Preparing

Candles.  Check.

Lighter.  Check.

Duct tape.  Check.

Garbage bags.  Check.

Knife.  Check.

Turner.  Check.

Flip.  Check. 

Batteries.  Check.

Hand sanitizer.  Check.

Permanent marker.  Check.

Plates, napkins, cups, table clothes.  Check.

Goodie bags.  Check.

Extra treats in case of extra non-RSVP guests.  Check.

Ok.  So I have my anal retentive moments.  I tend to favor the overly prepared approach.  But I would hate to need something and send someone on a 15 minute dash to drive to the store and back without ever was missed. 

Ice tea made and in the container.  Check.

Lemonade made and in the container.  Check.

Pitcher.  Check.

Spoon.  Check.

Powdered lemonade.  Check.

It’s May.  In Tucson.  Two gallons of lemonade just doesn’t seem like enough for a two-hour park party.  Hmmm.  Perhaps I should have agreed to water balloons.  No.  No.  It would be a bad idea.  All those balloon pieces that needed to be picked up.  No.

Huge box of Cheez-its from Costco.  Check.

A sliced up watermelon.  Check.

Maybe I over prepared for food.  There was only 9 RSVPs.  That included siblings.  Thank God for siblings.

Pizza.  9 kids.  10 adults.  4 extra-large pizzas.  Check.

We piled out of the car an hour before the party.  The grandma who was watching her granddaughter vacated the ramada with a “good luck” as I surveyed the piles of sand on the tables left by the adorable, dirty 3-year old girl.  I had told the woman not to worry about it because I was sure my boys had and will do worse at playgrounds.  The boys ran off down the hill to the playground with the command of “Watch Your Brother” ringing in their ears.  I hoped The Voice was enough to instill the importance of the command without a threat or two.  I checked the electrical outlets to find one broken.  Damn.  I set to work.

Oh crap.  I forgot the ice chest.

Luckily I had  reserves on stand-by.  They were already bringing streamers and such because I couldn’t find the box that held my party supplies.

The bounce house arrived 30 minutes later.  The guy surveyed the site.  “I hope my cord is long enough.”

My brain went into hyper-drive.  Ok.  As soon as the ex gets here with the ice, water, and the desperately needed caffeine, I’ll send him off to the dollar store for a couple of buckets and a load of squirt guns.  Maybe a couple of beach balls.  Oh and those water balls!  And-

“It’s long enough!”

Awesome.

Three hours later, with many more hands to clean up and pack up, with the last family sent off with a “no, we got it.  Thank you for coming,” I surveyed the boys.  All three were stained with sno-cone juice, pizza sauce, and  lemonade and covered with dirt.  The older two were digging into their goodie bags with tons of Star Wars theme goodies.  Aidan ran around chasing his Papi.

“Well, Sean.  Did you like your party?”

“YEA!!!!   Hey!  Star Wars fruit snacks!”

Apparently he wasn’t heart-broken over the non-Star Wars bounce house, and he couldn’t read the “Happy Brthday” sign, so it was a success.  How could it not be with an awesome Star Wars cake?

Then I looked at the giggling toddler in my dad’s arms as he carried Aidan to the car.  The completely stained and dirty toddler.

“He’s going to fall asleep in those clothes on the way home, isn’t he?”

“Yup.  And probably that full diaper too,”  my mom answered.

Yup.  It was a good party.  Too bad I didn’t bring a hose and extra clothes.

A bit about Sean

It’s a crazy whirlwind here as the last days of school tick down to summer vacation that I am completely unprepared for.  Sean “graduated” from pre-kindergarten yesterday, but that is only a minor blip in the radar.  More importantly tomorrow is his birthday, which he has told nearly everyone he saw running errands today while wearing his birthday crown from school.

Since he’s been counting down for over two weeks, I might as well start the celebration off here with 10 things about Sean:

1. According to a questionnaire taken at school, Sean wants to be a police officer when he grows up.  Isn’t that a far cry from the Sith Lord he tells me he wants to be?

2.  His favorite color is red.  Because of the Sith Lords.

3. If he picks out a book, it’s always a Star Wars book.  Always.

4. The phrases he says most are “Right?”  “Can you even believe it?”  “What the?”  “Oh my God” “Did you know that?”

5. When he gets excited, he grins from ear and ear and shakes his fists next to his face.  It’s pretty adorable.

6. Sean is a nice tan color.  When he was younger and I would help him wash his hands, I used to scrub and scrub his hands to get the dirt off.  About the fifth scrubbing, it would dawn on me that it was his skin color.  Oops.

7. I have to buy the kid pop corn when he goes to the movies or he won’t shut up. 

8. The kid is ambidextrous.  My brothers want to teach him how to pitch.  I just want to teach him how to write.  And I could if he wasn’t so damn stubborn in his belief that he can’t.

9. He creates whole worlds with his toys.  I love watching him.

10. We just got Skylanders.  Sean now has a competing obsession with Star Wars.

So happy birthday, my boy!  Hopefully this year is all that you want it to be.

And if you’re curious, this is Sean’s birth story.

That’s my kid

Mother’s Day found us at my uncle’s house.  My dad’s brother.  The legendary clan of pranks, jokesters, and tricksters.  I had forgotten, or maybe I hadn’t realized fully, that my uncle had taught his kids to play a little more rough than the rest of us.  I’m the eldest.  What did it matter that my little cousins were doing pink belly or hurtz donuts?  I could put them in a headlock or throw them over my shoulder.

I did remember my little girl cousin had a streak of viciousness to her jokes and pranks as well as a touch of tactlessness that made her cross  that line without even realizing it was there.  She didn’t realize when the joke should have ended.  I have always hoped age and life would smooth those edges. 

Little cousin: We should put a bow in your hair.

Sean: NO!

Little cousin: A big pink bow!

Sean: NO!

LC: AND a dress to match!

Sean: NO!

LC: And we’ll paint your nails pretty pink to match your pink dress and your pink bow!

Sean: NO!!!

LC: But you’ll be so pretty!

Sean: NO!!!!

Apparently those edges weren’t so smooth yet.

LC: Think how cute and pretty you’ll be!  Like  a princess!

Sean: NO!!!!

LC: With your bright pink bow! 

Sean: NO!!!!

LC: And your bright pink dress! 

Sean: NO!!!!

LC: And your bright pink nails!

Sean: NO!!!!

Evan: How about red nails Sean?  Like the Emperor?

Ah, a new challenger has entered the field.

Sean: YEAH!!!  Red like the Emperor!

LC: Evan, we’ll get you a dress too!

Evan: (shrugs) That’s ok.  I like dresses.

My little cousin looked at me.  Her mouth opened.  I say the gay joke fluttered in her eyes.  Something to save face.

Me: That sure shut you up.

She closed her mouth.  I smiled.

Me: That boy is a (family name) through and through.  Meet yourself, Little Cousin, when you were six.

Evan smiled.

Between you and me, I don’t think my little cousin was ever as quick and bright as Evan.  The talent is strongest in the eldest.  And Evan is the eldest in a long line of eldests.

Not another penis rule

Sean: Mommy!  How many penises does a snowman have?

Me: Um, what?  What?!

Sean: TWO!  One to keep!  And one to throw at people!

Me: What?

Sean: Mommy!  How many penises does a monster have?!

Me: Sean, I don’t know if-

Sean: TWO!  One to pee with!  And one to throw at good guys!

Me: Sean, we need to talk.  About these jokes.  We don’t make jokes about penises.  And-

Sean: Mommy!  How many penises do I have?!

Me: Oh, dear God, no.

Sean: ONE!!!  I fooled you, Mommy!  You were going to say two!

Me: No.  I happen to know you only have one. 

Sean: Mommy!

Me: Sean!  No more jokes about penises.

Sean: But they’re funny.

Me: No.  No, they’re not.  I’m sorry, but you have to know, as part of the clan, you have to work on your material.  It’s just the way it is in the family.  And no more penis jokes.

Sean: But-

Me: No.

Christ, I thought I had until Evan went to camp.  Does any one know how many penis rules I’m up to now?  Because I forgot.

Lucky Boy

Sean: I love you, Mommy!

Me: I love you, too.

Sean: I love you, three!

Me: I love you, four.

Sean: I love you, five!

Me: I love you, six.

Sean: I love you, SEVEN!

Ok, I think I should end this before we go up through a hundred.

Me: I love you, infinity!

And yes, Sean understands infinity.  Sort of.  Many things cost infinity dollars.

Sean: I love you, infinity plus one!

Me: Little, clever bot.

Sean: Wait!  I love you, INFINITY PLUS TEN!  That’s the highest number!  You can’t count any more!

Me: Wow!  I’m a lucky mommy to be loved that much.

Sean: I’m a lucky boy to love my mommy that much!

Words from the boys

Sean: Mommy, can you buy me Lucky Charms?  They’re on my diet!

(Note: Their father discusses what’s on his diet.)

***

Sean: Mommy!  Did you you hear that big noise?  Do you know what that was?  That was me cleaning up my toys!

(Note: Without being asked!)

***

Sean: Mommy!  I have a big hug here!  Do you want it?!

Me: Of course.

(He had his arms clasped behind his back and threw his arms around me to give me a bear hug.)

***

Me: You’re one of my favorite boys.

Evan: I am?!

Me: Yup!  Do you know how many I have?

Evan: THREE!

Me: Yup!  I’m pretty lucky!

Evan: What aren’t Uncle Face and Uncle Friendly Giant your favorite boys too?

Me: Um.

(I’m just glad he didn’t ask about his father.)

***

Evan: Can you buy me a night cap?

Me: I don’t think they make them anymore.

Evan: Ok.  I’ll just wear my pajama pants on my head.

(Your guess is as good as mine.

***

Aidan: MOMMYYYYYYYY!

(Ok, so it’s not clever.  But when he runs at me with his arms wide out and yelling that, it’s damn cute.)

(This post was written three times on three different topics/stories.  I blame the kid laying down, whining that he didn’t want me to read to him.)

Fashion Sense

My mom is accusing me of being a bad parent.  Not in so many words.  Not very shocking.  I don’t help the boys pick their outfits.  I just make sure it’s weather appropriate.  She thinks I’m neglecting an important lesson.

And I rolled my eyes.

Kids should be able to express themselves through dressing.  They’ll figure out fashion sense.  I love Evan’s and Sean’s outfits.  Sean is usually grab the first pair of pants/shorts and shirt kind of guy.  But Evan puts thought into his outfits, even if they’re a little unique.  I never had a problem.  Even with capes, full baseball uniforms, plaid with stripes, plaid shorts, clashing colors, tuxedos.  It was great.

I regretted it today.

Evan walked down stairs in a blue-and-white-checkered, long-sleeve, button-up shirt and blue-orange-black plaid shorts that reached under his knees. 

My jaw dropped.

“Oh my,” escaped my mouth in a whisper.

Evan: What do you think, Mommy?!

Um.

What?

Um.

Crap.

Me: You definitely have style, Evan.  Can I take your picture?

He nodded.

Sean: Look at me, MOMMY!

Sean was wearing black camo pants with a Lego Star Wars shirt and a fireman boot and a cowboy boot.  Sean was normal.

Sean: Take my picture!

My mom just might be right.

Faith, Belief, and Bad Guys

Evan: Christians are people who go to church!

Me: Um, no.  Christians are people who believe Jesus was Christ.  (Don’t say any more.  Don’t say any more.  They’re not old enough.  DO NOT say any more!)

Evan: Oh.  I believe in Jesus, so I’m a Christian.

Me: (Good enough.)  Yes.

Sean: I don’t believe in Jesus.

Evan: YES!  You do!

Sean: No, I don’t.

Me: Why not, Sean?

Sean: I don’t want to tell you.

Me: That’s ok.  I was just curious.

Sean: Can you guess who my favorite person in the Bible is?

Me: (How many “bad” guys have they taught him about?)  Judas?

Sean: THAT’S RIGHT!  JUDAS!  He’s a bad guy!

Me: (Don’t say anything.  Don’t say anything!) He betrayed Jesus, so many consider him a bad guy.  (Ah, crap.)

Sean: He had Jesus killed!

Me: (Shut up.  Shut up.  Shut up.)  No.  That was a bunch of temple leaders.  The (SHUT UP!).  Nevermind.  A lot of people were afraid of Jesus, so they went out and had him killed.

Sean: Because of Judas!

Me: Yes.  But Jesus had to die, so maybe Judas was doing what he was told.  (God, why am I having a religious discussion with my very young boys?!  I’m an idiot.)

Sean: Judas is still my favorite because he’s a bad guy.

Apparently I can’t keep myself from mudding up religious waters.

And when do I start worrying about Sean’s affinity for bad guys?  When he starts idolizing Stalin?

Favorites

When asked who are mother’s favorite is, my brothers and I respond different.  They say me.  I maintain its Face.  When she is in the room, we all say a different sibling.  Because it’s fun to irritate my mother.  But truly it’s Face.  “But he was in trouble the most!  I punished him the most!” my mother says.  True, but if I had done any of the things he had done, I would have been locked up in a convent until I was 18.

When we are asked about our dad’s favorite, we all look at each other and shrug.  I don’t know.

***

When talking to other moms, the discussion of favorites comes about.  Usually to deny favorites or secretly admit them.  I always boasted, “Aidan’s my favorite!  He can’t run away or back talk!”

Guess what.  He can.  Which means I need a new catch phrase.

“It changes from minute to minute.”

***

Evan: You look like a zombie.

He was immediately demoted to below his brothers.  Since it was the *Very First* thing he said today, he was demoted beneath my books, chocolate, and hot showers.

Sean: Wow!  Mommy, you cleaned the whole house!

He was immediately my favorite because it was said without sarcasm and with enthusiasm.

Aidan ran and hugged me.

He was immediately my favorite.

Evan: Mommy, you make the best breakfasts!

Evan was immediately my favorite.

Evan: Mommy, your tummy is bigger than daddy’s!  You have a fat tummy!  (Evan was immediately demoted under his brothers.  Again.)

Sean: Mommy, you’re fat!  (Sean was immediately demoted with Evan.  If we had a pet, they would be beneath the pet.)

Evan: And you have a fat butt!  (Laughter from both boys)

Sean was demoted beneath books, chocolate, and hot showers.  Evan was demoted beneath books, movies, all desserts, hot showers, and Disneyland.

And in *my* defense, I am NOT bigger than the ex.  I do NOT have a bigger gut than the ex.  And my pajama pants make my butt look big.  AND all of this happened in the first hour of the day!

My Mom: Well, in their defense, Fae, you could stand to lose five to ten pounds.

My mom was now demoted beneath the boys, my father, my brothers, my sister-in-law, my friends, and my favorite grandma. 

Sean: HUG!  (He wrapped me into a bear hug.)

He was now my favorite.

Aidan hugged me.

He was now my favorite.

Evan waited until the boys are doing something else and hugged me.

Evan: I love you, Mommy.

Evan was my favorite.

Look at that.  Three favorites.

And my mom is still demoted.

 

 

22 months

Aidan lifted up his shirt and patted his belly.  “BELLY!”

He toddled over to me, pulled up my shirt, and patted my belly.  “BELLY!”

No, no, not belly, baby.

Um, oops. 

“Good job, Aidan!  Belly!  You’re right!”

A few weeks ago, it felt like ghosts of memories were rising from the floor as Aidan toddled around, ran after his brothers, babbled, and threw things.  He was a tornado.  Just like his brothers.  22 months crystalized in my head what a toddler was like because of the major events in our lives at that time.

When Evan was 22 months, I was hugely pregnant with my best friend back in my life and a marriage on the rocks.  Evan carried around a little flashlight, counted to 16 by 2s, said his ABC’s perfectly, and played like he was 8 because his best friends were 10.  Evan would stand at the living room window waiting for “Osh” to come outside, getting up early to wave goodbye as they left for school and standing there in the afternoon waiting for homework to be done.  “Ucy” lived next door to “Osh,” and when Evan came running to play they toned down their games and let him join them. 

Now I look at Aidan, weeks away from two, and he is bound and determined to be 6.  Whatever Evan can do, Aidan can too.  Aidan caries around his Mama Shirt or teddy bears or cars.  He’s babbles more and more.  Words are popping out of the babble more and more with Evan excited to translate.  He’s even translating right and what Aidan actually wants.

When Sean was 22 months, we moved to Arizona to a house less than half the size with the agreement that the ex worked 2 weeks in AZ and 2 weeks in CA.  I have blog posts to document the tornado in action.  He carried around his blankie.  The first week he had his own bed, he went to bed early by himself.  Anything Evan could do so could he, including sports, riding bikes, and crafts. Some ventures turned out better than others.  He liked cars and toy people, spending hours on end playing with toy people, placing them in cars and driving them about.  He made up stories and worlds, content to play by himself.

Adain gets to play with toys that should be to advance for him.  But he loves playing with the toy people and trucks.  He can be perfectly fine sitting there playing with his toys.  Unless I’m cooking, and then  he has to help.

Like the other stages in their lives, I like this one the best.