Dying cats

M and I consider ourselves excellent parents. We are the best. And we give the BEST advice. . . For example.

Today the water heater thingy-ma-bobber downstairs crapped out on us. We didn't know this since we live UPstairs and another tenant lives downstairs and since she got home from work at 5pm, we knew nothing until we chose to cut the boys' hair and give them a bath. I proceeded to start up the bath, unawares. About 30 seconds later our neighbor was knocking frantically on our door, explaining the situation.

Advice #1: Quickly turn off your bathtub water and proceed with the hair cuts as planned even though you have no indoor plumbing to use. It is the logical and sensible thing to do anyway.

E was the first voluntary victim of the haircut and he left quite satisfied with a nice new 'do. Of course, to get him to the satisfied feeling, we had to bribe him with candy, trick him into looking for my computer, and give him a Popsicle. Hair cuts just aren't what they used to be. 


A was next. He was also a happy volunteer, until  M made him look down, to the side, and to the other side. I could hear him informing  M that, 'you are choting (choking) me!' or ' stop dat, you're hurting me!' In the end there were no casualties from the hair cuts. Although my son would probably disagree. 
While M was buzzing A's hair I turned on the hose, getting ready to wash them off outside. 

Advice #2: Turn on your hose outside so you can spray you kids down after the sun has set and the water has gotten cold. Very. Very. Cold.

At first our kids were excited! A was in his undies doing a happy dance and E was just butt naked running around. The anxiety of what I was going to do next to my child was killing me. I held the hose in my hands feeling the cool breeze outside as well as the ice water streaming from the hose. I shivered a little myself and I was dry!

Advice #3: If you're going to hose them down with ice water, do it fast!

A went first. I asked him to come close; so, unaware of what was going to happen, he trotted up to me. *anxiety!* I looked at M and then back at A, shuddering inside because of what I was about to do. I took a deep breath and soaked him with the hose. 


At first there was no sound. The shock of being soaked with ice water had momentarily killed his reaction time. He took in a staggered deep breath, his body shuddered, and a scream I've only heard come out of a dying cat, exploded from A's mouth! And of course because I liked the noise so much and because he was still not fully cleansed of his free floating hairs, I sprayed him again! He danced across the lawn, bellowing like a bull who's just been branded, or a dying cat, which ever imagery you prefer.

Advice #4: If you're the towel holder, like Daddy M was; make sure you stand there in shock long enough for the water to really penetrate the victim before you swoop them up in a bundle of warmness. 

Finally, A was wrapped up, mostly dry and a bit shell shocked. He was taken over to the hammock for some special treatment. That was our recovery unit for the severely "frozen" 3 year olds.  


While all of this was happening. Little E just stood there and enjoyed the show in all his naked glory. He had no clue what was going on, or what was going to be happening to him next. Mwua ha. I did not want to be the bestower (is that even a real word?) of torture twice, so M took the hose and terrorized E. He screeched in circles across the sidewalk as M chased him down with the hose and washed him up as well. I could see his little belly suck in as he evaded the hose, screaming like an even nastier dying cat/ crazy bull! His bellow was in the range of a high C. Dogs were howling everywhere! (slight exaggeration) 


These are the noise to be proud of these days if you're a parent. If you can create that screech, then you've done your job right..!? *cough*. And we managed to create it twice! We. Are. so good. 

*big cheesy gloating grin* 

I happened to be a better towel holder than  M and little E was quickly wrapped up and warmed. He snuggled close to my body, curled up into a little ball. His eyes as large as a rodent being squeezed.

Advice #5: After you have sprayed your kids down, be sure to laugh extra hard, because it is splendid entertainment to watch them jump out of their skin in horror. Howling in protest.

We finally finished. The cops weren't called on us. *whew!* And our children seemed to be ok. As a matter of fact, as Daddy M was carrying A into the house, he looked at the hose again and then up at M. He brightly asked, 'Spray me uh-den! (again)'. I think they'll be ok. :)


*No children were harmed while in the participation of this act. Only tremendously surprised and extremely cold for about 15 seconds. 

The rug

Yes, the rug. It was love at first sight. I wandered around the store hunting for the perfect rug. And there she was- glowing! She lay there all beautiful and green and perfectly stitched. I just had to have her. 20 some-odd dollars later she was mine. I proudly carried her home, ready to place her on our bathroom floor, knowing our relationship would be splendid. How could it not be with that beautiful green color!

Our relationship started out wonderfully. She kept the floor warm, she added such flavor to the bathroom, she kept my kids from slipping when they were wet.... but then it happened. I'm not sure what provoked it, but A and the green rug fought. Maybe she made him slip, I don't know, but he decided to poo on her. Just a teensy bit! But enough that she had to be removed from our bathroom and sat outside and waited for someone to wash her.

At first I was eager to keep her clean! As soon as she went outside she was hosed down, washed and quickly dried; which is when she was lovingly brought back inside to grace our bathroom floor. But A was relentless! A few days later, there was more POO on the rug. Then pee. More poo. More pee. A bit of puke. Some blood. My beautiful rug spent more time outside than in! Every time we clean her and bring her back inside she gets defiled!

Some weeks, the rug will be outside for a few weeks before we clean it. And during those weeks there will be no accidents, no messes, nothing! And as soon as we bring her back in, she gets messed up again! I tell you, my beautiful rug is cursed! I don't know what happened, but our relationship has turned sour. I hate the green rug! I hate the mess! I hate that she cannot stay clean for more than one day! And I am sure, that for the rest of her existence in our house, she will rain down poo, pee, puke and blood. Curse the rug!

Professional Photos!!

A turned three June 24th and we just barely got is three year photos and we're ecstatic at how wonderful they are!!!

Well there you have it! A very photogenic three year old. We're so glad Dan was able to take these pictures for us!

http://www.danhixsonphotography.com/index2.php

Music warms the soul

Sometimes a story will just have to do. I have no pictures of what transpired last night, but hopefully my story will make you feel like you can see what went down. :)

A and E were put to bed at their usual time. E was having a particularly troubling time getting to sleep because he hadn't seem Daddy M all day and he wanted to be with him. We put the gate up in front of their door to keep them from coming out. So what they like to do it stand at the gate.E you can barely see. It's just these two little hands hanging onto the gate and two little eyes straining to poke over the top. And then A just a head taller than him, smiling his infectious grin, with the hopes that it'll attain him freedom. After about 5 minutes of being ignored the whining and crying begins. Daddy M was much more patient with them last night since he'd been gone the majority of the day and went back into their room. When they both saw him coming their direction they giggled ecstatically, turned, and ran onto their beds. Daddy M sang them some more songs and then told A to sing some songs to E so he could leave. Daddy M, left the room with E screeching behind his ankles and running over to the gate again, expressing his feelings of ultimate betrayal as Daddy M stepped over the gate. A did not seem to noticed the displeased crowd and could be heard quietly singing in the background. When the crying didn't cease from E, Daddy M went back to the bedroom and collected E, who instantly curled into a ball in Daddy M's arms and rested his head on his shoulder. 

It was then that A realized his audience had left and began to cry. Daddy M asked him what was wrong, and through the sad little tears A explains that, "I wan' to seeng Twintle Twintle Wittle Star to Ees**." Daddy M with a great big smile on his face told A that he could sing to E in a second. 
M and I went back to talking with E still cuddled on his shoulder. It was quiet for a moment in the boys' room for about 10 seconds and then we both heard A begin singing quietly and our hearts melted: 

"Twintle Twintle Wittle Star. 'ow I wunder what you are. Up a above da worrld so high. Lite a diamon' in da sty. Twintle Twintle wittle star. 'ow I wunder what you are."

I peeked around the corner and saw A kneeling on the floor by his dresser his little hands curled in his lap and his sad little head pointing down. Daddy M decided to bring E back to his own bed for A's sake and when A saw that he was coming back he started to sing more vigorously for his little brother, excitedly getting up and hopping into his bed. Both boys ended up falling asleep quite contentedly after that. 

Life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments

There are things that seem to come into my life that move me beyond words. My emotions overflow, often in my case, into tears. Today I watched a movie that did just that to me. Filled my heart with happiness, sadness, and thoughts I haven't nourished in a long while. I just watched the movie, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and found myself here, thinking. What am I? What was I born to do? There was the dancer, the artist, the mother, the musician, the swimmer. If life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments, then what moments have made my life? What has made me who I am? From the day I was born, I began to paint my masterpiece, I began to create moments that defined me. The little girl twirling in the dresses and chasing bullfrogs. The young adolescent playing soccer and leading her team. That teenager that loved so much and then lost it all. The mother of two little boys and the wife of a good man. My moments have only just begun. My masterpiece is only beginning to take form.

I look at those I love around me and can now see so many beautiful tapestries of lives. My father, a tapestry of adventure, excitement, solace in the woods, great love and great sadness; his painting, like many of ours is beginning to change in a way he did not expect. I can see his life and I can feel how much character and life he's put into it. He's bright reds, bright oranges and yellows that intertwine with blues and greens. There's a new color there, an unfamiliar color as he takes the next journey in his life and learns what the Lord has in store for him. I can see my mother, her painting is just as glorious as my father's, but also so very different. There's gentle hands, and a gentle voice, there's great love and sadness as well, there's energy- like an ocean wave that pulls the water out to sea, it's impossible not to get caught up in her energy. She shines like a sunset over the ocean. It's so gentle, the colors are so soft, but the light from the sun is still stunning. My mother's life is vibrant blues, deep purples, and sparkling with yellows and reds.

It is my time to see what colors I've painted my life with. It is my time to find what moments I want, to define me.

I am full of eagerness at what my life has in store for me. Maybe I will be the dancer, the musician, the mother, or the lover.

Sleepy

Kids crack me up. Today the boys ran around with me doing errands for a good portion of the morning. We made it home around 2:30 pm with M in the car. He was sick and asked if we could come pick him up. M collected A and E for their naps. E went willingly, mostly because he was already passed out, but A woke up as soon as the car stopped running. M came out to get him and told him it was time for nap time. Immediately he beings to cry and scream and throw a fit, all the while telling M that "I'm NOT tired! I'm NOT tired! I'm SPOSED to be AWAKE!!" M and I are just chuckling to ourselves because even though he's saying he's not tired, he's clearly putting on a show that says to us, "PLEASE put me to bed! For the love of ...something... PUT me to bed!!!"

Which we gladly did.