1. Number of little boys who almost fell asleep sitting upright on his tow-behind bicycle. Thank goodness I caught him nodding in time!
2. Number of times we went bowling this week. We got free summer passes for the family and it's been a lot of fun. My non-bowling hand is not so into this as I would like for it to be, and it's protesting by cramping up. If I bowl a few more times weekly maybe that'll clear up. It will, right?
3. Number of brand new puppies we have in the house. They're fat and healthy and we're very giddy with excitement.
4. Number of days that Sam has worked the overnight shift and I've had to actually take the kids and leave the house in the morning to allow him to sleep. Micah simply does not grasp the concept of SHHHHH. We've managed to have a grand time out and about though, because that's what summer and family time are all about.
5. Hour of the AM that Micah has gotten up this week. You cannot fathom the kind of wrong that is. It's summer vacation!
6. Number of "Fresh, Homemade Donuts" we bought this week at the new store up the road. We were not amused to find they were nothing more than refrigerator biscuits deep fried and sprinkled with powdered sugar.
7. Number of consecutive days I've biked. It's my new passion and my day isn't complete until I put a few more miles on the odometer. Why yes, I did buy one. Did I say passion? I meant obsession.
Counting our Blessings
How To Get On A Disney Black List
There is no question that Micah loves his cowboy doll. Woody is a best friend, a security item, and a favorite toy all wrapped into one plastic boot wearing package. And yet, as much as Micah loves his best friend, that friend sometimes gets tossed aside when other fun things come up. If we aren't on Woody Watch, the cowboy will turn into a lost toy. At times like that, we fan out and begin the search.
Hand up the one who spotted him in 3 seconds flat.
But we're not happy with quality control in the elf inspection section of Disney. You see, our plastic boot wearing cowboys tend to die a pretty grisly death after too much love and play time. This just isn't right. Plus, it's traumatic on the poor kiddo that loves Woody immensely and has to change him out for a newer model frequently. We've had recurring problems with plastic boots just snapping off, leaving Woody rather bootless. But the last malady is thin facial plastic. It's ridiculous, really.
This nice doll, who is much loved by a little boy, has a problem.
Yes, he's had a lobotomy. We explain that to people at least thirty eight bazillionty times a day. Micah will not play with a doll that has lost a boot, but he will continue to love a half headed one. Go figure.
I figure at some point, Disney will be adding us to the black list. Our name will be on a piece of paper taped near the cash registers, entitled "Don't Sell Woody Dolls To These People." But really, it's not our fault. According to both Disney and Pixar, the only thing that should happen to that cowboy doll is a broken arm. All I have to say is that they'll make a smashing Halloween focus. Maybe it'll scare other kids into never playing with Woody dolls again, and the prices in stores will drop.
Hey, one can dream.
We're Working On Our Snubbing Skills
I had a scary revelation today. Sit down for this, just in case you weren't aware of it either.
Summer is 1/3 over.
I know, right?! Where does the time go? The kids and I have so much to do while they're off school, and I feel as though school is already eyeballing us from the horizon. It's not good. I'm not happy. So to combat that impending return to school, the kids and I went on a picnic today. Nothing says Summer like a picnic. See?
There's this super duper awesome place just over a few hills from us (translation: an hour's drive, like everything is around here) that has about thirteen playground areas besides that many pavilions and picnic areas.
It has the best areas for photo opportunities as well.
But the real draw for this super duper awesome place is the sliding board. The one that goes the whole way down the hillside, with a bump or two in it just for fun.
The kids love that slide immensely, and it's very handy at helping to snub school, mocking us from the horizon.
A Pause In The Kablooey Effect
"Mom! Mom! He's singing!"
When you have kids, you hear things like this a million and thirteen times an hour. The tattle taling gets old in a hurry. And you'll notice that kids will never tattle when it needs to happen. You never ever hear things like, "Mom! Freddie is trying to climb out the window to reach the roof. He has a homemade parachute!" That only happens on Phineas & Ferb. Instead, it's always things that don't matter.
All day long it's "he's looking at me" or "his breath stinks" or "he stunk up the bathroom and now I'll have to hold myself for an hour to wait for it to clear." Stupid stuff. Stuff that makes your head spin until it explodes. Stuff that makes you wonder why you had kids in the first place.
And yet, when I heard the seven thousandth tattle that day, my heart swelled with immense pride. "Mom! Mom! He's singing!" Sure, it's petty and would induce head spinning on any given day, but that's only if it came from one of the older three kids. But we treat Micah differently. Milestones are huge things in his world since you never know when he'll accomplish one.
Micah has reached the age of tattle taling. It's going to be a very long and frustrating few years before we're through this, I'm sure, but it's a cognitive milestone that nobody even knows to celebrate with other kids. We didn't. But we do now.
And also? I heard it. "Mom! Mom! He's singing!" as he pointed to his older brother who was, indeed, singing. I heard it clearly. And it was so very sweet.
Biking With the Boys
We had one of those pull behind things for kids to sit in when we went biking, and Micah took complete advantage of that thing the one time we had it out. (Mostly, I used it as an off road stroller of sorts to haul around kids that didn't walk yet.) But the boy has reached the point where he wants to do everything his older siblings do, and riding in a cart while everyone else is biking just isn't cool. At all.
So we traded up for a Co-Pilot. This fun little invention is a bike that attaches onto the back of an adult bike. That adult would be Sam, because this adult has trouble enough balancing herself, much less Micah and his bike.
Today, we hit the trail with the bikes, as a family. It was the first time I've biked in years. Literally. I remember the last time I went, my backside was sore for days afterward. I invested in a comfy, cushioned, super-extra-wide seat before we headed out, and it made all the difference in the world. I had a great time and really enjoyed it. Sam, on the other hand, had quite the workout. Pulling that boy was a chore, but Micah loved it immensely.
And here's where I'll put a plug in for this awesome invention, even though I said it was a chore for Sam to drive. Methinks it's designed for toddlers who can't bike yet, because, duh. One wouldn't buy it for their teenaged son who's too lazy to pedal on his own. The problem we have is that Micah is not a toddler, but a 65 pound lunk of solidness. Sam is going to be in super shape by the end of summer, and Micah is already a very happy camper.
Also? I'm incredibly proud of myself. Not only did I manage to keep my bike upright the entire time and not have an accident, but I took pictures while riding. For being a Major Klutz, that's pretty huge right there.
Summer School, Home School Style
This summer, we've opted to not send Micah to summer school. Again. I like to keep my kids home with me in summer because the school year is long enough. And Micah likes to be home when his siblings are. It's a form of cruel and unusual punishment to send one child to school while that child knows his siblings are at home enjoying themselves in the pool.
I do have a teeny, tiny little bit of concern for not sending Micah to summer school this year. Summer school is recommended for those kids who will lose so much of what they've learned that it'll take longer than most kids to re-learn it once school resumes in the fall. These kids will then fall further and further behind their peers because of all the recapping they have to do in order to retain learned things.
This is the very first year that Micah actually learned anything to forget. He now knows his alphabet, and can recognize the letters in print as well as verbalize their sounds (as much as he's able), and he can count and write his numbers. Pride oozes from him as he does this, too. Much like it does from me while I listen to him.
So we've decided to be proactive this summer and make learning a daily event without actually making it a chore. We have the alphabet taped to the patio door so that he has the opportunity to review any time before he heads outdoors. We also have the alphabet in the upstairs hallway, and I take time to go over this with him as frequently as I can. Micah mostly counts things on his own because he's my boy and lurves numbers a whole, WHOLE lot. But still, he needs to practice writing them to keep up his handwriting skills. (He struggles with that a lot.)
I had Luke help Micah with his counting one day. Luke rocks at things like that.
But the daily rain shower washed it away (seriously, it's like a rain forest here), so Micah recreated it. Learning. It's what summer school is all about.
Shopping With Micah
Becky and I were perusing the racks of clearance clothing looking for shorts and sundresses. Micah was in a grand shopping mood, which you'd think would be good but in reality is not so much. When he's happy to shop, he's all about taking things off the racks, holding them up to try on, filling the cart with whatever strikes his fancy, and his newest obsession - trying things on. We don't encourage any of these kind of shenanigans.
And yet, there we were. And there was Micah. And we were all shopping.
Micah chose a pair of plaid shorts that were absolutely darling, for the size 12 woman they were designed to fit. He carried them toward the dressing room, but was sidetracked in the women's nightgown department. There, he found a long nightgown with ruffles around the bottom. It was pale yellow and sported flowers and teddy bears in a print so tiny that you had to almost squint to see the images. If you're thinking it sounds like something your grandmother wore, you're dead on. The best part about the fact that he loved this immensely is that he was very sure Becky needed to try it on.
So at the dressing room, sans old lady gown, Becky was trying on trendy teen rompers and shorts while I stood waiting with an armful of sundresses. It was then that Micah decided he wanted to try on his shorts. He sorted through my armload until he found a plaid, but as I'd put back his shorts when he was distracted by old lady nighties, he only found a plaid sundress. Still, being a fan of plaid, he wanted to try it on. I put the hanger over his head and let him try it on right there.
He loved it. A lot.
He wore it around the store, hanging down the front of him with the hanger around his head. He was so thrilled with his plaid dress. The old lady at the dressing room counter was a bit taken aback. I think she was in need of a new yellow nightgown herself.
Superbly Heroic
While at Legofest, I saw something that piqued my interest. I took a picture of it to remind myself to try it, and as luck would have it, we stopped at Old Navy on the way home. I bought what I needed to make it happen.
Behold.
The boy loves super hero wear. Capes are da bomb, and masks are awesome. The best part is that this cost me $3 on a clearance shirt. Mens size Large, to be exact. I probably could have gotten away with a medium.
Directions: Cut the shirt up both sides, cutting off the sleeves.
Cut the front off, leaving the neckline ring.
Yep, that's it. You're done with the cape. But there's also a mask. See?
And the really super good news is that it's even easier to make than the cape.
Directions: Cut one of the sleeves to a total length of just a few inches. (Depending on the size of your kid's head, of course.)
Put on your kid's head and mark where the eye holes are.
IMPORTANT: DO NOT CUT EYE HOLES WHILE YOUR KID IS WEARING THE SLEEVE. Egads, I am not taking responsibility for those of you who are all about breaking rules and forging your own way.
After cutting eye holes, you're going to cut a nose curve between them, and then you're completely finished.
You can add all sorts of funness to that cape and mask with permanent markers or fabric paint. Or you can let your super hero decorate his or her own. The cape and mask alone will inspire pride and heroic efforts. It's the best $3 I've spent in a very long time.
It Was Loudly Colorful
Legofest Pittsburgh, Father's Day, 2011. The hype was manufactured so that the boys would be all sorts of excited over it. And they were. But sometimes things don't always go as one plans. Actually, things rarely go as I plan them in my head. My head lies to me a lot.
Micah was thrilled nigh unto death with the waterfall at the convention center, and that was before he even entered the building. Once inside, he saw a larger-than-life Lego creation of his favorite Really Not Imaginary Friends in the whole world and ran for a meet and greet.
From there, the boy just plain ran. He ran to his-sized Lego men.
And Batman.
He paused briefly to make a race car or three and send down the track.
He saw pirates.
And lions.
And there was so SO much more. But we didn't even think about the poor boy becoming overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd. He just couldn't cope with the public announcement system making even more noise and the family splitting up to go this way and that amidst the other overwhelming factors. Legofest turned into this for him.
We had to find a place for him to get away and decompress. Thank goodness there was such a place, and thank goodness it was empty and big. Somersaults are his way of balancing out his world again. It took 16 of them to get from one end of the hall to the other. He crossed it 3 times.
And when we came back, he was able to further destress by playing in a huge brick pile. Those things? Are awesome.
But not quite as awesome as Lego City. In my humble opinion, I think it was the best thing at Legofest, hands down. All that awesomeness that you see? Created by kids, on the spot, and added to the city as they're completed. How fun is that?
When the Batmobile Breaks Down
It's shocking what boys will do on a dare. Or just because you tell them they won't.
We Make Shirts. We Fail Miserably. We Beg For Help.
One of our summer fun activities was to make tie-dyed shirts. Even the teens wanted to get in on this fun, because, Hello! Fun! We raided our closets for plain white tees (and bought some one clearance for those who didn't have any) and chose red and blue dye to make summery 4th of July kind of shirts.
We meticulously banded the shirts to make a funky design.
We dipped one side in red dye (mixed with hot water and salt, as instructed in the directions on the package).
And then we turned them around and dipped the other end of the shirt in the blue dye. We learned that plastic gloves should probably have been part of our must-have items for tie-dyeing. At one point, it looked very much like Becky had committed a very greusome murder and had the bloody hands to prove it. It was awesome.
When the colors were just as we (thought) we'd like them, the kids then painstakingly removed the rubber bands. After the first such band was removed, scissors were procured. Things went much faster after that. The shirts were laid out flat on the lawn and hosed off to get the excess dye out. I knew up front that wearing an apron would protect my clothing from getting ruined.
And then I hung the shirts on the line to drip dry so that we wouldn't have to wring them and mix colors while they were wet. They looked soooo fun, and the kids were super excited about how they turned out.
And because I didn't want the colors to run together, I asked Dr. Google how to make them colorfast. Soaking in white vinegar for 24 hours would do just that, so we did, just that, taking care to put each shirt in it's own bucket so as to avoid excessive color bleeding while they're becoming color fast.
And then I rinsed the shirts in cold water until the colors ran clear, and popped them in the washer to get the vinegar out. Once they came out, they looked like this.
Stellar, no? Yucky rust and faded blue colors, that bled into a purple hue on the white part. While still kinda cute and very original, it's certainly not the awesomeness that we wanted to create.
Help? Anyone out there know how to do tie-dye where the colors actually stay exactly how you want them?
Pan Skillz. He's Got Them.
Micah loves movies. Musicals, cartoons, classics, action - he loves them all. He's memorized more film dialogue than any single actor in history, I think. But it's a toss up on what his favorites are. He loves action, and he loves music. It's why Disney is such a huge hit with the boy - they pack both into every flick they make.
Micah acts out his favorite movie scenes. He's quite the talented actor, too, playing Mr. Magorium, or Buzz, or Mary Poppins. There's nothing the boy can't act out. And he dances quite well, mixing and matching dance moves from all of his favorite characters.
And while we love to watch him recreate movies immensely, I do have a bone to pick with Disney over Tangled. I am now locked in the pantry, the door is propped shut with a chair, and when I power my way out, I am met with a boy wielding a cooking pan. The boys has some pan wielding skills, too, trust me.
Thanks, Disney. Thanks a lot.
Two Birds, One Stone. And a Check Off the List.
It's been a fun summer so far. And the best part is that it's only been a week. *sigh* Life is good.
While Luke has his list of fun things to do this summer, I have a similar get-done list. Most of the get-dones have been started over a year ago. And there's the grill surround that was started quite a number of years ago. This summer alone I started a stone fire pit and a stone patio that may or may not ever get finished before summer is over. Here's hoping.
But I did get a few things done already this summer and I'm incredibly proud of myself for them. One of them is the planting of the gardens. When buying vegetables at the greenhouse this spring, I was suffering a rare form of dementia where you lose your mind and have no idea what either your right hand *or* your left is doing. Neither can you count, and your math perception is WAY off. I came home from that other-worldly trip with nearly 7 dozen tomato plants. And because I loathe wasting anything, I planted them all. Our plan is to can tomato sauce and make salsa to feed the family this winter. I'm pretty sure we've got enough tomatoes to do that with.
The other thing I started (and finished!) this summer was make more seating for around the fire pit. I have debated for years on how to do a fire pit and what kind of seating I need for around it, but this summer I realized that something just needs to happen. So I made it happen, thanks to my newest love, Pinterest. I found an awesome concrete block bench and though, "Hey, you! You have some of those lying around just taking up space and looking terribly cluttery. How 'bout you turn them into that bench there and not only take care of that seating problem but tidy up the place as well. One stone, two birds."
So that's just what I did.
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| Bonus: The Boy thinks it's his personal outdoor bed. He approves. |
And while they're not the classiest things you've ever seen, they're actually comfortable, and a wonderful height, and the improvised armrests/cup holders rock. Except the part where you can see those unsightly holes in them.
Two things, checked right off my list. And it's just the first week of summer. Go, me.
Ten Year Olds Are Dieting
Luke said the other week that he was fat, and as we joke a lot in our family, I didn't realize at first that he was serious. When I did realize it, I was very quick to shoot down that fallacy. My word, the kid is 10 years old and is in a size 8/10. He and Micah wear the same size clothing, and Micah is 2 years younger, and small for his age. Luke is not much more than a twig. A healthy twig, mind you, but a twig nonetheless.
His reasoning for this fat belief was his tummy. You know, the tummy that every person has. And the fact that he just ate a meal and it was a tad more noticeable than usual made him think that he was fat. As if. But I let him know that he was actually on the skinny side of the equation and he came to realize that you are not judged by your tummy. (Unless you're a woman, of course, in which case you totally are. I'm disgusted by that fact, but it's truth nonetheless.)
So this morning when Luke said, "I think I'm going on a diet this summer," my ears pricked. My first thought was, "what the heck?! That's it, the kids are not watching TV and we're going back to homeschooling." And then I got hold of myself and realized that wasn't a viable solution to today's tragedy that kids are obsessed with body image at too young of an age.
Where are the days of childhood, when you gave no thought to what you looked like until you were a teen? Why does media have to focus so much on looks?
I asked Luke what he meant by "diet," because there was no way I was going to let a child of mine starve his healthy little self on a whim.
"Remember when Becky said yesterday that Micah eats healthier than I do?"
Yeh.
"Well, he does. But when I start my diet I'm going to eat super healthy and be like Micah."
I'll never discourage a kid of mine from eating healthier.
It Was Redneck Day at the Farm. Or Is That Redundant?
With two teens, it occurred to me that my days of parenting kids that appreciate fun and get super excited over tiny little things are numbered. I know that we have Micah, who will always get excited over tiny little things, but he does everything that his siblings do so I'm guessing that he'll find a way to squelch his excitement over fun just to conform. So with my days severely numbered, I've determined to make this the best summer ever. Or, The Best Summer Ever, even.
To that end, Luke made a list of summer fun, and we'll check things off as we accomplish them. The awesome part is that they've been out of school less than a week and we've checked off quite a few. Another awesome thing is that it feels much longer than less than a week, and I'm thrilled to death. How I love my kids here with me all day, with no thought to schedules, or waiting for the bus to deliver them to me at the end of the day.
(Get back with me in about 2 months. My tune will probably change dramatically.)
Today's fun? Target shooting. It was a family event, except for the daughter who is anti all things redneck. We're beginning to wonder if she was somehow switched at birth. The boys and I had a good time, however. See?
Micah was all kinds of ticked that he couldn't shoot the pistol, but it kicks just a WHOLE LOT MORE than he can handle, even with Daddy's help. We let him shoot the .22 because it's an easy shoot, but only with heavy supervision and a lot of must-follow rules.
And then, because he wanted to shoot all by himself like the rest of the family was, we turned him loose with the BB gun. Since he can't pump it himself, or load a pellet, it was totally safe. And it made him happy to hear that air puff when he pulled the trigger. All by himself.
I'm Kinda Thinking This is a Good Thing
Micah imitates everything that he sees. This is good and bad. Let me give you mental illustrations.
Scenario One
We have boys in our family. (duh) Boys roughhouse and wrestle and pants each other and fart. Micah does all that, too, and laughs, because he's doing what the "big boys" do. And while the roughhousing and wrestling are pretty much good, and the farting can't be curbed no matter what this mama tries to do, it's the pantsing that has caused an issue. Thankfully, Micah seems to know that one doesn't do that in public (or it hasn't occurred to him to do that in public yet) but at home, the boys are generally in danger of having their nethers exposed at any given time.
This became a huge issue the other day when Micah exposed everything on a particularly good pantsing. The older boys were irate over it, but I reminded them that it was they who taught Micah that pulling someone's pants off was acceptable behavior. If they are going to continue doing it, so will Micah. If they want him to stop, so will they. End of story. They decided that it is now a banned practice in our home.
Scenario Two
Becky has a boyfriend. While we discourage any form of physical contact, and prefer for them to gaze lovingly into each other's eyes from across a room, they have other plans. (And she mumbles things about lame parents while rolling her eyes...) When they think we're not looking, they'll smooch or hug. I know this because I'm not stupid. And also because when I walk into a room or turn around, I'll catch them. But mostly because I'm not stupid.
Micah has taken quite a shine to The Boyfriend. He'll high five him frequently, and has started hugging him when he leaves. But recently, he's decided that he needs to kiss said boyfriend. Odd, because he doesn't randomly kiss people. And not only does he want to smooch, but insists he needs to plant one on the lips.
I actually enjoy the whole awkward thing with the boyfriend trying to ward off a very determined Micah. Heh.
Since The Boyfriend isn't around daily, it took me a while to realize that Micah is imitating his sister. That is what one does with The Boyfriend - kiss and hug. And while Becky is all, "Micah, you can't kiss him on the lips!" I just sit back and smile while saying, "it's only what he's seen you do. You have to make a choice. No kissing, or allow him to do what you've shown him is acceptable."
The nonverbal boy is going to be the best chaperone ever. I love it.
Your Eyes Just Light Up, Dear
Our fire pit is my very best friend these days. With summer here, there's nothing more wonderful than sitting around the fire in the evenings, making s'mores or simply watching the fire burn. And it makes for the best family time ever, like tonight, as we were eating watermelon and roasting marshmallows. (What? They go together.)
Becky: When I'm sitting near a fire, I'm always afraid that my eyelashes will catch on fire.
Rest of family: Bwahahaha
Becky: Well my mascara says it's flammable, and I wear so much of it that I'm really afraid that it'll ignite.
Rest of family: Bwahahaha
Life is very good here.
