baby talk

"I not like boogy monster. I tell him away!"

"He not get my toes, my knees, my eyes, my owie, my finger..."

I didn't even know he knew that much anatomy. Or that he'd heard about the boogey man. (At least he didn't seem afraid of him - probably because he can always just "tell him away!")

I'd like that super power. I could tell away dishes, dirty laundry, irritating people, slow drivers and bills.

you know it's been a rough week when...

- you just realized you haven't showered in three days.
- you can't win at Solitaire, even when you cheat.
- you're so desperate for chocolate, you sneak chocolate chips from the pantry.
- the kids are complaining about having no clean socks or underwear.
- every time you sit on the toilet seat, it's wet.
- a pile of 2x4's falls on your leg, leaving you with a bruise the size of a softball.
- you try to do a job that would take your brother an hour and it takes you all day.
- floss? what's that?
- you forget to pay the utility bill and the phone bill.
- you go over your cell phone minutes due to some unknown glitch that no one can explain to you.
- there is nothing in the house to make for supper, so you're forced to get creative with stewed tomatoes.
- you find a half-melted sucker in the bottom of your knitting bag stuck to a hat you just made for a baby gift.
- wherever you go, that's where the party's not at.
- the olympics are keeping you up way too late.
- the kids are getting you up way too early.
- the garden hasn't been watered in a week and a half and you really don't care.
- you realize that school's about to start and you haven't even begun buying supplies like pencils and glue.
- you think to yourself that the kids don't deserve pencils and glue when they lose everything anyway.
- boy #4 has diarrhea.
- boy #4 just ate cat food.
- boy #3 was caught licking dirt off his bike.
- you go to menard's covered in sawdust and you really don't care.
- you lost your discover card, somewhere in the house.
- then you lost your keys.
- you still have to can tomatoes, make cucumber relish, finish shower walls, paint a piece of trim, make two baby gifts, make two meals for new mothers, paint a vanity, glaze some closet walls - all by saturday.
- you realize that hubby is going on a four-wheeling trip sunday and guess who gets to plan the meals/pack the food.
- you need a vacation, but don't even know where you'd like to go.
- you really need a sauna.

Is that enough? :)

in the wash today...

my swimsuit stuck to the velcro on someone's swim trunks, which made for a really attractive rough patch.

mixed feelings

Today I should be holding a newborn baby boy.

Part of me wants to wail about that not happening. And the sense of loss is a bit more overwhelming than I anticipated. Waves of grief have swept over me all day and it's probably why I didn't crawl out of bed until 10 a.m. It's also why I don't think I'll do anything today, just because I can.

Tragedy sucks. Grief sucks. Sometimes life just plain sucks.

But, another part of me is somewhat relieved not to have another baby right now. I can't imagine having a newborn in a house that still doesn't have an addition done. The selfish side of me is grateful that I was able to continue painting for all these months, earning more money than I have in 10 years and being able to contribute to the funding of the addition. The selfish side of me is also grateful that I'll still have a craft room once this project is complete - a place to store my yarn, my serger and whatever other creative schemes I line up.

The lazy side of me is happy I don't have to be up twice a night for feedings. The vain side of me is thrilled I don't have 25 pounds to lose. The self-indulgent side of me is glad I don't have to watch what I eat.

But the mom in me is still sad about missing out on all that - giving up sleep, Dr. Pepper, money and my appearance would have still been worth it to smell a newborn, to nurse a newborn and to share a baby with my boys.

Makes me think of Mother Goose - "if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride."

I can't change anything, nor do I want my life changed. Either way is sad.

a little dirt never hurt

This is why I need a laundry service, or at the very least a new washer and dryer.



This is also why I shouldn't get distracted by things like facebook and blogs. Little boys in pajamas escape the house way too easily around here.

I have never understood the fascination with mud puddles, but every one of my kids has gone through it. You'd think the ooze between their toes would be enough to prevent anyone from hopping around, but nope...just adds to the thrill I guess.

This child took the whole puddle and mud thing one step further (of course) by putting his head into the mud and then licking his lips as the dirty water dripped down his face. I shouldn't be surprised they have good immune systems.

A little dirt never hurt...anything but the washing machine and my mental health.

body parts

Disclaimer: If you will be offended by talk about penises, please don't read any further. I thought the little blurbs out of #4's mouth were funny, but you may not. This is your only warning.

One of the benefits of living in the country is the privacy. This is especially a bonus for boys, who can quickly empty their bladders outdoors, keeping playtime uninterrupted by having to do time consuming things like take their shoes off and climb stairs.

It is one of the things that my husband rejoices in - that he can pee freely and privately outdoors. (Believe me this is not something I understand.) But, I have to admit the idea has its benefits for me as well. I don't have to retie tennis shoes and the toilet lid stays much drier.

So, today after watching Dad and big brother, our two-year-old decided it was time that he learned how to pee outside too. Except that he couldn't quite get the little thing out of his diaper. Dad tried to help him a bit, by taking the pants and diaper came halfway down and giving him plenty of space.

He was about to walk away because he figured it would take awhile for the actual peeing to start, but stopped when he heard this:

"Dad, look! My pee pee muscle!"

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I don't understand the male anatomy (nor do I really care to) but apparently having to pee really bad makes a certain body part increase in size. When this happens, it makes it rather difficult to potty train a two-year-old who wants to stand up to pee like all the other males in the family.

Being that he's not there yet and still wearing diapers, we've encountered a bit of a problem when this phenomenon happens. I will tell him to pull his diaper back on and he'll respond with: "See Mom - pee pee don't fit!"

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All of my boys have at some point wondered about the differences between me and them. One asked me once if I peed from my butt hole (since I don't have a pee pee). One thought I had two butts. This child asked: "When you gwow pee pee, Mom?"

bugs

from 3/26/07 (I found this written on the back of an envelope on my desk)

Boy #3 at age 3: "Dad, there's a box elder bug in my glass!"
"Okay," comes Dad's reply.
He then goes into the kitchen and takes a drink.
"I thought you said there was a bug in your glass!" Dad exclaimed.
"There is, but I didn't drink him. He's on the other side of the glass!"

Only a boy would do that.

peanut butter concentration

Boy #1 isn't so sure that his younger brothers are capable of doing anything. Because he has always been the trail blazer, he is simply used to doing everything and tends to get a bit conceited about his abilities versus his brothers.

We realized we were relying too much on him and had to have a few teaching lessons with Boy #2 to show him how to put DVDs going, wash dishes in HOT water, sweep dirt into a dustpan and fold jeans, none of which he was excited to do, except the dishes.

With Boy #3, he wants to do everything, even though he doesn't quite know how or isn't quite able to. At five, he is NOT willing to take any guff from older brothers about what he can or can't do. (I think he got a stubborn gene from both Mom and Dad.)

It has always been #1's job to make the sandwiches for lunch. I buy a natural brand of peanut butter that is a bit more goopy and runny than Jif, so ability really matters in this chore. (Cleaning peanut butter drips off the table, floor and bench just isn't much fun.)

This doesn't sit well with #3, who wants to do everything himself about three years too early. He finally wore me down yesterday with his incessant whining - I gave in and let him make his own sandwich. (Apparently older brother has cooties or something.)

To his credit, he was pretty careful, but his brothers were hecklers from the get-go, insisting that he was going to get peanut butter all over everything.

His response was classic from Number Three: "I'm five! I know how to concentrate!"

Slow and steady wins the race in peanut butter sandwiches and putting older brothers in their place.

lessons from camp

Every year, I learn something at camp. This year, I thought I’d share some of the lessons with you.

What we need
A young boy was sniffling in the breakfast line in front of me. I asked him what was wrong and he sobbed, “I accidentally told my sister to shut up and now she won’t forgive me!”

I stifled a chuckle and said, “You know, sometimes you can only control what you do – you can’t control what other people do,” in an attempt to console him. “The important thing is that you said you were sorry and you asked for forgiveness.” I squeezed his shoulder a bit and hoped it helped. (Then I caught the sister in front of him making faces at him.) Ah, yes sibling rivalry. But, the greater lesson – not everyone will always do what we want or what we need them to do.

Carpet ball
You can never play enough carpet ball when you’re seven and you’re beating everyone else, even kids six years your senior. The simple game enthralls young kids and elates their parents. (Mainly because they never have to worry about where their seven-year-olds are during free time – carpet ball has captured them.) Our boys have begged and begged Dad to make them a carpet ball table, but the answer has always been no. (Mainly because carpet ball will no longer be a novelty at camp if they had one at home – and no longer a great babysitter.) Praise God he gives us wisdom where we could most lack it – saying no to our kids.

Brotherly love
One boy picks on another boy. Older brother pops the picker-oner. There are punches and tears, talks with parents and with pastors. A few hours later the two boys are best buds again, proving that brotherly love is possible, even after a fight.

Dancing with Jesus
So you think you can dance? A word picture was told at camp about you and Jesus walking down the road. Jesus’ footprints are steady and consistent, while yours are zigzags, starts and stops, circles...but gradually they come more in line with His. Then, your footprints, instead of walking next to His, are walking in His steps. This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back and seems worse then ever. More zigzags. Deep gashes in the sand. A mess. You are shocked. You understand the first footprints to be your walking as a new Christian. You realize the second footprints was your learning to walk with God and gradually walking in His steps. But you can’t understand the regression and the seemingly worse footprints, until Jesus tells you, “That was when we danced.”

It really isn’t about what we’re doing or how we’re doing it, but with WHOM we’re doing it and for WHOM we’re doing it. Even if dancing’s not your thing – raise those hands, tap those feet and praise God anyway – who cares who’s watching! The Lord of the dance is leading.

Buddy system
Everyone needs a buddy once in awhile. Unless you’re doing something dangerous like swimming at camp, then you need a buddy just to get in. Life should be a little more like that - if we had a “buddy” alongside us for every potentially hazardous situation, my guess is we simply wouldn’t get into as much trouble. Someone would be there to point out the deep water or a big wave or even a thunderstorm. And, if we do get into trouble, we’d have someone there to throw us a life line. If that person is truly a buddy, they won’t think any less of us for screwing up. They’d still love us and help us up. We need more buddies.

Laughter is good medicine
People don’t always get my sense of humor. Sometimes that bothers me, sometimes it doesn’t. But, when you can hang out with a few people who instantly “get” you and then get you back – oh, that’s a little slice of heaven for me. I love to hear funny stories, funny jokes and to even be the brunt of a little ribbing. I’ll just warn you in advance that I’ll give it back. It’s no accident that smiles light up rooms and merry hearts are good medicine. A few good jokes are quite practical, pun intended.

After midnight
A relative of mine used to always say, “Nothing good happens after midnight.” I would propose, however that everything’s funnier after midnight. Late night get-togethers in the dining hall is often the best time to get to know other adult campers – and experience their humor and some great snacks. Getting bruised fingers from playing spoons is worth every throb simply due to good company and friendly competition.

Coffee
Life without coffee is not great. Enough said.

Fellowship
God is good. And all the time. Camp accentuates that and reminds you that fellowship is important, needed and in Pastor Gary’s words: “Instructed.” I find that many people who don’t participate in some sort of churchy fellowship tend to get cynical and lack a certain amount of joy that only comes from fellowship. (This is not to say that fellowship doesn’t sometimes make you want to pull your hair out.) But overall, we need each other. We need to have koinonia with people whom we can trust, people we understand and who understand us and people who care about us. Life is hard enough, but I can’t imagine getting through the tough stuff without the fellowship and love of God’s people.

Opposites attract?
About a half hour after we arrived home from camp, I plopped on the couch, thinking to myself, “This stinks. We should go somewhere tonight.” I found myself feeling a bit depressed that camp was over. Hubby on the other hand, gave a sigh of relief and confessed, “I really am an introvert. It’s so great to be home!”

I was almost shocked that he would be relieved about it - we were only gone two days! “How can we be so different?” I wondered. He tells me I recharge my batteries by doing things with people (away from home) and he recharges his by staying home (away from people).

Perhaps the good is that if our children are one way or the other, at least one of us will be able to understand them, or want to stay home with them. It probably won’t be me.