Be careful what you say...

    Yesterday, as I ran around like a crazy woman trying to get dinner ready while prepping myself and 2 kids for AWANAS, I told the bigs that it was crazy hat night. We talked about some of their hat options, and they both ran out of the room to find something. good. Great! I thought. At least we won't have to deal with that part in the after dinner rush! (although it didn't actually go that smoothly...but that's another story.)
    Meanwhile, Blaise (now 18 months) was in the kitchen; he obviously was in earshot of the conversation, but I didn't think anything of it.... until he went to the Tupperware drawer, opened it, and placed a container on his head. He turned to me and grinned...crazy hat night? Check! All over it, Mama.
      Also, the kid can "sing" Darth Vader's theme song with perfect pitch and understanding. Which is what he was doing the other night, while wearing his Superman jammies (and cape!) and Pax's sunglasses.

   I'm 95% sure this kid is smarter than me already...and 100% sure he doesn't EVER want to be left behind!

WHO is in your room??

The other night, Adam came out from Blythe's room chuckling a bit and told me I should go give her one last kiss. So I went in, sat on the edge of her bed, and she began to explain to me that she didn't like sleeping by herself(very dramatically, with lots of gesturing) because "Pax and Blaise get to sleep together and you and Daddy get to sleep together and I'm" (head shaking, more gesturing) "I'm just in here with God and wisdom!!!"
Somehow, I manage to only smile at her as she says this so earnestly; and I tell her that maybe someday soon, we could get a cat...."yeah...and then the cat could curl up on my pillow or sleep on a little bed next to my bed and...." at this point I'm kissing her, saying goodnight, and heading out the door-- and wondering who, exactly, wisdom is!
But I'm pretty sure if she has anything to do with it there will be a cat named Wisdom here very soon. Or Lucy. She likes Lucy, too...
"I'm just in here with God and wisdom!!!" 
seems like pretty good company to me :)

What??

Our biggest small son decided, in the back of the van on the way home tonight, to give his little sister a science lesson. (yes, we now have a Swagga Wagon instead of a Station Wagon...and I love it.)
"Blythe, do you see that up there? That's the moon. It's made of Glowing Green Cheese!! "
Me, cracking up: "whaaaat??"
Pax: " yes. GLOWING green cheese. But only the full moon. The half moon, it's just made of milk. And it smells kinda, uhhh, milky sometimes."
Adam: "Um. Where did you hear that, buddy?"
Pax: " Oh, I just heard it from Sid the Science kid!"

Thank you, PBS.....
(except I really do like Sid the Science kid. And PBS. Only now my 2year old thinks the moon is made of GLOWING green cheese....)

He's a boy, all right!

     We're working with our stubborn, aggressive, physical boy on understanding when it's ok to be-you know-aggressive and physical, and when it's not. As I snuggled B in her bed last night, I couldn't help but overhear a snippet of the "boy's" conversation...
Pax: "I protect my sister. Like if people are hurting her I hit 'em,"
A:"Yes, it's part of your job (as the big brother) to protect her. But hitting isn't really a good idea,"
Pax: "First I'll pray to God, and then I  hit them,"

I couldn't help it. I totally lost it, therefore making our son think what he had said was the greatest thing in the world. ahem.

...we may have some more work to do here.

Adventures of the Cupboard Dwellers: There's a WHAT in your closet??

She bobbed into my room, running that cute 2-year-old run, and stopped abruptly.
"MAMA," she said, eyes and hands wide,
"There's a yizard in my cwoset!!"
I kinda smiled, but mostly just shook my head, sure she was trying to get out of doing whatever it was I'd asked her to do.
"B, there is not a lizard in your closet," I sighed. We'd just gotten back from vacation and the kids were testing their limits for sure.
"Yes, there is! There IS a yizard in my cwoset!" she insisted, eyes somehow even wider than before. Just as I was about to say that, no, there couldn't possibly be a lizard in her closet; her big brother came in.
"There is a lizard, Mama," he told me.
Ok. Now I really did have to check it out...this one wouldn't tell me there was a lizard in his sister's closet in order to get out of getting dressed. He's much more up-front about stuff like that...no imaginary lizards there, just outright defiance. (Much simpler to tell when it's real or not, you know)

"Ok. Show me." we trundled off down the hall, Blythe bobbing in front all the way to her closet, where they knelt and showed me....

a lizard. A teeny, tiny, two-inch-long lizard. In my daughter's closet.
"See?? A yizard!!" (It's impressive, really, how high her voice can get when she's excited or insistent-no microphone needed for her!)
I stared at it for a minute, realizing that:
a) The teeny, tiny, two-inch-long lizard was very much alive and quite fast and
b) I had to catch it. As in right then. As in, I couldn't call the hubs with a cute story about a lizard in the closet and then wait until he came home from work to catch it. Or find some other boy to catch it, as I'd done in Brazil with frogs in the shower and giant moths the size of my face in my bedroom. I also realized that
c) This whole thing was deja vu...only when I was a little girl, it was a bat in the basement that started flying at me and it was my mother saying, "Oh, Kristin, there's not a bat in the basement..."
      I silently vowed that I'd never say  try very hard not to ever say those words to my children again; and then went in search of lizard-catching gear. And what, exactly, is lizard catching gear? Good question!
     A few minutes later, armed with a small Tupperware and a sturdy sheet of paper, I was back, clearing the kids away from where they sat ogling the lizard. Why didn't I just let Pax catch him, you ask? Well, although not at all squeamish about that kind of thing, the biggest Small Son is not exactly gentle with bugs...and lizards are a good thing-we just want them outside. Squashing it is more his style, as he proved with yizard # 7 last night. So I stifled my inner shrieking girl (turns out I'm surprizingly girly when it comes to catching lizards), captured the yizard under my tupperware, shimmied the paper in till our little friend was snug inside, and then sat and looked at him with my kiddos, amazed at how tiny and yet how perfect he was. Also kinda see-through. Which was kinda weird.
    Then I took him outside, released him...
and promptly called my husband's voice mail to tell him what I'd just done. Yes, I needed affirmation. See, we don't deal with this kind of thing in Colorado...yizards in the closet. Moths everywhere, yes. Spiders, absolutely (especially if you have a basement) Mosquitos, sure. But not yizards. And I would just like to say, thanks so much for this new experience, desert!! (or not.) Since then we've found no fewer than seven of the little guys at various times in our house. They're so teeny, they can get in anywhere...and my yizard catching skills are quite good, thankyouverymuch.
At least it wasn't a scorpion....

The Empty Cup.

Last night, the fam went to visit a church much closer to us than the one we've been attending...we heard about it through our new chiropractor (who is awsome-but that's another cool God-story for another day), and decided to head to the Saturday evening service since Adam had to work at 4am Sunday morning. Our kiddos (the older 2, anyway) are pretty used to the whole let's-try-a-new-church routine, so mostly they were just excited to meet some new friends. Adam and I were quite impressed with the children's ministry, the campus, etc. and headed into the service with the Littlest Bleger to check it out. We made it for the last song of the normal worship set (of course-who gets to church on time with a 3 week old? I don't, anyways...), sat down, and were pleasantly surprised to find out that they were about to take communion. Actually, the church does it every week-which is pretty cool. Most churches I've gone to do it maybe once a month. Here, yup, it's a part of the service every week.
*for those of you not familiar with the concept of communion (also known as the Lord's Supper), a super quick explanation...the night before Jesus Christ was arrested, he had dinner with his 12 disciples-those men closest to him. At the end of the meal, he took a loaf of bread, broke it, and told them "this bread is a symbol of my body, broken for you (referring to his upcoming crucifixion); eat it in remembrance of me," then, he took a glass of wine and told them, "This wine is my blood shed for you; drink it in remembrance of me," (my own paraphrase...from Luke chapter 22). Now, we're not talking cannibalism or anything weird here. Christ-followers (ie, Christians...of which I am gladly one) take communion to remember the sacrifice Jesus made for us: He died in the place of every person in the world, taking our sins on his blameless shoulders, so we wouldn't get the punishment we deserve (hell) but could spend eternity with Him if we accept His free gift. It's a beautiful, breathtaking gift offered to each of us and those of us who have accepted it see communion as a holy, sacred time to remember what was done for us.
So. The lights dimmed, the baby was asleep, and I settled in to spend a sacred moment with my Father. The plate with the tiny crackers and cups of grape juice passed us, and I took one of each...just like always.  Adam whispered to me that he thought we were just supposed to take it on our own...the speaker had said something about putting the cup back when you were done. I hadn't thought that meant right away...so I bowed my head, closed my eyes, had a little time of prayer, ate my tiny cracker, lifted the tiny cup to my lips...
yup.
empty.
I somehow hadn't noticed at all for a good 3 or 4 minutes that I'd taken an empty cup. Which, on one hand, eww-I put some random stranger's cup to my lips. On the other hand-really?? How do you not notice the cup is empty for the entire time you're holding it??
My husband says he's now questioning my salvation.
Me?
I'm just questioning my sanity.
Now I'm going to be paranoid when that plate comes around next week...

The rainbow

My small son has a problem. A nose picking problem...which we have tried just about everything to stop...but no go. Last night, as Adam put him to bed, he was diggin' for gold and, since it's so much drier here in Ft. Fun, the boogers were getting, well, a bit bloody. (sorry if you don't have small nose-picking children or if that just grosses you out in general)
Adam: "Pax, you gotta stop picking, buddy. See that red? It's blood."
Pax: "It's ok, Daddy. It's just a color of the rainbow,"
Sigh. As my husband would say...parenting is HARD!

Cookie Monster is alive and well...and living at my house.

So, I have this Small Son. He has a vivid ( oh boy is it vivid!) imagination which, among other things, brings him running to our room and flying onto our bed at LEAST twice a week because there are "scaries" in his room. We (being loving, if not sometimes rather tired) parents escort him back to his room (usually we take turns...a good nudge gets Adam up if need be), where we pray to Jesus to take the scaries away, give Pax sweet dreams, etc. Last night was no exception...well, except the Small Son had actually taken a nap yesterday (swimming 2 or 3 times a day will do that to ya!). I'm pretty sure that's where the trouble started...so, he'd already come in, been taken back, etc. At about 5am he came in again-he's pretty sure the day is old as soon as the sun peeks over the horizon-soi escorted him back to his bed.
"mama, look-can you just get those off?"
I ran my hand over the sheets and felt something...crummy. I immediately knew what had happened, but since it was 5am I ignored it, went back to bed, and knew I'd be hearing an interesting story later. An hour and a half later, both kids were up (thanks to the non-sleeper) and I headed out to the pool for a quick swim while Adam started the morning routine. Upon coming in, I found the sweet little angel sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of outmeal, and began the questioning.
" so, Pax...where did those crumbs come from in your bed?"
"oh, I just got a cookie,"
"you mean you got out of bed and came downstairs to get a cookie last night?"
"yes! It was sooooo yummy...I just sneaked down quietly, and got the cookies, and went to my bed and ate them alllll up! Yum!" (picture cookie-monster-ish noises and miming chomping on cookies)
"wait...cookies? How many did you have?"
"two! And then they were all gone," he shook his head sadly. (luckily...or else there would've been one sick little boy!)"and I just took them to my bed and ate them ALL UP and I was quiet and didn't wake up sister!"
Well, that's good at least...I'm still trying to figure out how come the kid can't stay in his bed cause of the "scaries"; but he can get out of his bed in the middle of the night and go downstairs in the dark by himself without a peep. The cookies were calling his name, apparently. So, you see, Cookie Monster DOES live at my house....and yes, Adam hid the cookies tonight.

Who are you, again?

It's been windy this spring. Like insane, blow-my-littles away kind of windy, almost every day. And the area our little condo is in is, for some reason, a wind magnet...some days I seriously think our house might blow down.
Besides being really not fun in the allergy department, I think the wind has made us all a little crazy. Well, actually, I KNOW it has....

Yesterday afternoon Pax ran outside for a bit while his Daddy was putting something in the car. Soon after Adam came back in, we heard him outside shouting...

"Hey Wind! WIND! WIND!! STOP BLOWING!! I told you....STOP BLOWING!!"
I think he was trying out the whole Jesus-calming-the-storm thing.
Too bad it didn't work...

But we sure got a laugh out of it!

Spring Fever

As my little family drove to our chiropractor appointment today, I spied the first blossoming tree of spring...beautiful white blossoms covering a giant tree on a road we don't usually drive down. "Look, Pax! Look at the flowers on that tree! Aren't they beautiful??" {I do this a lot. I notice random little things and point them out to him...he, in turn, has become super observant and now points out every firetruck, "policeoffice car", "ambilace", semi-truck, and-of course-"TRAIN!!" that he sees. but I digress.} "Awww.....it's so CUTE!" my 3 1/2 year old responded from the back seat. At which point I started to silently crack up. Then, after a few beats of silence... "Actually, I didn't see it, Mama. I just didn't see it." At which point I lost it completely. Thanks for affirming me, big boy. And for your honesty.

Once Upon a Snowman

Last week, at the tail-end of a nasty cold my kids began passing back and forth as soon as I stepped off the plane, we had a beautiful, fantastic, lovely snow. The kind that is perfect for making snowmen. You know, very wet and mooshy and not too cold the day after...perfect snowman weather for my not-so-good-at-being-winter-Coloradoans kiddos.A certain little boy insisted he wanted to make a snowman...Daddy decided it needed to be a giant snowman...and so it began. Although I'm pretty sure Adam did 90% of the actual building of the snowman.

And, yes, I know my daughter only has a sweater on-please don't report me, it was really quite warm by this point and she was only outside long enough for me to document the snowman-making. I promise! TaDA!! the finished product.

As soon as I snapped this picture, Adam turned to his small son and asked him if he wanted to knock it down.

KNOCK IT DOWN?? you just spent a half-hour building this thing!! I thought to myself...but Pax shouted "YEAH!!!" (of course!) and I switched to video mode....this is the difference between boys and girls. Girls like to admire their handiwork for a bit...boys just want to tackle it. And each other. I'm so glad I have one of each!

Afraid of.... what??

Pax was playing trains before naps Tuesday, while I fed the baby. Nothing unusual there.
Suddenly, he ran across the room and jumped onto the couch next to me.

Me: "What's up, buddy?"
P: "I'm just gonna hide behind you, Mama,"
Me: "Why? Is something scaring you?" (Climbing behind us is his usual M.O. when he sees something on TV that scares him, hears his daddy coming to "get" him, etc.)
P: "Yes,"
Me: "What is it?"
P: "I'm just scared of the poop, Mama,"

To which I had absolutly.nothing. to say.

hmmm....I COULD...

The kids woke up unusually early Saturday. I think it's a rule for them...they're in cahoots to get up RIGHT when we begin working out. Today, it was yoga day-started at 6:20. At 6:25, Pax started calling me. Tried to get them to both to go back to sleep-but nope. They were both downstairs by 6:35. We kept doing yoga; B thinks it's funny and Small Son likes to crawl underneath us while we do planks and stuff (it's a "tunnel", you know). He also thinks it's fun to try to do the poses-which is pretty funny to watch, really. At one point, we were doing a "chair"pose and had a little conversation that went something like this:

me: "Pax, you have to be super strong to do this. Are you super strong?"

Pax: "hmmm....well, I AM strong..."

me: "can you do this?"

Pax: "hmmm....well, I COULD do it...."

silence. Adam is trying to hold the pose while cracking up.

Pax: "uhhhh....No thanks. I'm just busy right now,"

and he proceeds to try to use the circles on my yoga mat as train tracks.

Well, okay, kid...if you ever get a minute and want to try it, just let me know...

seriously, this kid cracks me up.

Sweeping

Last night, while Adam was sweeping the floor, he jokingly asked B if SHE wanted to sweep. To which she responded by blowing a huge raspberry, and then grinning at him. Pax, on the other hand, immediately protested..

"Daddy! Bwyve can't sweep...she doesn't have any TEETH!!"

Yes, Pax. THAT'S why your sister can't help sweep the floor. Not because she can't even sit up on her own, let along walk....because she doesn't have any teeth. Yup. Oh, how I love the logic of a 2-year-old.

Teacher...or goofball?

Pax loves his Sunday school class-and why wouldn't he?? As soon as we walk up to the door, the teachers squeal "PAX!!" and he begins to show off a little for them. The fact that the main teacher is a cute blond high-schooler is a bonus; but he seems to like all of his teachers pretty well. When Adam and I picked him up from class today, one of his teachers asked us if we knew that Pax taught class every week. Um...what?
"Yeah," she said "as soon as we tell them to get their carpet squares, he brings his up to the board, puts it down, and goes up to the board and "teaches". He points to the board, tells a little story, wiggles his hips (apparently in imitation of the blond high-school teacher, who does the storyboard), and tells the kids "everybody say "JESUS!". (and, apparently, they obey him) It's hilarious!! I laugh so hard at him every week!"
Bingo. Think we figured out why he does this repeatedly...the kid loves an audience. Even better if the audience is laughing at him.
The kid's 2 1/2.
Should I be worried??
He also tells "Jesus!!" enthusiastically every week when we ask what's in his craft bag. But I'm pretty sure that's just a product of growing up in Sunday School....good to know Jesus is in the bag.

more adventures of the cupboard dweller...

Little P seems to have an unusual love of cupboards...or perhaps he just loves to climb, and being that every playground in Durango is covered with snow, he uses whatever is at his disposal! Either way, the little adventurer has discovered over the past few weeks that he can not only take lots of stuff OUT of cupboards (this is not a new discovery, of course...), but that he can put himself INTO them. Or at least, he likes to try! We find him in them at random times, singing and talking (and, yes, pooping) in them. He spends his days doing this.... and this...and, oh yes, this...

And of course this...and then he does this. What do I do with my days? Chase after him, mostly! And love (almost) every minute of it :)