price cutter, pretzels, and best friends

Almost every day, Bubby asks, "What are we going to do today?" This has become a constant thing this summer, and unfortunately we don't always have something fun and exciting to do. In fact most days our plans are play with Legos or trains, read books,do some sort of art, and play outside if it isn't raining (and isn't during the hours when my Cullen-esque son won't burn).  Bubby loves to go places, and I think he thrived on the busy-ness of last week with VBS and other appointments. He is not as much of a homebody as his parents.

This morning I needed two things I couldn't get at Aldi, so I took the boys to the pricier grocery store - the one with the better driving carts. It made their day. Five minutes at PriceCutter to get enchilada sauce and pork chops (not to be used together), and I became Mommy of the Year. I think the sips of my iced caramel machiatto also helped seal the deal.

The Hubs only had one client in Branson this afternoon (his others cancelled), so he was essentially paying to work today with gas prices. I suggested he drop the boys and I off at the Landing (where I haven't been since before Bugaboo was born). Then it wasn't a total waste of gas. We got out of the house, and he had company for the ride to and from. While The Hubs worked, I pushed a double stroller rather awkwardly in and out of stores with doors that are not double stroller friendly.  The boys enjoyed watching the fountain that shot water and fire, and I enjoyed sitting on a bench sharing a pretzel with them. I also enjoyed being outside but not in nature on this beautiful day.

The highlight of the day though? That was this morning, in between some meltdowns Bugaboo had while I was folding clothes. Bubby was trying to get him to play, and finally little brother agreed. I overheard my four year old say to my two year old, "Bugaboo, you are my BEST friend."

the gift of a dad

They squeal and scream with delight when he "gobbles" them or when he runs around the house with them on his shoulders. They are just as happy with a wrestling match or story time. They know they can depend on him to be there for them, to provide for them, to teach them, to love them.

They have no reason to doubt this.

 In a world filled with dads who leave or dads who abuse or dads who cherish their resume' more than their family, I know that my boys are blessed with one of the best gifts there is. A real dad.

of ice cream and boundaries (a recap with a lot of parentheses)

Summer is in full swing at our house. What I really mean is we have already done our traveling (to the exotic location of northwest Illinois), and we are now 40% through VBS week. After that our summer will consist of me trying to find free things to do with the boys. I will also be found whining about the heat and humidity of southwest Missouri (really just the humidity because that is what causes my misery). But before I succumb to the whininess that grabs hold in July and the itch to buy school supplies as soon as the displays appear at Walmart, I shall reflect upon our week back home.

I didn't really want to go. I did, but I didn't. Packing for a toddler and a preschooler is only one small step above packing for a baby and a toddler. Also, the idea of going home during summer break reminded me that I haven't been on a real vacation (that means traveling somewhere fun and not seeing family) in seven years (or five if you count our long weekend in Eureka Springs, which I sometimes don't). But I sucked it up, packed our suitcases, and asked The Hubs to load the mini.

I'm glad I did because it turned out to be the best trip home I think I have had. (And I've been driving from Missouri to Illinois since 1999.) Bugaboo tolerated the car ride better than he ever has - which meant we didn't have to endure seven hours each way of non-stop crying. (There was crying, but not as much.)

We spent a week doing a whole lot of nothing which was exactly what we needed. We ate food at some fabulous local places. I may or may not have gone to get the best ice cream ever three times in seven days. (I learned that double dip waffle cones are more expensive than a shake, but I needed more than one flavor at a time.)

The boys not only got to hang with Uncle Chow, Auntie Missa and Babu (grandma), but they also spent some quality time with their great-grandma and great-great-grandma.  Bugaboo decided that Chow was to be his BFF, and he even stood at the door and cried on times when Chow was at work.  Fur-cousin Sasha decided Bugaboo was to be his BFF because a) he was the shortest and b)the drool he always wears is apparently delicious to dogs. (Bubby wanted Sasha to be his BFF, but him chasing her around with noisy toys did not help that relationship.)

There were three things that stood out to me about this trip. For the first time in a long time, I did not cry at home. There are reasons for this, but I can sum it up in one word. Boundaries. 

Another wonderful thing was a date night because we had three free baby-sitters around.  We lack free baby-sitters in Missouri, so eating in a restaurant without having to order someone something off of kids meal is quite the luxury.

On the last day we were at home we finally let Bubby ride his bike around the cul-de-sac. This is where my brother and I spent so many days riding around with all of our neighborhood friends. It was a great place to grow up, and I felt quite nostalgic watching him learn to pedal there. Maybe next summer I can teach him to play kickball down at the Nelson's end of the street. Do kids even play outside any more?

every party has a pooper

At 6:40 this morning a little voice called down the hallway, "Hey, Mom. I have to poop. ... Is it my birthday? ... Where's my cake?"

If you haven't experienced an entire day with a four year old on his birthday (or the month leading up to it), then you haven't really lived.  The joy and excitement about it being his day was contagious.  When someone would wish him a happy birthday, he would respond, "Happy birthday!" He tried to get a sneak peak of his present when I was cleaning up Cheerios, and my thwarting of that plan upset little brother more than the birthday boy.

We had coffee and muffins at the place I frequented in college, and then as newlyweds, and then with our baby carrier.  These days our orders are usually "to go." Today, however, we stayed, and Bubby sat like a the big boy that he is and ate the entire death-by-chocolate-muffin by himself. At his ENT appointment today, they let him look in the expensive microscope because my inquisitive child asked so many questions. I silently prayed, "Please God, don't let him break it because that is not in our health plan," and had simultaneous thoughts of him growing to be a doctor someday.

There were presents, phone calls, and FaceTime appointments. After dinner, we stopped in for a fancy-schmancy cupcake because this child hadn't consumed enough chocolate for the day.  Once again there was not a Pinterest-worthy party, but I'm finding that as much as I love that website, most of my life is not Pinterest-worthy. And that is perfectly fine with me.

At 9:00 the boys are finally in bed, late, and the day ended similarly to how it began, "Mommy, I have to go poop again." 

Happy birthday, little boy!

tonight at bedtime

We read of Babel and a little bit about Abraham tonight from the Beginners Bible, the four of us cozy on the couch. Twenty little toes stuck out from pajamas featuring green and yellow monsters. Bubby picks the order in which we pray at night, and he chose to go last. He also requested I pray that Jesus help him to eat his vegetables.

When it was his turn to pray, he said, "Dear Jesus, Please help Bugaboo's therapy. Help him to not drool. Help him to walk and get new braces. Amen." 

An hour later little brother's voice sang out the hundredth verse of Wheels on the Bus. The tune is very clear even if the words are barely recognizable.  Then finally there was the sweet sound of two brothers sleeping. Another night of falling to sleep without endless crying.  So I whisper, "Thank You. Amen."

five minute friday - "view"

Lisa-Jo's community writes without editing on a given topic for five minutes each Friday.  Join us. This week's topic is "view."

Go.

They say the grass is always greener on the other side, and I've spent more days looking across that figurative fence than being grateful for my own backyard. I wanted to be married, to get a better job, to have a baby, to have more babies, to have a better house. Some of these things have happened, and some have not, and though the desire for these things are not bad, it is when they cloud my view of what I already have been given it becomes a problem. Like groundhogs destroying the grass and the garden, my lack of contentment has at time wreaked havoc on every area of my life.

But the view around here these days is changing for me. The sun shines in our backyard with the hand-me-down slide and the red wagon. I blow bubbles for what seems like hours, and I yell out the words, "Run to the fence! Run to the bike!" as I play with my boys. Spring is here, and I wonder why I hid in the gray cold days for so long.

Stop.

training wheels

You turn four in a couple of weeks. Several people have commented that you are taller than you were just a few days ago. Your daddy noticed the step stool is no longer needed for hand-washing and teeth brushing. I can hardly breathe when I think about it too long.

A birthday card and check came early. Those skinny legs are too long for the tricycle that was never quite mastered due to lack of a sidewalk by our house. So we went ahead and purchased a big boy bike. I silently promised to take trips to the park more frequently this summer now that both you and Bugaboo are mobile, and there is a summer break for our family from nursing classes.

At the store today, you of course picked the bike with the name "rattlesnake" in the title. All I can think about each day is how I don't want to open the wagon lid ever again and find your beloved backyard snake, and you picked a bike that reminds me of such a nasty creature.Thankfully the sweetness of your Buzz Lightyear helmet balances out the big boy aspects of the snake-bike.

You were so excited to open the box and help Daddy put your bike together.  I tried to take lots of pictures, but you shooed me away because you had work to do. I hope someday you realize what a gift it is that you had a daddy who patiently let you "help," never getting frustrated or angry at the bike, the directions or you. That is a rare thing, and I hope you inherit that kindness from him.

I sat on the couch while your little brother fell asleep much too late in the day.  I eavesdropped on the kitchen conversation.
"This is gonna be the best bike in the whole world." 
"Why is that?" 
"Because it is."

I remember four years ago we put your crib together - so how is it possible we are assembling your first bike? (And of course by "we" I actually mean your daddy.)  I stressed out back then that nothing matched, and that your nursery would be one of the few that was undecorated. I still stress out about such things, and I know I need to let. it. go. A bedroom theme won't make you a better boy. Or a better man.  I stressed out today that you weren't strong enough or coordinated enough to pedal. I worried that somehow I have failed you.

I shouldn't.

We grabbed pizza after the park, and you drove us almost crazy with your non-stop (and I mean NON-STOP) chatter in the backseat. You inherited that from me, sweet boy.  Your brother joined you in the constant "Daddy. Daddy? Daddy! Daddy," and how could we not laugh along with you both? A perfect day.

I don't know when you will get the hang of pedaling and steering. It really doesn't matter thought, does it? You are doing something new every day,  and you will figure it out soon enough. Too soon most likely.