Rules to Fit

This weekend was filled with fun. Saturday we met up with Grayson's best friend Devin and his family for an outing to the zoo. It seems we always go together. I imagine the workers there think we are one big family. After a few hours at the zoo mom and dad got a couple quiet hours at home while Braxton napped and Grayson went to play at Devin's. My friends might get ideas when we say we had quiet time with no kids running around.... but...Quiet Time= finally sort through our latest quotes for new life insurance policies and decide if they meet our needs.  We've been married a while now my friends :-)

 

 

 

 

After we picked up Grayson, Dusty ordered a pizza and picked up the last of the Shrek series to watch. We even let the boys stay up a little late to watch the movie. Both passed out in no time once ready for bed :-)

And as expected with every "Fall Back" weekend... both boys were up before my clocks adjusted time read 7:30. Bummer. We ran a few errands today and Grayson talked us into some $1 wooden cars you put together. Nothing like a trip to Michaels to make you buy crafty stuff. So while mom cleaned and Braxton napped, Dad and Grayson put together some cars.

About the middle of this process Dad came in to tell me about Grayson's race. They were "racing" just the wheels they had put together. According to Dad, his wheels stopped a couple inches farther away than Grayson's. He informed Grayson he had lost. Grayson had a different opinion. He said they both won. 

He explained that they tied, because the fninsh line was in fact.... a diagonal! It ran from Dad's wheels to Grayson's wheels. Convenient Huh?

Always nice to adjust the rules of the game as you go.... wish it worked that way in every day life!!!!

Ava's Birthday Party

Grayson does not like Girls. Or so he claims. Everything is "Will there be any boys there?"  "I don't want her to babysit, she is a girl." I guess I get a free pass being mom? He at least pretends to love me.

A few weeks ago Grayson brought home a birthday party invitation. The party was for his classmate Ava. I have volunteered for recess duty at school a couple times, but haven't yet learned everyone's names so I really wasn't sure who Ava was. Grayson likes a good birthday party so I decided to ask him if he wanted to go.

Mom: Gray, do you want to go to Ava's Birthday Party?
Grayson: Ava from school?
Mom: Yes.
Grayson: Oh mom, Ava has looooong pretty hair. (sure he doesn't like girls)
Mom: Do you want to go to her party?
Grayson: Well Yeah (like I asked the most obvious question ever)
Mom: Well you will have to buy her a girl present.
Grayson: Why?
Mom: Because Ava is a girl, she would probably like a girl present.
Grayson: Well, I guess we can get her a mermaid.

Mermaid. Let me just go grab one of those to take. Lucky for me, there is apparently a Barbie Mermaid movie that was out recently so there are plenty of mermaids out there to buy.

So we make it over to Ava's party. Grayson kept up with Ava all night. Whichever area in Jump Zone Ava went, so did Gray. And between them, I'm pretty sure he chased her the entire time.

Ava is in the front row wearing black, and has some nice blue lips from the cake... if you make note, she does have long pretty hair :-)

 

Margaringo!

When I was little I attended a Catholic elementary school. I didn't ever really hate school, but once I started in the public schools, I realized I was much happier. I swore to myself that my kids would never attend a private school. So much for that :-) That was long before the move to Little Rock and getting tired of trying to play the system to get my kid in a school that was good for him. Grayson now happily attends Holy Souls.

The downside to this realization that private school might be our best fit, is that there are always fundraisers. Even before school started we were given raffle tickets to sell. Then there was the Boosterthon where at least Grayson had to run laps to earn his money. We have also had Tshirt sales and Fall Fest (this is only the first 9 weeks people). Every time you turn around there is a fundraiser..... but..... being a Catholic school of course they had the BEST fundraiser idea ever.

GIRLS NIGHT OUT

Complete with Margaritas, Bingo, Wine, Beer, Nachos, Popcorn, and lots of entertainment from the fellow attendees. Never thought a school fundraiser would be good people watching ;-) And of course I didn't win any of the bingo games or the prizes, many of which came with a bottle of wine (who would have guessed that one?).

Anyway ready for Next Year's Girls Night Out Margaringo?!?!?

Mom is Moving Out

Lately Grayson has had quite the pre-teen attitude. I think some wise elders left out the part that kids aren't sweet all the time before puberty like you are led to believe. Anyway, he has had several moments lately.

Dad tried to floss Grayson's teeth. Grayson insisted that he brush them, then floss them. When Dad argued this was poor technique Grayson responded with "I am the kid and I tell you what to do"

Right. 

Grayson also has been very upset with our choice for dinner several nights. On one occassion when I didn't provide the food he wanted he told me (with tear filled eyes):
"You are not my mom anymore, You have to move out"

Oh, and when I made him take a bath the other night, I was relieved of my mom duties then too. Guess one day he'll learn that I just don't go away that easily!

Wonder what he would do if I left when he told me to??? Probably not be so tough like he acts. Or at least that's what I hope.

I'm Sending My Husband Back to His Mom...

A few days ago I was scrambling at work to keep up and stop running so late with my patients. I can't stand to be late, but the longer I've been a PT.... the longer it takes me to complete a patient visit. Anyway, the office manager tells me that my husband is on the phone and he said "Tell Stephanie Not to be mad at me but that I have a question if she is around." RED FLAG! Actually there is more than one red flag in this situation.
1: Dusty only calls the clinic phone when its "important". After several years of not understanding that I don't keep my cell phone with me while I"m working with patients he is finally trained to realize that he needs to call the clinic for important stuff.
2: He starts his phrase with "Tell Stephanie Not to be Mad"
Hmmm...

When I get on the phone I get some speedy sentences about some guy showing up selling new alarm systems in the neighborhood and how if he sells so many today he gets extra points towards a trip. (This is one reason I may eventually allow my husband to have an off-site office... so he can't answer the door). I also am informed that there is a 3 day window yada yada yada. Now keep in mind that we already have an alarm system installed. So I tell him that I am busy and that I really just want to talk about this tonight. He keeps on about the  fascinating electronic features this system has. He can name 100 I'm sure. I can probably only repeat about 4. None of them are necessities. Just nice amenities. After a couple minutes of him telling me the guy has to know today and its a great deal.... just $15 a month (this seems unrealistic to me considering the increased features and that it will cost less than our current monitoring system)... I finally say "Just do whatever you want then. We can talk about it later"

Lesson for the Guys... DO NOT JUST TAKE MY WORD WHEN I SAY THAT. It really means ... I am tired of you pestering me. Make the decision you want AT YOUR OWN RISK.

After picking up the boys from daycare I make my usual call home to Dusty. He tells me that the installer is there. I pretty much repeated that sentence. Said I'll see you later. Hung up. We have been together for almost 14 years now. He should have this when it is okay to make a decision alone down.

I come home to find this poor college kid installing our alarm system. He had apparently started not too long before I got off of work. I don't know where Dusty got the idea that these things are installed in a short period of time, but since this is the 3rd system we've installed I have noted that it takes more than just a couple hours. Something inevitably doesn't wire up correctly or something.

Problem #1. I have 2 hungry kids. I am hungry. I have a college kid working at my house who will likely be there past dinner time. Do I (A) make dinner and feed my children (B) Take the kids out to eat and let Dad starve ... looking good for option B at this point... or (C) Make dinner and offer some to the kid. After a few minutes of ensuring that Dusty is aware of how I feel about this situation, I choose C. But I make Dusty find enough food in the cabinet and he chooses wisely to be the last to eat to make sure there is plenty.

Problem #2. Installer is still there after 8 pm and is working on taking something or other out of our current glass break sensors. One of these is in Braxton's bedroom. And... its nearing bedtime. I make Dusty tell him he has to come back.

Problem #3. There are lots of questions popping up about this company I have never heard of. These are resolved after several google searches and concerned messages to the sales person (who Dusty politely tells that he was wrong for making this decision alone and is not sure that it will stand up to my concerns) A WISE DECISION

For the great part of this story... Dusty is very trusting. Everyone is "A great guy" until proven otherwise. This is opposite of how I work. The sales guy would never have gotten the opportunity to sell anything to me if I had opened the door. Especially if he started talking about earning a trip. My friends are all aware of Dusty's nature. One of them even remarked when I said that we were getting a new system and I wasn't sure about the company or sales people that "Dusty probably invited the guy over for dinner" Pretty funny considering he ate a couple tacos the night before at my house :-)

And by the way, the system is $15 more a month than our current one. Somehow this miscommunication may have been avoided if he had just listened and read between the lines.

I do still love the poor boy, but I almost sent him back home to his momma for a few days. Let her try to fix the kinks.

Its Just Sheet

Bedtime at the Weems House is usually fairly tame. We adopted a schedule back when Grayson was little and have adapted it with necessary changes (i.e. Braxton). Usually one of us gives the bath and then we get the boys changed. Braxton is easily coaxed to bedtime with his blanket and paci and most nights I rock Braxton for about 10 minutes, lay him in bed, and he falls right to sleep. Then I go upstairs to hang out with the other boys. It used to be fairly on time....but as time goes on, Dusty has gotten more slack. Grayson tends to not be in bed nearly asleep until 9:30. That is another story. 

One particular evening we were finishing up reading Grayson's bedtime story and went to turn off the lights. His "Monkey" (or crib toy that easily adapted to his new bed and plays music with lights whenever he wants) was on and we were on the last stretch. Then my sister comes home. She was hanging out with the latest guy (although he has been around the longest and seems pretty nice) as usual and came home right at bedtime. This is a schedule she perfected when she moved in so that she can try to be strangled if the dogs wake up the baby. If she is seeking out this kind of torture for herself... we may need to get her some counseling. 

Anyway, the dogs started barking and Dusty loudly whispered "SHIT". 

As dad went running down the stairs to get the dogs under control, Grayson rolls over and looks at me. 
Grayson: "Why did dad just yell Sheet?"
Mom: "He was just talking about your bed sheets"
Grayson "But why did he yell it at the dogs" (he is apparently confused)
Mom: "I have no idea honey, but he was talking about your tractor sheets"

As you can see I had some quick thinking to start with (important for any parent) but had to use the final tactic for preschoolers with curiosity and you are at a loss.... just tell a simple truth. Usually this is enough to get them onto another subject. Luckily Grayson hasn't had any discussions with the dogs about his sheets, although that could be highly entertaining to hear.

Our Little Risk Taker

Boys will be boys.... or so the saying goes. Grayson is energetic, but usually a little reserved when it comes to danger. Braxton, well, he is another story. He thinks he is big. He thinks he is 4 like brother. He copies brother...and then adds on his own twist. 


I was sitting in the living room chair working on my computer while the boys were playing on their Little Tykes slide. I am used to them running their cars and trucks down the slide and "chasing after them" and I am used to watching for Braxton's attempts to go down the slide while standing. Yep this happens. No ER visit.... YET. 


As I am sitting there I hear Grayson say 
"NO BRAXTON! You don't STAND on the dumptruck. You SIT on it" 


Seeing as how I have come to suspect that things are not always as innocent as they sound, I look up. What I see is Braxton standing INSIDE the back of his dumptruck that is ready to GO DOWN THE SLIDE! 


Makes me think I should have paid more attention to the loud noise that occurred just a minute prior to this conversation when I saw out of the corner of my eye a green garbage truck and Grayson.


Maybe the ER visit will be for Mom first. 

He Always Looks so Innocent

It's Just a Frog

A couple weeks ago we were shopping for a birthday present (I'm sure you might remember our pre-party fiasco I blogged about recently) and ran across a $20 kit to raise a tadpole. Being the sucker parents we are, we purchased one for Grayson and were planning to order our "free tadpole" the next day. What we failed to realize was that they do not ship tadpoles when the weather is hot. This meant, no tadpole until November. We had already told Grayson about the tadpole and he seemed excited. Easy fix: visit the local pet shops to find a tadpole.


Lesson #1: Pet stores do not sell tadpoles (unless they accidentally get mixed in with the goldfish?? How that happens I'm not sure)
Lesson#2: Grayson could care less about the tadpole. He is a boy. He wants a frog. Not just any frog. A BIG FROG.
Lesson #3: There are a lot of things you have to do to keep a frog alive in captivity (or so the salesman says)

When we got to petco we found the perfect frog. A fire-bellied toad. Grayson was drawn to him. We talked with one of the salesmen about purchasing a frog and what all we had in our kit. He told us all of the stuff you have to do. Including a weekly run to purchase crickets (yuck). We decided to wait a few days and see if we were really up to adding to the petting zoo.

All week Grayson is asking about getting his frog. Damn. What did we start. So we decide we'll get him the stupid frog. It can't be that bad right? We convince him that he needs to cooperate on our morning errands in order to go get his frog. He even comes up with a name over lunch (dad helped him in this endeavor).

Grayson "We should name him Pito"
Dad " I think Cheeto would be a good name" (think of his orange belly)
Grayson "Well.... Captain Cheeto would work. He is an Avenger" (Of course he is!)

So here we are with a super excited kid who already has plans for his new pet. We go to the store and pick out the frog.

After our discussions about the frog and his size, we opt to purchase the $40 kit they had at Petco that comes with a living space, shredded coconut something or other and moss for the base, vitamins (WTF? For a frog? Even my dogs don't take vitamins), and a vine for him to climb on. We knew we had to buy him a swimming bowl. No big deal. Then as we are talking to the guy we learn that we need a tank heater, UV lighted cover, humidity and temperature gauges. Of course the frog has humidity needs that don't meet human standards. What were we thinking??? His solution to our frequent cricket purchases... buy a cricket keeper and feed hundreds of them at a time with special vitamin enhanced food so they are good for the frog. We veto the cricket farming. Chances of 1 cricket escaping in Grayson's bedroom are high enough. We can't risk an entire colony of them on the loose... our cats are domesticated!

We approach the checkout register feeling good about our purchase. Grayson has his frog in the carrier box and is talking to him "Its okay. We are on the way home. You can get out soon. Don't be scared".... our hearts are smiling he is so happy.

Grand total: $110.
Excuse me? Can you repeat that? We didn't even buy all the stuff he recommended. Ugh. So we buy all the stuff. How can you not at this point? How do you rationalize with a 4 year old that his $6 frog is not worth the $104 worth of stuff he comes with?

Of course... a week later.... we are laughing at ourselves and I firmly believe that Captain Cheeto probably could live without all the extra comforts the salesman suggested, but how do you argue with the amphibian specialist who can probably make the frog live for 10 years. (This last though scares me. I am very convinced that Grayson will lose interest before he turns 14) Captain Cheeto is comfy in his new home. We have to read him books for bedtime and Grayson requests bedtime stories about him. Of course he does....making up stories about a frog who is an Avenger can't be that hard can it? Ha!

Its Just a kids Party....No Stress

Saturday morning started off like every other normal Saturday when you have a kids birthday party to attend.... and you waited until the last minute to decide if you were going (we RSVP'd at 10:00 the night before): We got up early and rushed around to get everyone bathed and presentable.

This particular party was CARS 2 themed and the invitation said "Bring your Power Wheels for Racing Fun". Well, I wasn't really excited about this to begin with. For starters, Grayson has only wanted to ride his Firetruck we got him for Christmas a couple years ago a few times and each time was probably less than 15 minutes. A lot of work to get it out of its spot in the garage for not a lot of playtime. The other reason, packing it and dragging it to the party. I figured that several kids would bring them and they usually have 2 seats. Maybe this was just a lazy parent thought. Gray's Firetruck also does not easily fit inside our vehicle. The rear seats need to be down and this leaves no room for the most important part of our party plans...taking the kids. The kicker though, Devin's (Grayson's best friend) parents couldn't fit his in their car either. Then we offered. We can take both of them on our utility trailer. No big deal.

TIME 9:20 a.m. (Party starts at 10)
Our trailer is parked in the backyard (a subject I dislike and better a topic for another blog) which is sloped downhill. Usually, Dusty just gets the riding mower out and moves the trailer around where he needs it to avoid any tire tracks in our almost green grass. This particular morning though, the grass was wet. This made getting the trailer moved a little more difficult. It took effort to even get it positioned where you could pull it out from between the trees. The mower kept spinning wheels instead of getting a good run uphill. So I suggested we could move the trailer by our hands. We have done this before. Its not a large trailer. However, I didn't take into account the wet grass on a slope, Dusty wearing crocs, myself in flip flops, or the fact that if the lawnmower wasn't getting the job done... I probably wasn't much of a help. After several attempts and a few almost slips under the trailer, we move the trailer back downhill a bit to get a better start and the pulley thing on the trailer (whatever that's called) is hooked up and tightened down. Dusty lets me get on the mower and he is going to help give the trailer a "man-powered boost".

Grayson is patiently waiting on the side of the house just watching. Braxton is crying off to the side, tears and all. He is tired and wants to be held...and afraid of the lawnmower. For my daredevil this is amazing to me. He can climb on the bar, jump in the pool... but he can't stand noise. So I get Braxton in my lap so he will calm down and we attempt to move the trailer uphill again. This does not really help my driving skills, but it saves some sanity.

Now for those of you who haven't heard. Dusty is not a big fan of me mowing the yard. I did this one time when we lived in a duplex (only 1/2 a yard to mow mind you) and he wasn't pleased. He referenced the neighbors being unhappy with him making his wife mow, but I figure its really that I didn't go in the appropriate pattern and we weren't to that acceptance point in our relationship where you just let your spouse help despite it not looking quite like you would like. This all leads to me not really being skilled with the mower. I did get a brief refresher on the brake and gears before I started. Last time I got this lesson...probably about 2006 when he decided I should know how in case he ever broke his leg.

After several attempts, we finally get a good running start up the hill. Not a fast run, but a run. We move the trailer about 20 feet up hill when I hear him yell "Let Off". So I stop. Now I hear more clearly some words of frustration. Apparently I was supposed to hear "Don't let off". So now we are stalled and spinning wheels again. Back to manual assistance for moving the trailer, only to catch on the side of the fence gait. ...we can keep going and risk tearing the gait up (probably a rather expensive option) or we can nearly cry and finally get it arranged where we can hook up the Yukon to it.

TIME 10:00 a.m.
At this point I let Dusty take over controlling the trailer and getting it loaded with the Firetruck. I run inside to get the camera, diaper bag, and present all collected and ready. Braxton is following me around the house crying. I think he got louder with every new room we went in. Major tears were falling. We were already almost 15 minutes past the start time of the party and we hadn't even started to get to Devin's house to pick up his truck. I finally get back outside and get the boys in the car (unbuckled) so that I can get everything loaded. Next thing I know.... Braxton is standing in the middle console of the front seat holding an open can of coke..... upside down and over his car seat.

I believe my children heard the first time I have ever YELLED a curse word. Not a parent of the year action. I believe my next step was a prayer that neither one of them would repeat it.

TIME: 10:39
We get on the road to Devin's and pick up his truck. We get to the party right about 11 a.m. But we at least made it. By now....we are all laughing at the morning. And the kids had a blast. Although I wasn't excited that we went through all that effort for a stupid birthday party, I was happy to see all the kiddos have a great time. I only wish there were pictures for the above story so that you could all enjoy it even more.

FAST FORWARD: 36 hours later. Dusty is rolling the trailer back closer to the fence after dark and while medicated for allergies. He steps away to get a block to keep it from rolling into the fence. 5 steps: no more taillights on the trailer. Perfect Ending.

Big Just Like My Brother

I've always heard people say how the younger child will be easier to potty train because he/she always watches the older sibling(s). Not sure how much sense this ever really made, but perhaps I will cross my fingers that such a theory holds true. Braxton does have an interest in what Grayson does in the bathroom. I hear a lot of yelling by Grayson when he is in there to get Braxton away. I catch him often after Grayson is finished trying to reflush the toilet and then getting on the step stool by the sink like HE was the one who just did something spectacular (yes as parents of toddlers, using the bathroom is a spectacular thing when it happens... more so when they officially are 100% trained and you don't have to search the house looking for the "wet spot" when they come telling you they just went potty and their pants are soaked)

Seeing the interest Braxton has with his brother's bathroom habits I made a "wandering Walmart" decision to purchase a new toddler toilet seat to put on our toilet at home. Wednesday afternoon I sat him on it (much to his delight) and he probably sat there for 5 minutes just grinning from ear to ear. Of course, this means nothing else occurred, but I never expected that to happen. He is only 17 months and despite reading articles "Potty Train your Baby at 6 Months" I realize that not all babies are potty geniuses and the odds of my son being one is even less.

Thursday night it was time for a bath so I took Braxton in and got him undressed. He quickly tried to climb on the toilet so I sat him up there (probably 10 minutes this time). I spent a lot of time preventing excessive toilet paper being unrolled and put in the toilet. I finally scooped him up and stood him on the floor. Next thing I know, Braxton is lifting the toilet seat and climbing on the step stool. He stands there and sticks his belly forward (I wish I had a picture, it was so hysterical) so he could "aim". Nothing happens. Braxton looks down, then stands back up with his belly out. This repeats several times. After a couple minutes I just put him in the tub.

Absolute distress. Braxton starts crying. Not just crying, but extremely upset. Tears and everything. After about 20 seconds of this, he stops.... looks down....and starts peeing. Poor baby. Mom was just not patient enough. He obviously had the right idea and knew he could go, but he just couldn't get it coordinated in time. Maybe he will be a toilet genius afterall :-)

Making Gray Faster

"Stephanie hates rice." This is something that most of you know and have even taken into consideration (without me around) when meal planning. Now this is not just a dislike for a particular food. I have lots of issues. I probably could benefit from some sensory integration therapy.
Other things I can't stand:
Loose Socks, Hair in my cheek, tapioca pudding, wool sweaters (or any other scratchy material), dry oatmeal, slimy food (looks and texture), wet toilet paper/paper towels (gagging does occasionally occur when I have to handle this), sandpaper... this is a quick list. I'm sure my friends and family can add to it. 

It is possible that my sensory issues are from being a NICU baby, but I've about decided they are at least partially genetic. My argument: Grayson. His biggest challenge is the season change in wardrobe. Switching from pants to shorts or short sleeves to long sleeves (and vice versa) is always a nearly tear jerking event. Dad has found the solution.

A few weeks ago he had to put shorts on Gray for the first time of the year. His solution "But Shorts make you Faster". Who could have predicted that this would work for a little boy. Exactly why mom never figured this out. Another piece of wisdom that only another male could know.  

On a side note: I've recently become a fan of this blog. http://averycan.blogspot.com/
I have great admiration for parents in their situation. It often reminds me that I can be a better mom. I have 2 healthy babies. When I first read this blog, I wasn't sure how to take it.... but there are so many hysterical comments I kept reading. I can see where they are coming from...increasing awareness and making their best effort to help their daughter experience some of life's greatest little events. I'm sure it ultimately doesn't matter what they do with her, she will just love them for all their love and attention.

Sweat + Water = Poop

Grayson: "Mom, when you get sweaty you have to drink lots of water. You have to have lots of water to poop. If you don't drink water when you get sweaty you wont get to make poop."
Mom: "Yes Gray, you do need to drink water when you get hot and sweaty. Water is good for you"
Grayson: "Yes. Water is good for me so that I can poop. I need to make a big poop so when we get home I need a lot of drink of water"

I imagine that I asked for this conversation since a couple weeks ago Grayson was in the bathroom yelling "MOM" (in a strained voice) "My poop is stuck" and I was frustrated he wouldn't drink water earlier after coming in from the playground at school. I answered him with "Well maybe if you had drank your water you wouldn't have that problem."

I never learn.

More on Life with Grayson

Grayson switched classrooms recently at school and has been coming home demonstrating lots of learning, which I LOVE! We have learned all about how he needs to blow his nose to get out mucus (not just snot), the trees are in our ENVIRONMENT, and lots more. But lately he has been talking about being dead. Not sure if this is just a phase or if something happened with a classmate's family and he has just picked up on it through playground gossip.

A couple weeks ago I mentioned that Grayson was carrying around a blanket that my mom had given him when he was first born. His Response:"Mom (big sigh and a look of... you have no idea what you are talking about mom). Grandma DeeDee is dead."
His comment was so matter of fact, like there is no possible way she had given him the blanket because she is not here. He has no memory of her since he was so young when she passed away.

Last week we were driving down the highway and passed the cemetery. As we passed he got excited and said "Thats the flower garden where Grandma DeeDee is dead at". Not sure how he figured out she was "there" since I always just say it is where we go to put out flowers to remember her. I am glad that he views this as a garden though. Since the time he has been able to walk, he has ensured that there are 3 (exact number) pine cones mixed in with her flowers. Its been a cute tradition and I'll be sad if he every forgets it.

Then there was the Museum of Discovery. We went for a dinosaur exhibit. The first thing he says... "That dinosaur is dead. Where did his heart go when he died?" Thats a hard question to answer for a preschooler.

Probably one of the funnier stories.... his first swimming lesson. He was mostly excited (except for a few moments early in the morning where television was more important...this is where the new Angry Bird towel became important... yep I knew this might require a little coersion). He had his goggles on his head for a couple hours and wore his swim trunks all morning. His instructor convinced him to get in the water with her and he participated for the most part. Everytime she would shift her hand placement on him he would say "I don't want to die" in a very solemn serious tone. The funniest part ... he never seemed scared during their session and his poor teacher wasn't sure what to make of it all!

Life Lessons We have Taught Our Son

So...we too decided to be in the majority of people who purchased a Mega Millions ticket in hopes of having way more money that any people really need to survive. We did not win. As we were returning from the grocery store this weekend we passed a billboard that listed the current value of the jackpot (a barely worth a ticket 12 million - ha.) Dusty read it aloud and I commented that we donated to the winners (and scholarships of course). He noted that "well, our money went down the drain". Of course Grayson was paying attention.

Gray: Why did our money go down the drain?
Dad: We played a game with money.
Gray: What kind of game?
Dad: A numbers game.

There were several attempts to explain this game to Grayson, but I'm not sure he ever really understood.

Gray: Well, when will our money come back up the drain?

He also had a great suggestion to teach us how to win, since we obviously lost by our own choice. He reports that he intended for us to take him home, let him get in his piggy bank (as any responsible parent would allow), and he would pick the letters we needed to win and we could use his money. Maybe that is our problem.... we picked numbers instead of letters.... and our 4 year old is now wanting to play the lottery.

Preschooler Accents

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Its not a Story...Its a Book!

The title of this post is one of my favorite sayings from Grayson. One evening Dusty was helping Grayson take a shower (he thinks he is big like dad already, baths are boring) and Grayson was insisting that they not use any soap.


Grayson: I don't want any soap
Dad: Grayson, you will use soap. End of Story
Grayson: ITS NOT A STORY, ITS A BOOK!!!!!


He has no idea how right he is. Our life is one big book of stories. I'm a very lucky girl with a great husband. He may need reminded of what exactly he needs to do in order to help, but overall he has made good progress. For Starters on my luck... I never would have passed physics class in high school without him. When we were told to make a rocket and it had to fly I remember asking him where the directions were. Pretty sure that there was laughter when I was informed that there were none. Good thing I wore that front zip sweater shirt that I wasn't aware he could see down when he stood behind me while I was at my desk. Sealed the deal in that classroom partnership.


I'm not sure if I am just mean, have high expectations, or am just spoiled, but EVERY TIME Grayson got up as a newborn... Dusty got up with me. He would change diapers, get bottles, sit up and talk to me. I am always suprised how many of my friends have husbands that aren't willing to do this. Maybe its a combination of a great husband and the fact that he married a wife with high expectations. Probably the waking up in the middle of the night and all his help when my mom was sick... made me really see how great he was. He spent a lot of time with my mom when she was staying with us while she was sick both when I was pregnant and after Grayson was born. He was always willing to go sit with her at the hospital if she had a procedure and I couldn't be there. He also spent many evenings at home alone with a newborn while I ran up to the hospital to check in with mom. Plus he gets bonus points for watching "Rock of Love" with mom and myself. Not sure why she liked that trash, but we all ended up addicted. I know he was tired all those nights that he helped out. I remember one night he got up with me and I asked him to get a bottle while I changed Gray's diaper. He came back in 5 minutes later (insert continuously crying baby noises that might remind you of your goal) with a glass of milk and a few cookies. Guess he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I'm sure my tone was not nice when he came back in as I'm particularly grumpy when I wake up in the middle of the night, but looking back this is hysterical!


For those of you who know my husband well... you know that he has crazy little habits. His coworkers at his last job created something they referred to as DST for Dustin Standard Time. He is ALWAYS late. And he always underestimates the amount of time a project will take. He also is a little crazy without his Concerta. I have to remember to keep the cabinets stocked for his mid-night snack when his meds wear off. He also can talk forever. Not that this is a bad thing but I did have to giggle when someone once said to me "You have a great husband and I always enjoy talking to him, but I have to plan ahead and make sure I have at least 30 minutes free before I call" Oh... and he bites his teeth together when he is falling asleep. Its a crazy habit and I once thought maybe it was just small muscle twitches so I put my pinky between his teeth and boy did it really hurt when he accidently bit me. Serves me right for being so stupid.


I could probably spend a great deal of time writing about what makes him so great (with a few paragraphs on what he can do to make me angry) but then this whole thing would get really sappy and thats not our style.


Most romantic things my husband does for me (or that I prefer over flowers)
1. Change diapers
2. Bathe children
3. Change the litter box
4. Clean up hairballs the animals have coughed up(better he does this because I usually just get sick when I do it and that will create another mess)
5. Fold the laundry

From Within the Walls of the Bathroom Stall

I'm not sure if I have mentioned before how I find it interesting that Grayson frequently has to use the restroom when we go out to dinner. Tonight was no different. Middle of waiting for our food and I get the "Mom, I have to go poop!" and you know immediately to respond before he repeats it louder to ensure that anyone willing to listen will hear. So off we go to the Women's Restroom. (Dad says that the men's room is usually too dirty for him to take Grayson) After a long discussion about why the toilet he chose had a whiter color than the stall next to us (the light was above selected stall) we proceeded to tell me who at the dinner table he was friends with. We had gone to dinner with our family friends Sarah and Chad and their son Noah. 


Grayson: "Mom, I like Chad and Noah. They are my friends"
Mom: "What about Ms Sarah, don't you still like her too?"
Grayson: "No."
Mom: "Why?"
Grayson: "I don't like her, she is a gruril (girl)"
Mom: "You don't like Ms Sarah?"
Grayson: "No. I don't like girls anymore"


Well guess we don't have to worry about a first date anytime soon, but I was unaware that this was the age the "I don't like girls" thing started. Really this is a far cry from the stories his dad tells about his kindergarten girlfriends (of which there were apparently many and naptime was a favorite time to kiss).


Finally got Grayson off that topic since there were plenty of girls coming in and out of the restroom during our stay. Then we went on to how his pooping made more room for his food that was getting cold because he was taking so long. He also asked about each and every noise he heard. This generally slows down the process (especially when he tries to peer underneath the stall wall to see who is next to him) so I kept asking if he was finished and telling him to hurry as best he could. He finally said


"Mom, I just want to sit here and keep talking"


Great. Pretty sure I heard a chuckle from the next stall over. The laughing only gets louder when they hear
"GOODBYE POOP!!" as he flushed the toilet.


 Maybe all of this stems from me forcing him to the library only to have him beg to check out Dinosaur Train. (A PBS kids show for those of you who don't know). What kind of mom lets her kid check out a DVD at the library instead of making him get books??

Parenting Issue #3,546 (Or at least 1 of many)

About 2 months ago:
Grayson is sitting on my lap watching cartoons. He is leaning backwards with his head resting on my breastbone. He wiggles around a few times trying to get more comfortable and then finally reaches back with both hands and attempts to bring my boobs closer together (I suppose) to provide a more cushioned resting spot. He really appeared to be trying to "fluff a pillow". I quickly offered him a pillow to put behind his head and the problem was solved.

Grayson is a very observant character. A few weeks ago he followed me into my closet while I was looking for something (its been too long so I can't recall exactly what it was) and he casually asked "Mom, what are those?"

Me: What are what?
Grayson: Those things.
Me: What things?
Grayson: Those things up there.
Me: What things up there? (looking around at all the stuff on my shelves)
Grayson: (getting frustrated) Those round things above your tummy!
Me: (trying to think quickly..should I be honest or just vague) Those are breasts. Girls have those when they get bigger (waiting...expecting more questions)
Grayson: Okay. (and he runs off to play)

Now, don't get me wrong. I knew this issue wasn't going to just go away for several years to come. I did not; however, realize it would become a frequent discussion.

Grayson: (pointing at my bra in the laundry hamper) What is that?
Me: Thats my bra.
Grayson: Whats it for?
Me: To make girls shirts look better. (I was trying to not make a big issue out of this)

Dusty thought my answer was pretty good. Again, it didn't resolve the curiosity about why mom looks different than the rest of the family. This past week when the daycare was out because there were 5 drops of sleet in the rain Dusty and Grayson were looking for something in the laundry when some of my under garments fell out.

Grayson: What are those?
Dad: Mom's underwear
Grayson: Oh. Is that what holds up her squishy things?
Dad: (I'm really not sure what he said to Grayson)

Later that evening Dusty asked if he was supposed to tell Grayson what the "squishy" things were really called. I figure that we are best to just be simple and honest so as to not have him wandering around town yelling out slang terms he makes up for body parts. We already have enough embarrassing moments to deal with as is.

Grayson is also very fascinated with babies being in tummies. He has asked me whose tummy almost everyone in the family he can think of came from. He has also made a point to tell his friends at school that Braxton came from mom's tummy and then the doctor gave Braxton to him. (mom really wasn't an important player)

Are there classes for parents on how to survive all the questions about life and gender differences. I am really not ready to have to explain everyting to him.... I think I understand why my mom made me watch a video (made by Tampax mind you) around the time puberty hit. Much easier to watch and then just ask if there are any questions (and pray there are not).

Grayson's Trash Attitude

Parenting has a learning curve. I am not sure where exactly I fall on this yet. One of the things we are constantly trying to figure out is when and how to punish the boys. Sometimes I think I just have to try my best to not strangle my boys. Everyday (well... when I remember) I have a small snack ready when I pick the boys up from daycare. I figure they eat lunch at 11:30 and snack around 2 so by the time I get there at around 6 they have growling tummies. Anyway, I brought Grayson a package of fruit snacks yesterday. When we got home he was trying to give me his trash. I suggested that he put it in the trashcan himself, but he didn't like this idea. "Mom, that is not a good deal." I reminded him that it was his snack and my arms were full. He had all kinds of excuses as to why he couldn't put it in the trash. Finally after several reminders that it was his to throw away, his response got the "tone". You know the one where you can tell you have finally hit the last nerve and they are about to have a fit. 

Mom: "Grayson, do not talk to mom like that. It is not polite and I don't appreciate it."

Grayson: "Mom, I don't like that look you just gave me. It wasn't nice either"

I wish that I could have taken a picture of the look on his face as he tried to mimic the look that I had given him when I told him I was not pleased. It was so entertaining to watch him try to widen his eyes and move his eyebrows around. Now, at this point I was REALLY frustrated with him, but I couldn't even find words to get onto him with. It was either strangle him (not recommended as a parenting technique, but often desired as one) or just repeat "GRAYSON" with the tone right back at him. He is still breathing if you are wondering (and he put his trash away). 

I hear a lot that Grayson looks just like me. There is a resemblance for sure. And although I often wonder where he gets his attitude from at such a young age, its probably either a) from daycare or b) from home. I would like to think that the attitude is not from mom, but one of the top sayings from my mom "Stephanie! DO NOT USE THAT TONE WITH ME!!!" At least I know that his fascination with bathroom habits is likely related to the 1/2 of his chromosomes that I didn't provide. 

Prologue

I've been meaning to start my blog for a looooong time. In fact, I registered on the site at least 3 years ago and am just now getting around to figuring out how to put it together. Thats pretty typical of me. Everyone always thinks I'm collected and put together, but really I just pretend like I can't see the craziness so that I won't have to be too medicated and not be able to enjoy the good times.

I grew up in an all girls house. Me, my mom, and my sister. We didn't worry about having to be dressed to go look for a shirt in the dryer or closing the door to the bathroom to pee. I still have to make a conscious effort to do so now and I've been married for almost 10 years. I'm sure I have scarred my husband a few times when I've forgotten I don't live with all girls anymore.

Dusty and I started dating over 13 years ago and have been married for almost 10 years. Its crazy for me to think its been that long and really crazy when I remember we have kids now...and 2 boys at that. There are a lot of things that nobody ever told me about raising boys and I'm sure that I will be continually surprised as the years go by. Nobody ever told me that boys were fascinated by burping, farting, the life cycle of food, and their "size" before they even got to age 3. I was traumatized the first time Grayson made a point to tell me about that last part, I had to call my husband to ask what I was supposed to be telling him. I believe all I got on the other end was laughter and "tell him thats great". Figures.

Grayson will be 4 in March and Braxton is just shy of 15 months. And to answer the next question you will ask (we know from experience this question follows the introduction of our boys), no we don't know if we want to try for a girl. We aren't sure we can survive raising 3 boys and since we can't spin out the X chromosomes to ensure we get a girl...we just aren't there yet. We also run the unofficial Weems Family Kennel Club. We still don't charge a fee to visit our home, although the petting zoo is available for all guests. We have 3 dogs, 3.5 cats, 3 fish, and a snail. This doesn't count the endless visiting pets that visit with our guests. Luckily we have a big back yard. Our 1/2 cat is up for adoption if anyone is looking. Orphan Annie is a stray cat that stays in our garage on her cat bed at night and hangs around during the day. Recently I took Annie to the vet for a checkup and shots...Orphan Annie is a neutered male, guess its really Orphan Andrew. He is a great cat though. I'd keep him, but we have no takers on the schizophrenic cat we would like to replace.

Growing up I was EXTREMELY shy. My patients never believe me when I try to tell them this and I guess that is a good thing. I still don't enjoy being the center of attention in a large group or giving a speech, but at least I don't almost cry anymore. I graduated from the University of Central Arkansas in 2005 with my Doctor of Physical Therapy degree and work as an outpatient orthopaedic physical therapist. The title of my blog... My So Called Sitcom... comes from work. My coworker always tells me that he could write a sitcom for TV with the stories I tell about my family. My sister expands on this and whenever something funny happens she says "Welcome to the Weems Family" with a very high pitched emphasis on the Weems. Hopefully this blog will be a way for me to share all the stories in my life that I might otherwise forget who I had told them to. (I've become very forgetful since having children)