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....

Mothers Know Everything

I meant to write a post for Mother's Day, but I just didn't get around to it. I had a great weekend with my friend Sarah in Dallas. We came back early Sunday morning and the boys spent the rest of the day with me :-)

My mom was/still is a very special person to me. I always knew she worked hard, but until I had kids I never knew how hard. I have a fantastic husband. He is great with the kids. He helps out with them more than I hear most of my friends say their husbands do. How my mom managed with just herself I will never know. I realize that she had my grandparents, but they weren't there every moment. 

My mom was also not known for her fashion sense. I rarely agreed with what she suggested that we buy growing up. Things were always "cool" to her, when they weren't to anyone else except maybe the buyer for the store. And pantyhose, well those were a relationship sore spot. On the way to my high school graduation we had to stop at KMART because "Stephanie, every other girl will have on pantyhose. This is a dressy occasion" Regardless of the fact that I pointed out that you couldn't see my legs under my robe, we still stopped. I made sure to point out every girl (and by every I mean 99/100 girls walking into graduation) that did not have on pantyhose. At my college graduation, she merely questioned me. "Stephanie, are you going to wear pantyhose with that dress?" I just gave her a look that answered her question. By PT school graduation, I just saw her look at my legs. She never asked. 

Fast forward a couple years later and we are in Dress Barn. My mom insists that I buy this jacket. I argued and argued, but she went as far as to buy the jacket for me. I never wore it. They were not really in style anymore as far as I could tell. I hung it up in the back of my closet and that is were it stayed. Through the past 2 moves even. I go through my closet periodically to pull out stuff to donate. For some reason I have never gotten rid of it. I guess for whatever reason I kept it after she died because it was a reminder of who my mom really was. In the past year though, I have tried it on a couple times. It still fits. And... my mom was right. Jean jackets aren't out of style after all :-) 

I thought about all this on Mother's Day. I know that my mom isn't here to find out all the things I understand about her now. She won't know all the things that I can admit now that she was right about. Or will she. She probably knew all along. And, one day I will realize watching my boys that they knew I was right about one thing or another, even though they will NEVER admit it.

Line Up Your Daughters, We're Raising a Family Man

This past week we have been digging around the house looking for stuff to sell in the neighborhood garage sale this weekend. Of course, any time you do this you find lots of old stuff. For me, I found my tub of stuffed animals and baby dolls that are meaningful for one reason or another. Obviously, the meaning decreases each year I realize that they have been sitting in the attic. It is unlikely that my 2 boys have any real attachment to stuffed animals from my childhood when they are selective about which ones they currently have that they will play with. Also of note, each time I open this container, the amount of stuff I save decreases.

Sunday afternoon I found this container. I opened it and realized quickly that they all smelled pretty awful. Between the musky smell from being put up and the smoky smell they got from being in my house growing up, you can barely breathe when you open it. Yet another reason I become less attached. This time though I thought I might try to wash them. Then I will know if they are salvageable, and if so, which ones would be good to put in the garage sale. This is one of the larger Tupperware style tubs and probably holds 10-15 items. (This is a drastic improvement from the 2-3 tubs full that I had when I moved away to college). First load...success. They all smell great. I washed the second, and they were left in the dryer. Alone in the tub at the end... my newborn baby doll. She is entirely plastic, so I figured she'd require a hand bath and I had yet to find the energy for that.

Today I stayed home from work with Grayson, who was out of school to use up an extra snow day they didn't use this year. Why they didn't just take off a day at the end of the year, no idea. So we started off at the dentist, ran a few errands, then picked up Braxton and came home early. Braxton found my tub, and thus my baby doll. Braxton absolutely adores our friends baby, Braden. He even looks for Braden's car seat in the hall at daycare where they all get lined up. If he sees it, he wants to see Braden. If he doesn't, he wants to know where he is.

So I'm cleaning up the kitchen and I hear him rambling about Baby Brother tired. Baby Brother is also a girl, apparently the anatomical difference was lost on both of my boys as the afternoon went on. ...baby brother was also likely cold as his clothes were in the dryer.

Next thing I hear... Braxton dragging out his pillow and a washcloth. He puts  baby face down on the couch and starts patting his back.

Then of course, my TV is too loud, so Grayson applied some headphones to drown out the noise. I ended up explaining that if we would just put baby in another room, the TV wouldn't bother him.... so they did. And they insisted I find baby some clothes, and turn on Braxton's lullaby CD. Oh, and set a timer so that baby won't sleep more than 10 minutes for a nap. (Any real parent knows that 10 minutes is only enough time to think about what you might do while baby is asleep, not actually accomplish anything)

Other items on the counter ready for garage sale, unused baby bottles. Can you guess where that leads... luckily Braxton allowed me to replace the requested "baby milk" with water.

 
 

Baby Brother cries a lot apparently. He also needs a Paci. Braxton retrieved a paci from the drawer and had me squeeze it in baby's mouth. This is actually quite impressive since Braxton is a paci addict. He only gets his paci at night to fall asleep, but if he happens to get a hold of one during the day.... he'll sneak every moment he can before you catch him.

Time for another nap. Yep, face down on the chair.

But Baby Brother was cold, so we had to drag out every blanket, and the cover for the changing table to keep him warm.

Dinner time at the Weems's house... you bet! This newborn is talented. He can sit up at the table!

Bedtime. As a good parent, I dug around Braxton's bedroom and found his newborn night gown. Baby Brother is ready for bed.

Face Down of course. This baby is bound to be a SIDS statistic.

Now, at some point in all this, Dad comes home from work. I've texted him a couple of pictures. He has never been one to discourage his children from stuff typically reserved for girls, except possibly clothes. He seemed to find the situation amusing. He even went as far as to try to figure out how to keep the bottle from leaking any water while they were feeding Baby Brother. I did at sometime overhear the following while making dinner.

"If you don't leave baby alone for a while, he is going to be really tired"

I'm not sure if Dad was concerned for baby's well being, or was just not sure how much he could take of his sons' including the baby in their daily playtime routine. I did sense a little frustration when he stepped in water coming into the kitchen where the boys had stripped baby down to give him a bath ... with a washcloth and toothbrush. (Hey, at least the boys wanted the baby to be clean right??)

Now come on my mom friends.... which ones of you are slightly excited to see Braxton working on his parenting skills already??  It's not girly for him to have a doll and play house. It just means he is watching some great family dynamics (job sharing) at home and is copying them. We are really raising a true family man! .... now if I can just get dad to model getting his clothes to the laundry hamper, daily dishes, and laundry duty. Then Braxton will be a real keeper!!

Sneaky Story Telling

Yesterday was Easter. Everyone was up late coloring eggs and playing... running in circles through the house... Grayson, Braxton, and our friend Noah had a great time! I'm fairly certain that when we designed the open floor house that we live in.... we were not entirely in understanding of what great fun this layout provides for preschoolers!! 

Grayson is in a phase where he is scared to go sleep alone. He has quite the imagination so I am sure that this is partly to blame. He is afraid of the dark, afraid of his room, afraid of shadows... you name it. I suppose that this follows all the stuff I've read about having a vivid imagination that just won't shut off for bedtime. So the night before Easter, we suggested that he could camp out on Braxton's bedroom floor. He ended up waking up in the middle of the night and moved camp to our bedroom floor. I for one was excited about the Easter Bunny's visit to our house so I tried to not be too quiet as I started getting ready for church. Eventually Grayson got up and I caught him wandering out into the living room in search of his Easter Basket. He was very excited.... especially when he saw his sand bucket.

"MOM!! The Easter Bunny knew EXACTLY which toy I wanted!!!"

This was fantastic news considering he had seen this bucket several weeks ago at SAMs and nearly had a fit because we didn't buy it for him. Guess its a good thing the Easter Bunny loves him ;-)

Later that day the boys were playing outside and "Aunt Missy" was outside bathing Chester. When I went outside I was summoned over to her. This is pretty close to how this conversation went...

Lyssa: Did you tell Grayson that he can help me?
Me: No, but he can.
Lyssa: Well I didn't think so. He wanted to help and I asked him if he asked you.
    (this is a rough translation of their conversation)
      Grayson: Yes, she said I could
      Lyssa: Did she tell you that you could, or are you just saying that she did?
      Grayson: She told me I could, but don't tell her that she told me.

So from this conversation, we can deduct that 
1) Grayson is sneaky (I believe I used to get called this by my mom... I'm sure she smiles when she hears his tall tales and how sneaky he is... )
2) My sister has picked up some parenting intuition while being here with the boys.

I'm sure that the boys will be heartbroken when Missy moves out, but I'm sure she'll stop by to babysit... I mean eat dinner ;-) Perhaps we can start a routine "date night" with Aunt Missy for the boys.