not sixteen anymore....

"Hey honey, do you mind adjusting my foot?  I slammed it down on the floor hard to emphasize a point with the boys and now it hurts... real bad..."

{Insert my laughter here}
 
"You can laugh all you want, but it isn't going to stop the fact that my foot hurts."


You know that you are not sixteen anymore when rolling off the couch, wrestling, and slamming your foot down on the floor hurts your body badly.

And honestly, I am quite happy that my body will fall apart with Nate by my side. Nine awesome years began today... nine awesome years ago.

cj says

"Mom, say bye."

"Bye CJ, where are you going?"

"I am going to Santa's house."

"Santa's house?"

"Yeah!  Caleb go with me."

"Can I come too?"

"Nope.  You staying here."


* * * * *


"Caleb, I think you are almost old enough to give up naps," Mom says.

"Me too?"  CJ asks hopefully.

"No, not until you are four or five,"  Mom says.

"Ding! Ding!  Ding!  Yeah!  I am five.  No more naps!"  CJ cheers.

"Sorry dude... it doesn't work like that," Mom says.

"Yes.  Yes it does mom."


* * * * *


"CJ, can you say rice?"  Said by the awesome Aunt Sadie.

"Rice..... can you say dopamine?" CJ replies.

"Dopamine,"  Sadie replies with a chuckle.


* * * * *

Marching up the stairs with a serious look plastered across CJ's face, he approaches Great-Grandma.

"Great-Grandma, I want a candy cane," he says firmly.

"I don't have any candy canes,"  Great-Grandma replies... slightly shocked at his aggressiveness.

"Yes... you dooooes,"  CJ replies.

"No, I don't."  Great-Grandma smiles.

"Yes... you doooes.  I saw it."  CJ asserts.

"I don't have any candy canes CJ,"  Great-Grandma replies.

"Yes... you dooes.  I show you."  CJ says as he leaves the room in a flurry.

you know you are a cool dad when...

your six-year-old (Conner) lovingly proclaims:

"I am so proud of dad.  He is learning cool things.  Like how to shoot a gun, cut up rat brains, and control mice."

"I am proud of my dad"

"He is super cool."

"I want to play with rat brains and guns when I am big and a dad."

ms. lee is hot

With elbows propped on the kitchen table his six-year-old head rests in the palm of his hands, his class picture sitting on the table in front of him.

"Dad, come look at this." Conner begs.

Dad walks away from the sink of dirty dishes to take a look.

"Tell me what you see."  Conner says, pointing to the 8x10 collage of classmates.

"I see you and I see your friend Jon and is that Emma?"  Dad says while drying his hands on a towel.

"No, dad.  Tell me what do you see?"  Conner says with his voice slightly rising.

"Okay, I see your teachers and your friends."  Dad says.

"No, dad!  Tell me what you see!!"  Conner's voice is now high, frustration blaring from his nose.

"Okay, okay,"  Dad says slightly baffled, "I see Maya, she has a cute smile and Suzanna's hair is cute and Kyra looks like a fun friend."

"No dad!  What do you see!!"  Conner is now yelling.

"I don't know!  What do you want me to see?!?"  Dad says in return... and let's be honest, his voice is beginning to rise too.

"Look at her.  My teacher.  What do you think?"  Conner says pointing to his twenty-something-single Chinese teacher.

"She looks nice."  Dad says.

"No, Dad.  What do you see?" Conner yells.


Finally, I leave the kitchen sink to look at the picture. 


"Dad, I think Conner is wanting you to say that his Chinese teacher is cute."  I say.

Conner's face turns from pink to red.

"Say it dad."  Conner says shyly.

"No.  She is not as cute as your mom."  Dad says firmly.

"Just say it dad,"  he says.

"No."  Dad says again.

"ms. lee is cute."  I finally say.


End of conversation.
Arguing with a six-year-old about the hotness of his Chinese teacher?
Exhausting :)

scent of dopamine

"Colton, your hand smells good.  What is on it?"  said Nate while putting Colton in bed.

"Dopamine!"  Colton said.  His hand proudly raised in the air.

"Are you serious?  How did you get dopamine on your hand?"  Dad asked with laughter brewing in his neuroscientist tummy.

"Don't know,"  said Colton, his eyebrows wrinkled in deep thought.

"So, what is on your hand?"  Dad asked again.

"Dopamine,"  Replied the somewhat puzzled Colton.

"Alright then.  Glad your hand smells like dopamine. Can you say the word monosaccharide?"  Dad says while rolling onto his back, a smile the size of Texas stamped across his face, and his forearm draped against his forehead.

"Monnosaccaride" Colton responds, his syllables as clear as a whistle.

"Great.  How about norepinephrine?" Dad says as I kiss Colton on the forehead and walk away.


Fathers and sons typically bond with fishing poles, soccer balls, and football games.
Colton and Nate?
They bond with biochemistry.

three truths and no lie

1.  I spent an entire night with Colton's toenail clipping lodged in my eye.

2.  Nate is teaching our kids that glucose is sweeter than a woman's kiss.



3.  Colton won't go to sleep without his "weapon."

Subluxated carrots of the world...

Conner the "carrot-practor" is here to save your aching back.
His hands are clean and pisiforms ready to provide proper cavitation. 

And don't worry, his adjustments are {almost always} free...

Resisting the urge to nibble on a properly aligned carrot?  Impossible.

halloween

 

when lab mice follow nate home

it makes a very unhappy angie.

good idea, bad idea: haircut

Good Idea:  Teaching bible stories to our boys.

Bad Idea:  Teaching the story of Sampson and super hero hair to our six-year old that hates getting his hair cut.

farting monsters

 image source

Caleb was terrified of monsters creeping into his room in the middle of the night.
Despite my best efforts to reassure him that monsters do not exist, he remained terrified.

He was terrified until Dad put him to bed one night.

Right in the middle of our nightly-scheduled-monster-trauma, Dad let out a big fart.
It was big and it was loud and it smelled horrible.

"Don't worry Caleb," Dad said with a look of complete satisfaction on his face,
"no monster will ever visit our house when it smells like this.
Did you know that monsters are scared of my farts?"

A large grin spread across our four-year-old's face.
And for the first time in months, he slept without a worry in the world.


Goodnight kisses are no longer complete without a goodnight fart from dad.


Caleb is now under the impression that mom farts away the scary shadows.
Believe me, I am never going to try.
Never ever.

Two Truths and a Lie

1.  When given the option, my boys would choose a mouthful of raw unseasoned spinach over a bowl of homemade macaroni and cheese.

2.  CJ is scared of underwear... and airplanes.

3.  While driving carpool home from school, I overheard Conner discussing the duration of my bathroom visits with his friends.  Isn't there anything sacred anymore?


{Answer:  They are all true... although I do wish that all of them were lies.} 

knock knock

We always share knock knock jokes around the kitchen table at dinner time.
With CJ listening in.

Until tonight when everything changed.

CJ:  knock knock
Me:  who's there?
CJ:  bum bum
Me:  bum bum who?
CJ:  bum bum pooping on the toilet.

Despite the potty talk... I am one proud mom right now.

blue lightning

Soccer season just ended. Boo.
We loved chanting "inside, outside, laces."

And eating dinner in the car on Wednesday nights.

And avoiding chores on Saturday mornings.

And watching Dad coach.

And taking lots and lots of pictures during the games.
Because Conner always plays better when the camera is focused on him.

Go Blue Lightning!

Rotten to the Core

Attitude.
It is everywhere.
Six year old, four year old, and two year old.
Attitude.

I'd say I couldn't get enough of it, but that would be a lie.
Time outs don't work.
Spanking (although I hate it) doesn't work.
Mom running out of the house in extreme frustration?  Well, at least I am getting some exercise.

Finally, Nate had an idea.
A glorious, brilliant, and highly scientific idea (he is a neuroscientist you know).

If the kids can't behave... well, its high time they spend some quality moments with Oscar the Grouch... in the garbage can.  Grouches love company.


We tossed all the parenting books in the recycling bin... and the kids with them.

In Conner's mind, trips to the garbage can are much better than Disney Land.
(And a whole lot cheaper too)

Caleb simply could not get in the can fast enough.

So if you drive past my house and find two little boys in the garbage can...
Don't worry.
I put them there.


... and because I have had a lot of questions about this post...

UPDATE:  I would never put my kids in the disgusting dirty full-of-stinky-diapers garbage can.  The kids are in the recycling bin... not the garbage can. 
UPDATE:  Our kids were given a bath with major soap after these pictures were taken.
UPDATE:  I like to make up stories.

UPDATE:  Nate is worried that our kids will not be able to decipher what is fact and what is fiction when reading this blog.
UPDATE:  Nate put the kids in the recycling bin to smash down the boxes.  Usually he is the one to climb in.
UPDATE:  Our kids are really good and they listen most of the time and I never spank.
UPDATE:  I am saving up for therapy.  Lots of it.
UPDATE:  Conner asked if his friends could come over this afternoon.
UPDATE:  He wanted to play in the recycling bin with them.
UPDATE:  I told him no.
UPDATE:  I grounded him from the recycling bin today.
UPDATE:  He is heart-broken.

Something is Missing!

Conner lost his first tooth on Wednesday night!

That first little tooth that decided to sprout in his baby mouth six years ago during our move from Texas to Colorado is no longer in my child's mouth.

It took a lot to get that tooth here... and it took a lot to get it out!

With his adult tooth cutting through the surface behind the loose tooth, a strategy to remove his tooth was quickly instigated.  Conner wiggled that tooth loose while doing his homework, falling asleep at night, and wrestling with his brothers (okay, maybe not during the wresting).

Finally, when all hope was lost, the tooth was encircled about with dental floss and attached to a door knob.  Excitement filled the air with the prospect of the slamming door removing his tooth.  Panic rained down from the sky like a Texas hail storm and when all hope seemed to be lost, Dad yanked that tooth out with a single strand of dental floss.  With one quick yank, the tooth went flying and high pitched screams filled the air with a vigor never known to mankind.

Lucky for Dad, the two of them are friends once again.  Meanwhile Mama Bear roared to life as red liquid poured from the empty socket in my child's mouth.  Blood.  My heart began racing and my fists grew tight.  No one hurts my child.  A big grin spread across Dad's triumphant face and I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster.

Did you know that it is normal for a kid to bleed after a tooth falls out?

Everyone knows that a large batch of homemade spinach-mint ice cream is the best way to calm down the Mama Bear, the panicked child, and the stronger-than-door-knobs dad.  Mama bear dissolved in the kitchen and when the ice cream maker roared to life everyone settled down like a child in time out.  Celebrations are never complete without a cup of spinach... or two.

The tooth was safely secured in an Eppendorf tube (otherwise known as the "happy tube" at our house) that Dad forgot to discard at the neuroscience lab before coming home.  Not every kid can claim that kind of fame now can they?  And I am pretty sure that my child is the first to leave a happy drug tip under his pillow. 

Dreams of kissing tag and Emma danced around his head and somewhere in the night the Tooth Fairy made her visit. The "happy tube" was removed with the tooth and we can only assume that the Tooth Fairy is very happy... wherever she is.

PhD students have to make money somehow.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that "happy tubes" will encourage a more profitable tooth reimbursement next time the Tooth Fairy comes to call.

don't you dare laugh... this post is not funny.

Outside boxes are being flattened with first grade anger,
explosive and dangerous and not safe,
all because a girl at school puckered her lips... and my laughter won't stop.

Kisses at school are never funny.
Period.

Because "how dare she!"
Pucker her lips and illegally kiss his cheeks in the middle of class.
Conner is flattening boxes in anger... and my laughter won't stop.

Kisses at school are never funny.
Period.

I suggested that kissing her in return,
would be the perfect come back,
and his anger tripled in wrath... and my laughter won't stop.

Kisses at school are never funny.
Period.

I'm going to wipe the smile off my face,
and hold my child
while he cries out his little I-got-kissed-at-school-today-heart... and my laughter won't stop.

Because kisses at school are never funny.
Period.
So don't you dare laugh... because my laughter won't stop.

excited

Little-boy-drawn-pictures are exciting.

Playing hide-n-go seek one billion times and then hiding in the same spot two billion times is exciting.

Two-year-old boys parading around the world in their birthday suit is exciting.
(But only when the I-don't-want-to-get-dressed battle between mom and child is forgotten.)

Indiana Jones shoulder bags are exciting.  Did you know that Indiana Jones wears his shoulder bag for one purpose only?  Extra Underwear! 

Fighting archeology wars is important and sometimes your pants get wet in the process... and sometimes they don't but it is important to practice.  Caleb wetting his pants on PURPOSE to simply practice the skill of changing underwear... well, that one is exciting to him.

 

Going to dinner with a group of professional neuroscientists and their wives in a remote high-scale mountain town... is exciting and a lot of fun. 

Friends that hold our hands are exciting.

Discovering an interest in running is exciting. 

primary program make outs

The room is mostly quiet
The children are taking turns standing at the pulpit and speaking
Primary programs are the best.

Sitting in a crowded pew with one child is amazing
Watching your older children is incredible
It was an awesome Sunday.

In the middle of a song with a Caleb who is not singing but giving major thumb ups to the audience
and a Conner on the front row fake frowning and trying to pull the "mom card" with puppy dog faces -
loud smooches echo from the mouth of my two-year-old sitting next to me.

I look down
And witness a CJ enforced Mickey and Minnie make out session
during the primary program.

His fingers carefully move their figures around to
push their mouths and noses together
while his cheeks and tongue squeak to make the perfectly very loud kissing sound.

Quietly, I share a thumb ups with Caleb
wink at Conner
and confiscate Mickey and Minnie.

Although I am pretty happy that my child is interested in romance
between a boy and a girl
figurine make outs do not belong at church.

And now, to my every growing list
of things to not pack for church
I add the figurines.

A list that is becoming quite extensive
thanks to Conner's interest in drawing butts
and CJ's primary program make outs.

I think it is time
for our family to fold our arms
and learn to pay attention.

I just hope
they don't resort
to "pants-ing" one another again.

Wish me luck :)

celebrate tight shorts

CJ is crushing on these checkered "soccer" shorts.
He likes tight shorts... and he will not lie.
Despite his love for tightness, it is a well known fact that 24 month sized shirts and pants are not to be worn by 35 pound toddlers.

And so in honor of these lovely tight shorts we goin' celebrate and have a good time.

And when the moon is high in the sky and the boy is sleeping in his favorite extra-large angry bird shirt...
these bad boys are going in to storage.

Until then.
Celebrate tight shorts...c'mon!

game faces

Uncle Preston and Aunt Becca moved to California this summer.

Uncle Spencer moved to China.

And we are still here.
In here-ness.
While they are no longer here.

Boo.

Not cool.

And so we are trying to be brave while everyone leaves.
We wake up each morning and although the boys ask to leave
We are trying to be strong and not leave.

And so we put our game faces on.

We miss our Aunt Becca and Uncle Preston and Esa and Esau.

Life without them?
Well... we are still trying to figure it out.
One game face at a time.