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