Status Updates

If I had facebook, my status update for today would be:

Tired (really tired) of getting up and doing the school routine.  Yay!  School's out for 17 days!

--OR--

What did moms do before Clorox wipes were invented?  Especially with boys who pee on the floor/wall every day, smear poop on the toilet seat, and splatter bloody noses all over the bathroom at 5am?  Clorox, I love you!

--OR--

Dopamine levels are right where they should be.  Got my laptop back today from being repaired.

Believing in Santa

Sam actually was excited this year to sit on Santa's lap too.  Three is the magical age when Santa becomes your friend!

We've thought for a few years now that Buddy would learn the truth about Santa young.  He's always seemed suspicious and has always asked a lot of questions about the jolly guy.  The best was a few years ago when he saw the items in his stocking and said, "Looks like Santa Claus shops at the Dollar Tree and Fred Meyer!"  He was 3 years old at the time.

So it surprises us that at age of 7 he believes more than ever.  Although just tonight he asked if Santa is really real... We've determined that all his questions have been to reassure himself that Santa is real and to paint a more elaborate story in his mind of the magic of Christmas.  With all this magic he's created, we think it'll be a good long time before he believes anything different.  We love it that way!

 The boys waiting for the rest of the kids to sit on Santa's lap so they could get their presents.

Case in point:  Last week was G's work Christmas party.  Every year Santa makes an appearance -- and brings gifts.  And this year Buddy was on pins and needles, asking every 30 seconds how many more minutes until he arrived.  Buddy was at a craft station adding glitter to a paper snowflake when he first heard the tinkling of Santa's bell as he came down the hall to the party.  As soon as he heard the bell, Buddy dropped his glitter and literally RAN to Santa.  He ended up the second child (of probably 50) in line to sit on Santa's lap. It was so classic Buddy and I was so glad to be standing right there to witness his innocence and his enthusiasm.

Hopefully he never stops believing.  

My Other Big Boy is 36!

Little G is officially in his "late 30's."  Speaking of growing up so fast!  It seems crazy to think we've been friends for 14 years.  He honestly has hardly changed: besides a few pounds, gray hairs, two degrees, and two kids.  He's almost exactly like he was when I first met him.  Let's see... I wonder if he'll still be listening to pop and/or punk music at 50?!  I wonder if he'll still be madly in love with ribs and snowboarding, loud concerts, and collecting friends?  Here's to lots more birthdays together!  Happy Birthday to my favorite person!

To keep with tradition this year:

Here are his talents:

• Hardworker
• Loyal
• Great sense of humor
• Amazing and involved father
• Responsible
• Easy to get along with.  I've decided that if you can't get along with him, it's your problem.  (I have to remind myself of that at times...)
• Quick to forgive
• Making brownies (I proved last night this is NOT one of my talents.)
• Making clients happy
• Playing with the kids
• Back scratches
• Patience

His Likes:

• Skiing and snowboarding
• Downloading and listening to music
• Going to concerts
• Going out to dinner
• Ribs
• Hamburgers
• Sleeping in
• Going on vacation
• Our boys
• Me
• Reading
• Movies
• Shopping

His Dislikes:

• Hanging Christmas lights (but he does it anyway)
• Getting up early
• Meetings
• Squash
• Cooking (although he's pretty good at it)
• Dishes (but he does them almost every night)
• Poop

Growing Old Gracefully

A couple weeks ago Buddy was sitting next to me on the couch.  He looked over at me, pointed to my hair, and said, "Did you know they make hair dye for those?"
(True, I'm getting some grays.  But I told him I've been too busy planning birthday parties and Christmas to make a hair appointment.) 

Earlier this week Buddy informed me my tummy is getting fatter.
(It's true.)

And then a few days later he told me I look like a teenager, but I'm getting old.
(That's true too.)

Love Days Like This

Last week Nicki, Christy and I made applesauce for the first time.  I absolutely love canning and I love apples, so it sounded like a recipe for a great afternoon.  We spent the entire day canning 100 pounds of aurora apples.  I grossly underestimated how fabulous the applesauce would taste.  It turned out so great!  And the best part?  A full day of fun conversation with wonderful friends.  We can hardly wait until next summer so we can fire up the gas burners and can something else!

This (Little*) Big Boy Turned THREE!

*We are no longer allowed to call him a "little" boy.

I hate it when my boys turn three.  Three is so grown up!  By age three, they think they can do anything "ALL MYSELF!"  Despite turning three, I have still been calling Sambo my baby, and pretending he's a baby, but he hates it.  And that makes the whole growing up thing even worse...

However, Sambo is just about as perfect as they come.  He's been easy from day one and athough in the past few weeks he's been testing limits and thinking he's old enough to do whatever he wants, he's still the easiest three-year old I've ever had, if you know what I mean.

He still follows Buddy around constantly but is starting to become more independent, which is both good and sad.  He idolizes his brother and probably always will. 

Here are his talents:

• Being cute.  He is just so incredibly cute, sometimes we can't stand it.  He is just cute through and through.
• Riding a scooter.  He can ride his razor scooter like nobody's business.  And if the weather was still warm, I'm convinced he would have learned to ride his bike without training wheels.  He is very coordinated and has excellent balance.  He was re-tested when he graduated from 'early intervention' and he scored 100% on gross and fine motor skills.  Meaning 0% of 3-year olds have his mad motor skills.  (To compare, he scored 4% on speech articulation, meaning 96% of 3-year olds pronounce words better than he does.)
• Coloring.  He loves to color and draw.  His only problem is his pathetic teacher/mother is CLUELESS about arts and crafts.  It's a horrible shame, actually.  
• Being a good boy.  He doesn't throw tantrums and generally listens and obeys really well.  He follows directions and wants to please everyone.
• Being happy.  He is super easy to please and finds joy in the simple things in life.
• Cuddling.
• Loving deeply.  He loves, and I mean LOVES his family and friends. 

His Likes:

• Legos
• Candy
• His Brother
• Connor
• Dogs and cats.  (He requested a "cat" birthday party, which I thought was pretty funny.)
• Playing outside
• Riding his bike and scooter
• Coloring
• Watching movies with Buddy
• Playing games
• Helping
• Doing whatever his brother is doing
• Eating snacks
• His new speech class
• Sports
• Cars and trucks
• Pizza

His Dislikes:

• Being treated like a baby
• Applesauce
• Taking naps
• Being fed, dressed, or put in his carseat

Took My Breath Away

My normal radio stations were making my headache worse this morning, so I flipped over to the country station.  The song caught my attention, so I listened to the whole thing.  A google search just now taught me that it's called "Take Your Breath Away" by George Strait. 

I've heard the quote, "Life isn't measured by the breaths you take but by the things that take your breath away," but I've never given it much thought. 

Although corny, the song reminded me of that quote, and really made me think.  The thought came to me that we often remember our lives as a series of events.  But it's the way those events affect us that makes us who we are.  So when I heard the song this morning I determined to start taking notice of things in my boring old life that do take my breath away.  I'll write some of them here, as a way to be grateful for some of the simple and awesome things that happen all the time.  But otherwise would go unrecognized or even forgotten.  I encourage you to do the same on your blog or the comments here. 

To start, yesterday:  I was volunteering in Buddy's class at school while a professional artist gave the kids a lesson in drawing and the techniques of painting with watercolors.  The artist showed the kids some slides of art and colors and asked them all sorts of questions to get their creative juices flowing.  There is one boy in Buddy's class that is, in my opinion, a little socially awkward.  He lives down the road from us, so Buddy made friends with him on the bus and now they sit together on the bus, eat lunch together, and he's been to our house a few times.  He's not an outcast or anything, but not the typical outgoing person that Buddy is normally attracted to, yet for whatever reason (and I've asked myself 100 times why), he has became one of Buddy's closest friends this year.  Anyway, that boy raised his hand and answered one of the artists questions.  Immediately, I noticed Buddy try to make eye contact with the friend from across the room.  Then... I saw Buddy give him a thumbs up.  I hope to never forgot what it means to be a good friend.

Today:  Sambo started a speech class at the early special education offices.  He got all ready for "school," put his backpack on, and told me all the way over to the school that he didn't want me to go in with him.  He wanted me to leave him there so he could be a big boy -- and I did.  He was so cute I could hardly stand it.  And although he won't be three years old until Sunday, he grew up today.

Today:  I was reading a blog post today from one of my favorite bloggers.  She was writing about disciplining her 6-year old triplets and mentioned a comment she received on her blog four years ago, when her triplets were two.  "Shame on you for not possessing the same control you expect of your children."  This comment didn't just take my breath away, but sucked all my air right out of my body.  I am going to use this comment as a guidepost for my parenting.