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)