A Reminder post…

As I sit here with Noah… while he watches the Doodlebops (it’s his new, very make-me-wanna-drink-heavily obsession)… I realize there’s so MUCH that I’ve been wanting to blog about.  Every time something happens in my little boring life, I think… I should blog this!  As I’m driving down the road sometimes I even get the wording down… and then … it never gets written…

So I will use this as a personal reminder…

…because if I use post-it notes, the kids will draw all over them… throw them away… or who knows…

* becoming THAT military wife…
* volunteering at school…
* Noah’s changing attitude…yeah… changing for the worse…
* the sick scare
* pumpkin patch
* meeting new friends
* soul searching…

…and with that… I’m off to try and put my little monster sweet little boy down for a nap…

 

How My Brain Works…

Well, when it works.

So the other day, DJ and I were outside taking the trash out.  Noah was napping and Trey was inside watching TV or playing the Wii or something else in the brain-suck category.  We had the monitor with us… yeah, I dunno… we kind-of, by muscle-memory, just TAKE it wherever we go on the OFF chance that Noah will wake up and need us right-now-in-this-very-instant!   It’s habit okay?

So we were standing there talking and DJ drops the monitor.

Immediately, he kicks it with his foot to try and pop it up and catch it again.  Well, it kinda backfired and it got launched into the yard.

But that’s not the point.

He says to me, “I thought… if I kick it right here [he points to a certain part of the monitor] I could kick it back up at this angle and catch it… guess it didn’t work.”

I kind of looked at him, slack-jawed.

My brain. DOES. NOT. FUNCTION. THAT. WAY.

I would have been all [insert slow motion replay]… “Ohhhh-hhh-hh…. shhiiiiiiii-iiii-****”

Eyes bulging.

Drool… hanging from my mouth… as I watch the monitor crash to its end on the concrete…

Maybe my hand would have twitched…like…to maybe try and…I dunno…catch it or something.

Likely not.

And then I told him this.

And he laughed.  Chuckled.  Like he does AT me… when I’m being self-deprecating and stupid.

And I said, ”I’m totally blogging this.”

Done.

 

My Personal Plague

DJ often says things like, “I don’t care what other people think…” and makes this kind-of waving-of-the-hand motion and then eats a sandwich or something.

And he totally means it.

I say, “Yeah. I don’t care what other people think.”  And then I start to twitch… and my eyes shift back and forth… because ohmigod-what-if-people-can-tell-I’m-twitching…and then I fiddle with my shirt because it’s clinging to my fat rolls…and then I shift back and forth because, well, that’s what I do when I’m mildly nervous… and then I don’t make eye contact with whomever it is I’m talking to because I suck at personal interaction… and then… yeah… so you…uh… get the picture.

It’s a lie!

A ruse!

I care what other people think!

I’m outed.

And this has come to light since I’ve become a parent.  Most ardently.  EVERY website EVERY book EVERY parenting-advice-column/blog/paper/magazine always says, you can’t compare your kids to other kids.

Liars.  Evil … give-me-a-total-mind-numbing-complex…liars.

We all do.  And it’s a plague.

And then your kid goes to school.

And the plague worsens.

While I have no doubt that my children are brilliant (yet slightly, I mean, totally spoiled, mildly violent, TV-loving) creatures… I still suffer from this sickness.

Ohmigod, her kid is 5 and is reading Faust… he can do multiplication tables and he’s just 6?  Look at how well that kid hits the ball… wow…she’s really well-spoken…

Or..

Look at that mom, she’s so PUT TOGETHER. She’s actually wearing make-up and has showered and smells nice?  Look at her… she doesn’t have squashed banana pieces on her shirt or a mysterious wet spot on her pants… and … oh man… that mom is researching brilliant ways to enhance her child’s mind… and… me… I’m all, “TREY. NO SPONGE BOB. MOMMY’s TIRED.. I NEED A NAP.”  At 9Am.

Okay so maybe I’m exaggerating.  A little.  Or not at all.

So I find that my challenge has been … instead of letting all of this overwhelm me and turn me into heaping pile of I’m-no-good-at-this-parenting-shit… I’m USING it as a step to get better.  To improve.

Why can’t all these parenting journals/blogs/magazines/what-have-you just say that?!

You WILL inevitably compare yourself, at some point, to other moms.  You WILL inevitably compare your kids, at some point, to other kids… Take it all in stride, give your kids lots of hugs and kisses and LEARN from this.  USE it to make you a stronger, better parent.  TWIST it, MOLD it, SHAPE it into something that works for your family….

So.

From now on it’ll be, “TREY. NO SPONGE BOB.  READ this book about SPONGE BOB….”

I rule.

 

Lighting a Spark…

It’s like… I say to myself… “Post to your personal blog…”  and then I’m all, “Okay… I will total..lee… huh…”  zzzzzzz *snore*

So here I am.

I have a calm second before DJ gets home and before my crazy month of October begins…

I didn’t want to move forward though until I posted this because I feel like it’s important in a little way… to this family.

A few weeks ago, we packed up the family early one Sunday morning and drove over to VA Beach to see my good friend, Chy, race in her first half-marathon.

Here she is.  In all her loveliness after she ran 13 miles.  I’d be dead.  On the ground.  And she looks great.  Though she’ll probably kill me for posting this, I don’t care. 

Unfortunately we somehow (don’t ask b/c we have NO IDEA) missed her as we were waiting on the corner….  looking for someone you know in a sea of 40,000 runners is like LIVING a ‘Where’s Waldo’ book.  Except you don’t know what Waldo’s wearing… and you’re semi-blind…like me.  Awesome.

But we did see some other pretty interesting stuff:

Woody.  HOW he ran 13 miles like this… unbelievable.

…and a juggler…

…and a freakin’ kid.  A kid?!

And we can’t forget this…

Trey showing us his muscles.

… and this…

Noah on his way to dreamland…

…and this…

Noah IN dreamland…

So all of this… all the cheering… the bands… the commotion…the exhausted, yet totally accomplished looks on the runner’s faces…   It stirred something up in my uber competitive athlete of a husband…

And now he’s registered for HIS first half-marathon…

March 20th.

Virginia Beach Shamrock Marathon.

Wait.

There’s more.

Not to be left out… TREY is registered as well.  No, no.. not the 1/2.  The day before the shamrock marathon, they have a kid’s run… Operation Smile Final Mile…  He is so excited.  As soon as DJ gets home, we’re going out to buy him some real running shoes so he can start training… like his daddy…

Anyone want to come for a mini-vacay in march?!

Until next time,

K

 

Normalcy reigns…

Sorry to have left you with that overly emotional, mildly psychotic entry (disassociating selves?!  hmm…alrighty then).

The first week of school has passed and we’re approaching the end of Week 2.  Trey has been walking into class on his own since virtually the day after the meltdown episode.  I still have little pangs of anxiety as we pull up to school (and undoubtedly will until he goes to college…) but he is doing very well as far as that’s concerned.

In all other areas, he seems to be doing okay too. Though, he did come home one day with a yellow sad face on his ‘behavior chart’ that they send home in their folders everyday.  Seems he was talking to his friend during quiet time…

You know, in retrospect, I should have known something was wrong.  He was so quiet… didn’t talk all the way home… didn’t tell me about the girls chasing him during recess… nothing.  Quiet.  Quiet. Quiet.

So I open his folder once we get home, see the little note and say, “Oh Trey.  What happened?”

“Bwaahhh!  Mooomm…I don’t want to telll youuuu!!”

He was rather mortified I believe…

I get it out of him… and after some discussion, we agree that he doesn’t get to play the Wii on days he doesn’t get a ‘green smiley face’…  AND… he would have to call his dad…to tell him what happened.

“Bwaahhhhh!!  Mooommm… I don’t want to tell DAAADDAAA!!!! Noooo I don’t want tooooo!!!!”

Cue cell phone…

I look over and his little tan, asian face has gone totally white…

In a barely audible, totally resigned whisper, “That’s my dad… isn’t it…”

It was SO funny.

In other news, the weather around here is just beginning to give the hint of true autumn.  And I am in absolute heaven.  I’m almost giddy with excitement… there is nothing more, in this world, that I love more than fall.  Cool air. Crisp leaves crunching under your feet.  Bright colors.  The smell of pumpkin pie.  Mmmm… it gets my heart racing!

I’m so glad that we enrolled Trey in Fall-Ball this year through the same league he played Tee-Ball in… it means I’ll get to be outside quite a bit during this transition time!  yay!

Here he is at his first machine-pitch practice last week.   Oh how I love this boy…

Here’s a few more from recent days:

Trey and his new fancy ‘Star Wars’ lunchbox.  He is very proud.

The baby who is suddenly no longer resembling a baby, but a little boy.  I disapprove.  I have not signed anything.  He is not allowed to get older.  Why is this happening?!

Noah being silly… at dinner… because his brother was being silly and he has to do EVERYTHING … absolutely everything… his brother does…

See, here’s silly brother…

On that note.

It’s very late.  I must get to bed.

Until later,

~ me

 

Meltdown

Do you ever have those moments when your body, brain and heart just don’t communicate? Like… your brain is telling you one thing… your body is reacting another way… and your heart a third? I had one of those moments this morning…

I think the stress of this week came crashing down on my boy this morning before school.  I could have done a million things better … which seems to be the story of any parent’s life… but I didn’t.  And he had a meltdown.

Outside of school.

The morning at home was pretty routine, but as we got closer to the time we had to leave, we started getting behind. I was finishing up packing his lunch, I had to find Noah’s immunization records, I couldn’t find my keys (which hold the key to the fire safe that we keep all the important papers in), I had to get everyone’s shoes on… and we only had about 10 minutes… Trey was begging to watch Sponge Bob (which we’re trying to wean him off of… it’s a hideously annoying show) and wasn’t trying to help at all.  I was frustrated. There it begins…

So we get into the car and we’re headed to school with a few minutes to spare before he was late.  We get up to the school and I realize that I’d forgotten his tag…the one that they’re supposed to wear the whole first week of school… his cute little blue paw that tells who his teacher is and where he’s supposed to be.  Had I not mentioned it, I don’t think Trey would have noticed, but it hit me with such force at that second it came out like,  *GASP* “I forgot your pin!”  So he proceeded to beg me to go back home to get it.  Trey is a creature of habit, and like his mom, likes to fall into the fold.  He’s not okay with being the odd one out… just wants to be like everyone else.  So it continues…

We get up to the door of the school where we’re supposed to give them hugs and let them walk the 50 feet to their room alone…

And he melts down…

Crying.  Not just tears and whimpering, full on wails and begging me to walk in with him.

We hug and I  try and talk him down for a few minutes… trying to explain that I can’t go in… meanwhile, Noah’s standing next to his brother repeating, “Sad. Sad. Sad.”

“Yes buddy, brother is sad…”

The crying worsens…

Several very sweet parents of kids he knows offered to let him walk in with their kids… he ignored them and continued to wail.  LOUD wails.

Here’s where the various aspects of my self started to disassociate.

My BRAIN started calculating how long we’d been standing there, realizing that the bell was about to ring.  And calculated the time it would take to walk ALL the way around to the front of the building, go to the main office, get a visitor’s pass, and walk him directly to his classroom.  Too long. Option out.  The most logical course is to reason with him for a few minutes, using any tactics necessary, get him to stop crying… move on.

My BODY, responding to the signals the brain was relaying and the high-pitched like-I’m-stabbing-him-ohmigod-everyone-in-a-3-block-radius-can-hear wailing, started implementing my stress response.  Things are not going as planned… must create stress to move things along faster… I was losing patience, getting frustrated, my voice started to get tougher…

and…

My HEART.  It was breaking.  My heart is telling me that he’s had a long week, his dad’s gone, he’s tired, we didn’t have our normal easy-going morning, mom forgot the blue pin… he needs lots of hugs and time and for-god’s-sake-woman-screw-the-establishment-and-take-the-time-to-walk-him-around-the-building.

So the combination of these things turned into,  “Fine. Trey let’s go around the building…!”  Stress. Stress.  Stress. Stomp.  “Let’s go!  You’re going to be late.” Stomp.  March.  Stress. Stress.  Sign In. Go. Stress.

Then at the room, he begins wailing again.  Over the loud cries I try to explain to his teacher that his dad’s gone for the month… he’s having a tough morning…

…and then my throat starts to get tight… I can feel the pressure behind the bridge of my nose… the very first hint of tears start forming …

She says gently,  “You know, just a few minutes after you leave, he’ll be fine.  I know you’ll have a knot in your stomach for the rest of the day.. but he’ll be fine.”

I kind of nod numbly… give a fake, weird, resigned smile, say weakly, “I love you buddy…” and turn and head off down the hall.

Cue waterworks. I could hear him crying all the way to the front door…

I raced out of there, not wanting anyone to see me lose it… get in the car and head off to Portsmouth for Noah’s well-baby appointment.

Then my phone rings.  It’s his teacher.  She called just to tell me that he stopped crying, he’s fine and not to be upset all day.  I think that sweet gesture made me cry more. I tried to tell her thank-you without sounding like I’d swallowed a handful of grapes and hung up the phone.

*sigh*

Tonight.  Trey will get McDonald’s for dinner…

 

It Begins…on a rainy day…

On this dreary, rainy day, my first baby went off to school.  Kindergarten.  Real school.  *sigh*

Last night after we put the boys to bed, I could feel the tell-tale signs of anxiety – my stomach was all bubbly and I was nervous and jittery.  I felt like I was the one going to school for the first time… I kept saying to DJ, “I’m nerrvous!!  What if [insert some my-child-gets-lost-or-put-on-a-bus-when-i'm-supposed-to-pick-him-up scene] or what if [insert some out-of-the-movies-scene-between-some-stupid-bully-kid-and-the-sweet-sensitive-shy-kid] or what if [insert some end-of-days-world-is-over-apocalypse-scene]…”  He would just laugh.  “He will be fine”, he’d say.  My face would cringe, but after some deep breaths all was fine.  I busied myself getting the house cleaned up and spent some brain deadening time on facebook,  then hit the sack.

This morning was a flurry of getting everyone ready, fed, packed up and out the door… no time for nervous bubbly stomachs and jitters.  Go! Go! Go!

Wait.  Pictures.  Always have time for a few pictures.

Trey is a stoic, amazing, child.  The only hint of anxiety was right when we pulled up to the school he said, “I’m NERVOUS!”  That was it.  We walked him into the classroom, got him settled, gave big hugs and left.  As I was leaving, I kept trying to make eye contact to give that final wave, but he was busy looking around his room, taking everything in.  Or he knew that if he looked at me, I’d lose it.  Probably the first.  He is a boy afterall… 

I kind of piddled around in the hallway and debated sticking my head back in the classroom, but was afraid I’d see his face breakdown…or he’d breakdown…or I’d grab him and run out the door and homeschool him.  Okay, maybe not the last one… but you get the idea.  Well that and DJ who kept saying, “He’s fiiine.  He’s fine. Don’t do it.  Don’t go back in there.  COME ON WOMAN… He is FINE. You’re gonna make it worse…”  So, well, that kinda helped get me out the door too.

Everyone says time flies.

Everyone tries to warn you when you first have kids… that it goes by so fast.

But how can you understand, until it happens?

I remember this…

(trey, roughly 4 month old)…

And this…

(roughly 5-6 months old)

And this…

(roughly 8 months old)

And this…

(almost a year)

…all of this like it was yesterday.

And now, he’s this big boy…

…with his Kindergarten teacher.

I am so proud of him.  So proud beyond words.

Until next time,

~ K

 

Reee-wind… to… the 4th of July.

This is slightly embarrassing.  I have been meaning to blog this for ages and, well, I’m just now getting around to it.  Well, part of it.

In a nutshell, we decided to avoid some of the crowded popular places this year and stay at the house and see what the fireworks looked like from the yard. We’d heard that we could see 3 different sets from our road.  Turns out, we could see Ft. Monroe’s show pretty well, far in the distance we were able to see some from Norfolk and we heard the Newport News show, but couldn’t see them through the trees.   So, it wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was the rest of the day that made this 4th special.   The best part, and the part I’ve really wanted to share is Trey’s Lemonade Stand.  For months before the 4th, Trey had been talking about wanting to set up a lemonade stand…”Mama. Myyy lemonade stand is going to be the best. I’m going to charge $100 for a glass of my lemonade.  Well, maybe $5.”

We decided that the 4th would be the perfect day to set up because of the large amount of traffic on our road… and then… we worked and worked and worked to convince him to donate all his funds to a good cause.  And then we worked and worked and worked to convince him that $5 was just a tad too much to charge for a cup of lemonade.  And then we worked and worked and worked to convince him that a card table would work just fine for the stand and that, no, we didn’t have to BUILD one out of pieces of wood.  We won on most fronts and then agreed on donating 50% of his profits…

So after doing a bunch of research together, Trey decided on Alex’s Lemonade Stand.  One of Trey’s friends from his pre-school class has an older brother that had recently been diagnosed with a rare form of childhood cancer… so this one meant something to him.  Alex’s Lemonade Stand encourages kids and groups to set up lemonade stands and donate the funds to their organization which is committed to finding a cure for all children with cancer. It’s really a fantastic organization… I think this is going to turn into an annual thing for us.  Trey had a lot of fun and felt like he was doing something good… “…to help Alex and the other kids that are sick…”  It was great.

You know, it helps… to dress up like a Power Ranger when trying to sell your lemonade.  Seriously. It’s, like, scientifically proven or something…

Trey with one of his first customers.

Getting some reassurance from our friend Shawn (dad to Isaiah and Hunter… good friends from tee-ball).

DJ explaining about Alex’s Lemonade Stand… I don’t think we had enough good super-hero vibes, so we brought out Black Spiderman.  Awesome.

Noah.  Not so much interested in the lemonade stand… but the beer cooler.  Now that’s fun stuff.

Uncle Ryan… watching the beer-cooler-lovin’-baby…

All in all, Trey raised over $40 for Alex’s Lemonade Stand.  He was very proud of himself and we are SO proud of him.

By the way, we have to give a quick shout-out to DJ, Aaron, Shawn, Uncle Ryan and John for helping scare and coerce to flag down potential customers.  We may have alienated all our neighbors, but, it’s all good.  Another shout-out has to go to Tee-Tee (who wasn’t here sadly… she was here the week prior) who provided us with the most awesome, delicious 5 Gallon recipe for Lemonade.  It. was. awesome.  The two cops that stopped by were floored

More to come… more to come…

~ K

 

Siblings

I remember fighting with my sister… as girls we weren’t so much into knock-down-drag-outs but it was definitely a battle of wills and words. We are almost 8 years apart, so it was never a fair fight, one way or the other. I was a lot bigger… she was the “baby” so always held an advantage with the parents… she was smaller and faster… you get the idea.

So when Noah was born the first thing everyone asked was, “How’s Trey doing with him? Are they getting along?” Well, of course they’re getting along, Noah’s a heap of pooping, nursing, cuddly, flesh. He doesn’t move, doesn’t steal toys, can’t talk, and just cries. Totally easy to ignore. So in my newbie-parent-of-more-than-just-one-kid innocence, I’d reply… “Oh he’s a GRRREEAAAT big brother. Really, no problems to speak of!” Most people would smile… others that new better would smile and give me a little pat on the arm. I didn’t know any better… poor thing. She’ll figure it out soon.

Well, soon has come.

With a vengeance.

Noah is a force to be reckoned with. He’s Trey’s polar opposite… where Trey is often thoughtful and quiet, Noah is impulsive and LOUD. I mean give-you-an-instant-headache loud. Trey is cautious… Noah is a daredevil and will happily try and throw himself off the back of the couch, for fun. Trey is happy to lay on the floor with me and read books… Noah grabs the books from our hands and sits on them.

So, as I’m sure you can imagine, “playing” together has become something of an issue.

We have our moments when they do really well together and we’ll hear belly laughs coming from the living room as they roll around together or Trey will be patient with Noah… but for the most part, we’ve entered the realm of breaking up constant fights. Noah, not completely verbal yet, melts into ear-piercing screams when he can’t get what he wants from his brother and Trey assumes mom and dad can cure all… “MOOOOOM! Noah’s doing xyz-whatever-pushing-hitting-screaming-tugging-you-name-it-annoying-little-brother-behavior AGAIN!”

It is exhausting. At the least.

Most often, days begin like this… sitting together calmly on the couch… (or wherever…the background scenery could be anywhere)

Then someone wants to play with something… could be anything.  Doesn’t even have to be anything “cool”… if one has it, the other one wants it.  This day, it’s the LEGOs.  Noah resorts to full-body force when attempting to get things from his brother.  He usually just sits on him or jumps on him or something.  So then Trey is all, “Noooaaahhh. Get ooooff of meeee.”

Noah temporarily gains the upper hand.  He attempts to pin his brother’s arms down…

Trey gets his hands free, but Noah’s now pushing Trey’s head away…

Trey gets free, attempts to peacefully continue to build whatever superhero-building-airport-whatever out of LEGOs… Noah continues to try and demolish the building with any appendage he can get free…  Trey is frustrated and screams… “Nooooaaah!! STOOOOOPPP!!”

…and then he can’t take it anymore and *womp* hits his brother …

Documentary coverage quickly ceases.

So it begins.  The years and years and years of sibling rivalry.  With boys.

Hope all is a bit calmer at your house.

Until next time,

~K

 

Life with 2 Boys… part 6,984…

(a little background information first: last night we were watching that Leviathans of the Deep show on Discovery channel)…

This morning as I was changing Noah’s diaper…

TREY: That thing under Noah’s penis is kinda big.

ME: That’s his scrotum hon.

TREY: What’s a trotum for?

DJ: It holds your testicles…

(pause… he’s obviously thinking… neurons are firing left and right…)

TREY: Like on a squid?!

DJ: No those are tentacles.