Saturday, January 31, 2009

Song to make you cry (but in a good way, in a good way).

If you scroll down to the bottom of my page, I have a thingamajigger there that will play a song for you. Hubby found this song right after Middleboy was born. Oldestboy was 2 1/2 at the time, and if you listen to the words, you'd think it was written for that specific moment in time.
So,"Thank you Elton John", and not just for making big sunglasses cool.


PILATES. pi-lah-teez. n. A form of exercise developed by Joseph Pilates in the late 20th century that enables the human ovary to be moved 4 inches from where God originally placed it.

Hypothetical question...

Let's say some terrific mom has this kid (oh, 4 years old or so) who insists on eating sugar cookies for breakfast. Now, "terrific mom" knows that this isn't the most nutritious choice her beloved child could make, however "beloved child" is whining and pitching a fit at 8am.

Does "terrific mom" lose her terrific status if she gives in...rationalizing that sugar cookies are pretty much the same as Pop Tarts??

I thought so too.

Naming the kids?

I was in bed last night, enjoying a 4 year-old's little toes in my side, and thinking "How am I going to say these kids' names, without actually using their names?" If you have teenagers, you understand that humiliation via the internet is fairly low down on their list of faves...somewhere between having mom chatting with their friends on Facebook (which I do) and their dad flirting with the girl that sells perfume at Christmas (actually happened, they came home mortified...hubby was in hysterics).

Hubby is a whole different subject.

My boys all have a first name that starts with "J", and all have the same middle name too (I know, SO creative, aren't we?) so calling them by their initials would be ridiculous. "And then, JM told JM, that JM threw his homework in the trash."

So here's my solution...the 17 year-old will be Oldestboy, the 14 year-old will be Middleboy (setting him up for therapy later), the 7 year-old will be Littleboy, and the 4 year-old is officially Babyboy.

Confused? So am I, on a daily basis.

Friday, January 30, 2009

A day in the life...

Today was going to be my day to get started on my wax poetically about the challenges and triumphs of being a mother to 4 boys. I had big plans for explaining how I manage to stay sane, while imparting a sense of love and kindness to my children.

...that's all gone out the window.

While sitting here my 7 year-old quietly snuck in behind my chair, and stood there...waiting for me to ask him "What's up?" I finally asked the needed question, after realizing he would win this waiting game..and got this response: "You know how sometimes uh, Baby Boy likes for me to push him down on the ground when we are playing 'James Bond'?"

Now, think about that question..."You know how my brother likes me to push him down..."
"No, son, I don't think that I knew your brother liked for you to push him down on the ground..."

Anyway, he continued..."Yeah, uh, well, he wanted me to push him down and, uh, I did, and he's crying in your room now...but he wanted me to do it, Mom."

"Tell your brother to come see me." (Keep in mind, still trying to think peaceful, loving, motherly thoughts.)

The 4 year-old comes in, tears streaming..."MOM!! HE PUSHED ME DOWN ON THE GROUND!" 7 year-old "BUT YOU WANTED ME TO!!!" "NO, MOM!!! NO, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO PUSH ME!!!" "YES YOU DID, YOU TOLD ME TO PUSH YOU DOWN!!" "NO!!" "YES!!!"

At this point, my loving, motherly response flows from my lips..

"Both of you get out of my office, and get your butts to bed."

And so it goes....