Summer

It’s summer.  It began at 12:25 today.  Both boys are out of school.  I’ve had a week to prepare.

At first, I was like, OH my god, this is going to be the best summer ev-er!  We’ll go swimming and do crafts and do science experiments and read and go exploring and see free movies and do Science Sundays at the Children’s Museum and maybe camping and a weekend trip.  This is going to rock!

And then Monday as I was grocery shopping, I looked down at Aidan and realized that the next Monday I’ll be grocery shopping with three boys.  Trying to control three boys in the grocery store.  I remembered going to Target a few days before with the boys and thought I was going to have to abandon them.  And then I remembered last year when I spent all summer in parent-detention, stuck sitting at the table, waiting for the boys to finish their workbooks.  Some days it took 6 hours to do 2 pages in the workbook.  I was like shoot me; shoot me now.

Then I had a panic attack.  A small one.  That lasted 5 minutes.

For the last several days, I’ve been swinging between excitement and despair.

I have plans.  Like no video games if the workbooks aren’t done, but I’m might be missing the loop-hole.  Evan and Sean have to read every day, which Evan will enjoy.  Sean has to do fine motor skill activities every day, and I have a whole bunch of stickers to reward him with.  A friend suggested the boys and I make a plan for the summer so the boys know what to expect.  I’ve learned to find all kinds of free or cheap things to do.  I feel like I need to make a lesson plan for the summer.  Maybe I should.  Then I would have more practice on writing them.  Then again that is possibly insane.  Extremely rigid.  Probably not good for my codependency.

Somehow I will figure this out.

But tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  We’ll celebrate the first day of summer in style.  Out for breakfast.  Walking at the mall to try it out.  Sign up for the summer reading program at the library.  Ice cream lunch.  Making tie-dye shirts.  Swimming.  Fish tacos.  It’s going to be awesome.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

My Passenger

The other day I had to drive across town to drop off some paperwork at the school district.  Our city is sprawling without a freeway system.  (Don’t get me started on that cluster-.)  It can be a drive.  Aidan was sitting in the back, playing with toys and chatting with me.

Aidan: Snack, Mommy?

Me: You had a snack.

Aidan: Bread, Mommy?

Me: No, we don’t need to go to the bakery.

Aidan: Prezzle, Mommy?

We just passed a bakery that was known for pretzels.

Me: Not today, Aidan.

Aidan: Sushi, Mommy?

As we passed a sushi joint.

Me: Nope.  Not today.

Aidan: Lunch, Mommy?

Me: It’s still early morning, sweetheart.  Lunch is a while away.

We were approached a traffic light.

Aidan: Stay green!  Stay green!  Stay green!  Stay green!

Oh God, what am I teaching my son?  I better check my road rage.  And hard.

We sailed through the green light.

Aidan: YEA!!!

In case you’re wondering, he repeated this with every light.  That’s a lot of traffic lights.

Then we arrived at the district.

Aidan: Mommy!  We go up the snake?!

He pointed to the spiral staircase.

As it happens, we did have to go up the spiral staircase.  When we left the office, he was excited to leave.

Aidan: Mommy!  We go down the snake?!

Me: Yes!  Hold on to the rail.

When we got down to the bottom floor, Aidan looked at me.

Aidan: Mommy!  We go up the snake?!

Me: No, it’s time to go.

Aidan: NO!!!

He tried to run up the stairs, but I scooped him up and threw him over my shoulder.

Aidan: Not a sack of potatas!  Mommy!  I not!  A sack of potatas!

So I put him on my hip and kissed him.

Me: No, you’re not.  You’re my Aidan.  And I love you.

Aidan hugged me tight.

Aidan: I love you!

Oh, you can see me.

I’m not anonymous anymore.

Well, not really.

(Ok, so I was out two years ago by some crazy ex-employee of the ex.  But no one goes looking at that thread on some crazy “report” site.  That’s not really what I’m talking about.)

It’s the boys and their names.  You type in their names, and the blog comes up on the first page.  You type in their names and Arizona or blog, and the blog comes up first page.  So if you know me and that I wrote a blog and you know my boys’ names, it is stumbling easy to find the blog.

I’m not sure how I feel about this.

When I first started the blog, I did some research on other blogs and what they did for their children’s names.  Then I did a search on Evan and Sean.  It was a popular combination of boys names.  But when you add Aidan, well, you get a more unique combination.  No one has three children any more or are graced with three boys.

This only comes up because I’m a pretty private person online.  (Except I used my real name and photo on Pinterest)  My Facebook is pretty locked-down tight.  I didn’t use my real name to set this up or the Twitter account.  I’m annoyed how easily it is to get my address online.  The only things I want to come up online is any writing with my name on it.  Ok, it’s also cool that I’m still up for a panel discussion I did years ago at my alma mater.  (And Pinterest.  Not sure how I feel about that.)

I only think about my privacy because I had a stalker in my past (and we all pray he stays in my past) and that one day I’ll be teaching high schoolers.  Tech-savvy high schoolers.  My only hope is that they are so self-absorbed in their own worlds that they never think to research into my life.

Also I plan never to say anything negative about them in a public forum, so if I’m recorded, I’m not in trouble.  I mean that’s just common sense.

But the question is how far do I go to reveal my life.  How much can I be an open book when I know just possibly someone I know might fine the blog and look threw it, learning things that I didn’t want said person to know.  But then I did make a public blog.

That question came to mind when I realized I’m holding a lot of secrets, and the ones that hurt the most are not even mine.  I realized those secrets aren’t my burden.  I’m not the one who has to be ashamed.  So I decided I’m not going to keep them.  It’s not like I plan on running around screaming them, but I’m not going to protect them any more.  If the conversation ever turns to those secrets, I’ll tell the truth.  Every time I do that I will be true to myself and take another step towards healing.

So there.  I’m easily to find under this name with the right information, and I, like every other person on the planet, has secrets.  Somehow I have to figure out how much of my mask and armor do I take off to be in this space.

My Second Tornado is Six. Or where is the time going?

My middle child, my second boy, my cream of my Oreo cookie turned six Saturday.  What can I tell you about my boy?

1. He’s created his own world.  The Nine-Nine world.  It’s an amazing place with Nine-Nine Dragons and Nine-Nine Sharks.  And the biggest, meanest, most evil in the Nine-Nine Emperor Dragon.  Of course, it’s a world of bad guys.  But I think of it like bad guys with souls.  Or rather I’m hoping they are misunderstood creatures framed in the villain role.

2. Yes, he’s still obsessed with villains.  Hoping to start loosening that obsession, we showed him Pirates of the Caribbean.  Jack Sparrow is a like a villain and like a good guy.  Nope, Sean liked Captain Barbossa.  As a skeleton.

3. His favorite colors are red and black.  Because those are bad guy colors.

4. His favorite movies are still Star Wars movies and cartoons.  His favorite books are anything Star Wars.  His favorite toys are anything Star Wars.  As well as the Imaginatrix castles and knights and ninjas and dragons.  We could build a town with a small army.

5. Don’t let the bad-guy obsession fool you.  Sean is a sweetheart.  He wears his heart on his sleeve.  He’s sweet and caring.  He’s gentle and kind.  His teachers have all fallen in love with him.  Sean could never be a villain.

6. He’s also top in his class for math.  He is one of the most knowledgeable kids.  He reads.  Not that he has shown me, but he does it in class.

7. But his fine motor skills are woefully behind because he’s ambidextrous.  He’s going to have a hard time next year if I don’t get him help this summer.  He’s too bright to be held back, but his fine motor skills are very weak.

8. Sean is bright enough to learn that the fun activities we’ve been doing for the last two months are work in disguise.  Work for his fine motor skills.  Great.  Just great.  Now I have to find more crafts and activities for him to do for 20 minutes every day.

9. He’s growing out of needing a blankie for bedtime.  He loves it dearly but half the time forgets to bring it to bed.  My heart is breaking.

10. He does try to bring his big Angry Bird pig to bed.  Because he loves the pigs because they’re bad guys.  And he has a smaller one, but he gave it to Aidan because he loved it and wants to be like Sean.  So Sean sleeps in his bed with a big piggy and Evan.

Happy birthday, my little dude.  Please stop growing so fast.

And if you want to read his birth story, it’s here.

Recap 5/17

1. Last Saturday my dad came over and helped me get my backyard in shape.  It looks awesome.  Now I’ve got to get a plastic pool.  Now if only my house matched my backyard.

2. My house should be declared a natural disaster.  With the end of school and all the running around and the three tornadoes.

3. Mom, I know technically it’s true, but please refrain from calling the ex my husband.  Unless it comes after ex- or late-.

4. As for the ex, you’re only requirement for Mother’s Day is to buy a gift for the boys to give me because you’re teaching them to honor the day for their mother and future mothers of their children.  Barring that, the least you could’ve done was stay away so I could’ve called a friend and bitched about you.

5. Aidan has had a few insomnia attacks this week.  I owe my sanity to that playlist.  Though it reminds me of Semisonic’s “Singing in my Sleep.”

6. I’m scrambling to do all I can to help Sean with his fine motor skills.  Next stop the dollar store for supplies.  But first, he did twenty minutes of mazes, nearly finished the book.  The book that was going to last all summer.  Supposedly.  Oh well.

7. Evan was so excited by watermelon season.  He kissed the watermelon.

8. We played Speed Golf this weekend.  It’s like golf but in miniature!  And fast.  Hit twice and put it in the hole.  Unless you have Aidan’s help like I did.  I played the best golf game of my life.  When I take up golf, I am making Aidan my caddy.

9. I ordered a few things online.  I got them already.  YEA!  Except one of the shirts is all wrong.  And two of the prints were mis-ordered.  BOO!

10. Class is over!  For the summer!  I should have time to write!  And read other blogs!  (I miss them.)  Except it’s summer for the boys, which is great, except for all the forcing them to do workbooks and read and clean up.  And I have my teaching test in just over a month.  And mediation in a few weeks.  And my history teaching test in the beginning of September.  I’m no longer excited.

The 5:

I can tell how much happier I am when I do them all.  And how there’s an empty hole when I don’t do most of them.  I hope the summer will give me more time to do it all.

(Excuse me, while I go keep my children from killing each other.)

Fond Memories

As we waited for a table for breakfast on Sunday, which happened to be Mother’s Day, the boys grew bored, even with their uncles standing right there to amuse.  But what’s more fun than messing with your brother?  Not much.  So my boys were touching each other, pushing each other, making jokes about each other, getting into each other’s faces to make weird noises, hugging/strangling each other, just messing with each other.  Nothing turned into a fight, it just hovered there.

My Mom: Your boys like messing with each other.  A lot.

Me: (shrugged) Most siblings do.

My Mom: You kids didn’t.

A montage of childhood antics flashed before my eyes.  The Face crying when the swing knocked him in the back of the head.  The Friendly Giant dropping and breaking my piggy bank as I wrestled The Face.  Turning and seeing The Friendly Giant with a clump of my hair in his hands.  Wrestling for hours over the damn remote.  Arguing over the green glass.  Fighting over the green glass.  Holding a finger just an inch away from the other person. Swearing I would break that finger if it wasn’t removed.  Walking into my room to find the Great Beheading Barbie Massacre of ’89.  Swearing unholy revenge on behalf of those Barbies and Skippers.  Trying to make the others talk during the Quiet Game.  Trying to mime that my brothers were cheating on the Quiet Game.  Complaining about being near each other in the car.  “His leg is touching mine!”  “Her hair is touching me!”  “He’s over the line on my side!”   The lecture we all received about how wrong it was to punch or kick someone in the groin; and our mother telling us she wanted grandchildren one day.  Breaking into a clean-underwear fight during our chore of folding the underwear.  (Much like a snowball fight but with underwear)  The Face asking if I wanted to see time fly as he threw my glow-in-the-dark watch across the room.  Learning that heads bounce off dry wall.  Telling the Friendly Giant if he didn’t get in the pool and play with us the vulture would get him.  Ferocious fights during Shark games or Water Polo.  Screaming s/he is cheating!  Never finishing a game of Monopoly because someone always stole from the bank and we end up throwing pieces and money at each other.  Fighting over video games.  Tons of cut-downs.  Tons of name calling.  Tons of pulling faces.  Tons of tattling.  Tons of pushing, hitting, kicking, shoving, scratching, and pulling hair.

Me: Yeah, we did.

My Mom:  You’re obviously misremembering.

Me: One of us is.

Spelling and Eating

There is only one casserole I will eat.  Sour Cream and Chicken Enchilada Casserole.  I adore the stuff.  Apparently so does my baby brother because he asked for it for his birthday dinner.  (I guess when you always eat out, a home-cooked meal is a treat, and I’m just the opposite.) 

Saturday we all gathered to have dinner in honor of my brother’s 29th birthday.  I looked over mid-meal to Aidan who sat next to me.  My little vegetarian (weird for a meat-eating family, right?) was digging into the casserole.  It was almost gone.  I made eye contact with my mom and, in a discreet manner, pointed to Aidan.

My mom: I know.  I’ve been watching him eat.  I can’t believe me.

Me: I know, right?  (giggle)  No one tell him there’s M-E-A-T in it.

Aidan: I eat the chicken!

Oh God. 

Please Lord, in Your infinite mercy, let that be a fluke.

Me: (sound normal; don’t panic; it was a fluke; it was a fluke.)  Is it good?

Aidan: WAY!  I like chicken!  I eat chicken now!

We’ll see next time I give your chicken strips.

Recap 5/10

1. Yes, it’s Friday night, and I’m off bedtime guard duty.  My computer has just been turned on.

2. What’s more annoying than having a paper due?  Having your child’s report due.  It’s tedious, boring, annoying, frustrating like before, but add in, you have to yell, nag, and sit there with nothing to do but yell and nag to get anything done.

3. Evan is in the second grade, and his report had to be 7 paragraphs.  Handwritten.  With a reference page.  Plus a neat and creative, handwritten poster.  On Louisiana.  It’s done.  Thank God.

4. The Mother’s Day craft was a FAIL.  And another FAIL.  And then when I figured something out and spent way too much money on craft supplies in case of more fails, I had to find time to have the kids do it and I to finish it.  And then I forgot I had no more envelopes.  Sorry MIL.

5. I need to find an occupational therapist for Sean.  That was supposed to be done two months ago.  Apparently, I left the ball in the wrong court.

6. Sean had a melt down because we weren’t throwing his birthday party on his birthday.  I’m raising a brat.  Then I learned he thought we weren’t celebrating his birthday at all, and he would have to wait several days for a celebration.  Oh, that’s much different.  I’m raising a kindergartener about to turn 6.

7. I left my room in jeans and a bra to make sure everyone was following the morning routine.  Aidan demanded that I get a shirt on and then went into my room to get me one.  He actually pulled one out of the drawer and handed it to me.  I’m raising a prude or one of the fashion police.

8. I went dress shopping with my mom.  She was on her best behavior.  I have two new dresses.  We went to the fabric store and bought patterns and fabric.  She commented on my style choices.  She’s slightly on the Western trend.  And I’m vintage ’50′s-’60′s.

9. So lately I’ve been lost in my head, playing with storylines and characters.  My work is being pushed back, and my sleep is being neglected.  I had this problem in high school, not college, which is weird be- OH!  I was writing in college and getting all that stuff out of my head.  So I’m working on a story.  My work is being pushed back less.  Sort of.

10. Today I finally made perfect strawberry jam.  I wish I knew what I did differently.

The 5. I had two days when I hit all five.  So that’s better.  I did a lot more crafts this week and more writing.  Reading blogs and eating apples is still lagging.  But at least I have a checklist hanging somewhere that I see it first thing.  Yea.

Family Rules

Have you seen those family rule posters?  They’re cute and sweet, but I find them tooth-ache-sweet.  A rule to love one another?  A rule about giving hugs?  A rule to say “I love you?”  A rule to “dream big?”  Please.  How annoying.  Or the ones that are against my beliefs.  A rule to “obey” your parents?  I’m sorry; my kids aren’t dogs.  I don’t want to teach them obedience; I want to teach them respect.  A rule to pray?  We do family prayers before dinner and bedtime, but I would never make it a rule.  It seems very stifling.

I wanted real rules.  I wanted something I could use.  I wanted something that would reflect my parenting philosophy. I wanted rules I could stand by and insist on.

When you can’t find what you want, then it’s time to make it.

Our Family Rules.

First I had to figure out what kind of morals I wanted my boys to have, what kind of men did I want them to be.  I needed simple rules, just a few.  I settled on two.  Respect Others.  Respect Things.  But I perceived a lot of loop holes in there, so I decided I had to clarify my point.  I wrote how to follow those rules. 

When I wrote my rules, I wrote them in the negative.  (No hitting; no name calling.)  Then I remembered how people react better to positives, so I rewrote the whole thing.  At the time, it was “House Rules,” and my mom pointed out that I wanted those rules to apply outside the house.  The rules became “Family Rules.”  Once I was done with that, I passed it around to people whose opinion I trusted to get feedback.  I finally mapped out the rules on Word.

Since I was too cheap to buy two different types of stencils, I printed out the main two rules and the title and then covered the back with chalk so I could trace the words, leaving a chalk outline to follow.  Everything worked well, but it took a while.  I like how it came out.

After much debate, I ended up hanging the rules above the time out chair.  Whenever the boys misbehaved, I would ask them if the action fit the rules.  Are you being respectful?  Was that kind?  Were you understanding?  Did you put up your toys?

I’m not sure if this will work, but I figured it was worth a shot.

Tale of Two Days

Saturday was awesome.

It started off rough.  At 6am, Aidan was screaming “MOMMY, JUICE!” from the bottom of the stairs over and over.  Each word was pushed into my brain like a knife.  Because I’m a parent, I have learned that I only care about peace, so I marched downstairs, got Aidan his juice out of the fridge, and returned to my bedroom to pop some pain meds and try to sleep a little bit longer.

30 minutes later, my nightmare was interrupted by “MOMMY, ROCKET!” being chanted/yelled at the bottom of the stairs by Aidan.  What the f- is he talking about?  What rocket?  OH!  THAT rocket.

I stomped back down stairs and hunted down the rogue rocket from the night before.  The other two boys gave me a “Hi, Mommy” that only two morning people can give.  I found the rocket and returned upstairs.  I took migraine medicine and went back to bed.  I probably wasn’t going to fall asleep soon.  So I got up.

After texting with a friend for a while and trying to come up with a breakfast idea, I finally decided on French toast.  Because we had homemade cinnamon bread and old hot dog buns.  And because it was May Fourth and I own Star Wars inspired sandwich cutters.  So I made two X-Wing Star Fighter and a Tie Fighter.

About this time, I realized that I have to break my no-caffiene-before-lunch rule.  I cracked open an energy drink.  I wondered if I’m going to die from horrible disease caused by caffeine.  But let me quote my baby brother.  “We’re all going to die from cancer any ways.  We might as well live a little.  (as in: “Mom is going to kill you when she finds out you’re still nuking stuff in butter tubs.”  “Fae, we’re all going to die from cancer in any ways; we might as well live a little; I’m dangerous like that.”  Good point.  Why don’t I just throw out my sunscreen and hats?)

The boys had already decided they wanted to go to Lego Club instead of the zoo.  I had a carrot to get them to move and get dressed and get chores done.  Never over look a carrot!  We had two hours, which means nothing at all with my boys.  But for normal people, that is plenty of time to get dressed and do a few chores.  Given the options, the boys chose getting ready for the day first.

I decided it was a picture day, which means I take random pictures of things throughout the day and send them to annoy a special person.  Like “This is breakfast!”  “Yes, I’m drinking an energy drink at 8am!”  “Look; I’m out of vanilla.”  “This is the underwear I’m going to wear.”  Scratch that.  I don’t think I sent that one.

The boys got dressed and did their chores.  Mostly.  We had to clean up the family room for Evan to vacuum the rugs.  I was able to get dressed and exercise.  We made it to Lego Club 5 minutes late, which is fine because it lasts 90 minutes, but that also means I wasn’t able to find out the price of plastic kiddie pools at the hardware store.

Lego Club was great.  I took tons of pictures of the boys building things and posted them on Facebook.  Aidan got bored and took tons of pictures of me, which I did not post on Facebook.  Near the end, Evan and Sean teamed up with two other boys to compete with another group of four boys to build the tallest tower with those huge toddler Legos.  It was awesome to watch them work as teams.  When Lego Club ended, the teams knocked over their towers and raced to help clean up. 

Before we left the library, we checked out Sean’s art piece from school and looked at a few books.  We left with Lego books and a bunch of books of mythology and fairy tales.  Evan was disappointed that all the Viking mythology books were checked out.

We met my parents and the Friendly Giant for lunch at a new burger joint.  Burgers and custard for everyone.  Then Aidan fell asleep on the way home.

Then it was homework time.  After a little bit of whining and complaining, Evan listened to me explain the importance of an introductory paragraph and a conclusion paragraph.  We worked together on it after I told him, “No, I’m not doing it for you; I’ve already written several state reports when I was a kid.”  Sean sat down and did his homework, insisting that drawing a dragon for his favorite character was what his teachers wanted.  “Draw something that lives on Earth.”  “They do live on Earth.”  “Draw something that is in a zoo.”  “Some zoos have dragons.  Mommy, dragons are real.”  Fine.  He has the rest of his life to not believe in dragons.  Not that I stopped.  So I asked him to draw his second favorite animal, which was a king cobra.  Then he worked on his teacher appreciation gifts.

By the time Aidan was awake, homework was done, and we got ready to go to my parents’ house to go swimming.  Only I forgot this was the first swim of the year, so the bag wasn’t packed with swimsuits, sunscreen, and other random, needful things.  The boys were excited to wear their new bathing suits, and I learned that Aidan’s hand-me-down was just not going to work.  As soon as the cover was off, the boys were in, and I climbed in after them- and dear god, it’s cold.  Maybe more like too cool.  But still colder than I thought I would be.  After suffering for five minutes, I decided to f- it and dove in to swim a few laps to get warm.  God, I missed swimming.

The Friendly Giant showed back up.  It’s always a great day when my baby brother shows up to go swimming with the boys.  He’s a giant play ground and diving board and water fountain all rolled into one.  I did kick the boys out when their lips turned blue and they began to chatter.  “I’mmmmm no-no-not c-c-c-cold.”  Right.  As my dad pointed out, “Look at naked Aidan; he’s got blue balls.”  And the crowd boo-ed.

Then I decided to be an amazingly awesome mom in the eyes of the boys.  We picked up McDonald’s and had a picnic lunch watching Star Wars: New Hope.  Because it was May 4th.  Because Sean said, “We should watch the fourth one because it’s May fourth.  Fourth.  Get it?”

We ended the day with bedtime and a small bedtime rebellion.  And it was awesome.

Unlike Sunday.

When my hair was a chaotic mess from swimming the day before.  WhenI got us to church 15 minutes early.  When I learned I lost my wallet when I went to pay for our food at the bakery.  When I was so super glad my wallet was back at church under the pew.  When that whole bakery-tear apart purse and car-drive to the church- go back to the bakery fiasco took WAY TOO LONG.  When I left the boys to their own devices for 30 minutes, giving them enough time to dump out ALL OF THE LEGOS and ALL OF THE IMAGINATRIX toys and a large container of toys.  When I withheld lunch because they refused to clean.  When it took 45 minutes to clean up the mess.  When I argued with Evan because he refused to finish his chose.  When my brilliant mother’s day gift idea failed miserably.  When I had tons of salt dough and no idea what to do with it.  When Sean argued, whined, and complained about doing homework.  When Evan took all damn afternoon to copy his state report in nice handwriting without grammar and spelling errors.  When we were running late due to the report so I decided to make Evan take it to my parents’ house.  When I learned Evan didn’t grab any blank paper.  When I had to run home for blank paper.  When I had to clean up the car from the tearing apart earlier.  When I couldn’t figure out a dinner menu.  When we stayed slightly too late at my parents’ house.  When the boys tried to refuse a bath.  When they decided to drench the bathroom.  When they decided they wanted to go to bed naked.  When the older boys wrestled and messed with each other instead of going to bed.  When Aidan had to keep getting out of bed to get books for an hour.  When poor Evan woke up with diarrhea and announced he had a poop accident in the bathroom.  When I realized I was out of bread.  When I was no longer manic and was tired and wanted to go to bed but I had homework and housework to do.

Sunday was less than awesome.