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.

"I told you kid... stay out of my butt!"

I know that - in life - there are few things that need to be 100% serious.

Teaching my child to keep his head out of the rear ends of life...

Very serious.

And I am seriously failing.
Thanks to Mr. Potato Head, I get to daily exclaim my nine favorite words.

"I told you kid... Stay out of my butt!"

operation: burn the stump

Campfires in the front yard are the bomb-dot-com.

 

Especially when tin foil pizzas are in the mix.


Operation burn the Stump?  Unsuccessful.
Operation feed the boys?  Success!

Which is really all that really matters in the end.
Hooray for my temporary front-yard-fire-pit.
S'mores... anyone?

catecholamines

Two years ago I was a roll of bubble wrap.
Excited and scared and ready to pop.
Completely altering our life to pursue a PhD in neuroscience... was a very big deal.

And if I am completely honest, which I always am, I have to be careful with my thoughts.
I love my new home and my friends and living super close to family
but at times
I still ache for my Colorado.

But when I wake up to find surprise love notes written on the kitchen mirror...  

all the pain melts away like a Popsicle left out in the sun.


I love that I get to spend every night and every day with the man that always makes me smile.
I love that our dinner conversations revolve around our kids and stories and rectal probes bought on amazon.
And I love that I get to cuddle up close to my hot neuroscientist every day.

Forget the werewolves and vampires and fallen angels... I'm totally in love with my neuroscientist. 

Taylor Swift and Vomiting Mini Vans

1.  The boys are content riding in the mini van.  My fingers gently (and very carefully) switch the radio from Imagination Movers to Taylor Swift.

2.  Happiness is when the boys fail to notice that the radio is no longer singing about "what's in the fridge."

3.  Motherhood bliss is listening to REAL music.  Music about love and breakups and cowboys. 

4.  Syncopated rhythms tickle my ear drums and I am in mini van heaven. Momentarily, I forget my surroundings and my kids and my responsibilities.  I am just an ordinary girl singing in the minivan with absolutely no stress or worries.

5.  And then someone in the back seat vomits.

6.  Yep.  Vomits lands all over their body.  Heaven begins to smell like the hot dogs the kids ate for lunch... only more acidic.

7.  Inhale.

8.  Exhale.

9.  I begin bracing myself because I know that someone is going to start screaming.  Right now.  In my ear.  As I navigate multiple lanes of freeway traffic.

10.  In place of screaming, little boy laughter explodes like a firework from the back seat.

11.  Blinkers flash and brake lights ignite.  The sliding door to the van flies open to reveal a very happy CJ adorned in a very thin layer of hot dog and carrot chunks swimming in acidic saliva-water.  Yum.

12.  BURP!  Someone (Conner) in the back seat lets out a big burp.  His fist is shoved in the back of his mouth and he is laughing. very. hard.

13.  BURP!  Mr. Caleb decides to join the party with his knuckles pressed against the roof of his mouth he is laughing. like. never. before.

14.  BURP!  CJ lets out another amazing burp.  His fist is half way down his throat and his face is red with laughter and he. can. not. stop. laughing.

15.  Van door slams shut and I fall to the ground (in an attempt) to hide the laughter.  It is nearly impossible to discipline my kids when everyone is out-of-control-laughing. 

16.  Vomit and self-inflicted burps are never funny.  Shoving your fist down your throat to stimulate earth shattering burps may be fun... but eventually someone is going to vomit.

17.  I strapped on my serious face and told the boys to stop.  I told them that while inducing unnatural burps with your gag reflex may be fun, it is never worth the risk of making yourself sick. 

18.  Taylor Swift and Lee Brice and my all my radio friends were waiting for me when I revved the engine back to life.


Moral of the Story:

REAL music encourages scientific discoveries.
Childhood creativity is sparked by REAL music.
For the benefit of my children (and society) I will listen to REAL music from now on.
My boys should know and understand how to use a barf bag.

preschool preschool preschool!

Mr. Caleb started preschool last week and he is oh-so-excited.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are magical days filled with friends and airplanes and play dough at preschool.

Caleb goes to school at "Jon's school" and the smiles couldn't be bigger.
love love love my preschooler :)

25 + 3

I celebrated my 25 + 3 birthday on Thursday.
I once imagined that the 25 + 3 year old version of me
would be a version that "had it all together."

Standing here today at 25 + 3
I don't have it "all together."
And I never want to "have it all together."

Instead, I want to spend my time hugging my kids,
kissing my husband,
and enjoying the life that is mine.

Because my life - quite honestly - rocks.
I am blessed with a best-friend-husband that spoils me with earrings and stories and compliments
and three little boys that always kiss me good night.

25+3
I am sure,
you will be the best year of my life.