Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bubbles and Booty, oh my!

I knew it was a matter of time before the cute words and phrases my little language learners were speaking would cross into questionable territory.  And seeing as my years of teaching high school have given me appreciation for juvenile humor, I am finding it difficult to keep a straight face most of the time. 

It started with an innocent snack.  I purchased a bag of "Pirate Booty." It is a natural, baked corn snack with cheddar cheese.  Although to be fair, I am fairly certain they are laced with some sort of crack (I kid), because the boys are addicted to them.  I am talking drawn out fits serious tantrums if the supply of Booty is depleted. 

G-Man toddled over to me with his snack cup, and I was well aware of his upcoming request for more.  I was not prepared for him to ask for "Booby." That is correct.  Not Booty, but Booby.  And naturally, E-Dude follows up by chanting "Booby, Booby, Booby!" ( I told those darn things were addictive)

I choked back the laughter, because let's be honest, the word booby is just funny.  Then I said, "Do you need more BooTy?" (I made sure to emphsize the T).  In response, both boys happily chortled, "More, More Booby."  

Sigh.  Guess we need more work on that one.

But the escapades of boydom do not end there.  During bath time, G-Man let loose with some significant toots, that naturally led to bubbles arising in the water. 

"See bubbles?"
"Yes, honey, those are bubbles.  Did you toot?"
"See toot stinky?"
"Yes, toots are stinky.  Say Excuse me?"
"'Scuse me."

Then the fun began.  I watched G-Man start tensing up and bearing down, as he attempted to make more bubbles in the water.  Bubbles with his butt.  And oh my, when those bubbles hit the surface, did they smell BAD!  Of course, both boys found this hilarious, and E-Dude began trying to make his own bubbles.

With enormous belly laughs, my bathroom became a toxic methane zone.

Oh boys ;)

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Love you, Too!

Another one of those things they don't tell you about having children?  "They" tell pregnant women to expect hormones and crying.  They DON'T tell you that the capacity to cry at the silliest things does NOT stop after pregnancy.  In fact, it gets worse as your children grow.

This is not a trait my formerly not prone to crying self has embraced.  I am not a fan and welcome any suggestions as to how to stop the useless and random waterworks that refuse to cease. Movie I have seen hundreds of times?  Cried.  Touching Commercial?  Bawled.  Sappy song (especially that one about Dancing with Cinderella?)  Oh yes, torrents of tears.  What the heck?

Big secret?  Sometimes, the tears are warranted tears of joy.

G-Man has recently begun stringing his words together to communicate more.  In the past few days he has said "Watch This!"  and "You try it!" while he was playing a game.  His chattering is increasing and he is quickly becoming a little boy with a silly personality.  Every day brings something new he says, some new phrase or thing he can effectively communicate.

It seems like it happened overnight.  From single words and pointing to coherent phrases with meaning.  My little man is getting so big, and right when I can feel the parental tears of pride itching at my eyes, it happens.

Tucking the Monkeys into bed.

"Night, Night Boys.  I Love you."

G-Man's precious voice, "Love You, too!"

Anyone have a tissue for me?

Friday, February 17, 2012

Joyful Interlude

The other night as we sat at the dinner table, the mood was light and silly.  Our little E-Dude led Grace, which is to say he mumbled the words "Bless us O, Lord..gibberish, gibberish, AMEN!" Which has become quite the joke between my husband and myself.  How they both love to say their prayer, but get very excited about uttering the word AMEN!

As in...look at all I remembered, AMEN.

Silliness ensued as a result.  E-Dude has been on a kick of not eating pasta in any form, so was promptly feeding his to the dog, while G-Man kept asking for more.  I gave E-Dude my best teacher look of disapproval to which he responded with a grin and a side tilt of his head.  I shook my head at him and his grin grew wider as he began to imitate my actions, right down to a pronounced pucker in his little face.

How can you not laugh at that?   I did the Mommy part and took away the food to the dismay of the circling dogs.  But then we giggled and played as a family.  Head shakes and tilts, silly voices, and laughter all around.

Little things that make you whole.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Candy Vents from Sugar Highs

I have never been a fan of Valentine's Day.  Call it cranky memories of a single girl surrounded by couples all " Atwitter" from Valentine's Day.  Or better yet, call it the bitter reminiscence of a former restaurant worker.  If ever there was a less conceived notion of romance, it is that of a dinner date on February 14 in a restaurant interested only in getting your table turned over for the next guests.

Normally when this day of flowers, cards, and candy arrives, I brush it off with an annoyed wave of my hand combined with some snarky comments.  Admittedly, I get fairly vocal about a holiday created by corporations in order to sell their wares.  And right up until this year, I didn't really think about how I was going to deal with the holiday, its silliness, and my kids.

The boys attend an in-home daycare and last week we received a lovely email containing names of all the kids in case we wanted to participate in Valentine's.  There would also be a celebration...with sweets. 

As if we aren't bombarded by massive amounts of sugar daily.  Then throw Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's, and Easter in the mix and our kids are exposed to sugar overdose.  I'm not opposed to an occasional treat, but I lean towards pushing fruits as their yummy sweetness, not chemically combined factory concoctions. 

But...the boys are two, and that makes zero sense to them.  So I bought the cute little cards with temporary tattoo and dropped them off. 

After my own candy comatose teenager filled day, I returned to pick up two very excitable little boys.  They only had a short nap, followed by cookies and a cupcake.  As a result, they were bouncing all over the place.  And mad because they could not have more.Their "Valentine" bags were filled, not just with cards, but ridiculous amounts of candy from the other parents.

Seriously?  Most of these kids are 2.  Why  make a baggie of candy/junk for kids? Again, not opposed to a lollipop here and there, but we are talking about candy that made our Halloween haul look sad.  I admit that I don't do cutesy or crafty, but why go over the top with toddlers?  Why not a little cardboard card that came from a box and leave it at that?

I am thankful the other parents are giving and kind, because they love their kids and they want to be sweet to all the toddlers.  It just saddens me that we get so caught up in a contrived holiday and confuse love with copious amounts of candy and sweets.  As the boys grow, it is going to become increasingly difficult to fight this tidal wave of unnecessary consumerism.

I hope to be able to teach them that love is something you demonstrate every day.  Little things are the best way to express your love, and if you can't do that throughout the year, one silly holiday isn't going to cut it.   Love, and expressing your love, is more than a bag of candy.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Boy Drama And Panicked Mommy

As if the glue spot on E-Dude's marred little forehead weren't enough drama for the week, about 24 hours later we had drama with G-Man. I told you they were plotting against me.

G-Man started crying at about 10pm, which isn't terribly unusual.  He gets scared and I think he dreams quite a bit, so one of us often goes in to snuggle him and calm him down.  As soon as I stepped into the nursery, G-Man was running inside his crib reaching up for me.  I picked him up and sat down to rock him when I realized he was burning up.


 I scooped him up and set him into a tub filled with lukewarm water.  As you can imagine, that did not make the poor guy happy.  He obviously had the chills and was wailing beyond all belief, his tiny fingers clutching my arm as he cried out "Mommy!" in a voice that nearly made me cry along with him.  His temperature was just over 101, so we gave him some Motrin, and let him go back to sleep.

Meanwhile I put in for an absence and emailed sub work to my fantastic co workers as I set the alarm for 3 hours later to check G-Man's temp.  2am came quickly, and of course, Griffin was still sporting a fever.  We piggybacked some Tylenol and I sat up with him until his temperature came down a bit.  Repeat alarm clock setting.

At 5:45 little man was crying and I pulled him from his crib to realize he was just burning up.  103.3 and back to the tub.  I could see his little limbs twitching in the water, and I gave myself a calming pep talk in order to brace myself for what was likely to come.

Last May, E-Dude had a febrile seizure due to fever.  It was the most horrible thing I have ever seen and I did not handle it remotely well.  Despite having seen students and friends have seizures, I was completely unprepared to see one in my little boy.  It lasted a few minutes, but felt like an eternity.  The Urgent Care we brought him to did a fantastic job of tending both to him and his overwrought parents.

Needless to say, I have lived in constant fear of fevers since that day.   And here was my G-Man, with the tell tale twitches in his legs.  The water brought his temperature down a little bit and I gave him another dose of Motrin.  We settled in on the couch as I waited for some more reduction in his fever. 

At 7, DH was leaving for work and gave me a pep talk similar to the one I had given myself only a few minutes earlier.  Stay calm, Keep him safe, get him to the doctor, and call.

It wasn't 10 minutes later when little man tensed up, eyes rolled back in his head, and tiny hands clenched into fists.  G-Man fought against the seizure the whole time, as I rubbed his head and told him it was okay, and that Mommy was there.  I grabbed the watch to time it and prayed it would pass quickly.

Thankfully, it ended as quickly as it began, and both dogs worriedly sniffed at their small charge.  G-Man was disoriented and sleepy, but that is a common response after a seizure.  I worked on auto pilot after that.  Got all 3 of us dressed and into the car, got to the Urgent Care, Called DH.  By then, G-Man was chattering and playing with his camera, just like himself, even if he was a bit wobbly.

Diagnosis?  Possible start of pneumonia as determined by an X-Ray.  We had to give medicine around the clock to treat the fever aggressively and he started some Zithromyecin. 

It was strange to watch him throughout the day as he played and laughed.  I know he has already forgotten about it, even if I never well.

And they still didn't offer me complimentary Valium.  Surely I earned it this time! ;)

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Holey Heads and The Joy of Surgical Glue

There is a good chance that my twins are secretly devising a plot to put me in an early grave.  A surefire way to throw a woman into panic mode is the ear splitting shriek of her obviously injured child.

E-Dude was happily using me as a jungle gym climbing over me when he lost his footing and stumbled headfirst into the corner of our wooden coffee table.  This is not terribly unusual, as the boys have a general knack for smacking their noggins against the borders of the ottoman style table.  This time, however, the cry E-Dude let out set every hair of my body on edge, and I knew this wasn't the ordinary head bump.   I pulled his hands away from his head in time to see a steady stream of blood pool out from the wound.

Thankful it wasn't his, eye, I scooped him up and placed him on a kitchen counter to attempt to stop the bleeding and determine the severity of the wound.  A Voice of Reason in the back of my head reminded me that head wounds have a tendency to bleed quite a bit, which helped me keep focus on my little dude.  Not that he was going to make it easy on me.  Already hurting, he had no intention of letting me hold a cloth against his sore little head, even if it meant I was helping.

After some fantastic acrobatics with the paper towel, I was able to get the bleeding to slow to a lethargic ooze.  And there it was.  A gaping puncture in his forehead.  Certainly not fixable with a band-aid and Neosporin.  A trip to the urgent care...and my husband was not home yet.  Oh joy.

I called my husband and in very stressed tones let him know what happened and where we would be.  My hands were shaking as I searched for the new insurance card (I Swear I had put it in my purse) and I could feel the panic well up inside of me.   That lovely voice in my head popped up again to remind me that if I got upset, it would upset the boys, and that was a situation I could ill afford.  So, I put on my happy face and said "Are you ready to go in the car?"

Just like that, E-Dude stops crying and says "Car?"

G-Man, clearly excited to go on an adventure, picked up my purse, slung it over his shoulder and said, "Let's go car!"    If I hadn't been so intent on getting us to the Urgent Care, I would have laughed at his cuteness.  In fact, the picture of it in my head is downright amusing.  I am in awe at his ability to take things in stride.

Despite the wound in his head, E-Dude chattered to me about the various items in the sky and the flash of his Mickey Mouse camera as I loaded the boys into the car and took the short jaunt to our local urgent care.  Quickly, the fantastic staff got us inside and had someone checking us out.  DH arrived a few minutes later to keep an eye on G-Man who was happily playing with the toy I had brought to distract him while we tended to his brother.

Certain the urgent care was going to make the call to CPS right then and there, I relayed what had happened and the doctor checked to see if the wound needed stitches or glue.  Having once heard a small child scream as he got stitches in his head, I was fervently praying for the latter.   And answering my desperate prayer, the doctor confirmed that glue would work nicely.

Thank Heavens for Quickly Answered prayers in your favor!

They did put numbing gel on the spot, which did not go over well with E-Dude.  Then our nurse came in, who turned out to be a mom of one of the boys at our daycare (small world!).  She was awesome with the little man, but he was intently watching the doctor as the doctor administered the glue on the wound.  It was so funny that even the Doctor commented on how E-Dude was watching him closely.

As a bit of a reward, the boys got to stay up until an hour after bed time to give the glue time to dry so we were able to put a band aid on the wound.  By then, E-Dude had gotten his second wind and was talking away and jumping around as if he had never been injured.

He is doing great.  I, however, would have appreciated it if the doctor had prescribed me a sedative ;)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Bath Time Surprise!

This had all the makings of such a fun post to brag on my silly boys.  It was bath time, which is a favorite past time around here.  We have all sorts of bath toys and the boys love playing in the water. Not unlike a horror movie, a perfectly normal and happy bath time can take an interesting turn.

E-Dude got his shoes off and managed to get his pants pulled down without assistance.  G-Man got stuck with the pants, but in his defense, blue jeans are tough.  We discussed the differences between Hot (boys blowing on the water as if trying to cool it down) and Cold (BRRRRRRR!).  E-Dude showed me how to scoop, scoop, scoop with his hands to demonstrate how we swim.  G-Man got brave and showed how to blow bubbles in the water.

That in itself was a triumphant moment.  We took the boys to Parent and Baby pool classes last summer, and while they loved the water, didn't truly get the concept of kick, scoop, and blowing bubbles.  Now, they are all too happy to demonstrate their skills.  Kicking leads to quite the mess of water, but how can I get angry with such joy?

All was well with the bath as we moved on to washing our body parts with soap and playing with our Yo Gabba Gabba squirty toys.   E-Dude Finally figured out that if he tilted his head way back, the soap wouldn't get into his eyes when Mommy rinsed out the shampoo.  (Score! Another Victory for my man!)

Everything was moving along as it usually did.  I drained the tub of water and started to dry off E-Dude.  G-Man hangs in the tub as the water drains away and plays with his toys for a few minutes.   E-Dude was dried, pajama clad, and ready to go see Daddy before bedtime.  G-Man tried to stand up in the tub which is a big no-no.  I reached for him and him for me, surprised that he wanted to give up his play time so quickly.

Then the tears started.  I looked into the tub as the last bits of water drained away from the large brown mass that had no business in the pearly white tub.  Oh...crap.  Literally.  And not the kind that would easily wash down the drain.  My Munchkin was obviously upset and I talked soothingly to him as I quickly washed him once again to get all of the foreign substance off his sweet little body.  I told him (and myself) that it was okay, that the tub was the best spot if it had to happen, that he didn't have to be so upset.

I meant everything I said to him and watched him happily pad down the hallway to see his dad.  Staring at the mess before me, I sighed and grabbed the disposable rubber gloves someone had once bought for us as a joke.  (They have now come in handy on several occasions)  Armed with gloves and some Clorox, I disposed of the offending grossness with minimal disgust.

Didn't really want to watch the Super Bowl Halftime show, anyway.


This is the stuff they don't tell you!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

My Word For The Year

Should probably be procrastinate, since most other bloggers came up with theirs a month ago ;).  Thankfully, the peeps over at My One Word encourage mulling it over throughout January and going full force in February.  Between them and One Word 365, I have been really praying over the concept of choosing ONE word to work on for the year.

It is so much more difficult than I could have imagined.  There are many, many things I could and should work on...prayer, faith, surrender, obey,quiet, service and so on.  I prayed on it, talked to God about it.  And...didn't really think I had heard anything.  So I started to focus on Love.  I have been reciting Mark 12:29-31 before prayer and have really taken to heart the multiple definitions of love.  (“The first of all the commandments is: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. This is the first commandment. And the second, like it, is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.”)

Let's be honest, I fail miserably at loving my neighbor as myself.  When I honk at the driver in front of me for going 10 miles below the speed limit, I guarantee that is not how I want to be treated.  Or when I snap at a co- worker because they have irritated me...definitely not showing the love there.  Never mind that the word didn't really 'click' with me.  It seemed that a years worth of lessons from God on love was more appealing than some of the alternatives.  

I was all set to write this post on all the ways I could improve the 'Love' in my life.  And then God intervened, in the typical smack me upside the head fashion that will prove to be the ONLY way I will pay attention.  I was reading my Bible one evening when the word Humble popped into my head.  I felt something stir inside of me, and then dismissed the notion.  Little did I know that a lesson was forthcoming.

It started with an email from a co worker.  He hasn't worked closely with me and was checking on paperwork progress for a meeting we had.  Not being a huge fan of 'reminders' and already being irritated at being notified last minute for a meeting which required copious amounts of paperwork and student testing, I sent back a curt little nasty gram.  Oh yes, and then I discussed with my my nearest friends and felt pretty proud of myself.

It wasn't too long after I sent the email that I began to feel guilty.  The poor man has had to deal with people who are not competent, who conveniently 'forget' what they are supposed to do, and like I said, he hasn't worked with me much.  Stubborn woman that I am, I kept on with my day, and the worse the guilt became.  Then the words "Be humble, be humble, be humble," played repeatedly in my head.  And then I realized where the message was coming from.

Face Palm. 


With embarrassment at my behavior, I marched myself into my co worker's office and apologized with just enough volume for anyone in the vicinity to hear.  (Not like the story wasn't going to be repeated after I left, might as well save him the trouble of retelling.) He was very kind and gracious, and we chatted pleasantly for a few minutes.  Ugh, I was squirming.

And then...an apology from the individual who sent me the late meeting notice.  Crap...I had been rather vocal about that one as well.

I am not going to pretend I am looking forward to these lessons.  Lessons that are going to require me to lay down my pride so that I truly can Love my Neighbor.  Pride and I have always had a close relationship.  It is going to be hard to kick it out the door.

In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't even want to make this post.  But that is the point isn't it?  To pick a word to challenge you to change. I still don't really want to do this.  

As if I have a choice....

Wish me luck!

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