My Husband's Son

You know when you were a kid, and you misbehaved, and your mom used to say "I hope, one day, when you grow up, that you will have a child JUST LIKE YOU!" Let me just say, in all fairness, this is not a fair statement for mothers to make to SONS. For one day, it will not be your son that will pay the price of your curse, but your sweet daughter-in-law (yeah, the one who willingly took that son off of your hands). I just happen to know someone who is currently bemoaning her current situation, in having to raise a child that is just like her husband.
Today, as I was working on fixing dinner, Brooklyn and Ty were behind me in the dining room. Brooklyn said, "Mom, Ty is playing with the knives! (butter knives, thankfully). Ty then said "No Mom, I'm playing my violin!" As I turned around to confiscant the knives, he was standing with two knives in hand. His eyes were quietly closed and his head was cocked, as he was carefully drawing one knife upon the other, as a bow upon a string. I can't laugh, it will just make it worse!

Pushing Excuses

I'm able to attest to the fact that some behaviors (such as pushing and hitting) must be nature, not nurture. Despite my best parenting attempts, my kids often are use brute force to express themselves, and sometimes, I'm not even sure they're expressing any deep emotions or opinions, but maybe just knowing how good it feels to have some power.

At any rate, I've heard some fabulous excuses this weekend for pushing.

Yesterday, Brooklyn pushed Ty and said: "I wasn't pushing him, I just went through him!" She was emphatic about the difference and positive that her argument was sound.

Today, Ty was standing at the top of the stairs with Sadie and pushed her. I'm seriously paranoid about one of the kids getting pushed down my long flight of hardwood stairs, so I immediately reprimanded him. He then replied, "I wasn't pushing her, I was strapping a rocket on her back". Seriously? He almost had to be to come up with something so creative.

At least Ty and Brooklyn make excuses, trying to cover up misdeeds. Sadie, on the other hand, is 23 1/2 pounds of pure attitude. She pushes everyone, including Jake and I, much more often than any of the other kids. She doesn't make excuses, she never denies it, but confesses as if she were fully justified. What's a mom to do? I'm thinking about pushing back a bit!

Useful Information

For those of you who live here in Milwaukee, be it known that not making a full and complete stop when turning right at a red light WILL get you pulled over. I learned so last night. I was lost, trying to get to a restaurant in the Third Ward. The officer was at the intersection, I totally saw him; but I didn't think about making a rolling stop to turn right at the light. I was lost, and more focused on looking at street signs and figuring out where to go than making a complete stop. Honestly, when those lights started flashing in my rear view, I didn't even know why I was getting pulled over. Fortunately, the office was very kind; offered me only a warning and gave even me directions (then followed me most of the way there, I don't know if he was concerned about me or just checking my story). He simply asked why I did what I did, I tried my best to look pathetic and lost (sticking out my pregnant belly as much as possible). Off the hook! (And no ladies, I didn't even have to resort to crying) Drivers beware and be careful!

Like Mother, Like Daughter, and so it goes

I've been a rotten blogger lately, but I did want to post something of note that made me laugh. Brooklyn's b-day was a few weeks ago; and she was supposed to take birthday treats to her school class. After contemplating letting the grocery store bakery make our goodies for me, I guilted myself into feeling like a "good mom" would make homemade goodies. So, I referred to one of my wonderful friends (Google) to try to come up with some fun, simple cupcake ideas. I won't go into boring details, but I spent way too much valuable time planning cupcakes for a 5-year old to take to Junior Kindergarten. After I completed my cupcakes (which did end up being adorable (and very simple) thanks to butterfly shaped gummies that I found at my local grocery), I called my Mom to tell her. After all, I remember when I was young, my mom often stressed about what for me to take to my class (yes, I remember this, maybe it had something to do with having a birthday 5 days before Christmas). Anyway, I related to her how funny I thought it was that she always stressed about silly b-day treats; and now I was stressing. She then related to me a story about my Grandma's mother, regarding the same thing. As the story goes, my great-grandma was up all night, burning batch after batch of candies on a wood stove for my grandma to take to her school class. It's hilarious to me to see the commonalities of women of all generations. Gluttons for punishment we are, and it's apparently either genetic or a trait that follow the female sex in general. Next time I pull an all-nighter for the sake of being a "good" mom/wife/friend/church member/nut case/perfectionist/over-achiever; I will remember that I am in good company and that it's nothing new!

I'm ALIVE!!!

As you can see from my cute little counter there on the right, I am 27 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I'll leave that as my number one excuse for not blogging. We're all doing pretty well. October was a rough month, I just couldn't keep my family healthy. I'm hoping maybe we've got some credit earned for future illness this winter. (With Brooklyn in her first year of school, I'm afraid not). The kids enjoyed Halloween, and I'm now devising a way to toss out some candy without someone taking note. I am really good at making my kids limit their candy intake, it's ME that's the problem. "Oh, I'm pregnant...I need the extra calories...I worked out today...I'm feeling stressed today, I deserve it!" I try to remind myself that delivering this baby isn't going to do anything for my hips and thighs. At any rate, the candy has to go before the Christmas treats start rolling in.
I will post pictures later (of the kids, not the hips; it was enough the my sister in law posted SWIMSUIT photos of me on Facebook last month...I'm still thinking of how to return the favor...it's pretty hard to match pregnant AND swimsuit)

Getting OLD

This weekend, when we were celebrating Brooklyn and Jake's birthdays, Brooklyn was very excited about "being bigger" and growing up. All day, she was sure that she had acquired new skills, talents, and abilities by becoming 5. She asked Jake how old he was, and he told her. She then counted to 30, and said, "Wow! You went all the way through all of your twenties!" Ironically, I am 10 months OLDER than Jake, but I had a lot of fun teasing him about being "OLD". I'm comfortable in my old skin; I have so much more confidence now than I did way back when. (Also, last year, the day before my birthday I had a miscarriage, so I kinda worked my way out of old jokes). Anyway, Happy Birthday Jake!

Like Father....Like Daughter

Brooklyn loves school and always gives me a recap on the way home. Last week (or maybe the week before) when I picked her up, she said "oh Mom, school was SO long today!" I asked her, "why? what did you do?" She replied, "We had a big meeting with all of the whole school. We had to sit on the floor for a long time, criss cross applesauce ("Indian-style" for those of us raised in less politically correct times). The same people kept saying the same thing like one-hundred times. They kept asking us the same questions. It was so boring! It was so long!" Those of you who know Jake well, know that he claims to be "allergic" to boredom. I think he just has a low tolerance for boredom, like some people can't deal with pain, Jake can't deal with being bored. Apparently, Brooklyn is the same. Who knew such things were genetic? Speaking of that, isn't this weird...Jake has mentioned to me before that he "couldn't" sit cross-legged in kindergarten, and he was always getting in trouble with the teacher because of it. My reaction, as a loving wife, of course was always, "you're nuts! Everyone can sit cross-legged. You're just a baby!" Well, Brooklyn came home her first day from school and that was her only complaint, that it "hurt" to sit "criss cross applesauce". My, what weird genes my husband has. I really should have had him fill out a more thorough questionnaire before I agreed to marry him!