Preston's story

Sorry I haven't done this in a while.  I've been really busy now that I'm working (for those of you who did not know this, yes, I have started working.  No, hell has not frozen over.)  Anyway, I just found a story Preston wrote for his class about a Christmas tree that I was impressed with, so for the family members who are interested, I'll post.  Everyone else may be totally bored with this, but it's my kid, I get to brag.

     I was a small pine tree at the edge of the forest.  No animals ever paid attention to me.  One day a warthog was in a bad mood.  It's tusks were covered with mud, bugs and flowers.  It came to me to rub it off.  Then, one day a young boy and his dad came and put ornaments on me.  They did this every year for every holiday.  But most of all, they cared for me all year long.  Christmas is the best holiday ever.  Even was I reached over their heads, I was still the perfect little Christmas tree they loved.  Finally, I was about to die, and I was used to make a house so I can always be with the ones I love.  I love it when the kids invite friends over, and they still decorate me for Christmas every year.

A Moment

Hudson and I had a "moment" this weekend that I wanted to share.  It was one of those moments that I really had to question myself as to what is "right" and what would be the "wrong" response, and to be honest, I'm still not sure if I did the right thing.  Hopefully it's the right thing for us.

This weekend was a busy one for us, as the last weekend of summer usually is for us.  We have to get ready for winter (unfortunately....still waiting to move somewhere where winter doesn't exist).  This means getting the garage, camper, boat and other summer stuff winterized and put away.  This also means we spend the whole weekend in the garage.  The boys usually help, but I gave the two older ones a "pass" to spend some time with a friend who I felt could use some company, so it was just me, Kev, and Hudson.  We were going in and out of the house and Kevin had to run and grab a tool at his Dad's.  I stayed in the garage, and Hudson was in the house.  At some point, Hudson forgot I was in the garage.  Apparently he then began to run around the house, screaming (I mean screaming.  I'm sure he had a banshee beat.)  Loud enough I could hear him in the garage.

I, of course, thought he had harmed himself, so I went running into the house to figure out what in the world had happened.  I found him standing in the kitchen, sobbing, and looking completely distraught.  He just kept saying, "I couldn't find you."  After reassuring him that I was just in the garage, where he'd left me, and that I would never, ever leave him, he started to calm down.  I asked him, "Are you okay?"  Where he responded,

"Yeah, but don't tell Dad I got scared, okay?"

Oh man.  What do I do with this?  This is the moment where I have to decide if I am the mom that can be trusted.  If I can be the one that you can tell anything to and know that it's in pure confidence.

I decided.....I'm not that mom.  I decided that it was more important for him to trust that Daddy and I are a united front, that we as a unit will always be there for him, no matter what the circumstance.  And that we love him equally......differently.....but equally.  This could be the kind of moment that could make or break us.

When Kevin got home a few minutes later, Hudson was still recuperating.  I asked him if he would like to tell Daddy something.  Kevin looks at him and says, "What's wrong, bud?"  He says, "Nothing."  So I betrayed him.  I told Kevin what had happened.  Of course, Kevin picks him up and gives him a huge hug and tells him that he never has to worry.  We will never leave him, and that it's okay to be scared sometimes. 

So they wrapped their arms around each other and held each other.  I hope Hudson remembers that moment.

Stinky Washer

This is going to be completely outside of my "box" as far as blogs go.  It's not about my kids for once!  I am a housewife, along with being a mother, and I can say I have learned a few things.  A few.  Not many, because I don't want to learn, but a few!  :)

For those of you that have the front-load washers, this is for you.  Some people have asked how to keep it from smelling terrible, and I might have the solution for you.  You are welcome to test it out yourself.

First and foremost, do NOT use liquid fabric softener in these things.  That's the worst thing you can do, in my opinion.  Vinegar in the fabric softener slot works if you are looking for a more "natural" way to soften clothes, or just use dryer sheets.  But throw the liquid stuff away.  Now.

If you have been using liquid softener, or if it just stinks right now, run a HOT cycle of bleach and vinegar through your washer (no clothes) and then use antibacterial wipes along the rim and inside to get rid of some of the gunk that has accumulated.

If you only do laundry one day a week, like I do (Yes, I do it ALL in one day.  It takes all day, but whatever, it works) then make sure your last load is the whites with bleach and hot water.

And lastly, keep your washer door open to dry out a little after your load is done.  That can help too. 

Hope this helps!  Have a great day!

You Might Be Right

I posted that one of the sexiest things a man could say to me is, "Hmmmm.....You might be right."  I'll be honest.  I'm more interested in how the men take this post than the women.  I'll tell you why.

Some men will take this as "Oh sure, a man has to be subservient."  Some will say, "No backbone is sexy?  Whatever."  Others will be like, "Oh please.  That's never coming out of my mouth!"  But I will tell you what most women think when they hear this.  I'm just trying to help you guys!  hee hee

When I hear a man say this, I hear, "Hmmmm......Very interesting.  I will give your opinion some thought, because I know that you don't give your opinion unless you truly believe in what you are saying.  And I recognize what a smart woman you are.  But I am an individual with my own thoughts and beliefs.  I am a strong person who can't be swayed easily by what others say.  But because I love you and respect you as an equal, I will give what you have to say consideration in what my beliefs and opinions are, also.  Because you MIGHT be right."

Yes, that really IS what we hear when you say those four words.  Lol

Honest Mom

To be honest with you, I don't really care for babies.  Don't get me wrong.  I like other people's babies.  My own?  Well, they were hard.  I realize now that with each of my children, Mason most notably, I suffered from postpartum.  I felt like every day I was hanging precariously onto whatever marbles I had left.  I lost a few along the way, I know. The reason I prefer 18 month old children and up?  Because babies cry.....and cry.....and cry....and cry.

So I nursed.  Keep in mind.  I couldn't eat, sleep, bathe, brush my teeth, do my hair, shop, cook or clean without this tiny human screaming at me.  Every. Single. Minute.  I had barely enough energy to get out of bed that first few weeks, let alone clean, sterilize, or make bottles.  But I could nurse, luckily.  It kept them quiet.  I could finally get five minutes of peace while they ate.  Needless to say, I had very, very fat babies.  Because I like peace.

I truly started to love, adore, and cherish my sons once they started talking to me.  When they would cry, I could ask, "Why are you crying?"  and they could TELL me.  I rejoiced in every conversation.  Still do, much to my preteens' dismay.  I love to hear them talk, have conversations, and come up with their own ideas.  LOVE it.

So, in all honesty, our life together had a rough start.  And maybe there are other parents out there who are thinking "Glad it's not just me".  But rough start or not, like some pretty good books I've read, it may not have started out the greatest, but it's the middle and the ending that can make the best stories.

What We're Given

Hudson is sick today.  I don't fret about sickness too much.  I know it won't last long, and he will be on the mend in no time.  I do my best not to complain, because I know that in general, I have three healthy kids.  I should not be allowed to complain, because I know there are many parents out there that struggle every single day with issues that I can't even begin to imagine when it comes to their babies' health.

I have put a few things up on facebook about a family friend whose ten year old son has lived with a condition called EB.  If you don't know anything about it, please look it up.  I can't even imagine what this child and family have had to endure, but he is tough, and so is his family.  They are currently undergoing an experimental procedure to help him, and while I'm not usually a "praying" person, I think of him every day and night and continue to hope for great and amazing things for him.

But here's what I believe.  My friends who have children, those with EB, blind, autistic or paralyzed, have been chosen specifically to raise these babies.  No one else could do a better job.  No one else is strong enough.  No one else is committed enough.  These families are amazing to me.  I am awed by them every single day.  Kevin and I aren't that strong, nowhere near that tough. 

So, while I have been blessed to be given healthy children, the children who do struggle have been blessed to be given the family that will see their miracles through.  Whatever they may be. 

Preston

I don't talk about Preston much.  I know this.  To be fair, there is not much to say.  Not in a bad way, it's just he's a really good kid.  Yes, the kind of child every mother dreams of.  No brag, just fact.  Yet, this brings on a whole new set of worries, because, really, isn't this every mother's job.  To worry?

Preston is the middle child.  Kevin and I were both middle children.  He's the one that gets ignored most of the time, gets lost in the shuffle, and generally has to fend for himself.  Kevin and I did it as kids, and we honestly try to make a more concerted effort to avoid doing this to poor Preston, but it's inevitable I think.  I never really worried about him though.  He doesn't complain, he plays by himself, does what he's told, and never causes a fuss.  But after yesterday, lucky me, I now have found reasons to worry.

I went to parent/teacher conferences yesterday, and the teacher gave a glowing report about how well he is doing with math and reading, and never causes any trouble in her classroom.  Which, for her, causes a little concern.  What?  What do you mean?  Isn't that ideal?  Yeah, I know.  I was floored too.

She told me that sometimes Preston is too kind.  Huh?  How is that possible?  Example:  Apparently when Preston is in line, some of the kids will push in ahead of him.  Typical behavior.  His response, I guess, is not.  She said he just steps back and lets them get in front of him, without saying a word.  She's worried he's going to get pushed around a lot as he gets older, without defending himself.  Oh boy.

Then she tells me that she noticed he's constantly giving things away.  Or wanting to buy her and other people things.  He REALLY wants to buy her a ring or a necklace.  lol  And he wants to give all his supplies to other kids that don't have something, but then ends up not having enough supplies for himself.  Great.  

And lastly, she tells me that he is REALLY sensitive to other people's emotions.  She says that if the kids are being naughty in the class or she seems stressed, he keeps trying to make it better.  He asks if he can give her a backrub (can we say "overly affectionate") or if he can help somehow.  And she says this is a constant thing for him.  Ugh.
 
So she wants me to make sure he doesn't seem to be overburdened.  Someday he will have a major catastrophe come his way, there's no getting around it, and she worries he won't be able to handle it.  "A lot for a little guy to carry around."  So, yeah, now I worry about that too. 
 
We, as parents, work really hard at making sure our children are good, kind, sensitive, loving, blah, blah, blah.  Apparently, Preston has taken that to the 10th degree.  So, even when you seem to have the "perfect" child, you still have to worry.  So let's just be grateful we are given lots of different kind of children, so we have a job to do.  Worry.

Realistic Mom

I picked Mason up from school yesterday, and he had a t-shirt in his hand.  I asked, "What's that?"  He says, "It's a DARE t-shirt they gave us.  We're supposed to wear it every Thursday."  I said, "Oh really?  Hmmm.  So do they teach you realistic ways to stay away from drugs and alcohol?"  He says, "Yeah, like saying 'No' and walking away."

Okay, really?  That's realistic?  I mean, come on.  We've all been there.  It's not that easy.  As we all know.  Mason tells me that he made a pact with a friend of his that they would never do drugs, because his friend has had issues with his dad doing them.  Yikes.  Scary.  But real life. 

So I decided to put my own spin on ACTUAL situations he'll be put in, and give him REAL responses he can use.  Like when a friend is drinking and offers him a drink, I told him to just tell his friend, "No thanks.  I'll just drive your drunk butts around."  I told him that at least that way you don't make the friend feel uncomfortable, and you can still avoid drinking, and you'll keep all of your friends safe.  Also, how about when he's in football, and he's sore from practice, and a friend offers him a prescription pain killer?  He had no response.  I told him, "Just tell the guy, 'No thanks, I've got something at home I can take'."  And then to make sure to come home and let me know what is going on in his life.  No matter what.

I also told him that no matter what, he can tell us if he has made a mistake.  Because mistakes are how you learn.  And that as long as he is honest with us, he is safe with us.  Except for drunk driving.  And we've had LOTS of conversations about that.  We tell them all the time that no matter what the situation, if they have been drinking, call us and we'll come get them.  They won't get in trouble unless they get behind the wheel.  If we have to drive five hours to get them, we will.  Mason even said yesterday, "Okay.  So what if I'm driving my drunk friends around and they cover my eyes or grab the wheel and I get in an accident, I won't get in trouble?"  I said, "Nope, as long as you are sober."  Then he asks, "What's 'sober' mean?"  Oh, I have a long way to go.  lol

I hold no delusions that my guy won't EVER try something or dabble in things that could put him in danger.  And this conversation lasted over 20 minutes in the car, giving him situations and possible ways to keep himself safe throughout the drive.  Preston was also in the back seat, listening, and providing some input.  I hope that they listen, and can come up with their own solutions.  Realistic ones.

Side Effects

Most of the time, I am sooo grateful I have boys.  But there are times when I'm not sure I have enough knowledge to really see them through everything they will deal with.

Mason asked me the other day what the "side effects" of puberty are.  Side effects?  What side effects?  I drew a blank.  So I start going into the whole "your penis gets bigger, you get hair, your testicles get bigger" conversation.  He looks at me like I've gone insane.  "Not that!  Ewwww.  I mean side effects."  Okay, I'm at a loss.  Do I really know the answer to this one? 

Then he says, "Well, a friend told me that one side effect is that you get nose bleeds." Hahahahah.  Oh, okay.  I get it.  His poor friend must have gotten a nose bleed, was horribly embarrassed and decided to tell his friends that he's going through puberty, and that's one of the side effects.  Oh my.  Poor kid.

But I realized that this could be a defining moment.  Where your child comes to you for information, instead of his friends, and he is actually needing an answer.  Yikes.  I proceeded to tell him that I was very glad he came to me instead of just believing whatever his friends tell him, and that if I didn't have the answer, I would be honest and say, "I don't know.  But I will find the answer for you."  Because, most of the time, I don't know.  I have no idea. 

And I told him, "I don't know.  But I don't believe there are any side effects.  But if I find out differently, I will let you know."  I told Kevin about this whole conversation.  His answer?  "Side effect?  How about having raging hormones?"  Yeah.  If our poor child is anything like his parents, that will be a definite side effect.  But that's a completely different conversation.  lol

Oh my

Conversation with Hudson today.  "Mom, my poop is green."  "Really?  Well, maybe it's all those fruit gushers you ate."  "MOM!!!  I didn't put fruit gushers up my butt!"  And people wonder why I turn to facebook for adult conversation.

My Little Devil

I know some of you have heard this story, some haven't, but I had to repeat it this weekend to some "newbies" and I decided I should take some of your guys' advice and start "archiving" Hudson's stories. Blackmail is not beneath me! :P Hee hee. And most parents might read this and think, "Hey, mine's not so bad!" lol

Anyway, last winter, we decided to start potty training Hudson. In general, for boys, going naked is the best bet. And as most of you know, with Hudson, we can't keep clothes on him anyway, so it's easier also. We had a basic routine every morning. We'd take a bath, and then I'd be getting ready while he was upstairs with me. Anyone knows with a two year old, when they want to do something, they REALLY want to do something. So I would blow dry my hair, while he would be saying, "I want to do it" and then quickly screaming, "I want to do it!" You know the drill.

So this particular morning, I let him blow dry his hair while I was finishing up my makeup. All of a sudden, I hear this buzzing sound, like electricity misfiring, and I look down, and I see the hair dryer on the floor, with Hudson squatting down beside it, his penis in the end of it, peeing in it, while it was ON!

Fast forward two weeks. Same routine, I'm blow drying my hair.....yes...new hair dryer. You were wondering weren't you? ;) And of course, he wants to do it. After I'm done, I calmly say, "No, Hudson, you are not drying your hair. You peed in it last time." He starts bawling, crying, throwing himself on the floor, totally freaking out. So I say, "Hudson, I'm going downstairs. When you decide to pull it together, you are welcome to come downstairs with me." So I go down, (he's still freaking out, mind you) and sit at the computer desk which is under my staircase. After about five minutes of total brain melt on his part, it abruptly stops and I think, "hmmmmm, maybe he's got it together and he'll come down." Still nothing. Then it goes to, "hmmmmm, wonder what he's doing". Never good when it's quiet. But I wait. Then I start getting wet. Yes, wet.

I look up, and there he is at the top of the stairs, his penis through the banister, PEEING ON ME! 

Boys, boys, boys

I was running around trying to get Mason and Preston to their respective baseball practices, in two different places mind you, and Mason decides to have "the talk". Well....kind of. Mason starts telling me that he doesn't want to be a catcher for baseball anymore. I said, "Why?" He says, "Well, last year, I got hit in the balls, and that HURTS!" I say, in true mom fashion, "Ew, Mason, let's not use the word 'balls'. When you talk to your mom, could you use 'testicles' instead. You can use the word 'balls' with your friends, not your mom!"

So then he asks, "Why do boys have testicles?" This is when I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble. So I figure I will do the logical thing and try not to make him uncomfortable. lol So, of course, I TRY to to be honest. I tell him, "Well, that's where men keep sperm." Hoping it ends there. Yeah, not so much.

So he says, "Why do guys need sperm?" Oh, boy.  "Well, you know that women have eggs, and guys have sperm, and when they join, they make a baby". Doing well, don't you think? hahahaha THEN he says, "Well, how do the sperm and egg get together?" And you're wondering, oh no, did she go there? Yep, I did. The whole penis in the vagina thing. You should have seen his face. "Ewwww, gross Mom!"

But the thing I didn't count on.....Preston in the back seat. My little seven year old. He says, "Mom, when I propose to a girl, I'm going to do it in a really nice restaurant." I am thinking, thank God, a change of subject. "Oh, that will be nice Preston. A nice restaurant would be really special." And he says.....wait for it......

"And when she says 'Yes', I'm going to tell her to lay on my testicles."

Three year olds

I always love my sons.  Always.  But there are times when I can't say I always "like" them.  My beautiful Mason, the loving, considerate, wonderful child of mine that I adore, was always quick to say "Please" and "Thank You".  No prompting, for the most part.  He just always wanted to please.  And then he turned three. 

Right after his third birthday, we had errands to run.  Pay bills, go to the bank, etc.  We went to the bank, and it's a small town, so they knew us well.  They greeted us as usual, and as we were leaving, they asked if Mason could have a sucker.  I said "Sure", and when they handed it to him, I told him to say "Thank You".  He refused.  Flat out refused.  So I told him to give it back.  He didn't want to.  So, I took it away from him and gave it back to them myself.  Wow.  He cried, no, screamed, and screamed, and screamed.  I just held him in my arms and walked out.  I get to the car (he's still screaming, mind you) and try to get him into his car seat.  Oh, the dreaded rigid bodied three year old tantrum.  Trying to get him into his seat was a true feat of wrestling, I tell ya.

So, still screaming, we head to Dollar General.  I get him out of the car seat (still screaming) and head into the store.  Again, small town, they ask me what's wrong with Mason.  I tell them the story of the episode at the bank.  She says that she has a Tootsie Roll in her pocket, if he can have that.  I said "Sure" again, as long as he said "Thank You".  Lo and behold, he refused.  Still.  So, again, I gave it back.  While he screamed.  He cried until we got back home, where he was exhausted from his ordeal of his "mean mom".  But guess what?  He says "Please" and "Thank You" every time.  Every. Time.

Spelling snob

I am a horrible, terrible, awful spelling snob.  As I say this, I am thinking, "Watch.  I'll end up spelling something wrong in this post."  It makes my teeth grind anytime I see something in print spelled incorrectly.  I can't stand it.  My husband is a grammar snob, yet, a horrible speller.  I told him that it is really the same thing.  It makes the person seem uneducated, the only difference being one is in print....for EVERYONE to see. 

My poor son has developed his father's spelling habits, and it drives him, and I, crazy every time I have to correct something he's written.  He doesn't think it's a big deal.  But, oh my, he's such an intelligent child.  And to see him write something that makes him look ignorant makes me cringe.   Just cringe.  I'm not usually as bad when it comes to non-family members, but I saw an advertisement the other day that just sent my head spinning.

We were walking into a restaurant and there was an advertisement for a daycare posted by the door.   It was cute and fun looking, and seemed to have a lot of thought put into it.  Then I read this.  "Licensed daycare.  SIEDA approved meals and snakes served daily."  SNAKES!!!!!!  Seriously!  Snakes.  I can only assume it was supposed to say "snacks".  At least, I hope!
 

I Was a Dude in a Former Life

I have three sons.  I know boys.  I like boys.  I would have no idea what to do with girls, because I'm not sure I really AM a girl.  I think about who I am, what I like, and I'm not sure there is much girl DNA in me.   For instance...

1.  I don't do shoes.  In high school and college, I had a pair of black and brown sandals and a pair of black and brown boots.  They go with everything, right?  What else do you need?

2.  I don't do flowers, candy, or jewelry.  Flowers die, candy makes you fat, and I just recently got my ears re-pierced after 20 years.

3.  I don't do clothes.  I wear jeans and t-shirts.  My preference is...well....we won't go into that.  So I wear jeans and t-shirts to keep from getting arrested.  :)

4.  My don't do "weird" food.  My poor college friends keep trying to broaden my horizons by taking me to different places.  But really.  What the hell is "couscous"?  Sorry ladies.  You can keep trying.  But give me a burger and fries anyday.

5.  My interests include poker, football, and sex.  Scratch that.  Reverse the order.  Much better.  :)

6.  I love to fish.  I could spend all day fishing.  There is really no better way to spend a day with my family.

7.  Well, other than camping.  THAT'S a perfect way to spend the day with my family.

I've really tried to think about some "girl" things I like.  Can't think of any.  So I have boys.  Because, in general, I'm just one of them.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the word "happy".  In general, we always say that we just want the people we love to be happy in their relationships.  However, there is a HUGE difference between being stagnant happy and being ecstatic happy.  There are just too many people I know that seem to be stuck in the stagnant happy relationship, and I wanted to bring this to their attention.  You are worth more than that.  You deserve more than that.  You have the right to be ecstatic happy for the rest of your lives.  And if you're not, please do something about it.  There are people who truly love you that hurt when you hurt.

So what is the difference you ask?  The difference is just being "okay".  When you have the mindset of thinking "It could be worse than where I'm at", or "I just don't want to be alone", or the dreaded, "I just love them" when there is absolutely no reason for this irrational thinking.  It all makes me want to cringe. 

Ecstatic happy is when there is no other person that you would prefer to spend your time with.  The person you are in a relationship with makes you laugh, makes you feel cherished, and prefers to spend their time with you over anyone else.  They put you on their number one list, and you want to do the same.  When the idea of a vacation without them seems somewhat hollow, instead of a reprieve.  And the prospect of spending every minute of every day for the REST of your life with this person sounds blissful, instead of torturous.  

Every relationship will go through ups and downs.  There is no getting around it.  But if you see no true "ups" in the future, then do yourself and the person you are with, a favor.  And move on.  Find someone who will make you ecstatically happy.  Don't waste one single second on someone who is not deserving of your time.  Because there are no "do-overs" in life.  You get one shot.   Make it count.

Our decision ( Just one of many)

Here's one of my "ruffle" feathers subjects.  Years ago, Kevin's cousin lost his wife and two young children in a horrific car accident.  That funeral haunts me to this day.  His wife and children were buried in one casket, the mother's arms wrapped around her children, holding them tight.  He just couldn't bear to have any of them separated.  I can't imagine having to make any such decision, and, God willing, will never have to.  But this does bring me to a decision we made as a couple years later.

If you know us, you know we are a pretty traditional family.  Well, very traditional.  The house and kids are mine, for the most part, and everything outside of the house is taken care of by Kevin.  This means, in short, that the boys are always with me.  All four of us are in the car together every day.  I cannot think of one time that Kevin had all three boys in the car by himself.  It's just how we work.  But I know that things happen, that aren't always fair, and there could be a day when Kevin could lose his whole family, in a blink of an eye. 

As you know, we weren't planning on having three children ( a whole other story ).  But decided after three, that we were going to make a permanent plan so we definitely stopped at three.  Whatever decision a couple makes, it is very personal.  Very.  But, all I could see when making this plan was Kevin's cousin at his family's funeral. 

So the decision was made for me to make a permanent change, versus Kevin.  Because I know him.  He would not do well if he lost us, and the chance of me losing my whole family in one fell swoop is way lower than his. I would want him to have the chance to get married again and have a family.  I am happy to say that Kevin's cousin has had that chance, and after getting remarried, now has more beautiful children. 

The Real Me

I love to write.  When I was little, I would dream of being a writer, being published, and being famous.  But life had different, yet better, plans for me.  I am eternally grateful to Facebook for getting me back in touch with people who encourage me to write.  The kind of  people who make you feel warm and fuzzy inside.  So, I have decided that I will do what I love, share my stories, and hope people will laugh, and learn, along with me.  I have not decided whether I will post all of my blogs on Facebook, or just a select few that won't "ruffle" any feathers, so to speak.  So, if you are interested, I hope you will "subscribe" to this blog.  And for those of you who aren't really interested....I don't blame you.  I'm boring.  hee hee