Our school has a Grandparents Day celebration each year. It's a day when cute little silver haired people practically get run down in the parking lot by Mom's in sweatpants, holding coffee mugs and driving monstrous SUV's who are trying to get their kid dropped at the curb before the last bell rings. The sweet little silver haired Grandparents never use the crosswalk. They are just slowly and randomly moving through the parking lot creating quite the obstacle course for the frazzled moms during morning carpool. If no Grandparents are available for the students, they may invite a "special person" to attend the festivities. I was that "special person" this year, and since Silas basically has to go wherever I go when he's not in Pre-K, he had to come along.
Greyson had a chair next to his desk for me, and Silas had to stand. There was hardly any room to move with all the students and their Grandparents. We were packed like sardines in the middle of the classroom. Our first activity was to interview each other. About three questions in, I heard something hit the floor and the little girl behind us yell, "Oh no!" I turned to see that Silas has knocked over her cricket habitat and there were leaves, sticks, and hopping crickets all over the floor. The girl's Grandma had bent over to try and catch one and at that exact moment I backed my chair into her head. She yelled, "Ouch!" and was rubbing her head with one hand while trying to catch a cricket with another. I am leaning precariously over my chair trying to retrieve grass, leaves, and the container while apologizing to the poor Grandma with the headache. Greyson yelled, "HE'S ON YOUR SHOE!!" I had to freeze in my rather odd position in the chair so Greyson could get it off my shoe, when I looked up into another Grandma's face. She was looking down at me with her hand over her mouth and laughing hysterically with tears in her eyes. The Grandma with the throbbing head was trying to scoop up a cricket using the container and the lid and pinched its leg off in the process. We finally got all the crickets off the floor and back into the habitat while Silas is standing in the midst of all the chaos crying, shaking his head and saying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Yes it's true. We cause a scene most every place we go. We can't just do things unnoticed. Calamity usually follows, and we either entertain or annoy the people around us. Believe you me, those Grandparents will not soon forget this Grandparents Day at Firm Foundation Christian School.
After we finished our interview, cupcakes, and self-portraits, Silas and I helped clean up our mess, hugged Greyson good-bye, apologized AGAIN to the Grandma with the goose egg on her head, and left for home. It was a very quiet drive all the way to the house, and after I pulled into the garage and went to swing my leg out of the car, lo and behold, there was a cricket on my knee!! That poor little thing was so desperate for freedom that he caught a hold of the mother of the boy who set him free. Little did that cricket know that with an insect project in the works for Greyson, I must not let him go. I sat there wondering how I could capture him when I noticed a baggie on the passenger seat with a grasshopper in it that Greyson had caught the previous day at school. Yes, only I would have a baggie with a bug in it on my front seat. Now that poor little cricket who was yearning to be free will soon be pinned to a poster board with about 19 other insects.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The End of Babyhood
Today I took my baby to Pre-K. My last little boy headed off to new adventures in this big world and left his Mommy crying at the classroom door. Silas has been my companion while the other boys were in school, he's been my little helper, my buddy, my cuddle bug, and my "baby" for the past 5 years. He is the Mama's Boy of the family. Daddy may brush his teeth, but only Mommy can tuck him in. Only Mommy can bandage his scrapes and hold him when he hurts. He tells me daily that I am beautiful, pretty, and sweet. Just yesterday he said, "I love you to infinity google and back. And you can't get more than that!"
I walked into my home this afternoon and the silence was literally deafening. I stood for a long time in the living room just letting the tears fall. I was unsure of what to do with myself. No one is here to ask for a snack, or tell me that his brother is bothering him. Today was the first time in nine years that I stood alone in my home. Truly... the first! I've had little boys attached to my person and telling me stories, telling on each other, asking for help, etc... for nine years. I honestly don't know what to do with myself. I feel so empty and sad today. Friends tell me that I will start loving the alone time and I'll be amazed at how much can be accomplished while the boys are away. I can't say that I really believe that yet, not today anyway. For now I'm just ready for 3:00 when I can get in the car and pick up those loud, rowdy, bundles of sweetness from school. I've never been one to wish for the day that preschool would start, or send my little ones to school when they were just toddlers so I could have some time to myself. I have waited, with each boy, until the bitter end. Until I absolutely had to let go, and that is breaking my heart today as I sit in my quiet house. I love watching them grow and mature, yet it's so painful too. It's just going by at lightning speed and I wish I could just make it all slow down. Just for a while, so I could hold on to these days.
Babyhood is gone forever in the Cunningham household. I wasn't ready for this day to come. It arrived much to quickly for me. It seems as though I was just holding Silas as an infant and singing to him as I rocked him each night. He would sing along, making sweet little cooing noises even as young as six months old. I remember holding him sometimes long after he had fallen asleep, and breaking all those rules in the "getting your newborn to sleep" books because I knew he was my last baby and time would go by way too fast. Here it is, five years later and our lives are changing, his and mine. I'm trying hard to let go of the past and look forward to seeing what God has planned for our futures, and Silas is embracing Big Boyhood, while making sure that his Mommy is still close by just in case he needs her. What an indescribable gift I have been given. Three precious faced little boys to care for and love. I've seen every milestone and wiped every tear and given and received thousands of kisses, thanks to a husband who has worked so hard to make sure I am home with them. I am truly blessed beyond measure, and will be eternally grateful to God and my husband for this incredible journey through Babyhood.
I walked into my home this afternoon and the silence was literally deafening. I stood for a long time in the living room just letting the tears fall. I was unsure of what to do with myself. No one is here to ask for a snack, or tell me that his brother is bothering him. Today was the first time in nine years that I stood alone in my home. Truly... the first! I've had little boys attached to my person and telling me stories, telling on each other, asking for help, etc... for nine years. I honestly don't know what to do with myself. I feel so empty and sad today. Friends tell me that I will start loving the alone time and I'll be amazed at how much can be accomplished while the boys are away. I can't say that I really believe that yet, not today anyway. For now I'm just ready for 3:00 when I can get in the car and pick up those loud, rowdy, bundles of sweetness from school. I've never been one to wish for the day that preschool would start, or send my little ones to school when they were just toddlers so I could have some time to myself. I have waited, with each boy, until the bitter end. Until I absolutely had to let go, and that is breaking my heart today as I sit in my quiet house. I love watching them grow and mature, yet it's so painful too. It's just going by at lightning speed and I wish I could just make it all slow down. Just for a while, so I could hold on to these days.
Babyhood is gone forever in the Cunningham household. I wasn't ready for this day to come. It arrived much to quickly for me. It seems as though I was just holding Silas as an infant and singing to him as I rocked him each night. He would sing along, making sweet little cooing noises even as young as six months old. I remember holding him sometimes long after he had fallen asleep, and breaking all those rules in the "getting your newborn to sleep" books because I knew he was my last baby and time would go by way too fast. Here it is, five years later and our lives are changing, his and mine. I'm trying hard to let go of the past and look forward to seeing what God has planned for our futures, and Silas is embracing Big Boyhood, while making sure that his Mommy is still close by just in case he needs her. What an indescribable gift I have been given. Three precious faced little boys to care for and love. I've seen every milestone and wiped every tear and given and received thousands of kisses, thanks to a husband who has worked so hard to make sure I am home with them. I am truly blessed beyond measure, and will be eternally grateful to God and my husband for this incredible journey through Babyhood.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Words of Wisdom
My boys seem to do some serious thinking and pondering of life's mysteries when we are driving in the car. That is, when they aren't beating each other senseless and hurling insults at one another. There have been some great conversations, observations, and words of wisdom that have come from my young boys when we are trapped in a car without distractions. One of my favorites came from Zane after a long hard day of Kindergarten. He sits in the cargo seat in the very back of the car and I often look at his sweet little face as he peers out the window. I can just see the wheels turning as he ponders life and other mysteries. The car was pretty much silent on this particular day, when out of the blue Zane says, "Mom? Girls talk too much." He paused for a few seconds, then added, "and Mom? Sometimes you talk too much too. I wish you wouldn't talk so much." He's learning a life lesson early. Yes, my dear sweet son, girls do talk too much and you will have to deal with it your whole life.
When Greyson was five, we were driving on the freeway when I noticed that he was staring out the window for a long time. He finally asked, "Mom? How do babies come out of the Mommy's?" I told him that babies lived in a special place in the Mommy called a womb, and when the baby gets too big to fit, he or she comes out of the Mommy's privates. He stared out the window for a little while then said, "Doesn't that hurt?" "Yes, it does hurt. But there are doctors and nurses there to help, and after a while the pain goes away, but the Mommy and Daddy have a perfectly sweet little baby, so it's worth it." More staring out the window, then Greyson heaved a big sigh of relief and summed up what every man on earth thinks, when he said, "Boy! I'm glad I'm not a girl!"
Zane is starting to realize there is a world out there that is different than what goes on in our home. On the way home from school one day he said, "Mom... not everyone is married." "No, there are lots of people that haven't found someone to marry yet." He couldn't understand how someone could actually live alone. "But that would be so boring to live all by yourself." He followed that up by saying, "Boy, I'm glad we have a wife!"
We drove by a large office building one day and Greyson threw out a comment about what it would be like if that was our home. I said it would be way too big to keep clean. He said, "Then we would just get a maid... oh wait a minute... you're the maid Mom!" Apparently that is how I'm perceived. The one who is always doing dishes, laundry, and cleaning.
Our neighbors are going through a divorce and their young daughter came over and told the boys "My parents are divorced." Zane had no idea what she was talking about, so we had to explain it to him. Bless his sweet little heart, he just could not get his head around the idea that a Mom and Dad splitting up was even an option. His heart really went out to this little girl, and for weeks he continued to talk about it. We would reassure him that Daddy and I are together for life and he doesn't need to worry about that in our family. He can't seem to remember the word 'divorced', and one day in the car, out of the blue he said, "Mom... I'm so glad you and Daddy aren't departed." It took me a minute, then I knew.. he was still thinking of his little friend across the street who was moving away because of the divorce, not the death of both of his parents.
Silas and I were cuddling up one afternoon while the older two were at school, when he said, "Wet's pway I spy! I spy wiff my wittle eye something pretty.... YOU!" Talk about melting my heart! That boy knows how to get on my good side. He routinely calls me, "Pretty, sweet, boo-tiful Mama." He is usually covering up for some kind of mess he knows I'll find later. It melts my heart anyway and he knows it.
Greyson recently had a fever and a headache for two days. As I was giving him medicine, he looked up at me with his sad, little watery eyes and said, "Thank you for taking care of me." It was so heartfelt with genuine gratefulness in his voice and it meant the world to me.
I often get wrapped up in the "maid" part of my job, the stresses and trials of raising three little boys, but then they will say something so simple, so sweet, and remind me of what a truly wonderful family I am a part of. And that being a mom to these three boys is really what matters in my life. To care for them when they are sick, play, read, spend time loving them. The dishes will be there tomorrow... the laundry will get folded eventually, but my boys will only be young for a little while. I am very blessed.
When Greyson was five, we were driving on the freeway when I noticed that he was staring out the window for a long time. He finally asked, "Mom? How do babies come out of the Mommy's?" I told him that babies lived in a special place in the Mommy called a womb, and when the baby gets too big to fit, he or she comes out of the Mommy's privates. He stared out the window for a little while then said, "Doesn't that hurt?" "Yes, it does hurt. But there are doctors and nurses there to help, and after a while the pain goes away, but the Mommy and Daddy have a perfectly sweet little baby, so it's worth it." More staring out the window, then Greyson heaved a big sigh of relief and summed up what every man on earth thinks, when he said, "Boy! I'm glad I'm not a girl!"
Zane is starting to realize there is a world out there that is different than what goes on in our home. On the way home from school one day he said, "Mom... not everyone is married." "No, there are lots of people that haven't found someone to marry yet." He couldn't understand how someone could actually live alone. "But that would be so boring to live all by yourself." He followed that up by saying, "Boy, I'm glad we have a wife!"
We drove by a large office building one day and Greyson threw out a comment about what it would be like if that was our home. I said it would be way too big to keep clean. He said, "Then we would just get a maid... oh wait a minute... you're the maid Mom!" Apparently that is how I'm perceived. The one who is always doing dishes, laundry, and cleaning.
Our neighbors are going through a divorce and their young daughter came over and told the boys "My parents are divorced." Zane had no idea what she was talking about, so we had to explain it to him. Bless his sweet little heart, he just could not get his head around the idea that a Mom and Dad splitting up was even an option. His heart really went out to this little girl, and for weeks he continued to talk about it. We would reassure him that Daddy and I are together for life and he doesn't need to worry about that in our family. He can't seem to remember the word 'divorced', and one day in the car, out of the blue he said, "Mom... I'm so glad you and Daddy aren't departed." It took me a minute, then I knew.. he was still thinking of his little friend across the street who was moving away because of the divorce, not the death of both of his parents.
Silas and I were cuddling up one afternoon while the older two were at school, when he said, "Wet's pway I spy! I spy wiff my wittle eye something pretty.... YOU!" Talk about melting my heart! That boy knows how to get on my good side. He routinely calls me, "Pretty, sweet, boo-tiful Mama." He is usually covering up for some kind of mess he knows I'll find later. It melts my heart anyway and he knows it.
Greyson recently had a fever and a headache for two days. As I was giving him medicine, he looked up at me with his sad, little watery eyes and said, "Thank you for taking care of me." It was so heartfelt with genuine gratefulness in his voice and it meant the world to me.
I often get wrapped up in the "maid" part of my job, the stresses and trials of raising three little boys, but then they will say something so simple, so sweet, and remind me of what a truly wonderful family I am a part of. And that being a mom to these three boys is really what matters in my life. To care for them when they are sick, play, read, spend time loving them. The dishes will be there tomorrow... the laundry will get folded eventually, but my boys will only be young for a little while. I am very blessed.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Insults and "Love Taps"
I have always told people that if there was a camera in my car during the drive to school and back, I would have my own reality show on TLC. It never fails.. every day... twice a day... we get in the car to drive to school and all of a sudden my car becomes The Ultimate Fighting Death Match Arena hurling down the street at 50 miles per hour. A perfectly harmless SUV transforms into a capsule of slaps, scratches, pinches and insults being hurled at each other. I've discovered over the years that it usually starts with our youngest, Silas. It began when he was just a wee child of age two. We had just turned him around to be front facing in his car seat with an older brother on each side. As I was driving one day, I heard the older two crying, screaming, and yelling. I looked in my rear view mirror to see a big smile on Silas's face as he stared straight ahead through the front windshield. His arms had suddenly turned into helicopter type propellers as he was slapping the daylights out of each brother on his left and on his right. The older boys were smashing themselves into the car doors trying to get as far away as possible, while Silas looked straight head, helicopter arms swirling, scratching and slapping his brothers, with a look of triumph and glorious power on his face. Since that day, Silas has always felt the need to get the party started, so to speak, when he feels like the car ride needs a little spice.
I cannot recall one car trip that was silent and peaceful. There seems to always be an altercation. In fact, I have grown so weary of it that in my desperate attempt to get them to stop I have made up a song that I sing loudly and obnoxiously for them to hear over their fighting. It goes a little something like this, "It's so fun to beat up your brother.... It's so fun to pinch and poke and fight! It's so fun to beat up your brother... it's so fun to fight with all your might... YEE-HAW!" It works every time. They stop fighting and turn their attention to me... "Stop singing that Mom"! and "I don't wike (like) that song!" And one day, Zane laid this one on me, "I wish God made you not to sing!" Ahhh, the power of song. It's my secret weapon.
On a recent trip to school, it was quiet, children looking out the window at the scenery, when Silas felt the need to "get the party started". He reached over and slapped Greyson on the arm. A hard and stinging slap. Naturally Greyson yelled at him, and Silas responded with "Wove Tap!" (love tap). Yeah... I don't think so. Neither did Greyson. So the fighting started. And the insults. One of Silas's most commonly used insults is "you are a poo-poo stinky gutty!" (as in guts). We hear this one all the time. Here's how the fight went down on that particular 10 minute car ride to school:
The death slap from Silas to get things started... a yell from Greyson with a return "love tap" slap, "Stop it Greyson you poo-poo- stinky gutty!" Greyson replied "You're the stinky gutty!" Zane in the back yelling "Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight!" More hitting, slapping and pinching between Silas and Greyson until Zane came to Greyson's defense and reached over his seat to slap Silas. "Zane you're a stinky gutty!" "Stop it Silas" Then Silas threw in a new insult that he hadn't used before (thanks to the movie "Despicable Me"). He looked at Greyson and yelled "Zip it Happy Meal!" And there I am, at the wheel, about to go bonkers and started singing at the top of my lungs..... "It's so fun to beat up your brother...." I only got one line out before Silas yells, "Mom! You're giving me a headache!" What? What was that I just heard? I'm giving YOU a headache? I'm the one that has an IV of Excedrin in my arm 24/7 and I'm giving YOU a headache?!? Finally, the car ride is over. We pull up to the curb, let the two older ones out for school as I'm calling, "Love you punkins! Have a great day lovebugs! I'll miss you!" As we leave the school parking lot, Silas smiles and in a voice sweet as sugar.... "Mommy, can we go to Starbucks?"
I cannot recall one car trip that was silent and peaceful. There seems to always be an altercation. In fact, I have grown so weary of it that in my desperate attempt to get them to stop I have made up a song that I sing loudly and obnoxiously for them to hear over their fighting. It goes a little something like this, "It's so fun to beat up your brother.... It's so fun to pinch and poke and fight! It's so fun to beat up your brother... it's so fun to fight with all your might... YEE-HAW!" It works every time. They stop fighting and turn their attention to me... "Stop singing that Mom"! and "I don't wike (like) that song!" And one day, Zane laid this one on me, "I wish God made you not to sing!" Ahhh, the power of song. It's my secret weapon.
On a recent trip to school, it was quiet, children looking out the window at the scenery, when Silas felt the need to "get the party started". He reached over and slapped Greyson on the arm. A hard and stinging slap. Naturally Greyson yelled at him, and Silas responded with "Wove Tap!" (love tap). Yeah... I don't think so. Neither did Greyson. So the fighting started. And the insults. One of Silas's most commonly used insults is "you are a poo-poo stinky gutty!" (as in guts). We hear this one all the time. Here's how the fight went down on that particular 10 minute car ride to school:
The death slap from Silas to get things started... a yell from Greyson with a return "love tap" slap, "Stop it Greyson you poo-poo- stinky gutty!" Greyson replied "You're the stinky gutty!" Zane in the back yelling "Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight!" More hitting, slapping and pinching between Silas and Greyson until Zane came to Greyson's defense and reached over his seat to slap Silas. "Zane you're a stinky gutty!" "Stop it Silas" Then Silas threw in a new insult that he hadn't used before (thanks to the movie "Despicable Me"). He looked at Greyson and yelled "Zip it Happy Meal!" And there I am, at the wheel, about to go bonkers and started singing at the top of my lungs..... "It's so fun to beat up your brother...." I only got one line out before Silas yells, "Mom! You're giving me a headache!" What? What was that I just heard? I'm giving YOU a headache? I'm the one that has an IV of Excedrin in my arm 24/7 and I'm giving YOU a headache?!? Finally, the car ride is over. We pull up to the curb, let the two older ones out for school as I'm calling, "Love you punkins! Have a great day lovebugs! I'll miss you!" As we leave the school parking lot, Silas smiles and in a voice sweet as sugar.... "Mommy, can we go to Starbucks?"
Friday, January 28, 2011
Conceivable Memories
We are going way back for this post. About nine years to be exact. As part of my goal for this blog of recording events for my boys from their childhood, I thought that I might as well start from the beginning. The moment we found out we were having a baby, three times, three different stories.
Greyson's story begins with us waiting purposely for nine years before deciding we were ready to be parents. We didn't have to wait long. He made himself known the second month of "trying". I remember taking a test and leaving it in the bathroom for the full three minutes. Rod and I decided to look at it at the very same moment so it would be news to both of us at the same time. After our three minutes of eternity, we walked into the bathroom together with our eyes averted from the counter, looked at each other, counted to three, then looked at the little plastic stick. My eyes immediately filled with tears when the two lines appeared and started happy dancing. Rod looked a bit confused, although he was happy and laughing and asking, "what do the two lines mean again?" I shouted, "We're having a baby!!" We just hugged and cried and laughed. It felt like an out of body experience. That was THE defining moment of my life. I would never be the same again. I was going to be a Mommy and I was truly elated. We went out to lunch to celebrate. I remember sitting in the Z Tejas Grill in Highlands Ranch, CO and looking around at all the people going about their everyday lives not knowing my precious secret. There was a tiny, little bitty life inside me and only Rod and I knew. What an incredible feeling to know that we were bringing life into the world. After lunch we ran over to Babies R Us and each picked out a little outfit in green and white, went home and hung them in the closet of the nursery to be and started planning and dreaming.
Zane's story began when we knew we should get started on another baby since Greyson was two. Again, I got pregnant in the second month of "trying". I just knew I was born to be a Mommy and after the long wait to start a family, I didn't want to wait any longer to add another one. Same brand of test, same bathroom, and two lines again. This time Rod knew what it meant. In that moment I believe he saw dollar signs, college funds, etc... We had sweet little Greyson in on the results this time. He went into the bathroom and brought the stick to us. I just started happy crying and hugging Rod and Greyson. Greyson just watched all the commotion, not sure what it was about. We video taped him showing the stick to the camera and saying that we were having a baby. I was absolutely thrilled to be pregnant again. I just couldn't wait to meet the precious little life that was on his way.
Silas was an unexpected and wonderful surprise. We knew we wanted three children and we were going to do the "trying" thing when Zane reached two years. I went to my doctor for a checkup when Zane was nine months old. I scheduled it during Rod's lunch so that he could sit in the car with Greyson and Zane while I ran in for the appointment. The doctor asked if I was trying to get pregnant again since the nurse listed "no birth control" on the chart. I told her, "No. Why? Am I pregnant?" She said she didn't know, but she would run a test. I just told her there was no birth control listed because I was there to get some more. She left the room for a few minutes and came back carrying a baggie with a stick in it. Oh, I know those sticks! They usually have two lines. She held it up and said, "Congratulations! You're pregnant." I felt my head spinning and for a moment I thought I would pass out and fall right off that paper covered table. "What? Zane is only nine months old!" I sort of floated out to the receptionist. She asked me a question about another appointment and I remember telling her, "I don't even know my own name right now." I found Rod in the car reading the newspaper. He asked, "How did it go?" without looking up from what he was reading. I said, "Good. A little different than I expected." There was a long pause. He was still looking at the paper, so I finally said, "Uh... we're having another baby." The newspaper lowered slowly, he swung his head around to look at me and was speechless. I held up the little baggie with the stick with two lines, and repeated, "We're having another baby!" We both broke into laughter and really didn't know what to say. We were in disbelief, yet so happy that again, we would know the absolute joy of adding a little baby to our sweet family. I think it was in that moment that Rod thought, "Note to self, have the snip snip immediately after this one is born."
Greyson's story begins with us waiting purposely for nine years before deciding we were ready to be parents. We didn't have to wait long. He made himself known the second month of "trying". I remember taking a test and leaving it in the bathroom for the full three minutes. Rod and I decided to look at it at the very same moment so it would be news to both of us at the same time. After our three minutes of eternity, we walked into the bathroom together with our eyes averted from the counter, looked at each other, counted to three, then looked at the little plastic stick. My eyes immediately filled with tears when the two lines appeared and started happy dancing. Rod looked a bit confused, although he was happy and laughing and asking, "what do the two lines mean again?" I shouted, "We're having a baby!!" We just hugged and cried and laughed. It felt like an out of body experience. That was THE defining moment of my life. I would never be the same again. I was going to be a Mommy and I was truly elated. We went out to lunch to celebrate. I remember sitting in the Z Tejas Grill in Highlands Ranch, CO and looking around at all the people going about their everyday lives not knowing my precious secret. There was a tiny, little bitty life inside me and only Rod and I knew. What an incredible feeling to know that we were bringing life into the world. After lunch we ran over to Babies R Us and each picked out a little outfit in green and white, went home and hung them in the closet of the nursery to be and started planning and dreaming.
Zane's story began when we knew we should get started on another baby since Greyson was two. Again, I got pregnant in the second month of "trying". I just knew I was born to be a Mommy and after the long wait to start a family, I didn't want to wait any longer to add another one. Same brand of test, same bathroom, and two lines again. This time Rod knew what it meant. In that moment I believe he saw dollar signs, college funds, etc... We had sweet little Greyson in on the results this time. He went into the bathroom and brought the stick to us. I just started happy crying and hugging Rod and Greyson. Greyson just watched all the commotion, not sure what it was about. We video taped him showing the stick to the camera and saying that we were having a baby. I was absolutely thrilled to be pregnant again. I just couldn't wait to meet the precious little life that was on his way.
Silas was an unexpected and wonderful surprise. We knew we wanted three children and we were going to do the "trying" thing when Zane reached two years. I went to my doctor for a checkup when Zane was nine months old. I scheduled it during Rod's lunch so that he could sit in the car with Greyson and Zane while I ran in for the appointment. The doctor asked if I was trying to get pregnant again since the nurse listed "no birth control" on the chart. I told her, "No. Why? Am I pregnant?" She said she didn't know, but she would run a test. I just told her there was no birth control listed because I was there to get some more. She left the room for a few minutes and came back carrying a baggie with a stick in it. Oh, I know those sticks! They usually have two lines. She held it up and said, "Congratulations! You're pregnant." I felt my head spinning and for a moment I thought I would pass out and fall right off that paper covered table. "What? Zane is only nine months old!" I sort of floated out to the receptionist. She asked me a question about another appointment and I remember telling her, "I don't even know my own name right now." I found Rod in the car reading the newspaper. He asked, "How did it go?" without looking up from what he was reading. I said, "Good. A little different than I expected." There was a long pause. He was still looking at the paper, so I finally said, "Uh... we're having another baby." The newspaper lowered slowly, he swung his head around to look at me and was speechless. I held up the little baggie with the stick with two lines, and repeated, "We're having another baby!" We both broke into laughter and really didn't know what to say. We were in disbelief, yet so happy that again, we would know the absolute joy of adding a little baby to our sweet family. I think it was in that moment that Rod thought, "Note to self, have the snip snip immediately after this one is born."
Friday, January 21, 2011
Clean-up Time
Clean-up time is the most dreaded part of my day. I get the same reaction every single day. It never changes. Right around 4:30 every afternoon I call out the horrifying words that strike fear in all of us. "It's time to clean up! Daddy will be home soon!" And a slew of fits, gasps, and tantrums follow. I have the oldest complaining that he's not done playing yet. The youngest is almost in tears yelling, "But it's too hard!" And in the middle of these two boys writhing around in protest, the Heavens open and a ray of light shines down upon the head of my middle child. He is standing in the midst of chaos looking at me with a smile on face. He walks toward me, wraps his sweet little arms around me, looks into my eyes and says, "Okay Mama. I'll clean up for you." You know, I was a middle child as well. Middle children are near perfect. We want our Mama's to be happy when there is strife. We want our siblings to see that we are the favorite. After my hug from my near perfect child, I will usually say in a very loud voice, "Thank you Zane! You are such a good boy to obey Mommy with such a happy heart. I appreciate you and love you." That usually starts the clean-up process among the other two. I get "Look Mommy, I'm cweaning" from my youngest, and silent groans from the oldest as things are being thrown into the toy drawers. Yesterday as I relished in the sounds of toys being cleaned and boys obeying, I hear Zane say, "I'll put your shoes away for you Mommy." (Oh, that sweet boy!) The next thing I know my shoe is sailing through the air, being thrown as hard as a five year old can throw, slamming into the front door. I hear my voice calling out in slow motion.... "Noooooo! Those are from Italy!!!" "Oops! Sorry Mom. " The Heavens close, and the ray of light diminishes.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Why am I Blogging?
I am the lone girl in a house that is overrun with testosterone. I have a husband who is a boy, we have three little boys ages 8, 5, and 4, our bulldog is a boy as well as our cat. The only pink in this lego and hot wheels infested house are two bath towels that I purchased on the Target clearance rack in my desperate effort to girl up this place. It didn't work, but each time I wrap myself in those pink towels, I have a nice moment of girl-ness. Don't get me wrong. I love these boys more than anything, and I would have it no other way. I won't experience girl drama in the teen years, and I'll save a fortune on feminine products and weddings. In fact, if I was to have another baby (which I would absolutely LOVE, unfortunately my husband has been snipped, tied, and burnt but I'm still hopeful that one might hop the fence one day), I would want a fourth boy. I love them. Rowdy, messy, full of spunk and cuteness and they always stick up for their Mama.
I have been told countless times "You need to blog!" What in the world is a blog? I still have a cell phone that only calls people. I'm not a real technical sort of person. However, I have caved and think I have figured out how to make a blog. We'll see if that's true. Anyway, I don't expect to have any followers, and that's okay. I can handle it if I'm not real popular in the blog arena, seeing how there are probably millions of you out there. My one goal in this project is to have a written record of all the cute, sweet, and ornery things my boys have done and will do (that I can remember). Just being pregnant and giving birth to them has depleted most of my brain cells, listening to them fight, wrestle, scream, and whine have depleted the rest. I'm afraid that by the time they are grown, if I have survived it, I will be without my hearing and memory. I want them each to have a record these memories and know how much I have loved being their mommy.
I have been told countless times "You need to blog!" What in the world is a blog? I still have a cell phone that only calls people. I'm not a real technical sort of person. However, I have caved and think I have figured out how to make a blog. We'll see if that's true. Anyway, I don't expect to have any followers, and that's okay. I can handle it if I'm not real popular in the blog arena, seeing how there are probably millions of you out there. My one goal in this project is to have a written record of all the cute, sweet, and ornery things my boys have done and will do (that I can remember). Just being pregnant and giving birth to them has depleted most of my brain cells, listening to them fight, wrestle, scream, and whine have depleted the rest. I'm afraid that by the time they are grown, if I have survived it, I will be without my hearing and memory. I want them each to have a record these memories and know how much I have loved being their mommy.
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