Commando

I'm reevaluating my favorite potty training method. With all three older boys, I decided that just letting them run around bare-bottomed would be the best means to self-awareness. In all actuality, it worked out pretty well. My floor might disagree, but I had quick results with minor, messy set backs.

You might be thinking that this is going to be a Cade post. And that it will revolve around yet another horrific mess story that makes you glad your kids are grown. Or that you have no kids. Or that your kids aren't my kids. But this isn't a Cade posting.

You see, I think my potty training method messed Stone up. Because right now as I'm typing this, he's playing his Daddy's X-box with no pants on. And I mean NO pants. He's got a shirt (one that I'll need to bribe off of him later in order to wash) and his bright green Crocs on and that's it. Commando. Completely.

This isn't his preferred state. He prefers to have shorts on with no underwear. But for whatever reason, this morning he deemed his shorts from yesterday unworthy. And he refuses to wear long pants, which are all he has in his dresser (he's already lectured me on this point).

And here's another dilemma. He doesn't want to go to church anymore. Totally unrelated rant? No. He doesn't want to go because I make him wear underwear. Not because it isn't fun. Not because he doesn't love his teachers. Not because he doesn't want to see his friends. But because Church = Mandatory Underwear.

Scarily, he's become quite a liar to the question, "Did you put your underwear on?" At first he answered truthfully. Then, once he figured out that the truth only led to underwear, he answered by telling me that he had put them on. I (being a very clever mom) asked him what color they were and he grinned. Busted. The next time he answered yes, and when queried about the color popped off, "They're blue" with such panache that I believed him and we went to church. Underwearless. I discovered this while he was sitting cross-legged. So now, no matter how fervently he answers that he applied his undergarments, I double check them before leaving the house.

Who knew a potty training technique could create a pantsless, fibbing, church-avoiding 4-year-old. You see now why I'm reevaluating my method for the Cadester??

Just For Fun Friday

Each Friday, I'm going to post a picture I took that week that makes me smile - or laugh - or say 'Hmmmmm.' These won't be the most amazing pictures, just a warning!

We found this fun project online. The bottom layer is water with blue food coloring. The yellow stuff is vegetable oil. It's pretty difficult to describe molecular attributes and density to a 4-year-old, but he can understand that oil and water don't mix.

Happy Birthday?????

12 is a difficult age. At least it is for me as a parent. I can't really get into celebrating 12. The I-know-more-than-you attitude. The hormonal tumult. The girl-craziness (oh the horror!!!!!). 12 makes me less 'Happy Birthday!' and more 'Happy Birthday?' It's said with that facial expression that is part trepidation, part fear, part humor.

However, I can celebrate this. He's my kid. And he knows it. And he loves it. We get each other and there are fewer and fewer melt downs between us. We have a language together - a non-verbal, conversational secret decoder ring. And he's funny. A bit on the sarcastic side, but funny.

So, here's Happy Birthday to my arrogant but self-deprecating; my cocky but self-conscious; my awesome but explosive man-child. The kid who loved his Lego birthday cake even though the Lego guys were drooping off the back of it. Who told me he wasn't disappointed in waiting a few more days on his present (procrastination, thou art the bane of my existence). Who acted excited about the book I bought him. Man, I love this kid.

Just For Fun Friday

Each Friday, I'm going to post a picture I took that week that makes me smile - or laugh - or say 'Hmmmmm.' These won't be the most amazing pictures, just a warning!



All parents know the fear of suddenly realizing your house is TOO quiet. Usually, this is when you discover your children filling your bathtub with unrolled toilet paper. Or, you find the cat is wearing your most expensive makeup and you're pretty sure he didn't apply it himself. Or, you find your best fishing lures (exposed hooks and all) dangling from your toddlers overalls.**

In this case, Chad went to check on the eerie silence and came back to get me and Baxter (I named my new camera).

The picture above is evidence that my life sometimes throws me a cosmic bone. You can't tell because I used a flash, but they were watching a movie in the complete darkness of their room. Stone had tucked Cade into that blanket, turned the movie on, turned out the light, and hopped into the bed. The coup de grâce to my already unstable heart was Cade rubbing Stone's hair. Can you see it? Kill shot. As Pearce would say, "Mom got some MAJOR mascara in her eyes on that one."


**Please don't call the authorities on me. I exaggerate for comedic effect. I promise.

How do you know you are succeeding as a parent?

It's Pink's birthday. Kids were watching the news this morning before school and the local Fox station was playing the "how old is this celebrity" game. The picture of Pink came up and Cole blurts, "Why does Pink look like Elvis?"

Score!

This Kid...

You know, it's hard to post about just one of your kids. You run the risk of playing favorites or being overly sarcastic about one. That doesn't apply to children under two. Children under two are under a different rule structure.

It's probably been awhile since I posted about Cole. Just Cole. And I muse to myself why that is. So, here's my external though process.

Cole is mysterious to me. I can't really explain this. Hence the word mysterious.

Cole is totally random. I posted on this a LONG time ago and not much has changed in the way of randomness. The subjects have shifted. There are more random questions and discussions about Camaros and Harry Potter now. Cole lives in a 'what if' universe. Like "Mom, do you think a dragon could go faster than a Camaro?" and "Mom, what if you had an owl?" How do you answer these questions? Mostly like this: "Cole, dragons are fast, but notoriously bad in the corners, so that would be a great race to watch." and "Well, if I had an owl, I'd send it to keep an eye on you at school."

Cole is always evolving. Two years ago, Cole was like watching Snoopy caught in a never-ending happy dance loop. Now, at almost 10, there's much more introspection. More reading, thinking, quiet reflection. Not that he isn't still completely hyper - it's his home base. But he ventures into the quiet, brooding realm more often. Also, when Cole was 5, we were begging him to try out his bicycle (with training wheels and all), but he wasn't interested. Now, he's known as the more fearless kid in the neighborhood. It's an evolution that confounds and amazes me.

Cole is built over a highly active fault. No, not a flaw - a fault. Think San Andreas. He's calm on the surface, but underneath there's dangerously tumultuous activity. Getting Cole to talk about the way he feels is sometimes hard. He doesn't want to hurt feelings or admit that a situation is negative in any way. He prefers to wear his rose-colored glasses (even though the prescription in them is WAY off at times). But, push his buttons too far (ask Pearce how) and you have a 9.0 on the Richter scale. Devastating.

Cole is beautiful. There are times when I look at Cole and his warmth overcomes me. He has a beauty that I can't explain. It's from the inside. It's all that mystery and optimism and turbulence causing something like a radioactive glow that emanates from his eyes. You might have to be his mom to see it. But it's there.

This kid...he's beyond wonderful. Beyond my understanding. Beyond lovable. Beyond explanation.

The real reason I love Facebook

I'm going to try (key word) to keep this post short, but just like a really good plot, sometimes you need an unabridged version to satisfy.

I have a crazy family. I know, you're thinking who doesn't? But the special brand of crazy in my family is spectacular. I love it. I always have. As a little girl, I always felt like a movie viewer to my own life at family gatherings. My uncles were the hilarious leading male roles and my aunts were the beguiling, if not long-suffering and ever eye-rolling leading ladies. To put it in terms of 80's pop culture; my uncles were the Jack Trippers and my aunts the Janets of my life.

I have the fondest memories of watching their sibling rivalry manifest itself into things like an indoor hand-stand contest, or a singing-Christmas-carols-over-the-other contest. And the one-upsmanship in joke telling was almost mind bending at times for me.

But it wasn't always fun and games. I learned valuable life lessons from my uncles. I learned that you don't EVER outgrow parental scoldings. And that a hand-stand contest in your 40's leads to days of soreness. I learned that ANY word can be used as the basis of a joke (even if you have to stretch it beyond its recognizable origins).

I so wanted to interact with these beloved characters, but much like your favorite TV show, they were untouchable. Separated by the distance of a generation and my ignorance in spinning tall tales at such a young age (oh, and that one incident where I wrote a curse word on paper and blamed it on my most innocent cousin). Separated by my obnoxious pre-teen years and then my absolute disrespect for all adults in my teen years. Finally, separated by my inevitable, but exploding adult life and family.

Then, Facebook happened. My uncles slowly joined one by one. And now I have access to their hilarity on an ongoing basis; not just at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. My uncles might be the real reason I love Facebook so much.


I have a few uncles who might be embarrassed by this post. And a few who will take complete credit for it. But they are all part of the ensemble cast that made up my favorite sitcom. My childhood.

The saddest game of Hide-And-Seek. Ever.

Yesterday, Stone suggested that we play Hide-And-Seek. (Cute aside: I counted first and he hid by crouching in the hallway with his arms over his head.)

When it was his turn to count, he decided that since he was little he only needed to count to three. So, I made a mad dash for his room and threw myself behind a large kitchen/grill toy. As I was dropping to the floor behind it, my leg caught on this thing sticking out of the toy. I saw white stars in my eyes. My vision blurred a little from the pain. But I pressed on and grimaced silently behind the toy in order to continue the game. If you can take a moment to visualize me writhing in pain like a mime. Or better yet, over-dramatic, silent movie style...yes, that's it.

I hear Stone go past his bedroom door calling, "Where are you? I'm going to fiiiiind you!!!" The pain becomes a little more tolerable and I notice that he's gone far enough away that I can barely hear his voice. So, I make a teasing hoot to get him to come back my way. Now I can't hear him at all. I make another teasing hoot. Nothing. I call out, "Stone?" And he walks past his doorway saying, "Mom, I'm not playing Hide-And-Go-Seek anymore. Cade and I are going to play with cars."

Here I am, crouched behind his kitchen toy, leg throbbing - and he decides he's not playing anymore. After 27 seconds of looking for me. Next time, we are going to talk ahead of time about finding your playmate before deciding on a new activity.

My mommy merit badge for today (8 inch ruler):

Family Walk

We started a new family thing that I'm really enjoying. After dinner is over and everything is cleaned up, we go for a walk/ride around the block. It's the most amazing change in our life. It's quite possible that no one in my family gets as much out of it as I do, but it's fun enough that we even hooked Chad. You probably already know this, but walking around the block is a great science and social studies activity for almost everyone. We pick up old, brown magnolia leaves and check them out. Then, we crunch them up in our hands. Cade loves it. We stop to observe ants carrying huge chunks of food down the seams in the concrete sidewalk. We talk about the danger of 'The Street' and the safety of 'The Sidewalk.' Amazingly, we've discovered that we have neighbors. Prior to this activity, we assumed that the houses in our neighborhood were owned by phantoms. It turns out that we were the phantoms. Neighbors exclaim to us, "Oh! I know that house, we always wondered who lived there!"

Mostly, though, I love watching my family walk together - no arguing, no worries (save those related to The Street), no electronics, no canned lighting. Just the sun, the breeze, the neighbors, and God all around us.

**contented sigh**

Last night, I ventured out with one piece of electronics and shot a few pictures.

Just for fun Friday

Each Friday, I'm going to post a picture I took that week that makes me smile - or laugh - or say 'Hmmmmm.' These won't be the most amazing pictures, just a warning!