Jack turns 4!

Today is this little dudes Birthday....

He wanted an orange cake with orange frosting and lots of sprinkles.

He loves all things orange. He loves his orange cowboy shoes. And all things Monster Truck. All fast cars. And all things Superhero. He also loves to line up his fast cars in a pretty fashion....he is my son.

We are off to celebrate! Happy Birthday little Buddy! We love you!

Happy Wednesday.

Friday Funny

This is a photo of our family last year at a parade....I think it was the Homecoming parade for our tiny little town of twelve (okay, there is more than twelve, but sometimes it feels like it.)

I know it's tiny, I can't make it bigger. The point is to look at what I am holding....Batman. He wears a costume at least once a week....batman, spiderman, transformer, you name it, he wears it. That is classic in and of itself.

But I can do better....

Me: Jack, you are one smart little dude.

Jack: I know. I hear that a lot.

Me: You do huh?

Jack: Yeah. I should tell Daddy that shouldn't I?!

Classic Jack. He turns 4 next Wednesday. He wants an orange cake with orange frosting and lots of colored sprinkles. That means I get to make Ex-Boyfriend Carrot Cake. YES!

Jack.

This kid. Wowzer.

We had the following conversation the other day.

Jack: How come we can't hear God?
Me: You have to listen very carefully....(Silence).
Jack: I heard him! He said I didn't have to eat my lunch.

Love him.

Jack's first day.

This is Jack. He likes chips and fast cars. He likes to wear cowboy shoes with shorts. He has the best facial expressions on any person I have ever met in my entire 34 years. Honest to goodness. Greatest.

He started pre-school yesterday.

He thinks he's all big and cool like his brother. 

He is.

This is me. 

I'm crying (but not in this picture. Here I'm peeing my pants.)

I'm sad. 

I can hardly stand it.

If only my boys would stop growing up, then I wouldn't have to either. 

And I could hold them and cuddle them and not worry about buying three gallons of milk a day because if they continue to grow they will each be drinking a gallon a day. 

Lord help me.

Did I mention I need another?

Lemonade 25 c

So, most of the neighborhood kids have had a lemonade stand. Well, the boys had had enough. They were ready. They wanted to do one too.

Nevermind that they can't read. Or add. Or pour something for themselves. And they often get shy around strangers....Nevermind those facts. Neveryoumind.

They asked me to make them cookies to sell too. 

They drank and ate their profit. 

But, they made a whole dollar. 

They were so proud.

Don't they look proud?

 

I even made them a sign. They were so excited!

But then, because it was so hot, we went inside to cool off. Jack decided to do this, again:

And I laughed. Then we ate this:

Ha! Look at that kid! 

Avoiding bedtime...

And so the saga of God continues....

The other night while tucking the boys into bed, we had our nightly ritual of them asking questions to avoid going to sleep and me answering their questions to get them to go to sleep. That night was a good one.

Jack: Where's God?

Porter: In heaven.

Jack: Does he drive a mocercycle?

Porter: No....there aren't any roads in Heaven.

Jack: What? That's crazy.

Porter: They are tend roads. (As he is swerving his arms around and around like he's driving on a road).

Jack: Soooo....he does drive a mocercycle?

Porter: A tend motorcycle...

Tiny t-ball

Jack had his first t-ball practice on Monday night.

Things were a little.....crazy.....

And nothing was really accomplished, but Jack sure looks cute in a t-shirt and hat....

We're so vain.

The other day the boys helped me take this mirror from this:

Okay, HORRIBLE photo. But you get the idea. Beadboard in the background for the unfinished bookshelf and hutch (that has no home because we moved the desk!). Changing table, dresser and mirror in the reflection of the gold mirror that I painted for a neighbor...poor garage floor....moving on...

This time I took the back off the mirror and painted because it was screwed on. Sometimes I don't mess with it and I'll just cover the mirror or spray right on the mirror and remove the paint with a razor and nail polish remover. I told you I am loving crisp white...

To this:

J looks like he's working really hard. He's not. He's pouting. Yes, that is a decorated mask that P is wearing. He wears it all the time. That, or Tom's old ski goggles. Not kidding. And, he also wore those sweatpants and ratty t-shirt for class pictures at school. That's my boy.

Here's how I imagine the conversation went down:

P: Do it like this.
J: How can I take orders from someone wearing a sparkly kitty mask?
P: Just do it.

Jack turns 3!

Today this little dude turns 3. THREE! It's hard to believe. Jack-Jack as we call him, is the most amazing child. Besides being as smart as can be - he can already count to 14 - he is funny, friendly and fantastic. He has been potty trained since just after he turned 2. He makes me want to scream sometimes, but at the end of the day, I have to smile over something silly that he did or something funny he said.

I won't lie, he is also T-R-O-U-B-L-E. I mean look at him:

This photo was taken last week. Last week was the first week of April. Ummm...although it was 80, he refused to wear a shirt and only wears "cowboy shoes". The ones in this photo are a little too small for him. So, his grandparents sent him these:

He refuses to take the boots off. He even naps with them on. I finally got them off of him tonight, but they are perched next to his bed. Lined up neatly and evenly with the bed.

(Look at that face! That dimple - Oh boy! Seriously, he could charm the pants off you.)

Jack's personality is clear. He is outgoing, goofy, smart, silly, stubborn, smart, have I mentioned that? He adores chocolate and would eat it all day if he could (wonder where he gets that?) He is sneaky and he loves to hide treats. He looks a little like my Uncle Steve, he's got my legs, poor kid, and a dimple to-die-for, see that belly? That's all his dad.

He got a new bike too.

Just so that he can keep up with his brother. He loves it. He is so over his trike. That is so last week.

He also got a Leapster from his Grandpa and once he figures out how to turn it on, he'll be golden. Although, he loves to carry it around and look "like Potur..." (Porter).

Jack-Jack, we love you. We can't imagine our family without you. Thank you for keeping things hoppin' around here!

Target smells because of my kid.

I think I'll start a category called "Funny places kids puke". Actually, I could write an entire post about all the crazy places I've puked while pregnant. But, let's stick with kids.

On Thursday, Jack puked while sitting in the cart in the frozen food section of Target. Fortunately that area is right next to the paper towel area. And so I grabbed a pack, ripped it open and cleaned the floor. Then I headed over to the kids clothing and grabbed the only pair of jeans they had in the entire boys area.  we changed him right there in the middle of the clothing section and I held onto the tag. And because he was a little freaked out and wanted to snuggle with his puke soaked blankie, I let him pick out a new one. At least it's cute. Brown with polka dots. Because I know you are all wondering.

Even though he projectile vomited all over everything, he still proceeded to eat a scooby snack that he had in his hand (never mind that it fell on the floor too) immediately after he threw up. And screamed when I tried to take it away....yuck.

Feel free to read about the other funny puke stories here and here.

On the day Jack was born...

Because I have to remember all the details...

For Jack's birth I wanted to try and NOT use drugs. Nothin'. I was not impressed with the epidural that I had with Porter's birth. (I'll write that post another day.) So, I was determined to try without. I didn't go into the birth thinking that I would absolutely not use anything. I just went in thinking that I was going to give it a try.

Back track. I started having contractions on a Thursday morning. Easter Thursday 2007. All our children were born on or around a holiday. Odd how that happened. Nothing came of the contractions, but I did call my dad and tell him that this kid was comin'. So he drove down. The day went on and nothing happened. Easter was Sunday, so we had plans. Of course, plans changed. He was supposed to come on the 10th!

At 10 pm we had just put fresh sheets on our bed and we were laying down and I said, "It would really suck if my water broke on our fresh clean sheets." And not 30 seconds later I started to feel a dribble. This is no joke. I thought I was peeing. Really. So I went to the bathroom. It just wouldn't stop coming out. But, I wasn't having any contractions. And it wasn't gushing. So I put down a pee pad that we had in our guest room from when my mom stayed with us (another story for another time). And I tried to sleep and tried to figure out what to do. Because I wasn't sleeping and I was feeling like a slow drip faucet, we decided to go into the hospital. We got there about 2 am. They confirmed that my water broke but also said there was a second sac of fluid. Meaning that Jack's head got in the way and he was stopping the fluid from getting out.
Get this - they waited until shift change, at 7:30 am to rebreak my water. Seriously. I could have been done so much sooner! Angry mother on board. Ugghh.
So, they broke my water again. I started having small contractions and they moved me to a room. We had a great nurse who assured me that she wouldn't give me an epidural if I begged for one during a contraction. I had to wait while I wasn't having one to ask for one. That worked for me.
I bounced on a ball. I walked around. Then I got in the bathtub. I had major contractions there and I found the contractions much easier to deal with while in the tub. But then. Then I wanted an epidural. Then I wanted to push. Then I had to get out of the bath immediately. There was no time. No time for an epidural. Reason being he was coming!
I couldn't get comfortable and so I draped myself on top of the ball. Ball on bed. Me draped over ball. Jack was ready and they wanted me to flip over and lie down. NO WAY. NO HOW.  So I birthed that baby while on all fours draped over an exercise ball. I leave the grossness of the ordeal out, but my rear was in the air for the world to see.
I remember pushing twice. I remember swearing A LOT. Lots and lots of F-bombs. It was beautiful. I also remember Tom telling me to breathe. And me telling him to f-ing breathe. Not pretty.

 

We were the talk of the OB floor for two reasons. The first, no one had ever given birth while lying on top of the birthing ball. That was a first. Two, apparently you're not supposed to give birth in the hospital without an IV started. No IV. The doctor was not happy and started the "always start an IV" rule. Even if there is nothing going in. Huh. Makin' our mark.

 

But this is pretty. He was beautiful. April 6, 2007. 6 pounds 13 ounces. Born at 10:19 am. Four days early. He slept through the night at 12 weeks. He started getting ear infections at 6 months. Then we didn't sleep. He is funny and goofy and smart. He is a pain in the patooty. And we love him.

 

Mom Ramblings

Random thought: As a mom I'm faced with daily dilemmas. Many of you know them: Is it okay for my kids to wear the same underwear three days in a row? How many times a week can I feed my kids macaroni and cheese with pepperoni? Do I have to get down on the floor and play with them every second of every single day? Will they notice if I just lie down and take a nap right here on the floor while they crawl all over me? Can they go one more day without a bath? If I just lie here for a little while longer will they miraculous be able to reach the breakfast cereal/milk/bottles?

Am I the only one? Seriously? Bueller? Bueller?

More momness (just made up that word):

On No-Nap Monday Jack that little turd, spilled an entire bottle of hippo watermelon soap all over the floor. The stuff that comes out the mouth of the hippo and it blinks for as long as you have to wash your hands. It's green. It smells like watermelon. Okay, it smells like what people that make fragrances think watermelons smell like. In actuality it smells like a 12 year old girl's lip gloss that is really just glorified chapstick. Now, I'd love to tell you that this happened in the bathroom where the soap is stored. But it didn't. It happened in the bedroom. How did it get there, you ask? He left his room and went and got it while he was supposed to be napping. HIS BEDROOM CARPETED FLOOR. How come you didn't clean it up you lazy mom, you ask? Well. I will tell you what happens when you try and wash soap out of carpet with water. It makes bubbles. Lots of green bubbles.

Now. THIS is the same floor that has the dog puke rug covering the ginormous blue paint spill. Umm...yeah.

Crap.

And here's how the conversation went:

Porter: Moommmm....Jack spilled.

Me: (Stomping up the stairs. Yep. Stomping. And then smelling. And then gagging. And then throwing up a little from the overpowering smell.)

Jack: (Hiding hippo soap.)

Me: Jack, who spilled on the carpet? (In the nicest tone I have, because seriously, the carpet couldn't get any worse.)

Jack: Baby Gus.

Me: Really? Baby Gus? He climbed out of his crib and came over and spilled soap. Nope. Try again.

Jack: Millie. (The dog.)

Me: Nope. Try again.

Jack: Doggie. (A stuffed animal.)

Me: Nice try. Who really spilled the soap? (Hiding a smile.)

Jack: (Starting to get that devilish grin with that little dimple) Me did it.....

Me: Duh.

And then all the bubbles. I felt like I was in an episode of The Brady Bunch. Specifically the one where Bobby tried to do laundry and soap was pouring out of the washing machine. Cause that would really happen.