Recap 10/28

1. I get a little annoyed when I don’t get to write.

2. A craft!  We did a craft!  But I had to redo it because one instruction was wrong.  So very, very wrong.

3. I need a bumper sticker.  “My son is a supervillian!”  Because of Sean.

4. I don’t get grossed out by much, but seeing Evan twist around his tooth.  Ewww.

5. First rule of parenting boys, never let them see you grossed out.  So I responded: Cool.

6. Why won’t Aidan sleep?!

7. I can think of a handful of people, one in particular, that I am more than willing to lose sleep to be with.  Aidan is not on that list.

8. I am an awesome friend.  I watched two more children and fought the good sleep rebellion until almost 11pm.  On a school night.

9. I am officially a cool mom.  Since I dressed up for the Halloween festival at Evan’s school last weekend, kids have been saying hi to me.  Most of them are from the higher grades.

10. I know everyone means well when they say, “You’re looking great!”  But now that so many people are saying that, I’m starting to wonder how I looked before.

11.  I got an email read on the radio!

12. I’m thinking of decorating my shoes.  I obviously need another art project.

13. Today Evan showed me a special surprise.  “Mommy, I love you. By Evan”. Written in dry erase marker on the bathroom mirror.

14. So I did more than ten today, I have a lot to say.

Just some potty humor

I grew up with boys.  I thought it prepared me for having boys.  I was wrong.  There is so many things I didn’t know.  So many things that I never thought you would be said.

***

Sean: Mommy!  My penis is attacking me!

Apparently this means he needs to pee.

***

Sean: Mommy, my penis is sad.  When it’s little, it’s sad.

***

Evan: The reason I’m wet there (meaning the crotch) is because my penis got sweaty.  I am wearing sweat pants.

***

In a busy public bathroom.

Sean:  Mommy!  You pee from your butt!  Where do you poop?

***

Um, yeah.

Mimic

One of the cool things about having kids is you can teach them to be like you, to like what you like and “to hate what you hate” (Home Simpson.)  It’s cool to show them a favorite childhood movie or read them a favorite childhood book.  You beam when they beg for you not to turn off the radio playing one of your favorite songs.  You smile as they do things you remember doing yourself.

One of the worst things about having kids is they can be just like you.

As I wrote down a story Evan had just told me, he buckled up in the back.  School was out, and it was time to finally go home.

Evan: Mommy, I’m waiting.

In a sarcastic tone that I recognize right off the back.  I opened myself to tell him to change his tone.

Evan: Waiting.

In a sarcastic tone that should have come out of my mouth.  Oh my God.  It’s me.  He’s parroting me.  He’s been listening to me be sarcastic with the adults in our lives.  The timing, the tone, the one word.  It was perfect.  It was funny.  If it wasn’t so rude and aimed at me.  God, I am a brat.

Evan: (in a sing-song manner) Waiting.  (pause.)  Waiting.  (pause.)  Waiting.

Ok, now you over did it.

Um, oops

The younger boys still needed hair cuts.  Sean had school pictures this week.  My friend agreed to photograph the boys for their yearly pictures.  It just had to be done this weekend.

After I signed in the boys I looked in my wallet.  I had only a large bill that the sign at the register said they couldn’t take. I sighed and asked their father if he had any change or if he could go break the bill he had given me in the first place.  He told me he’d go get me the weekly funds as soon as we had Sean settled.

Sean hated getting his haircut.  At four years old, it was only the last haircut that he didn’t cry and fuss and demand I hold hom throughout the ordeal.  But Sean was a big boy now.  He climbed into the seat by himself as Aidan was called for his haircut.  As I walked by Sean’s seat, the hair dresser asked their father what kind of haircut Sean was getting.  As though he knew.

I said with the confidence of only a seasoned veteran with considerable amounts of experience could muster, “He needs a 2 razor.”  I walked by holding Aidan, smiling at Sean.

I sat down in the chair and was caped.  Aidan started fussing as he was caped, trying to climb the summit of the top of my head.  The hair dresser and I worked to soothe Aidan.  I glanced at the mirror.  Sean nodded to his father’s question, and Evan and their father walked out of the hair cut place.

I turned back to calming Aidan.

“Isn’t that funny?!  Do you want your hair like that?!  We should show your Mommy!”

I looked in the mirror.  The hair dresser had taken the razor straight down Sean’s head.  It did look funny.  A little on the short side, but Sean’s hair was pretty shaggy.  Well, no going back now.

I turned my attention back to Aidan, who squirmed but had stopped crying.  His hair dresser used the scissors, waiting until Aidan was still and then a quick snip.  The hair dresser was patient.  He was the best hair dresser I had ever seen with small children, and we talked about small kids and haircuts and the like.

The boys were done at the same time.  But I still didn’t have the money.  Aidan’s hair dresser told us we could wait in the waiting room, letting the boys enjoy suckers.  It was then I got a good look at Sean.

Oh My God!  Where was his hair?!!

Sean: MAMA!!!!  I’M BALD!!!!

He buried his face in my lap, sobbing.  I wanted to sob too!  What was I thinking?!  A 2 razor!  My brown-eyed, brunette’s handsome locks were gone.  GONE!  And he was horrified.  And it was all my fault!  No one should listen to me about haircuts!

I rubbed his back, blinking back my own tears.

Me: It’s ok, baby.  You look handsome.  Don’t worry.  It’ll grow back.  Hair grows.  And you look good.  I promise.

He looked up at me with big brown eyes, filled with tears, smiling at me.  And then he burst into tears again.

I am a horrible mom!

I rubbed his back, whispering soothing words that weren’t soothing.

Evan burst into the room.  Sean looked up.

Evan: Sean!  You look funny!

Sean burst into tears again.

I gave Evan a look.

Their father: What happened?

Me: Wrong razor number.  Doesn’t he look handsome?  And cute?

Sean looked up, gave a brave smile, and then threw himself at his father for another cry.  I pulled Evan aside.

Me: (in a fierce whisper) Did Sean make fun of you when you shaved your head?  (Evan shook his head.)  What you said was not nice.  It hurt his feelings.  You need to make it better.

Evan walked over to Sean.

Evan: Sean!  Sean!  You look good!  Your hair looks good!  You know what!  Darth Vader is bald too!  You look like Darth Vader!

Both boys beamed at each other and bounced around.

Sean:  Mama!  I look like Darth Vader!

Let us all agree that I am not allowed to walk into the hair dresser’s without a picture of what I want in my hand.

Recap 10/21

1. My rental company is done with the owner f-ing around.  They sent in their own guys to take a look and assure me it’ll be done by the end of next week.  Exposed wire is bad, right?

2. Evan lost another tooth.  Hopefully we can hold on to it until the tooth fairy can get to it.

3. Someone explain the evolutionary benefits of hormonal cycles because I can’t understand how killing your kids or mate is going to benefit the survival of the species.

4. Sean is calling me “mama.”  In every other sentence.

5. Aidan’s favorite game is “Gravity Check.”  He doesn’t like when I catch the object mid-air.

6. So there’s this song I want to hear.  I don’t know the title or the artist or the year.  I barely can catch the melody in my head.  And the lyrics I do remember isn’t coming up in the search, so I obviously have them wrong.

7.  I don’t mind advice.  Except when it comes from two people.  Then I want to ask it when I need it and use duct tape when I don’t.

8. My college best friend used to tell me when he was tired of listening to someone who wouldn’t shut up, he just started playing one of his favorite songs in his head, really loud.  I should try that.  You don’t think he did that to me, do you?

9. Glow in the dark body glitter.

10. At parenting class:  “One of my issues is Evan likes to hang around and is influenced by older, energetic, bright, spirited children who need more discipline,” I said.  The teacher responded, “Fae.  Just call them brats.  That’s what you meant.”

Just a few questions

As I whirl about trying to get things done and accomplish nothing, I have a few questions swirling around my head.

When did Aidan learn “help” and “hello”?

Did they really need to put a slit in the Princess Leia costume?

How is it this is the third store in a row that doesn’t have Sean size?

Are there that many women who want to dress as sluts for Halloween?

Why aren’t things getting crossed off my list?

Why can’t I never find time to make phone calls until at 9pm?

Why aren’t more businesses open after 9pm?

Why is parenting so hard?

Is the week really almost over?

Is my mom’s birthday really this weekend?

Why must I repeat myself three times?

Did I have lunch?

When did I buy these cucumbers?

Huh?

When an  in time todo Halloween crafts?

Where did Evan get this cheese wrapper from?

Why does this kid have so muc homework?

Why do I keep forgetting to buy a new keybord?

7, 8, 9

Evan: Mommy, why was 5 afraid of 6?

Me: I don’t know.  Why?

Evan: Because . . . because . . . six got nine.

Me: Evan, why is 6 afraid of 7?

Evan: Why?

Me: Because seven, eight, nine.

Evan: Huh?

Me: Eight and ate.  Seven ate nine.  Seven, eight, nine.  It’s a number sequence.

Evan: Um, ok.

***

Sean: Mommy, why was 5 afraid of 6?

Me: Why?

Sean: 010101!

Me: Ok. How about?  Why is 6 afraid of 7?

Sean: Why?

Me: Because seven, eight, nine.

Sean: Mommy, why is 4 afraid of 3?

Me: Why?

Sean: Because 2, 5, 6, 3!

Me: Um.

Sean: Why is 2 afraid of 1?

Me: Why?

Sean Because 1, 0, 0, 9!

Me: Uh.

Sean: Mommy!  Why is 0 afraid of 1?

Me: Um, why?

Sean: Because 5, 3, 1, 2!

Me: Um.

Sean: Mommy!  Why is  . . .

Recp 5/17

1. I am fully aware that today is Monday and not Friday.  Fully aware.

2. If it’s not on the list, I will not remember to do it or buy it.  I’m trying to decide if it’s because of having too much to do, having kids, or being sleep deprived.

3. When I read Jane Austin, I start to think in the same language and diction.  It’s slightly annoying.

4. After a weekend away, it’s easy to tell Aidan’s language is improving by leaps and bounds.

5. When deciding to bring a gift home for the kids, you can’t go wrong with candy.

6. I have finally relented to Evan having pizza at the school.  I am back to being the coolest mom ever.

7. Sean has decided to be Darth Vader for Halloween.  Why did I ever think otherwise?

8. Sean still has a toddler accent as well as picking up a Canadian accent.  Yeah, I don’t get it either.

9. It’s been a very long time since I had a couple of hours to read to myself.

10. It’s probably very selfish of me to want my weekend away to be longer.  But it’s what I wish and can’t stop smiling when thinking about it,

The Best Day Ever

Tuesdays are Evan’s religious class.  Weird.  It starts 50 minutes after he gets out of class.  It is fifteen minutes away from the school.  It’s not worth driving home, unbuckling kids, buckling kids, and driving to the church.  Lately we’ve grabbed snacks and played in the church courtyard or tempted fate by going to a store.

This last Tuesday was a busy one.  Lots of errands with the younger boys.  Two grocery stores and a Walmart run.  Then a run to the material store to price check material for Jedi cloaks.  Even if Sean is demanding a Sith Lord one.  I’ll make him one, but Jedis are first, damnit.  So when I took them to the snack bar at Target, I expected a revolt from one of the younger boys.

I selected popcorn and Icees as well as fruit juice for Aidan.  Evan and Sean took great pleasure in picking out their own flavor.  Then they sat with me and started munching on popcorn.

Sean:  Mommy, this is the BEST DAY EVER!

Me: Why?

Sean: Because we got ICEES!

Me: I’m glad you’re happy. (And easy to please.)

Sean: This is the BEST DAY EVER!  I love you, Mommy.

For a buck-fifty, I made a four-year-old’s day.  Not a bad value.

Fashon tips

“He’s never going to learn how to dress properly,” my mom said.

Forgive me if I thought she was referring to Sean.  Because she’s right.  I fail in the way of teaching a child how to put on a shirt and socks.  She taught Evan one weekend when she was visiting us at the Orange house.  I didn’t even watch her because I was too busy with a baby.

But no, she meant Evan who on that day was wearing a long-sleeve, blue and white checkered, button-up shirt with orange, black, blue plaid shorts.  I didn’t buy either piece of clothing, but he was happy to wear them.  I love his fashion sense, braving new fashion trends.  Who else would wear scrubs and a cam0 bucket hat?  Who else would wear a cape and galoshes?  Who else would match plaid with Hawaiian floral?  Who else wears a tux to a school function?  God, I love that kid.

“Fashion says you can wear prints together now.  Lord knows I couldn’t pull it off,” I answered.

My mom rolled her eyes.  “How is he ever going to get a girlfriend?  He’s going to be weird his whole life,” she countered.

Um, duh.  I’m weird.  My children have no hope.  They are obsessed with Star Wars.  They play in fairy wings and nail polish.  Their father is carefully teaching them The Lord of the Rings mythology as I teach them real mythology.  I can’t wait until we have our own house so they can decorate their room however they want.

But I said, “Girlfriend?  He’s six.  Besides isn’t that what girlfriends do?  They teach boys to dress?”

My mom gave a tortured sigh.  She then turned to Evan to explain how plaids and checkers don’t match as I buckled Sean into the truck.

As we drove away, I looked at Evan in the rear view mirror.

“Hey, Evan, love, dress how you want.  Just remember collared shirts for church.”

He smiled.

“When you get older, we’ll talk about appropriate clothing for school.”

“What do you mean, Mommy?”

“You’ll know in about six years.”

“OK.  And Mommy, I love you.”

“I love you too, little dude.”