Nuts and ....what!?!

The facts of life have started evolving in our home. And growing up with only girls, I have found myself at a loss for words on more than one occasion. I try. I try to not act surprised, angry, or fall out in fits of laughter. I try to be the mom all the experts say to be. Answer questions honestly and with just the right amount of information. But how exactly do you decide what is "enough" information? I suppose sometimes the kids just lead you right to the answer.

Braxton is friends with a girl in his Kindergarten class. Friends. Don't mistakenly refer to her even as a girl friend. Or even a friend who is a girl. To Braxton, she is simply Ella. Ella is a fantastic little girl. She is fearless and adventurous. Ella also has an older brother. One day Braxton pops out in conversation

"Mom (matter-of-factly and demanding my attention), Ella says that girls don't have nuts" 

As I choke down my internal fit of laughter I calmly answer him with "No. Ella is right. Girls don't have nuts." This is of course followed by the conversation with the usual... "Why Not?"...."Well, those are part of what makes you a boy. If Ella had the same parts you do, then she wouldn't be a girl." 

I thought our conversation had met the qualifications for providing enough information. Until the next morning when I learned that his mind was still churning. Not sure how I came to that conclusion, because we all know that Braxton's mind is continuously spinning its wheels. You might not recognize it outwardly, but eventually you will get the next bit of information from him that reminds you.

So the next morning we go through the usual routine. I wake Adelyn and Dad gets the boys to come downstairs. Braxton generally heads straight for our room to try to sneak a few minutes snuggled up in our bed. That particular night his sister had made her away across the hall and climbed in bed with us. So I change her there, while she is still mostly groggy and asleep. As soon as I get her pajama bottoms off she does the usual little baby/toddler move and rolls over on her belly. Booty up. 

I then, as if he has never noticed her tail end in the past two and half years,  hear "OOOOOH. Now I get it. Girls just have a slit." *Braxton makes a top to bottom slicing motion in the air with his finger*

Again I make my best attempt not to laugh, but can't hold back my smile. And then I give my best just enough information answer.

 "Yes. Yes they do son." 

"I sure am glad I am a boy then Mom"

And there you have it. In his little mind, nuts are better than slits. Hopefully this educational moment did not become some of the information that he proudly chooses to share at school.

"Mom, can I have your Diamonds?"

What do ball sacks, boobs, marriage, and football have in common? All of them are hot topics at our house.... and it's not my husband talking. Just our boys.

Did you just fall out of your chair? Me too. Well actually I fall out of mine every time they ask another question, or sometimes before they even speak. I'm never sure whether I want to laugh, cry, or stop breathing when they open their mouths these days.

ON MARRIAGE:

Braxton with all of his 5 years of wisdom has decided that marriage is just not for him. (Sorry girls, pick a new boy.) You may have heard me mention that he doesn't want to have to move to someone else's house so he would rather just stay with me. Well, his thoughts have continued and he has furthered his decisions based upon them. True Story:

Brax: "I'm not going to get married. It takes too long to stay married."
Grayson: "You have to get married. That is what grown ups do."
Brax: "Well I am not going to get married. I want to be a football player instead" (This indicates that he has decided that marriage is a job - he is already enlightened - and he only wants one job)
Grayson: "Braxton you have to marry a girl."
Brax: "No I don't. I'm going to be a football player, live with mom for a while, and then come live at your house with you and your girl you marry."
Mom: "Brax, you can be a football player and get married. Lots of girls like football players"
Brax (With Sigh): "Yeah, I know. I like the Cheerleaders." 

WTH? Where did he learn about cheerleaders?!? And noticing them? I'm not ready for him to grow up and notice girls!!

ON BOOBS: 

Braxton also recently asked "What are those things on your chest?" (Geez. Why do they always ask mom about anatomy) Boobs Braxton. They are boobs. This conversation led to further discussion about boobs, who gets boobs, when they get boobs, why do they get boobs...can all girls feed babies with their boobs, do they always have milk in them, and can Adelyn still get milk from you when she is thirsty? *Reminder to not have discussions about anatomy with Braxton while Grayson is around to further the discussion* Braxton walked in my bathroom while I was changing a couple days later. I had on my bra... but all he could do was let out an innocent giggle and say "Boobs". Then he ran out. 

ON BALL SACKS:

This is all Grayson...and his friend Will. God love him, he is a great kid. He is also very knowledgeable. I can't fault his parents for not making sure he is aware of the world around him. So we are on our way after school to Target and Gray chimes in.
G:"Mom, what is a ball sack?"
Mom: "Um. It's part of what makes you a boy, but a slang term for it. What were you thinking that made you ask that?"
G: "Will told me that you can cut off a cow's ball sack and it won't die. Then you can boil the balls and eat them"
**Nearly choked on my own spit**

So that led to a discussion about how Will is technically correct and what is actually in the quote - ball sack-. And that as a general rule most people do not eat these. Luckily he has yet to ask further purpose of this anatomy past my usual answer of "they are part of what makes you a boy". Although I am sure it is coming soon. I've also been getting quizzed on how boys can turn into girls and girls into boys. He informed me that a classmate knows someone who has had this happen to them. I'm guessing we are talking gender reassignment but I am not entirely sure how to explain this without confusion to a 7 year old.

ON DIAMONDS:

I've read that Minecraft can actually be good for some coordination and thinking skills. Both my boys have had spiked interest in rocks and crystals with playing this game. Braxton noticed my wedding ring the other day and asked where on earth I got diamonds. When I told him they were from his dad I am certain that his deep brown eyes sparkled a little. A couple days later he asks if he can have my diamonds when I die. 

Wait. Did my 5 year old just ask that? Better get my will updated and very detailed to prevent sibling rivalry after the fact. 

I told Braxton that I didn't plan on dying any time soon. His response.... "Weeellll, someone MIGHT kill you. Then can I have them?" 

*Prime Suspect if I disappear*

My Husband's Son

Its always been my favorite thing to say when one of my kids is misbehaving.... "Honey, YOUR SON, is making me crazy." "YOUR son just XYZ", or as is becoming more frequent, "YOUR Daughter just climbed onto the table and ...." You get the idea. Lately though, its all about Braxton. Call it his personality or blame it on Middle Child Syndrome or the fact that he is a Scorpio child, but at least once a week I get to give the report after opening his school folder. "Honey, YOUR son got in trouble for talking and interrupting the teacher again today" Shock. You just all fell out of your chairs. Dustin's son talks in class too much? Seriously? No Way! Pick yourselves up off the floor because its true. He has a child that has so much to say he just can't keep it bottled up inside. 

The first few weeks at school his daily report came home all smiley faces and GREAT DAY! I almost asked the teacher if she had my son mixed up with another child because he was always bounding full of energy at daycare and I was skeptical that he would be interested in sitting and paying attention at school. Of course this social butterfly was nearly devastated when he didn't have a new best friend by the end of the first week of PreK. Then they slowly started to show up. 

"Braxton had a little trouble settling down for nap today. He was talking to his neighbors" (HA! I've been waiting for the day that he didn't nap at school. This little Night Owl does not need a nap.)

"Braxton talked over the teacher several times today"

"Braxton spent a lot of time giving instructions to his friends after the teacher was finished. Talked to him about not worrying about his friends and letting the teacher do her job"

Then more frequently they appeared. And now they are weekly. Or were. Last week we had more than one. I try to have conversations with him, but typically I'm afraid my words of wisdom go straight Left to Right never to be bothered with other than a practiced "Yes Ma'm" At one point over the past couple of weeks we received a note indicating that Braxton had trouble getting settled for nap and that he spent an unnecessary amount of time in the bathroom prior to nap.

Me: Hey Brax, did you have trouble at nap time today?

B: No. I was fine

Me: Did you spent much time doing things you shouldn't to avoid nap today?

B: Umm. No?

Me: So you didn't go to the bathroom for too long before nap time?

B: No. All I did was stand in there and look at the walls before nap. I wasn't late.

Me: Well that's not what the note said.

B: *Insert Quick change of tone and quizzical/concerned sound* What Note?!? Let me see that Note!

Followed by "Braxton had trouble being quiet and still at nap today and kept disrupting his neighbors." Again... when DHS will provide alternative suggestions for children who do not require a nap I will feel more sorry for this occurrence, but I will be supportive and try to help the poor teacher out. She doesn't make the rules that all children must be offered nap time. I'm sure she lives for these few minutes a day and Brax is stealing her one calm and peaceful time between 8 and 2:45. 

Braxton even lost some free time in his Centers in class. 

Me: Brax did you get in trouble with Mrs. Baker for talking when you shouldn't again?

B: Yeah (Sounds defeated)

Me: Did you yell in the cafeteria?

B: Yeah. But I was just talking to my friends.

Me: That is disrespectful to talk when it is your teacher's turn to talk and to yell when everyone is trying to eat. Why did you yell?

B: Because I wanted to. (Just matter-of-factly... as if this is not a big problem.)

Me: Did you have to miss some play time in Centers?

B: Yeah, but not that much mom. It's okay. 

It's as if he thought about the fact that his particular fun times in class today weren't worth the effort of being good. How do you even discipline this when he just doesn't seem to care? Talking to friends is the Best. Thing. Ever.

Today's note; however, it takes the cake. I barely could keep myself from laughing when my husband walks in with the boys and tells me that Braxton is no longer allowed to wear spiked hair to school. WHAT? I finally got it cut so its in dress code and we are in trouble over this?! Not sure if I'm more surprised that he gets in trouble over his spiked hair the first time I fixed it spiked like he wanted it (Dad didn't do it right last Friday apparently) or that my husband has started checking the behavior folder himself so he isn't slammed with YOUR SON comments as soon as I open it. 

I mean really. I am at a loss. What 5 year old is so excited about their spiky hair that they distract their classmates in story time!?! So I decide that we are going to write Mrs. Baker an apology letter. Well, type it anyway. I was thinking it would make him have to work on letter recognition off the keyboard and think about how he was missing play time at home. I did get a sigh as he drug himself off of the couch where he was playing a game on the iPad, so he was at least somewhat bothered. Then he decided this was a fun activity and was laughing as he looked for letters. Who knows if he can even tell me why he had to write the note anymore. #ParentingFail Oh - and if you read this Mrs. Baker, he tried to draw you an Owl but it was taking too long and I wouldn't help him so he changed his picture to a bear. His art skills apparently don't allow for owls. But at least he used more than one color of crayon. Baby Steps.

Charlie's Magic

We have an Elf on The Shelf. Charlie. Charlie joined our family a few years ago and came back again after Thanksgiving to remind the kids to be good for Santa. Grayson is all in. Braxton, well he wants more answers.

Braxton: Mom, why did you move Charlie this morning?
Me: I didn't move Charlie.
Braxton: So he just appeared. (with a questioning/attitude in it tone)
Me: Yes.
Braxton: He just goes where he wants to? (same attitude)
Me: Yes. He goes and sees Santa and comes back to a new spot.
Braxton: He just appears.
Me: Yes.
Braxton: Huh. (Confused and sounding disbelieving)

He hasn't mentioned Charlie since then and did get into the morning search for Charlie. Tonight at dinner; however, he asked when Charlie would be coming back. Perhaps Santa's visit sparked something in him. 

"But What's It Called?"

Grayson is growing up. Getting Curious. Lucky Me. He has made a few comments along the way that really made us think we were going to get to have the "where babies come from talk". Age appropriate of course. Then he just moves on. He was originally concerned that when Adelyn was being born that he would have to be in the room and witness my "guts" lying on the table. He requested that we let him wait to meet her until the doctor was finished with that part. 

Then there are the days that I drive by the hospital where she was born. Alone in the car, just the two of us. Every time he has a question or comment. Every. Time. Just the two of us. Several weeks ago the conversation started again.

Gray: Mom, how do you get a baby?
Me: (Trying not to sigh out loud) Moms and dads have babies.
Gray: Dads don't have babies.
Me: No. But you need a mom and a dad to have a baby. (OOPS! Possibly just set myself up)
Gray: Yeah. You need both because dads can teach you how to play video games. Moms aren't good at that.

Well that was close. 

Last Week:
Gray: Mom, did it hurt when they took sister out of your chest (WTH he saw my belly)
Me: She wasn't in my chest. She was in my tummy.
Gray: Oh yeah. Well how can they take her out. Your Nose? (Guess he was just thinking about where openings were)
Me: No. Moms don't have babies through their noses. (At this point I was really wishing I had to have C-sections. You other moms have it easy for a while)
Gray: Well where do they come out?
Me: (cussing out the fact that I haven't learned to take a different route) Well, remember how you have boy private parts? Girls have their own so moms can have babies.
Gray: Where is it?
Me: .......By my legs. Similar to where yours are. (He recently re-informed me that I did not have a penis)
Gray: Well you can't see it.
Me: No.
Gray: Well how do babies come out?
Me: Babies are in part of your tummy that has strong muscles to push them out when they are ready. (probably set myself up more, but I didn't have a faster answer)
Gray: Well what is it called where they come out? What is a girl's called?
Me: ...remembering that you shouldn't lie or make up names... so I tell him the answer.
Gray: Ok. So are we eating at home tonight or picking a place?

How can he just move on so easily. I nearly need CPR. I feel like my chest is tightening. Why must I drive by the hospital? Why do these questions never come up when anyone else is with us? Sigh. Never Again. Never. Or, well the daycare is a couple blocks from the hospital. We can't avoid it. Think I will look around for a new daycare.

Buy Two Get One Free

So Rewind to June 2013. We had been debating the 3rd kid thing for a few months. Well, lets be honest. I was debating the 3rd kid thing. My husband wasn't exactly on board, but if it was something that would complete my life he would at least have the discussion. We were actually on vacation in Florida with our kids, staying at "our beach house" as Grayson likes to call it. (I wish it was the truth son, but your stuff costs too much) The boys were exhausted and in bed and we were taking a few minutes to sit around and talk. Just what he loves. (Okay, he does love to talk, but probably not about more kids). He finally came out and said that he was perfectly fine with 2. I thought maybe he had been a little more on the fence where I was, but maybe that was wishful thinking. After a couple days of thinking over our discussion I finally came to the conclusion that I was happy. I was totally happy with my two fantastic boys. And they are boys. Energetic. Love to be on the go and in the dirt. Totally opposite of my calm self.

September 2013. There were maybe a couple weeks where we had any chance at getting pregnant. Knowing that I had always required medication to ovulate with the first two kids I wasn't terribly worried. My doctor has always told me that just because I needed medicine with the first two didn't mean that I NEVER ovulated. Just that I didn't regularly. Knowing this I purchased some ovulation test kits just to be sure that nothing was going to happen without me being aware of it. Negative tests. After several days of this I felt a little bloated and just not right so I figured I would just call the clinic and ask for a refill prior to my appointment. After all the testing we have been through, I knew she would ask if I had taken a pregnancy test since before she would refill it. So I did just that. At 11:00 on a Wednesday night. The pregnant line appeared before the one that is always there, in less than the 3 minutes you are supposed to wait. WHAT??? HOW ON EARTH COULD THAT BE?? So after several minutes of a rapid heartbeat and sitting in the bathroom I made my way across the house and just sat the test next to my husband. And sat down. I think he had the same reaction as I did. It took a few seconds before he even said anything. Guess that joke I've had for years about "Buy Two, Get one Free when we are 40" was essentially true. Luckily we aren't 40 yet. Thursday morning at work I was still in shock. Then I open an email from my coworker "I dreamed last night that you and I were both pregnant" I practically fell out of the chair. And then I suggested maybe she should go buy herself a pregnancy test.

Pregnancy #3 was a little more of an adventure than the previous ones. My doctor informed me that she thought it was a girl. "Girls cause trouble from day one". I think I complained every day and ate Zofran like candy (within the rules..why didn't anyone tell me about that fantastic medication with the first two?). I had zero desire for food, but apples and starburst (eventually) were pretty good. And I LOVED real Coke. Not the Coke Zero that I usually liked. Diet Everything was out. When the Ultrasound Tech said "Girl". Dusty asked her to repeat it. And to show him how she could tell. We really thought he was 99% Y chromosomes by now. But, "1%" chance of ovulation test being inaccurate and 1% chance we would have a girl both came true. Grayson was at our first Ultrasound as well. When he heard it was a girl "I told you it was a girl. We didn't need to come here today." Of Course we didn't, but we needed visual proof of his predictions. Bring on the Pink. And Purple. (When did I get girly?) 

Baby Girl Weems 16 Weeks

I am not sure, but being pregnant in general, especially with baby #3, brings every evil comment out from people. And seeing as how I deal with lots of strangers on a daily basis they had all kinds of jokes. You have to love "Well you know how this happens by now right?" Of course we do you idiot. And yes it's only one baby. My abdominal muscles are no longer that of a 20 year old girl, but rather an early 30's mother of 2. And I have "healthy-sized" babies. Thanks for making my day. I managed to refrain from being a bitch to everyone. I just cried instead. 

I cried EVERYDAY. Some days it was over something real. Other days it was because the wind blew my dog's hair a little too far to the left. If you know me well, you know that I don't cry. Ever. Well, occasionally when the stress builds up for too long and I shed 2 tears to feel better. I think only one person has ever actually witnessed that.

After a long wait and having to listen to Grayson explain to Braxton that the baby doesn't have a door we can get her out of Mom's tummy through (he was very inpatient while having to wait on this "stister"), we got our girl. Totally Unplanned, but exceptionally loved by everyone. Especially her Brothers. And true to Grayson's request we did not make him come to the hospital and have to see all of mom's guts when they took sister out. (We might have slyly bypassed the story on how babies are actually born)

What, when did I buy a bow like this? I swore no big bows.

One of my Favorites. Hospital gown and all. You can just see how much they love "Stister"

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Life of a Basketball Wife

My husband LOVES basketball. I'm fairly certain that in his dreams at night he thinks he is playing in the NBA. At least he doesn't act them out. Typically he doesn't really sit down to watch many games and if he does he is also working on the computer. (We all know he can't sit still for very long) This year; however, he made a point to either record or watch some of the NBA finals. I'm fine with this, but struggled with trying to figure out why after 11 years of being married he had changed his habit. I will likely never know.

For Father's Day this year I actually had an idea. I wanted to buy a basketball goal. Apparently several months ago when he was pricing them out at Academy I suggested (in my attempt to prevent a purchase that evening) that we look again around Father's Day. I should have known this would be one thing he actually remembered me saying. So when I mentioned I had an idea he quickly asked if it was a basketball goal. I lied. I was irritated that he actually remembered and guessed my idea. But, he believed me so that worked out well. After much thinking, and worrying about planning, I realized that it was unlikely that I could figure out a plan to go buy one and put it together without some serious help. So I just took him shopping.

We went Friday night and he picked out a couple he was interested in, but we determined that it wouldn't fit in the car. Saturday evening we stopped back again and made the big purchase. Never did I know that buying a basketball goal at dinner time would have me awake until after midnight that night. But, it was finished slightly before 1 a.m. He said he couldn't not get where he could actually play before he went to bed that night. Crazy boy. But, he loves basketball.

We have played several times. By play I actually mean shoot hoops. I'm not competitive enough to really play a game. Plus I have to improve to stand a chance at winning, or at least shop for a lower cut tank top to play in. Generally we play after the boys are in bed when its cooler outside. I had forgotten that I actually like to "play". So its a nice "date" some days.

My husband, who is obviously more competitive, plays like he is 15 again. Running, Jumping, Shooting, Attempting to dunk.... you get the idea. Of course the knee pain he had originally was from his shoes ;-) The right shoulder pain started and was blamed on dunking attempts. Then he decided one evening to practice his (rebounding of some name that I can't remember) and tried to make all my missed shots turn into baskets. This really made his shoulder hurt. Of course when 7 a.m. rolled around he blamed it on Braxton thinking he had been lying down funny when Braxton moved to our bed. Braxton was only there for 5 minutes so that was obviously not the real reason. So now I have a husband who can't lift his arm above 90 degrees and he can't lift much weight at all without shooting pain. But, like most husbands, he seems disinterested in letting me work on his shoulder with my PT skills.

We had a basketball date schedule for that night, but I figured that we wouldn't get to play. I was wrong.
"I will just play with my left arm. Its probably more level playing for you anyway"

I guess that's love for me... or likely more for getting to play basketball. Too bad both his shoulders hurt now....