Just Being Jack.....

Jack is curious. And independent. And quite creative. The other day I went looking for him in his bedroom. He heard me coming and started racing about cleaning up his forbidden activity. He knew he was doing something wrong. Yet he did it anyway. He said his Lion just really needed a haircut. He couldn't see his eyes anymore because it just was growing too long. I noticed there was a small bowl filled with water and a soft bristled brush under the belly of his animal. Lion colored fur was scattered about his paws. His hair was brushed downward in nice even strokes. I've explained various times that this particular lion will not have any regrowth. Jack doesn't believe me. I chose to smile and explain that I wasn't happy with his choice, but I'd like to take a picture of his work. He was very proud. Then I confiscated his scissors. They are on the fridge and he needs to ask before he uses them and to explain what they will be used for. I was actually breathing a sigh of relief at this whole scissors-hair-cutting situation because he chose to experiment on a non-living creature. His older sister chose her own hair to be her experiment when she was his age.

A few days ago Kennedy gave Jackson a dollar out of her piggy bank. She said it was because she felt like being nice. Shawn had to run a few errands and opted to take the two kids with him. While standing in line somewhere Jack pulled the dollar out of his pocket and said to Kennedy, "I have a GREAT idea. Let's share the dollar!"

Though he understands the concept of sharing, the concept of money is a little beyond his current ability.

Kennedy....

Isn't she cute? She wants the world to see her new boots.

Crack it....burn it.....almost better

Landon cracks me up lately. Everything he says makes me want to squeeze his little body with love. One of my favorites lately is when I put him into his crib. I say "goodnight. I love you Landon" and he responds with "Crack it. Craaaaack iiiiiit!" Which means he wants me to crack the door, not shut it tight. Funny boy. The other night I was tucking Ethan and Jackson into bed and Landon climbed into Kennedy's baby crib which happened to be on the floor in the boys room. As I kissed Ethan I heard Landon yelling "crack it!". Apparently he thought he was going to sleep in the teensy bed. Who wouldn't want to squeeze this little body?

Landon got a sinus infection last week. I figured it began because of the fungus growing inside the pacifier I partially sliced in an effort to break the habit. I decided I better boil the things to avoid future growth and to kill whatever had invaded. Hysteria insued while I was "cooking" the beloved fussers. I placed Landon on the counter next to the stove so I could explain what I was doing. He was fine when he realized I was just trying to help him and he'd get them back once they were clean. After 10 disinfecting minutes I removed the pot and drained it into the sink. Landon started to cry and I figured it was because he was trying to get down and couldn't. Actually, Kennedy informed me that he touched the burner. His three fingers on his right hand were already blistering. We had him soak them in water and then just watched them continue to blister. He just kept saying "wash it off. Fingers. Wash it off. Fingers." He didn't like the bubbles forming where his fingerprint once was. I felt horrible.

A funny conversation that ensued after the burning fiasco?

Me: Should we take him to the emergency room to see a doctor?

Shawn: Let's just ice it.

Me: What if it's 3rd degree burns?

Shawn: It's too early to tell.

Me: But don't you think we should let a doctor make that call?

Shawn: (calmly) I am a doctor.

Me: I know, but a doctor in the emergency room.

Shawn: (loudly pointing to himself) I AM a doctor!!

Me: Yeah, I know, but.......

Shawn: Jayne. He is fine.

All About Bees....

Today I took my kids to see "The Bee Movie". During the first 5 minutes I heard a quote. Ethan actually was the one that remembered it and repeated it to me on the way home. It was during a "bee" graduation ceremony mentioned by the speaker. "You've worked your whole lives to finally get to the point where you'll work your whole lives". This struck a chord with me. I thought about it throughout the entire movie. The movie is about a bee that discovers he doesn't want to just work the same job day after day the rest of his life. He leaves the hive, meets a human, becomes friends with her, and has a few adventures. He discovers that honey is sold by humans. He finds where the honey bees are kept and decides it is completely unjust so sues the humans. The bees win and they no longer have need to work as much as they once did. They have enough honey to live on for a while so the bees basically take a break. Blah, blah, blah.......everything dies because without the simple jobs of bees everything is screwed up. Moral of the story: every job is important, even if it's little and seems unimportant. This kind of sums up my life in it's current phase. I do the exact same job day after day after day. It often seems unimportant. Laundry, dishes, toilets, diapers, feeding, bathing, dressing, cooking, homework, bedtime. Start over. And over. And over again. Sometimes it just feels like everything I do is ridiculously mundane. But, who would do it if I didn't? This movie made me feel like all the little things I do everyday add up to one great thing in the end. (Hopefully it ends up with productive, healthy, well-balanced adults.) Someone the other day asked me if I worked. The exact way it was phrased was "Oh, so you don't work then?" Ya buddy, spend a day in my shoes before you judge who works and who doesn't. My work might not seem important, but it is. It is.

A Day of Thanks.....

For Thanksgiving we gathered with some friends at the local church building. There were about 25 in all with enormous amounts of food both brought and consumed. There were also enormous amounts of children running free in the cultural hall. It was weird to not have Shawn with me. I guess it shouldn't have been, I tend to frequent activities without him by my side. I decided it's because holidays are supposed to be different than any other ordinary day or event. He was missed.

Ethan said "Why are you taking a picture of this mom. It's normal for me to be eating. It's nothing special." Crazy boy. He's special to me. Even when he's eating.

Landon used his plastic knife to consume his dinner, which mostly consisted of pretzel jello salad. I think he thought he was doing something naughty because he's not allowed to touch knives at home. I wasn't about to complain. I got 5 minutes of peace to devour my own plate of food.

Kennedy socialized more than ate. Girls. She had a great time because for once she wasn't outnumbered by testosterone ridden boys. No pictures of Jack during mealtime. I caught him once with a roll on his head causing hysterical laughter to the boy next to him. I chose to pretend he wasn't my child. To take a picture of the event would have been reminding people he belonged to me.

What is an event held in a church house if you don't have free reign of the cultural hall? This table rack with swivel wheels was the hit event of the evening. They took turns standing on it, and spinning it. I was just hoping I wouldn't need to clean regurgitated dinner off the floor due to this activity.

I'm grateful for so many things I don't even know where to begin making a list. I guess I can just say I'm grateful for the life I have and all the people that I'm lucky enough to have in it with me.

Fire Station....

( To listen to the video and not the music, scroll to the bottom of the screen and push pause on the player)
Me and the boys took a tour of the local firestation last week. Jackson was the expert, because he'd been there before, and the fire truck came to his preschool earlier this year. He took time explaining everything to me in detail in case I didn't understand what the fireman was talking about. He also had his own insights:

He was pretty proud to put on the fire gear. Landon loved the giant trucks. All day he kept saying to himself "kire tation, kire truck, big" over and over. I guess that means the trip was successful.

Bucking Tradition.....

I'm sad. Sad because the realization that this holiday season is going to be anything but "traditional" for me. Shawn is working a 48 hour shift starting the morning of Thanksgiving. "We've got to pay for Christmas somehow". I've got people to be with, and food to eat, so I don't feel sorry for myself. Just sad that this year Shawn won't be around to enjoy it with. Which brings me to Christmas. All growing up my most favorite Christmas tradition was the opening of pajamas on Christmas Eve. My mom would always wrap them in different paper than everything else so she could find them when it came time to open them. Or, she'd put some kind of hidden marking somewhere so she knew secretly which ones held the pajamas. Every year we'd ask "what time are we opening our pj's mom?" Every year she'd reply "what makes you think you are getting any this year? Maybe I'm not doing that anymore." Sometimes she'd be sneaky and when it came time to open our one gift Christmas Eve she'd let us choose the gift. We'd pick whatever we wanted, open it, and assume this was that year. Except then she'd say, "okay. One more. But I get to choose." Even though there was little surprise to this tradition, it was always my favorite. Maybe it was the comfort of knowing my Mom was predictable and loved us enough to do the same thing year after year because she knew we loved it. Whatever it was, it's my most absolute favorite tradition ever. I even got pajamas every Christmas after I was married until we stopped going to Idaho to celebrate the holiday. Pretty much anyone that sleeps in my Mom's house Christmas Eve will open pajamas. Even though most of us our married. And my brother Matt is too tall to fit into anything picture worthy. Lovely tradition. That is why I'm sad. This tradition is not going to be at my house this year. It has been around since Ethan was little. Almost 8 years I've either made or bought new pj's for my kids to unwrap the night before Santa visits. This year I'm being practical. Ethan and Jackson are like furnaces at night and prefer to sleep in tighty-whities than anything else. Kennedy grows so fast she gets new pajamas often enough that there is no novelty. And Landon. His drawers are crammed with remnants of Christmas past. Why should I spend money on something my kids will wear one night, then never again. If I had excessive amounts of money this probably wouldn't be an issue. But I don't. Is it crazy for me to buck tradition on practicality? As I've made up my mind, and am typing this up, Kennedy walks in. I ask her what her most favorite tradition our family has every Christmas. Her response? "Opening presents. Like the pajamas we get on Christmas Eve." I'm secretly smiling that practicality cannot win out this year. It wouldn't be fair to yank a memory of childhood. My children seem to love this tradition as much as I did as a kid. Traditions. I guess the good ones aren't allowed to change.