reason #984

Despite her inability to breath on her own, the baby girl growing in my tummy is a par-tay animal.
Enforcing a midnight curfew has proved failure.
This girl likes to dance around my spleen and bladder - kicking everything in between - well into the early morning hours.

While I sleep off the effects of her late night festivities, Nate wakes with the early risers.
He pours them cereal, does the dishes, and invents wild things for them to do together.
Mario cart races, dodge ball in the basement, card houses, lessons on how to take a blood pressure....

And when I stumble from my bedroom each and every morning, the smiles are wider than the Mississippi river.
Time with Dad is always awesome.
Reason #984 why I love my man.

big boy hide-n-go-seek

I am convinced that hide-n-go seek is a man's game.  Hunting for hidden items must be composed on a male's DNA because my FOUR boys sure love it.

Six years ago, Nate was introduced to the game of the geo-cach.  Best.  Day.  Ever.  Before Conner could walk, the three of us began searching the Colorado maps for hidden caches.  Caleb joined our family and Colton soon followed.  Geocaching - for me - became a frustrating babysitting trip.  Keeping kids away from the water, off dangerous platforms, out of the road, and away from strange dogs (thanks to Steamboat Springs) made the hunt for the geo-cach exhausting.

But you know what?  Something AMAZING happened this summer.  The boys  finally get the game.  And they LOVE it.  Conner and Caleb explore with dad, taking turns with the compass, and locating the various hidden caches while Colton sings to me and picks flowers for me.

I can... you know... spread out a blanket, enjoy a book, and take pictures while my little men hunt.
Hardest activity ever transformed into best activity ever.

faces

Colton's obsession with playing the part of an evil Sith Lord has been replaced with faces.

I can't take this kid anywhere without his thumbs pulling against his nostrils and his mouth puckering up into a pig like position.  Herding three boys quietly through the library was a challenge prior the face-making-obsession began.  Now it is near impossible.

And let's be honest.
The face is funny.
It makes a lot of people laugh.
And I mean a lot of people.

The laughter (or positive attention) then reinforces the face.
Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.
It just makes the task of running errands with three little boys a billion times more difficult.

And the best part?
I don't have to look too far to discover the "teacher of the face."

when daddy comes home...

We {the boys} clap their hands and shout for joy and climb upon his back.

They put their arms around his neck.
Hug him tight like this.

Kick his cheeks and give him what?
A great big kiss.

Independence Day

"Look mom!  I did it myself!"  Colton said marching around the kitchen floor with his pants on inside out and shirt twisted backwards. Teaching this child to dress has been quite the challenge.  And I can't blame him.  Selecting the right clothing, preparing it for dress, and then twisting various appendages around into petite holes proves fatal to the confidence of any human being.  I don't know how I ever survived.     

Despite the backwards shirt and the inside out pants, we had a little independence day celebration.  A bag of no-longer-needed-diapers made the perfect pedestal for our champion.   Cheers of big boy pride bounced from his heart and lungs while brothers circled around him.

This kid?  He can finally pull his own pants up!
Happy Independence Day!

how to treat a bee sting with a pvc pipe...

Despite the high pitched screams emerging from the kitchen, I took my time helping Colton off the toilet.  The last time someone screamed like that it was because of a wet leaf.

 "What is going on?"  Nate asked as Caleb stood in the kitchen with his wet swim suit sticking to his body and the look of horror smeared across his face.

"It's probably a wet leaf."  I yelled from the bathroom.

"There is no leaf on his leg."  Nate yelled back at me.

"Okay... well... then... I don't know."

Pulling at his shirt, Caleb motioned with his hands that the source of his distress was located inside his shirt.  Removing Caleb's shirt, Nate yanked a stinger off Caleb's ribs and smashed a hidden bee against the ground.

Sobbing, Caleb wrapped his arms around my shoulders.  After some awesome daddy first-aid and two episodes of the Magic School Bus, Caleb was happy and ready to play.

An hour later, screams emerged from the family room... again.  Dropping the spatula, I abandoned dinner preparations to find blood gushing from Caleb's mouth.

Between the screams, I discovered that Caleb (the son of a scientific researcher) had decided to perform his own scientific experiment.  Testing his hypothesis, he soon discovered that homemade PVC piped marshmallow guns are longer than the length of his mouth.  The gag reflex proved to be a blip in the road to his scientific research.  Gagging on PVC, the pipe punctured his uvula and bruised the soft pallet in the back of his mouth.  Unable to swallow and eat and drink, pain killers became a necessary BFF for the day.

Bee sting?
What bee sting?

Next time you find yourself irritated with an annoying bee sting, please remember Caleb's scientific discovery.  Despite the gag reflex, PVC punctured uvulas are the perfect remedy to any form of discomfort.  Although we have not tested this method on mosquito bites or stubbed toes we are confident that the PVC induced pain will illuminate any and all minor annoyances.  As for pain management during natural child birth?  We will keep you posted.

Sexy Ed 101

"Wow mom, that car was Seeexy!"  Conner says from the back seat of the minivan.  Driving along at the legal speed, a hot yellow mustang sounded it's horn and swerved around our mini van.

"Say what?"  My fingers turn the radio off.  Some conversations do not require the presence of Taylor Swift.

"That car.  What it did.  It was sexy."

"Sexy?"  I ask.  Please.  Please.  Please.  Let my ears be wrong.

"Yeah.  It was sexy."

"Um... what exactly does the word sexy mean?"  My courage is lost somewhere in my throat.  I had hoped to avoid this conversation for... I don't  know... a billion years.

"You know sexy.  The word you and dad use all the time."

"Um... yeah? What does that word mean?"  My face feels hot and it isn't because of the afternoon sun.

"Well... you know... sexy... it is kind of like the word stupid.  Only you and dad get to say it without going to a time out."

"Um.  Sexy does not mean stupid."  I instantly correct him.  Could Conner seriously believe that every sexy compliment aimed towards Nate had been devised to "put him down"?

"Well, then what does it mean?"

"Well... it means... you know... that you love someone so much that you want to kiss them and hug them and spend every moment of the day with them.  It means that you appreciate and honor them."

"Oh... I see."  Conner says.

"It is a special word that you need to save for the person that you will one day marry.  Daddy can say it to mommy because we are married.  Because the word is super special, it is important that you save it for your wife."  I stammer, hoping to avoid any sexy comments emerging from his mouth on the playground.

"Wow mom.  Thanks for telling me that.  I could have really used that word wrong."  Conner says, his cheeks growing pink.

"No problem.  If you ever want to talk more about it, I am here for you."  I say while silently hoping that Nate will be the one to address any future Sexy Ed questions.

"Thanks Mom,"  Conner says.

Relief washes over me.  We had the conversation and it wasn't that bad.  Perhaps this whole teach-your-children-everything-you-know concept isn't half as bad as I once thought it to be.

*  *  *

"So... boys... how do you think baby Carlee got into mom's tummy?"  The curling iron crashes against the bathroom vanity as I burst into the kitchen.

"Seriously?"  I ask, glaring at Nate.

A smile spreads across his face.  "I am just curious what they think."

"Yeah.  But I don't want to have that conversation anytime soon.  You hear?"  My hands land on my hips and my eyes shoot serious-darts-of-fire in his direction.

"But you did so well with the last one... I thought I would... you know... speed things up."

"You are in the dog house."  I say while leaving the room.


Sexy Ed 101 went well... but as for Sexy Ed 102?  I am hoping to make it another month... or two before that question surfaces.