Wednesday, December 29, 2010

All Kin'a Holiday Fun

So, as some of you may know, J has been trying to grow his hair out for some time. I blogged about it here and meant to post pictures but uh, yeah---I didn't.

Anyway, it hasn't really panned out. He just doesn't have the Fabio type hair, and it was taking FOOOOOOOREEEEEEEVER.

I started nagging him a couple of weeks ago to get it cut because I just didn't like it most of the time. It bugged him too.

So he finally threw in the towel and let me cut it last night. I've honed my clipper skills in the last several months, practicing on Bo and Danyo-- so I was more confident going into it than I have been in a long time.


I gave him a rattail. It was awesome. And by awesome, I mean, 1985 cried at the beauty of it.

But that's not the best part. I didn't tell him I was doing it. I kept waiting for him to say he felt something on his neck still, or feel me pulling on it as I tried to trim around it. We were watching our friends' kids and I was dying for them to come back so they could see my work of art before he busted me. I finished before they came back, and he took a shower. I was sure he'd come down from his shower, laughing and call me out on it. He did not. All the while, I could not stop laughing and several times I had to play it off as something else making me laugh.

Finally our friends arrived and I had her check out J's haircut. She looked at it and was telling me I did a good job and suddenly saw the rattail and started laughing right out loud. That's when J got nervous. He said, "Why are there two women laughing about my hair!?"

I totally figured he'd think I was hilarious and awesome at the same time and I thought he'd at least humor me for two days and leave it on, since he didn't have to go to work and there are TONS of people here who could enjoy it for those two days. But he made me take it off right away. Party pooper.

Plus, he says he trusts me about 26% less now.

However, for THIS----I have pictures.
You are welcome.
These were all taken before he knew, and with our flip camera, so they aren't the greatest quality pictures. But really, a rattail in and of itself is all the quality these photos need.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Things My Kids Say

We continued our copied tradition of elves leaving little gifts for the kids in their stockings, 12 days before Christmas. Combine a late night, Mom's er...Elves' forgetfulness, and a slightly messy house in which Mom decides it's okay for the kids to learn a little lesson, they did not get a treat left in their stocking one night. I'm always curious about how much Danyo takes in on things. He is very....weird when it comes to communicating some things. A very classic conversation with him, "Did you put that stool on your bed?"
"For what?"
"Because I did."
"I know you did, what did you use it for?"
"Because I can."

ad nauseum

So, I was surprised and delighted to hear him grumble to me, "Those stupid elves didn't leave anysing in my stocking."

This morning Avee was straightening up her room post-friend-over-tornado and I peeked my head in to check on it. She had done a spectacular job but there were little pieces of sequins and glitter all over her floor that hadn't been before.

"Avee! Why is that all over the floor!?"
"Oh, I put it there, it's glitter. I wanted my room to be sparkly clean."

And I'mmmmm out.

Bo has been enlightened about Christmas this year. I have to admit, I wasn't sure it would be this soon, and I thought I'd be sad about him not getting worked up about Santa and writing letters, but it's been fun in its own way to be open with him. He's very funny. Reminding me of things we can and cannot talk about. I think I need to document why exactly he knows at 7. He's definitely been suspicious for several months and I just always said, "What do you think?" And in every conversation, he wasn't quite ready to give it up yet.
Then about a month ago we were at our friends house and I caught Bo holding their five year old's arms behind his back, like he was arrested, and demanding, "Give me three good reasons why Santa is real!" I realized he was taking a page from J's book, (Give me three good reasons why I should let you watch this Pokemon show) and adding a little of Bully Bo to it. I snatched him up quickly and took him to another room and scolded him about strong arming a younger kid (the two of them wrestle all the time and either Liam always smiles, or he really doesn't mind) and said, "Santa isn't real, but it is NOT your job to tell other people and the second you tell another child who believes, is the second you stop getting presents."

"I knew it! I KNEW it!!" That was his response. I think later he felt some sadness at the loss of Santa, but told me, it was all good because the presents still come, and if you think about it, it's pretty obvious Santa is make-believe.

Later when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas he told me he'd like the costume for the "Hide yo kids, hide yo wives" guy. I told him he was never getting that and that Dad needed to stop watching stuff like that with him. He said, never. I figured as much.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Contusions and Tattling

We just got back from a lovely visit to Missouri. I've been working on a book for my mom for some time now, and finally got to give her the completed project. J had taken the week off from work, so we capitalized on his time off with a quick trip. The kids missed three days of school. I hope they don't flunk out now.

Bo fell last week playing in our first snow. He complained it hurt, but I looked at his leg, and he seemed okay the next day. 5 days later, while in Missouri, I noticed him limping pretty considerably. I looked at his leg and it was swollen. I of course, started feeling like the world's greatest mom, sure that it was fractured and I hadn't noticed for 5 days. I took him to the doctor Thursday morning and nothing was found in the x-ray. He still limps quite a bit. The good news is, even if it was fractured, they wouldn't cast it because it's the fibula, non-weight bearing bone. I hope that's true because it's given me peace of mind if they haven't caught a fracture in the x-ray. Avee had about 7 x-rays before a specialist caught her spiral fracture nearly 3 weeks after she fractured her leg.

If hurting your leg was a crime, Bo would be on world's dumbest criminals. Twice, TWICE I had to make him get off the treadmill, after getting the speed up to 9, trying to get to 10. See what I mean? There ain't no nice spin on that business. My brother actually video-taped one of them and wouldn't let me see it because it was "abuse". It was ridiculous. Pain is nothing in the face of a challenge. Nutty little boy.

He has also managed to give himself another fantastic chap-stache, several weeks ago. I have been harrassing him almost nonstop for the last 3 weeks. We've gone through a couple of tubes of chapstick and three different revolutionary medicinal lip balm. He just can't stop. So, anyone who's been around the two of us for more than 8 minutes, is well aware of this battle with his chap-stache.

Fast forward to last night as we were driving home from the bowling alley. I noticed that Bo had just not really tried to be careful on his leg, and that his limping had become dramatically worse throughout the day. So I mentioned to J that we should try to immobilize his leg somehow so that he'd be forced to take it easy. Bo was asking what immobilize meant and if we could get started on it right away.

Then Avee stepped in. She is going through a tattle phase. It's hilarious to me, at the same time that it's annoying. She tattles about EVERYTHING. And they are detailed and accurate and long-winded. I respond to all of them with, "Did you tell him how you felt about that?" or "Are you tattling right now?" She responds with, "I don't want to tell him how I feel, I want to tell you about it." or "I'm not tattling, I'm just telling you what happened."

As we are talking about Bo's leg immobilization, Avee says, "Moooom, last night I saw Bo going up the stairs, RUNNING, on his sore leg AND doing that thing with his lips that makes them chapped!"

J and I burst out laughing. She nailed that boy in one swift tattle. It's probably my favorite thing she's said in a week.

Friday, December 3, 2010

This Probably Won't Make You Laugh MAG. :)

There have been times in my life when I felt like I couldn't go on for a second more. Like my heart couldn't bear anymore, the future seemed like dark oblivion I didn't want to be a part of, the sadness was overwhelming.

And then,

my heart kept beating. My breath kept coming. I would wake up in the morning, a survivor of whatever I had faced the day before. Probably to face more, but I had survived once already.

I'm not going through anything like that right now, but I've been thinking a lot about these times in my life. When it seems life went on, with or without my consent.

I look back on some of those moments and sometimes feel a little sheepish. Like the time when I was 16 and the boy I thought I loved, didn't love me back. Or when I was 24 and unmarried, living in a state where the average age of marriage was about 12.9 years old. It felt so big and so real at the time, but with time and perspective, I see how silly it all really was.

And then the times when I felt like I couldn't face another moment with the sorrow or the complete unknown, and the hand I had been dealt was simply more than I was equipped to bear. Those moments where the weight of it all made me crumple to my knees, and the anguish could only find voice in pleadings for relief.

Looking back in my life, I see the lights of those moments shining back at me. Today it struck me that I see, in my mind's eye, these moments as lights and not dark blots of history I'd like wiped from my past.

Because those periods of my life---changed me. From the inside out. Like a mental metamorphosis, I came out different. Better. I have days where I wonder what the heck I'm doing and why anybody takes me seriously at all. Days when I wish I never gotten married because marriage isn't a passive thing and takes work. Or days when I shouldn't be allowed to be a mom. Days when I wonder why anyone even bothers with me at all.

Those days end though. Just like the days where I feel like I can do anything and I'm the most awesome person anyone has ever had the pleasure of encountering. They all end.

And the husband I feel too lazy to be married to comes home and says, "Talk to me, I want to connect with you" and a friend calls and says, "I've got 10 gallons of milk, do you want any?"
and I realize at some point in the evening that my kids are going to turn out okay and make mistakes whether I lecture them all day or not. And I'd rather not lecture all day.

Life goes on.

Today, I'm in charge of the direction it's going. I'm open, I'm available, I'm kind, I'm hard-working, I love, I matter, I need, I falter, I roll my eyes, I laugh out loud, I am shallow, I am profound, I am trying.