighborhood variety "Dark Green and Pink" monster, as she likes to refer to herself.
As the festivities die down for the evening and everyone is getting ready for bed, Chuck and I recollect over another fun, family evening. Only then does the irony of it all hit us. What were we thinking? Dressing up all scary, letting the kids watch a movie about monsters jumping out of closets at night and then sending them all up to bed like everything is perfectly normal? Hello! They are all probably scared out of their minds right now. Way to go! A minor oversight on our part. We did go up stairs to do last minute damage control...you know, reminding the kids that that was all pretend, that monsters aren't real and that just supposing if they were - they would be scared of kids. We armed them with empowerment. We told them that if they felt scared at all at night to just growl at their closet door and that would keep them away - the non-real monsters, that is.
Not only were we idiots for not seeing this "Mommy, I'm scared" routine as the logical end to the evening...but we made matters worse by talking in circles at bedtime. I think we've totally confused them - that little speech should have made them tired enough to not even be able to think about monsters, pretend, movie, or otherwise.
Believe it or not, sometimes my precious, little, dancy, princess throws royal temper tantrums. Yes. It's true. We don't pretend to live in a fairytale world all the time. And many, many times the princess's mommy wants to throw fits equal to the ones that the princess often demonstrates. Yet, my 'Mommy Handbook' does not allow this (unfortunately).
These fits of frustration usually occur when she's exhausted, out of her typical routine or just trying to get the attention that is due to the baby of the household. They also tend to worsen while on vacation. We recently took two vacations back to back. Although we had wonderful times, the lack of normalcy instigated many a princess blowout, anywhere - anytime. Nothing I did could keep the tantrum at bay and nothing I said would stop it. We just braced for the worst and hoped it would pass soon and then apologize for anyone unlucky enough to have witnessed it.
During the second vacation, I was at my whit's end. I tried to escape to be alone for more than 2 minutes. The public restroom was a great diversion. I entered alone. Sighed a HUGE sigh. Almost broke down out of frustration. Composed myself and prayed fervently - HELP, GOD, HELP! What should I do for my sweet child who's not so sweet at the moment?! Anger, frustration, threats, talking in a quiet, deep tone with your teeth clenched shut while inches from her face didn't seem to be working. What would?
Then God dropped the idea in my mind: give her a love transfer. I started thinking about what I wanted when I felt frustrated, out of control, worried, tired or just plain upset - I wanted to still be secure in the love of those around me. Then I thought of my poor, dear child who was feeling the same way...how sad I suddenly was to be thinking all her tantrums were for the soul purpose of upsetting my time and inconveniencing my fun. I was being just as self centered as she was.
So, I went and retrieved my sweet Chloe and brought her into my new found haven - the public restroom. I squooched down to her level and told her that I imagine she is probably pretty tired from all the walking we've been doing and that even though she's having fun, sometimes she just wants to sit and play and not do all this fun stuff so that might be making her a little frustrated. Tears were pooling up in her eyes as she was nodding. So then I told her my (God's) idea:
Honey, when you feel like you can't go on anymore and want to whine and complain and throw a fit please come to me first and ask for a love transfer. Then I wrapped her in the tightest bear hug I could muster for a few seconds. That way, I can transfer all my love into you and you will be able to go on some more knowing how loved you are. It will help you forget all the other stuff that's bothering you temporarily. Deal?
It worked. It was like a miracle. She didn't whine. She didn't complain about every little thing. She just walked up to me at sporadic times of the day and said, "Mommy, I need a transfer now." The confidence it gave her was amazing. The love she felt was evident. She knew my love for her was not based on her actions and was enough to get her through her tough times.
Now if only I could remember to do that myself. Run to the one who will give me His love when all I want to do is complain and whine. Life truly does get better and things just don't seem to look so bad anymore. Simply because I'm loved.
This is how I was greeted by my children this morning. What does one say when one's children insist on dressing in such a manner, consider it fun, and even take themselves seriously in such a get-up? I was told that this was "The Elf Team" a new genre of Christmas superheroes. I don't know what else they do or what they're powers are - I was too busy rolling on the floor in laughter to hear all the details. Chloe and Bennett are both wearing homemade, crocheted Christmas outfits my Grandmother made for me over 30 years ago (and no, I do not plan on including a picture of myself in these beautiful handmade clothes. But it would make a fitting memoir, wouldn't it?). I don't think I really have anymore to say here...the picture speaks loud enough.
So....this is what my children do for fun...wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall in this house?
We were eating the most delicious and un-nutritious breakfast the other day of donuts and pastries (we were out of town - what other 'cheap' choice did we have?). Everyone was thrilled with the idea and empowerment of selecting their very own sugar laden item of choice. Every ounce of thought, diligence and examination they could muster went into this process - hands all over the glass, taking forever since they don't want to mess up this once in a year selection process, people behind us tapping their feet and giving us huffy breaths - you know the drill. This is such a rare occurrence for us that the children take their decision VERY seriously - the item must be the biggest, chocolatyest, and/or have the best colored sprinkles.
After the 15 minute selection process was finally over, we all sit down at our very small, dingy table and commence the eating of the sugar high that we are calling 'breakfast' today. Fearing that they might have somehow, just maybe, made the wrong donut choice, they each ask for a bite of the others' donut. This seems to be ritual, whether it's breakfast, lunch or dinner. Just in case they didn't make the 'right' choice, they can quickly swap with the other with no one having to drudge their way through the eating process of an item they regretted picking under duress.
So, we are now at the sampling others' fares time of our little breakfast adventure. Bennett is admiring Chloe's chocolate swirl donut. He asks her for a bite. They each hold out their own donut to the other, quickly withdrawing if they feel the other is about to clamp down too large a bite. Bennett withdrawls his donut from Chloe's mouth twice before she's actually able to get a nibble out of his Boston creme filled eclair (we refer to his donut choice as a'horse leg' because of his propensity to always choose the largest thing whether he likes it or not). Chloe is a little more generous...she actually hands over her chocolate covered confection directly into mister stingy's hands.
Before I trudge on through this story, let me explain to the reader that Bennett had a VERY loose tooth prior to sitting down for this little delicacy. As he's chewing his rather large bite, we all hear a crunchy noise coming from his mouth. I remember thinking to myself, Chloe's donut must have had peanuts in it, although, I don't remember seeing any. Maybe they were under the chocolate covering...that's probably all it is. Other than that, none of us really paid too much mind to Bennett's noisy donut chewing. The kid always has something weird going on with him, so this wasn't so much out of the ordinary for us.
Right after that bite has made it's way down the digestive tract Bennett opens his mouth to show me something. He says, "Mom, look how loose my tooth is." In turn I reply, "Uh, Bennett, it's not loose, it's gone!" Then suddenly we all knew what that mysterious crunchy sound was. Bennett eating and swallowing his own tooth!!! Ewwww - gross!!! After we all had a good gag, laugh and moment of reflection, I tell Bennett, "Good luck explaining this one to the tooth fairy!" He's adamant about composing some sort of note explaining his bad luck. He is the victim in this whole scenario, after all. He's sure she'll side with him.
Dinner conversation usually supplies me with an endless amount of blog material. Tonight did not disappoint. Case and point: Bennett and Gavin while eating corn on the cob.
Bennett and Gavin sit next to each other at the table. Gavin still has the table manners of a 2 year old despite his 9 years. This fact comes as no surprise to anyone that knows him. Slurping, loud chewing, crumbs of all varieties around his placemat and under his chair are all unfortunately common despite our daily repertoire of 'Polite Manners at the Table' dialogue we give at each and every meal. We seem to be speaking the same language as Bennett and Chloe but have yet to discover which language Gavin understands because we're fairly certain its not English.
So, there are my two sweet boys sitting side by side politely trying to eat corn on the cob (yes, I know, it is indeed the greatest challenge ever when trying to eat mannerly at the table). But evidently Bennett can take it no more. He looks at Gavin and matter of factly says, "Gavin, could you please eat with your manners. I'm tired of getting all your drops of wetness on me". Those infamous 'drops of wetness' would be the corn juice (is there such a thing?) squirting out in Bennett's general direction with each bite Gavin chomps down on.
Gavin is enjoying each delicious bite of corn to its fullest, unaware of the rest of the family. But upon hearing Bennett's request almost spits out the remaining precious golden bits of corn during his laughing fit. Truth of the matter is, we all couldn't help having a little chuckle over such a odd request coming from the mouth of a six year old. Bennett always seems to have impeccable timing and a way with words.
I guess we need to implement a new 'Table Rule' - no getting drops of wetness on your siblings while eating!
The way our house is situated, the boys' room is over ours on the second story. We can normally hear each time someone falls out of bed, drops a book or kicks the wall repetitively with their foot for no apparent reason. With that being said, I was having difficulty sleeping last night and thought I heard noises coming from the boys' room. But I wasn't concerned enough to do anything about it. When I heard noises again, I walked over to the stairway and looked up. I saw the bathroom light on and heard the toilet flush. I decided it wasn't worth climbing up 16 steps in the middle of the night to check on one of my night walkers who just needed to go potty.
So I did what any other normal person would do...I went back to bed. But my 'mommy conscience' kept bugging me that something was just not right. Sleep was evasive. What other choice did I have but to muster enough muscle strength in my sleepy legs and go check on that little 'bump in the night' I heard much earlier?
I make my way upstairs in the pitch black and peek in the boys' room first. I see a hump in the middle of the room with blankets all over the place. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was. I didn't have my glasses on so everything was blurry and hazy. I thought maybe that earlier sound in the bathroom was Gavin getting up to throw up and maybe he decided to sleep on the floor afterwards. But then suddenly he spoke to me, "Hi Mom". But his voice wasn't coming down from the floor, he was up on his bed. Now I'm really confused. I asked him, "What's this?" while pointing to the lump on the floor. He said, "It's Chloe."
Hmmmm....the saga is taking more turns than my brain could process at this dim hour of the morning. I replied with the only obvious question, "What's she doing sleeping on the floor in your room?" Then he answered, "She had a bad dream so Bennett went and got her and set her up on the floor between us." Awwwww, how sweet is that?! But as suddenly as I think that, I also think, what kind of loser parent am I that I ignore the 'bumps in the night' up stairs and let my 6 year old respond to my poor 4 year old's plea for help? Loser!
So obviously, I get nice and comfy on the floor next to Chloe and whisper in her ear how sorry I am that I didn't hear her calling for me. She's still wide awake and responds, "I didn't call you Mommy. I called Bennett. I knew he would help me." Does it get any sweeter than that?! My heart was bursting with emotion for the love and care my son just bestowed on his sister in the middle of the night without being prompted or asked to. I think he really is going to grow up to be a super hero.
