Pocket-Treasures and Popcicles

The dreaded day has finally come: Our kids have figured out that the big ol' white van that obnoxiously putters through our neighborhood is not JUST the "Music Truck".































Keith asked, "Who wants to wear the princess pajamas to bed?", expecting S to answer. But notice how geeked Z is about his pretty, pink outfit.




















Two years ago, our kids could hardly breathe on their own. This week, they were swimming "by themselves".

My "babies" are big kids now.

















More evidence to their maturity? Big kids store stuff in their pockets. Now those big kids are mine. This is the first pocket-treasure I have found so far. A one-inch and somewhat adorable iguana.

Genetics

I went to the store the other day. I wrote a check to pay, and the cashier asked for my license. I didn't have it with me. My change pouch that holds my ID (and spare change) was at home. So, I ran out of the store, and sped home to get my required ID. Upon returning to the store, I opened my change purse, and then realized....my license was missing! Someone must of stolen it.

Or wait....I remember!

I had gone to the gardens with a friend that day, and had thrown my ID and membership card into the stroller, which was in the back of our van the entire time. So I went all the way home for nothing.

Airhead moments.

And K still turns the wrong way to get to church every Sunday (and Wednesday). We both get lost all of the time, even if we have been there 20 times before. Sometimes we are halfway to someone's house when we realize the dish we were supposed bring is still in the fridge.

He never remembers to take a lunch to work.

I forgot Father's day.

I once preheated an oven that I had stored a giant, cake-sized tupperware in. It took months to get rid of the burnt plastic smell whenever we baked anything. I know....healthy.

I never know people's names (usually because I am not listening when they tell me). It is surprising if I remember who I made plans with (or when or where), and I rarely make it to where I am supposed to be on time. Sorry, everyone.

Let's face it. K and I are somewhat "blonde". (Ok, maybe alot).
Yet, we both loved the academic part of school (after highschool anyway), and we both did really well.
K's blonde moments are not horrible. Mine are not any worse. But the two of us together, in one household, can sometimes prove to be amazingly annoying. We were laughing (and horrified) to think of what our poor kid's have in store for them. Most likely, our kids are genetically inclined to be intellectual airheads.

If they are anything like thier parents in years to come, our kids will readily learn from and enjoy their college classes.....after they find the class schedule (and after they remember to go back to their dorm to get the books they forgot), and if they remember what building their particular class is in.

fights

Things my kids fought about today:

Z: (While I was changing B's diaper) "B has yellow poop."
B: "No yellow poop! White poop! B have white poop."
Z: "Red poop!"
B: "No. White poop!"


Also,
September farted.
Z: "S farted."
S: "No, Z farted."
B: "No, B farted."
S: "No, S farted!"
Z: "No, Mama farted!"

And...I said, "Hey guys, while your macaroni is cooking, why don't we pick up a little bit?"
S got a big smile on her face, ran to me, lifted her hands, and said, "OK, Mama...pick S up!"

The Summer Excursion

One of the reasons for trekking across the country was so the kids could see their grandpa for the first time. They not only got to see their grandpa (and grandma Judy), but they got to "ride" his motorcycle (or at least sit on it and pretend). I think the boys would have deemed the 16 hour drive well worth it, just for two minutes on gramp's bike.

When the kids weren't on the motorcycle, they were on this deck. The sign on the deck said, "Do Not Feed the Fish". Our kids did not feed the fish. They did, however, whip stale bread chunks AT the fish all day.

The best (by far) part of my vacation is that K was around 24-7 to help with the kids. He said once that he doesn't really know how to play with toddlers..."What do they like to do? What is entertaining to them?"...but he seems to be an expert in these pics, doesn't he?

Degree in Parenting

We went camping this weekend. I remember when camping was relaxing: We would set up the tent early, sit around the campfire and chat, play cards by lantern light, talk some more, eat smores, and go to bed exceptionally late (knowing we could sleep in until noon the next morning). Now, we no sooner than get out of the car, and we are reminding the kids not to throw stones at the van (and yes, that mean Jason's truck too, B) or at each other or at us. Then, we had to steer the kids away from our axe-wielding (wood-chopping) friend. (He was the boy's hero of the moment, and they wanted to be extra-special close.) We had to make sure the kids didn't land themselves in the fire. We reminded them (again and again) to stay out of the campground road.

Mostly, the kids listened to our reminders, and it was a generally happy time.

Until...

we put the kids to bed.

Approximately two (or three) hours later (after many talkings-to and some spanking), our kids finally fell asleep.

I ended up laying in the tent with the kids the next night (alternating between spanking and yelling), while everyone else talked and laughed and had a good ol' time around the campfire. And it made me wonder...why don't we get trained in parenting? Where is the Parenting 101? And is Parenting Multiples 101 different than regular Parenting 101? What would have happened if I just said "Screw it, we're on vacation. Let them play and have fun!" What if you don't want to spank that much? What other consequences do you give kids who are supposed to stay in bed? (You can't really give them time-outs! If you did, where do you put them? Outside, where they'd love to be?)
My friend was reminding me that my kids are actually pretty well-behaved. They were fine (mostly) during the day. They were happy in the sand. They played well at the park. They ate well enough. They are generally happy. They listen (sometimes). But what about the times when they don't listen? What about when they don't come when I call them? Or when they don't lay down when I want them to stay in bed? Or when they don't stop throwing food (or rocks or water) at each other? When do I let them fight it out? When do I let them learn from natural consequences? What about when they get a bed? Do I make them stay in it? How? By staying in there with them? What if I don't want to? And how long? Until I go to bed? Until they are Four? Six? Twelve? When do they listen because I asked and not because they are being watched or punished? How do I teach them that right now?

Other than this small my-kids-don't-always-listen issue, we really did have a good time. Really. But now it is 11 pm, and I have B still crying (actually, screaming to the point of making himself puke) in his bedroom, because he is so over-tired he can't get to sleep, and so I am naturally thinking of the negative.

I would go camping again in a heartbeat. Thanks for inviting, guys. It really was fun.

(Ok, now two kids are crying. Really Hard.)