Exit Stage Left

Kids go through stages. I know this. I've raised enough boys to be comfortable with this statement. Kids go through stages. Simple.

But Cade...I pause to run my hands through my hair to see if it's falling out in patches...Cade is going to END ME, PEOPLE.

It's a never-ending transition from one horrific stage to another. As soon as he was old enough crawl, he discovered the dog water and food. And for almost a year, he splashed, dumped, and even drank the dog's water. He took immense joy in putting the dog food into the water and stirring it around. He loved to put other random things into the dog water. Stuffed animals, DVD's, army men, hairbrushes. You're judging, right? You're giving the computer monitor an incredulous look and asking, "A year, Dori? Why didn't you just MOVE the food and water?" I guess the answer is part 'I never had to do that for three other boys' and part 'Where am I going to move it where a 26 pound Pomeranian can get to it, but Cade can't?'

That finally subsided, but before I could celebrate, we began the arduous task of making sure that Cade didn't choke to death on a daily basis. Everything went into the child's mouth. And I mean E-ver-y-thin-g. Dog food, balls, weeble wobbles, rabbit pellets from the back yard, old milk, checkers, coins, soap. Yes, soap. He'd put it in his mouth, make a face, look at it and proceed to put it back in his mouth just to reassure himself it did, in fact, taste that bad. Then Legos. OMG - the legos. Lego men heads, weapons, tires, blocks, trees, etc. Protein isn't really the "building block" to Cade's muscle - it's Legos.

Once we realized that he wasn't putting so many things in his mouth, we were already into the "NO!" means "DO IT FASTER" stage.
Cade's translations:
"No, Cade, don't eat the dog food." = "Eat is before I can get to you!"
"No, Cade, don't jump on the couch!" = "Jump off the couch and run!"
"No, Cade, don't drink that milk from last night's dinner." = "DOWN IT!!! DOWN IT!!!!"

And finally, just when I'm starting to see some improvement in his reasoning skills, he starts potty training. This really isn't a behavioral stage. But Cade manages to make it a challenge. He's, well, he's VERY regular. He poops each night at around 9:00. And we put a pull up on him to avoid the underwear/poop debacle. The last week or so, he's decided that he needs to take the pull up off after he's pooped in it. And he's really quiet about it. We think he's sleeping until he says, "Mommy, I need to go poop." under the door. I walk into his darkened room and either step directly onto the pull up (always facing up where there's no avoiding maximum foot-coverage) or I walk into the 'Where in the world could Cade's stinky pull up be?' mystery. Why does he hide it???? WHY? He cheerfully smiles and says, "I went poop!" while I frantically check his hands, the bed, the furniture, and the toys. Do you know how many diseases are fecal in their origins??? Hazmat needs a secret tunnel to Cade's room.

So, I ponder these questions while I'm trying not to cry at the end of a day where I either spent it keeping Cade alive or cleaning up his hazardous waste - why is the last child the most challenging child??? And when will a good stage happen? And will I recognize it while I'm on anti-psychotic meds?

Unintentional Challenge (a.k.a. "I love you, man.")

I’m literally obligated by an implied challenge to post this. My son should know better. And perhaps he does. Perhaps he simply feigns horror at being the subject of my blog postings.

I should start by declaring how awesome Pearce is . He’s not mortified at almost 13 to be seen with me and even throws a gangly arm around me in rare displays of public affection. Even though the chemicals in his pre-teen body vehemently demand that he doesn’t; he still laughs at my jokes. And when we say goodbye on the phone – there is ALWAYS an ‘I love you.’ It’s a family thing. My parents and I say it to each other. Chad and I end our phone conversations that way. My brother and I tell each other when we speak on the phone. I say it to all my children if I’m on the phone with them. Pearce’s Dad also says it to him. And now, Pearce is in the habit. It’s muscle memory for him to end a phone conversation with ‘Love you.’

So, it was really a natural turn of events when earlier today, Pearce ended a phone conversation with one of his best guy buddies by saying, ‘Love you.’ I wish I had video of his facial expression as he realized what he’d said. I heard it and looked up. Chad heard it and looked up. Cole heard it and looked up. As realization struck and Pearce’s eyes exploded like popcorn, we all did the very supportive family thing. We howled with laughter. We might have even pointed and laughed. We laughed ourselves into tears. All this laughter while Pearce was frantically texting his buddy to explain in case he heard him as he was hanging up. Kuddos to his buddy, who responded with, “I didn’t hear it, but I love you too, bro.”

Pearce’s Dad called right at that moment and we all loudly encouraged Pearce to let him in on the hilarity, which he was hesitant to do. He finally gave in to our pressure and told his Dad, who I’m sure got a kick out of it. This was the moment when Pearce unintentionally challenged me to post this. He’s talking to his Dad and he dolefully says, “This will probably end up on Mom’s blog.”

What's a mom to do?

Growing Up

Today is a day of celebration. It's Cade's 3rd birthday. A landmark for sure. More than just a birthday, this day signifies the official end of the baby days in my house. I don't have a single child in the nursery at church now. Not a single kid in my house wears diapers.

There are no more sippy cups.

No more pacifiers.

No more quartered grapes!

Can I get an Amen!!

I might be more freaked out if it weren't for my older boys. Pearce, Cole, and Stone make me so proud - make me thankful for God's intervention (according to my parents, I deserve much, much worse in return for my childhood). I am not mourning the end of the baby days because of them.

I'm looking forward to seeing who this little boy becomes. I'm looking forward to knowing him as a person. I'm excited to see him grow into his humor, strengths, quirks. I'm looking forward to discovering his passions with him and encouraging his pursuits. And I'm looking forward to watching him become independent and confident in who he is aside from 'Dori's son.'

Cade Garret Young, I love you. You are wild and unpredictable and tenacious and unsinkable. You are more awesome than I could have dreamed. You are the reason the word 'awesome' was created.