Good Use of Time

It is only noon and so far today, I have:

1. Taken the boys on an adventure to Top Pot doughnuts

2. Worked outside weeding, and transplanting flowers from my grandma

3. Bathed 2 out of 3 of the boys

4. Read stories and had playtime

And it isn't even lunchtime yet!

It is amazing what one can accomplish when you get up before 8:00 a.m. I should try that more often.

Spiderman, Spiderman, Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman

Look Mom, I'm building a spider web.

That's great son, but I think you have enough tape.

No, Mom, I still need more.

I really think that is enough tape for the tree.

Oh, no, the web needs to be bigger.

Please give me the tape now.

No thanks, I am still using it.

I said, that was enough tape.

Mom, do you know Jack is upset?

I am pretty sure the whole street knows your brother is upset. It is pretty amazing the sound that can come out of such a little body.

Another day, another role of tape, another web to build.

Confession

We used to sing a song before communion each week about confession.

Confession, where do I begin.

Confession, it cleanses me within.

Or something like that. To be honest I don't really remember the words, just singing them over and over and over and over and well you get the point.

In the spirit of confession here is mine: I love to take naps.

There I said it. No more pretending that I am ultra busy during my boys' nap/rest time. No more skirting the truth by saying I was just sitting down, or resting for a few minutes. Nope, I was asleep. Drool on my face, pillow creases, asleep. As soon as 2:00 hits, if all is well with the world, the 2 younger boys will be asleep and the older boy will be in the playroom for 'quiet' time. I get my blanket, two pillows, close the blinds, turn on the space heater and lay down. One pillow for my head, one to cover my ears so I am not disturbed. My older son knows the routine now and will even pull the drapes for me. What a good son.

I have, unfortunately, fallen into such a deep sleep that I have missed appointments. Boys' last soccer class, yep, we only made it to the last 15 minutes. I used to have my husband call at 3:00 to wake me, but that is kind of embarrassing. Then I tried setting the timer on the stove. I slept through it going off for 45 minutes. After that I told my 4 year old son that if he hears the timer to come get me. Yeah, still didn't work. Now he tells me to not put the pillow on my head so I will hear the timer and remember to get up. Oh, dear.

Since we have started work on the baby's room, and have people in our house, I have not had my usual daily nap. I am missing it and longing for the day when it will return.

So, if you call between 2-3 do not expect me to answer the phone. If you call after 3, and I pick up and you ask "Did I wake you?". I will of course say "Oh, no I am much to busy to be sleeping in the middle of the day". Don't believe me. I was sleeping.

I have a whole list of things I could confess, from what books I really like to read to how much I am stalking you on Facebook, but for today that is enough. Not sure if the actual confession is making me feel better, or just remembering how much I love my naps. Oh to be a child again where people EXPECT you to nap each day!

A Pocket Full of Kryptonite

Okay, this post really isn't about pockets, or kryptonite, or even superman - well, not really. It is about boys though, specifically a van full of boys. Which as I was driving and creating this post (before I ran over some guys bike rim) I was thinking of a title that would fit and well that is what I landed on.

The point of this post is that today I had a brief glimpse into the rest of my life. Driving my awesome mini-van that was full of boys and listening to them talk.

"You are a stinky boy"

"No, you are a slinky boy"

"No, you are a doggie boy"

"No, you are a dirty doggie boy"

And so on and so on. Each statement of course followed by hysterical laughing. My two older boys, their friend that was over, and even the baby getting in on the action. I tried to hold on to each statement to remember, but they got slightly more silly and the boys were laughing so hard I could not even understand what they were saying.

I was just sitting in the front of the van thinking, "Is this what girls do on playdates?" I'm not sure, and won't ever really know (my childhood is fuzzy but I don't remember quite this type of play). Part of me was smiling at the total hilarity being provided by each others comments, another part was shuddering at the realization that this is it. This is my life. Driving my super van, full of silly boys, laughing and yelling. It isn't that I am desperate for a daughter, I am just adjusting to a life full of boys. Busy, active, crazy, fun, silly, determined, loving, sweet, boys.

As Jon and Kate used to say: It might be a crazy life, but it is my life.

What Makes Me Smile

On Valentine's Day my husband surprised me with flowers. The flowers were a nice surprise, the real gift was just going to the grocery store for me. I hate grocery shopping and for my husband to do it late Sunday night was a treat in itself. The flowers were sweet and I enjoyed looking at them on my table each day.

A week later the flowers were dead and as I was throwing them out my oldest son wanted to know why we couldn't keep them. I tried to explain that cut flowers in a vase only last a short time. Flowers outside can stay alive longer. He soon lost interest in the biology lesson and was off to a new game.

One Saturday a short time later, my husband took the two older boys to Home Depot. This was a Saturday where I was supposed to be watching the kids and my husband was supposed to be working on the bathroom. In the past we have done major house projects that involved my husband spending nights and weekends working. We did ok with that stage of life. But since the third boy came along, it has been harder to give up dad on the weekends. By Saturday both the boys and I are desperate for dad and begrudge any work he has to do. On this Saturday, I will confess I was not in the best of moods. One might say I was even a little cranky. My husband and I were not communicating in our usual stellar way and the boys may have picked up on the slight tension in the house.

As I sat waiting for them to return from Home Depot so I could go on the errands I had planned, I tried to think positive thoughts. Remember, all of this work brings you one step closer to moving Finn to his own room. It was mildly successful. Then I heard the door open and a little boy voice say, "Close your eyes, Mom!". I obediently closed them and waited to hear "Surprise!". When I opened my eyes my 4 (almost 5) year old son was holding a six pack of purple primroses. It was a complete surprise. As they walked through Home Depot, my son saw the flowers and told his dad they needed to buy some flowers. That would make mom happy, he said.

That very day we went outside and planted them. Two in our container on the porch and four under the weeping pussy willow tree. Everytime I open the door, or walk out to the car, or look out the window, I see these bright purple flowers. And everytime I smile.

This special boy did indeed make me happy.