Firsts

I have had a lot of firsts recently, and some, I hope, are onlys. Like chicken pox... twice.... after having vaccinations. Or camping....pregnant! A couple of weeks ago Micah had his first day of Kindergarten. After watching his mommy go through an inhumane amount of Kleenex leading up to the actual day, he sweetly requested on the way to his first day of class, that if I had to cry, I could only cry a few drops, after all he wouldn't' be gone too long and he would miss me too. This resulted in a whole box of used Kleenex.

His brother followed me around for the first week, asking me what I was doing, begging me to play dinosaurs with him, and pestering his little brother just to see if he could set a new record on how loud he could get him to scream. He informed me with exasperation one afternoon that he couldn't go play since he had no Micah's!

God smiled at me when I cried every day for the first week as I watched my little, tiny, big boy climb out of the car with his slightly too big backpack bouncing on his back, and head confidently into school. So to remind me why it really was a good thing that 5 year olds leave their mommy's for 3 or 4 hours every day to learn stuff they may or may not remember a year from now, he gave me a week of chicken pox.

As we spent the week disappointed about the school activities we were missing, watching a ridiculous amount of Veggie Tales, and breaking records on things to fight over, I found myself asking when he could go back to school and I could cry from missing him yet again.

Today I kissed my second boy as he looped his little back pack straps over his arms and headed off into the exciting new world of crayon wrappers and glue sticks. As he looked up at me and said "I'll really miss you mommy" I was convinced he was only making sure that he could squeeze tears out of me as efficiently as his big brother did.

The knock you over hug I got from him when I picked him up assured me that he really did miss me, and made me feel like all those spankings over looked, all those imaginary friends I brushed teeth for, every 20 goodnight kisses each night, were worth it.

My very wise mother assured me today that there really was no way of slowing time down, instead I needed to treasure every moment. I think I will take her advice as my 5 year old reminded me, that my 1 year old baby gets to go to preschool next!

Queen Me

Today I had pictures taken of my insides. In my insides was this squirming little human being! Little toes made themselves very familiar with a blob that was labeled "bladder", and little arms tried to come through my belly button. I have experienced this unique photo opportunity more than once in my life, but it never really loses its wonder.

The lady doing the ultrasound kept commenting on how active this little one was, and how big it was, things my bladder and ligaments really didn't want to hear! She commented on its head, heart, spine, kidneys and toes, before I finally looked at her and blurted out "yes, cute toes, what's between them???"

She responded with this shot, blown up nice and large on a TV screen for no one to miss.

"Oh that" was what came out of my mouth. You see this has been the very proud display of each of my tumbling intrauterine blessings.

My dear doctor who, just last visit was flipped off by my charming 4-year-old as he proudly displayed a hurt finger, asked me if I thought this one was displaying temperaments like that of any of my other boys. I think she wanted to be prepared for anymore surprise gestures when she opens me up to pull this trying-to-keep-up-with-my-big-brothers angel out.

Speaking of those big brothers, they have already discussed the benefits of 4 wii controllers for 4 brothers and who will win Mario Kart more often.

I think its safe to say they are cool with adding another male to their tribe, although Kyler has informed me that this addition can't have his dinosaur shirt since he plans to just keep stretching it so he never outgrows it.

I have been asked if I am disappointed. My answer is yes and no. I am disappointed that the great deal I got on the pink suede coat last year will now become a great shower gift (all you having girls, feel free to send me an invite to your showers; its adorable!) but I love how close my boys are to each other, and I can't think of a better way to grow up than having your best friends surrounding you and always there for you. Plus now I still get to pee in public by myself, and Kevin has to haul 4 boys into the stall and groan as they talk about how far they can pee and who stinks the worst loud enough for the restaurant next door to hear!

The Wonderful World of Boy

Before I had kids whenever I pictured myself being a mom I pictured myself being surrounded by cute little girls all in dresses, hair in bows and ribbons doing ballet, having tea parties and painting fingernails. Little girl giggles and princess stories and sweet flowery smells painted my senses. Its not that I didn't want boys, nor did I think I wouldn't have any, I just pictured these perfect little cherubs as my offspring. And then I had a boy...and another one....and another one.

My life has never been the same. Instead of dresses my laundry consists of dinosaur shirts and jeans with huge holes in them, even the brand new ones. The hair usually has sand and jelly in it, there is not a bow to be found in my house. Ballet is karate and tea parties have been replaced by food fights. There are, however, plenty of giggles especially at suspicious noises followed by smells that would wilt any flowers.

I must admit I have laughed more and rolled my eyes more and been more thankful than I ever have in my whole life, with these loud, dirty, rowdy treasures filling my home. My boys proudly display their bruises and scars and know exactly what happened to achieve them. They know who can pee the farthest standing at the top of the swing set. They have memorized all of their favorite dinosaur movies and wrestling is inevitable no matter how loud I yell to cut it out. This is one of my favorite descriptions of boys: Boy, n.: a noise with dirt on it. ~Not Your Average Dictionary

My typical day usually includes three spills, minimum, 5 episodes of my heart completely stopping in pure terror as I watch a child jump over the railing at the top of the stairs and pray he makes the 12 feet without breaking anything or as I try to figure out what went up the nose this time, or who is locked in the washing machine. It includes at least 5 lectures on why you can't take your swimming trunks off standing by the pool, on why you can't tell strangers I am not your mommy, on why you can't put anything other than DVD's in the DVD player just to name a few.

But my day always holds 5 or 6 sticky kisses, hugs that sometimes make me worry I won't be able to turn my head for days, and "I love you's" in all shapes and sizes. It includes compliments, like "you look like a princess" and "your just as fun as daddy is!" And when my kid is wearing the goalie jersey and is picking his nose letting the soccer ball fly over his head into the goal I couldn't be prouder or love life more no matter that there are no tutu's or Swan Lake.

True my dreams of shopping trips and pedicures, have been replaced with the rodeo and baseball games, movie night will probably never hold romantic comedies, and I will have to learn how to handle the countless ulcers that come with the amazing daring adventures my boys set out on. I can't wait to see what tomorrow holds! Who knows, there might be bows in my future yet....

Is that a giant octopus in my bathtub?

When I became a mom my goal was to be the best mom ever. Oh and never ever yell. After a while my goal became to be a very good, above average mom and only yell when it was a very serious situation. After I had my second son, my goal became to be a good mom and I left out any and all yelling goals. My goal has evolved into "keep them alive" and it would be a bonus if they left home with all appendages still attached with minimal life long marks on their bodies. Oh and don't lose my voice from yelling more than twice a week.

Every once in a while, I have been accused of being paranoid, but lets face it, these people weren't there the time my then 3-year-old managed to almost drown in swim class, or had to dig french fries, peanuts, or legos from body parts, or been in the urgent care because a toilet caused a lost fingernail, or dancing broke a foot. My children have a unique and uncanny ability to create very reasonable circumstances for paranoia. Even my last unborn child managed to work his cord into a knot which could have created any number of complications, not one productive to my goal of keeping him alive. So I may be guilty of imagining giant caterpillars snatching my children up, or worrying about a meteor shower over my house, or having an exit plan if giant bees suddenly invaded my vehicle while we were in it.

Thankfully I have been lead to or stumbled across countless number of very practical and helpful resources that have given me courses of action or information that I can put to use in my goal of keeping my children alive. There are to many to put into a blog, to many anyway to keep anyone's attention and prevent them from falling asleep and smashing their head into their computer screen, but I have been asked about these resources by my amazing mommy friends who have somehow managed to learn how to lose their voice from screaming much less than I have, and have decided to highlight a few of my favorites here.

The first one is the one that helped ease my fears of an invisible suit being invented and my children being kidnapped before my very eyes by an invisible bad guy. "Protecting the Gift" by Gavin de Becker

I highly recommend this book to all parents. Its very practical and actually helps you eliminate fears instead of creating new ones (a myth that kept me from reading this book for a while). Now I feel confident in having plans if alien lifeforms in the form of my children's friends tried to brainwash them; ok so he doesn't actually cover that exact scenario....

The next one, though somewhat controversial in my circle of friends is still one I think all parents need to read, even if they decide to follow the typical recommended timeline for child vaccinations. I believe its our job to at least stay informed on how to protect our children from illnesses and protecting them from the various forms of protection against illness. The book is "The Vaccine Book" by Dr. Robert W. Sears.

My first two kids had very few side effects from vaccinations, therefore I never thought twice about giving them whatever my doctor recommended. When Caleb was born he had every single side effect. The nurse would tell me, "oh don't worry only like 1 in a gajillion babies has this reaction." and later that day I was calling the nurse to let her know she was safe for the next gajillion kids since my kid was the 1! My doctor has been 100% supportive in letting me choose which vaccines to give when and I am so thankful for that!

The last one that I will talk about here is "The Minds of Boys" by Michael Gurian.

This book is awesome for parents of boys. I tend to believe that my children are rare little geniuses, but I still worry about what might happen if it turns out that the time my husband dropped the baby down the stairs at 2 month old left permanent damage, or if the son that thinks glue sticks can double as suckers can't remember that C always comes after B. This book is awesome in promoting a learning environment as early as in the womb. It has great tips on getting your child in the right schools and institutions, how to handle problems, even what foods are best for breakfast so boys can focus better in the classroom. Again a very practical book that can offer some reasonable information and action plans for making sure your boys succeed in becoming all they can be.

There are so many more wonderful resources out there, and if you have some that you recommend let me know. Currently I am still searching for books on selective hearing, how to be a millionaire as a stay-at-home-mom instead of broke, and any books on remedies for getting your voice back quick. Who knows I might end up writing a book on proper Urgent Care decorum!

How did that Happen?

When I was a kid I had somewhat of a reputation for finding my way to every emergency room in every city I happened to be in. My husband is not unfamiliar with bumps bruises, and holes in his shins that go clear to the bone either.

We have found ourselves parents to three boys who seem to have inherited our ER gravitating genes. In May we found ourselves hauling our 4 year-old to Urgent Care after his brother slammed his finger in the toilet. We were excited to learn that we were the first toilet injury in there that day, even though we couldn't save the nail.

This weekend held adventures of high fevers and diarrhea which allowed us to visit our old friends staffing the Urgent Care yet again.

Settling in for a long and boring week, which I looked forward to with enthusiasm, my plans were thwarted with a fall from our 4 year-old who must of gotten a double dose of our genes and some we didn't know existed. Dancing in the middle of the unusually clean living room he toppled over himself and screamed as if the world had come to an end.

As there may also be a few genes in the drama department residing in one or more of us, we threatened him that if he didn't stop the banshee wails we would send him over to the neighbors yard that has a hound dog that sounds much worse at 5am than any injured 4 year old could, and really has it coming to them.

The next morning the child still wouldn't walk and feeling a little guilty for not listening to his wails that his foot was broken and he would never walk again and he might die, I made my very familiar way back to Urgent Care.

The technician who casted my son's broken foot came into the room, dubbed my son the toilet kid, which said kid found kind of cool, and promised to keep a room open for us for the next bizarre mishap we happened to find ourselves in.

Today I found myself wearing my tires thin as I drove all over the city searching for someone who had a boot the size of my tiny child so I wouldn't have to endure a cast for 6 weeks, but the highlight of my day had to be when I realized they made children's Motrin in 8oz bottles instead of just 4oz. I bought two just to be safe.

Tonight I breathed a sigh of relief as bedtime was less than an hour away when my 5 year-old came to me asked, "Mom, what would happen if you stuck a finger nail up your nose?" That child is sitting with a Kleenex trying to get the fingernail out and bedtime will not happen on time yet again.

Be Fruitful.....

I started this blog so pumped about getting to do two of my most favorite things; write and talk about my crazy offspring. I wrote 3, yes 3 whole blogs! My excuses for my inconsistency included all of the laundry my fabulously curious 4-year-old created in the backyard mud hole, the urgent care visit my accident prone 4-year-old generated, the crazy conversations my 4-year-old started with surprisingly interesting strangers in the grocery store, and then all of the antics of my logical and intelligent 5-year-old, and the mischief of my independent 1-year-old. My biggest excuse, however, became known at the end of April.

My dear husband was woken from a deep sleep by me leaning over him whispering, "I'm pregnant." He didn't believe me, but after he saw the evidence himself, he looked at me and said, "We really need to figure out what keeps causing this!"

So in between craving potatoes and popcorn, and running towards the bathroom if anyone even mentions hamburger, I have answered questions about how daddy really got the seed in there, and have ended fist fights after a tooth became loose, and forced children to eat 8 marshmallows with 1 bite out of each, even if the first bite is the best, and I have run myself ragged chasing an amazingly fast baby who takes for granted that you can jump from the top step and expect someone to be at the bottom of the next 18 to catch you every time.

My youngest will be physically joining us around the 29th of December, already proving that it has a very unique mind of its own whether it fits with my plans of NO CHRISTMAS BABIES or not. Kevin thinks this indicates a girl attitude, but I know just how charming little boys can be and tend to think more testosterone will soon be residing in my already boyfabulous home. Stay tuned to see who will win the gender pot.....

New Friends Are Golden

My pediatrician’s office walls are beige, the pattern of the floor is squares and they have a calendar that has a dog on it still on October. It takes approximately 7 minutes for the doctor to come in and approximately 40 minutes to two days for Walmart to fill a prescription. The nurses who answer the phones now get worried if I haven’t called that day and they are thinking about putting up a parking space with a sign that says “the mother solely responsible for keeping us in business and paying our electricity bill each month, parking.”

Last weekend, I had one child who I had restricted their diet to anything that doesn’t stain on the way back up, one who emptied every Kleenex box in 2 1/2 hours flat, and one on antibiotics for an ear infection. Our goal was to enjoy a nice calm weekend in the mountains since we have been so busy we have forgotten which children are ours and if that cat in the front yard belongs to us or the neighbors.

I must admit to some anxiety at the fact that the little mountain town had no hospital, therefore no ER, since I had visited our fine Emergency establishment only days before leaving and the pediatricians office 4 times after that. But my reasoning was, they have already gotten everything known to man and even discovered new strains of monkey, pig, and squirrel viruses in my children, we should be covered. The second day there my two youngest developed strange rashes, but I took care of that by making sure they always had their clothes on and I could pretend the red pimple looking bumps didn’t exist. I couldn’t ignore, however, the two new teeth my 5 month old to the day, proudly displayed during a particularly painful nursing.

We got home and hit the floor running. It was back to school, and work and timeouts for Legos in the ears. I kept noticing that the bumps weren’t going away on my kids’ backs and legs, and when they began to turn into little sores, I gave up my three day streak with no calls to my doctor and dialed their number by heart. The guy answered the phone and asked me how my meatloaf had turned out the other night, and I asked after his grandmother and we agreed that my van was looking rather dirty on my last visit to the office, exchanged Thanksgiving recipes and travel tips.

He asks me to describe the rash in detail so I do, downplaying it as much as I dared praying that he wouldn’t send me back to the doctors office or heaven forbid Walmart for a prescription thats harder to get than getting your phone service hooked up. “Ma’am its very clear what your children have” which is code for “your an idiot, next please” “OK what is it?” I ask the highly intelligent genius on the other line. “Chickenpox” “Na uh they had their shots” I reply.

Turns out my children had the chickenpox, nurse know-it-all was right. My oldest is sulking today because he doesn’t have cool dots all over his body and I am in an exhausted trance after my midnight grocery shopping trip I made last night. (Turns out your not supposed to take your child to every known public establishment when they have the chickenpox)

But on the upside the nurse and I exchanged chickenpox stories which lead to birthday party stories which lead to thanksgiving stories. As I hung up with her I said “same place and time tomorrow.” Gotta love new friends!