I finally entered into the age of technology. It’s interesting, I’ve been using a computer pretty regularly since my sister told me, in my fifth year of college, that I needed to “take a class”. Seems instructing her 25 year old, university-degreed sister on how to print a document was all the reason she needed to offer that sound advice. So I did.
I picked up on the whole Internet thing pretty easily, and as any administrator knows, communication at the click of a mouse via email is a lot more efficient than the old fashioned “Memo”. I even figured out how to create a “blog”, although I still don’t really know what that word means.
This past week, I delved one step further into the digital era and created a profile on Facebook. I’ve lost touch with so many friends from the past, I thought this might be a good way to reconnect, and as it turns out, with time, it is. But it’s also just another thing a busy mom can put on that to-do list of things she may never actually have time to do.
I got up early Sunday morning to put on a brisket, and I thought I’d give this new “toy” a whirl.
It seems there is a whole new language to learn when one attempts to navigate through this type of airspace, and I didn’t have time for a tutorial session to re-learn what words such as “flair”, “boxes” and “poke” really mean to the avid net head, so I went straight to the profile section. Surely I could answer a few simple questions about myself? However, this too, turned out to be more difficult than I could have imagined.
Answering questions about my age, my whereabouts and the people in my family was not so difficult. It’s when I got to the more personal questions that I began to struggle.
Q1: What are your activities? Hmm. Activities. Do people really want to know this? Who could possibly be interested? Maybe I’ll skip it and come back.
Q2: What are your interests? Hmm. What are my interests. What are my interests? Oh, no…I don’t have any interests. I’ve lost my interests! Quick! Next question!
Q3: Favorite music: What are they kidding? Like I’m supposed to put “Humpty Dumpty” down on this thing. Grownups are gonna read it. Grownups who knew me professionally and in college. Grownups who used to find me interesting, enjoy my company! Next.
Q4: Favorite TV shows: Well now, this is just getting ridiculous.
I decided I’d have to bite the bullet if I was really going to do this Facebook thing. I’d just have to tell the truth. So I did.
Q1: What are your activities?
A: ...pretty much whatever my two and four year olds are into at the moment. I teach Wednesday night Bible class, work at the paper and take my grandmother to the beauty shop on Fridays. I cook three meals a day, do dozens of loads of laundry a week and build miles and miles of train track. I drive fast racecars around a square card table and crash monster trucks off the back of the couch. And when I get up at 6 a.m. to try and do something I’m actually personally interested in, I get one little helper, teary-eyed, hair tousled, down the stairs at 6:35 saying, “I thought you were gonna come to bed and sleep with me.”
And that's not all. Just as I got him settled into the couch and sat back in my seat, re-gearing my mind for the task at hand, I heard birds chirping the tune “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” from a music box running on a dead battery, and a high-pitched pleading from the baby, “Maaameee”. It was now 6:43.
I let him lay for barely a second before his big brother suggested I go get him out of his bed. I thought (possibly out loud) maybe Daddy will get him, and I attempted to finish my “activity” at hand.
7:04-“Maaamee. I need a dwink.” And again with the suggestions. “Mom, can you go get him a drink?” What I need here is a little more guidance.
I decided to go on with my mission, but it seemed my mind had been erased and with it all logical thought, coherent sentence structure and any faint idea of where I was planning on taking this piece. It was all gone with the mere sound of one, drawn-out little word, “Maaamee”.
7:11-Get a refill of coffee. That’ll get the mind back in gear.
Q2: What are your Interests? Well, now that’s a different question. Being interested in something and being active in it-I can see how the two are miles apart. So I thought for a moment, but just a moment because half a moment is really all I had, and as I felt the electricity of an idea forming in my mind, just seconds from shooting down to my fingertips and onto my keyboard, there must have been a power surge in the area, because all my hands heard was a quiet and muffled, “Maamee, I want you.” So what is a mom to do…I sat there for a moment more.
My mind drifted from the assignment in front of me to why it is that the boy’s daddy is 10 feet away and doesn’t hear him talking but I’m on an entirely different floor and I can hear him perfectly. Oh, it must be because sound…travels …down???
This completely worthless thought led to a quick look at the clock-7:22, then a mental count down of all the things I must do before Bible class at 9:30. Is it possible?
Unfortunately, I’m afraid all those folks I’m dying to reconnect with may just have to remember me as I was in the past. On second thought, I think I’ll try again. Life is sure a lot more interesting right now!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
These are a few of my favorite things…
-The way you yell for me every morning to come to your bed because you want to “snuggle with Big Mommy”.
-The way you make racecars and trains and monster trucks run on the never-ending motors in your mouths.
-The way you say “may I please” even though I have no idea who taught you that phrase.
-When you pull on my fingers to help me get up.
-How you are always willing to “be a good worker” no matter what the task at hand.
-The way you hug and kiss your brother good night.
-Watching you lick the beaters after helping in the kitchen.
-Watching you hold your song book upside down and hearing you sing “Jesus Loves Me” in the middle of worship while the congregation sings any other song but that.
-How you announce it to the world every time you pass gas.
-How you say every night at bedtime, “Will you go away and come back?”
-The way you remind your little brother of the rules of the house.
-The funny faces you make when you are playing and acting silly.
-How much you love and look up to your daddy.
-The way you say, “See how big I am now!” after every single meal.
-The one time in a million when you let me rock you to sleep.
-The way that you love your old dog, Bessie.
-The way you always want to pick out our lesson for Bible class.
-How seeing and playing with Mom and Dad are still the most important parts of your day.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
-The way you make racecars and trains and monster trucks run on the never-ending motors in your mouths.
-The way you say “may I please” even though I have no idea who taught you that phrase.
-When you pull on my fingers to help me get up.
-How you are always willing to “be a good worker” no matter what the task at hand.
-The way you hug and kiss your brother good night.
-Watching you lick the beaters after helping in the kitchen.
-Watching you hold your song book upside down and hearing you sing “Jesus Loves Me” in the middle of worship while the congregation sings any other song but that.
-How you announce it to the world every time you pass gas.
-How you say every night at bedtime, “Will you go away and come back?”
-The way you remind your little brother of the rules of the house.
-The funny faces you make when you are playing and acting silly.
-How much you love and look up to your daddy.
-The way you say, “See how big I am now!” after every single meal.
-The one time in a million when you let me rock you to sleep.
-The way that you love your old dog, Bessie.
-The way you always want to pick out our lesson for Bible class.
-How seeing and playing with Mom and Dad are still the most important parts of your day.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The month after Christmas
There’s nothing harder after two weeks of Christmas fun than getting back to work. With the holidays behind us, the jet lag that comes from all those long days and late nights is starting to set in. We’ve overindulged, and under heavy assault, have given in to all the requests for cookies and candy canes and ice cream before bed. And now we’re under attack.
In our first moments “alone”, the boys and I went through challenges I thought we’d already conquered. “I want candy for breakfast.” “Get me some milk.” “Hey Mom, he’s touching me!” And on and on and on. From fighting me at naptime to laughing at my discipline, by nightfall, I was ready to start thumbing through the classifieds.
But in a moment of grace, after the 17th hug and the 14th “I love you, Mommy”, before bedtime, I decided to take my sorrows to song. And this is what happened.
“Twas the Month after Christmas”
Twas the month after Christmas
And all through the house
My children are screaming,
And where is my spouse!
The stockings are gone,
The turkey’s been eaten
But nothing will calm them,
Not even a beatin’.
Their manners forgotten
And without a care
They demand and they order
And pull at my hair.
“Play with me, Mommy!”
The oldest one shouts.
“I want some more candy!”
The youngest does pout.
Too cold to go out,
Too wired to stay in,
Too bad these two boys
Are too old for a pen.
At naptime they cry
And they wallow and wail.
They jump on the bed
And they laugh and they flail.
I try to hold steady.
Be nice. Talk calm.
But they will not cooperate
So I drop the big bomb.
“When your father gets home
You’re gonna be sorry!”
But they looked at me cockeyed and
Went on with their party.
So I went to my dresser
And picked up my belt.
I snapped it and shook it…
And started to melt.
The oldest one watched as I
Started to wane.
His behavior continued;
It drove me insane!
But he made the mistake of
Taking for granted
That Mom is a softie and
That’s when I planted
One barely a whisper-
A tickle of a lick-
Across his fair backside
With my own whipping stick.
He cried and he whimpered
And his sweet little brother
Lay still as a dead man
Under those covers.
When they finally closed
Those tired little eyes
I vowed to avoid
Another reprise.
So I prayed and I promised
And swore to myself
That I’d develop more patience.
Start asking for help.
And I heard them both whisper
As I moved out of their sight,
“That was better than a spanking
From Daddy tonight!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
In our first moments “alone”, the boys and I went through challenges I thought we’d already conquered. “I want candy for breakfast.” “Get me some milk.” “Hey Mom, he’s touching me!” And on and on and on. From fighting me at naptime to laughing at my discipline, by nightfall, I was ready to start thumbing through the classifieds.
But in a moment of grace, after the 17th hug and the 14th “I love you, Mommy”, before bedtime, I decided to take my sorrows to song. And this is what happened.
“Twas the Month after Christmas”
Twas the month after Christmas
And all through the house
My children are screaming,
And where is my spouse!
The stockings are gone,
The turkey’s been eaten
But nothing will calm them,
Not even a beatin’.
Their manners forgotten
And without a care
They demand and they order
And pull at my hair.
“Play with me, Mommy!”
The oldest one shouts.
“I want some more candy!”
The youngest does pout.
Too cold to go out,
Too wired to stay in,
Too bad these two boys
Are too old for a pen.
At naptime they cry
And they wallow and wail.
They jump on the bed
And they laugh and they flail.
I try to hold steady.
Be nice. Talk calm.
But they will not cooperate
So I drop the big bomb.
“When your father gets home
You’re gonna be sorry!”
But they looked at me cockeyed and
Went on with their party.
So I went to my dresser
And picked up my belt.
I snapped it and shook it…
And started to melt.
The oldest one watched as I
Started to wane.
His behavior continued;
It drove me insane!
But he made the mistake of
Taking for granted
That Mom is a softie and
That’s when I planted
One barely a whisper-
A tickle of a lick-
Across his fair backside
With my own whipping stick.
He cried and he whimpered
And his sweet little brother
Lay still as a dead man
Under those covers.
When they finally closed
Those tired little eyes
I vowed to avoid
Another reprise.
So I prayed and I promised
And swore to myself
That I’d develop more patience.
Start asking for help.
And I heard them both whisper
As I moved out of their sight,
“That was better than a spanking
From Daddy tonight!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Christmas is for children
As holidays go, this one was pretty typical. Travel, shop, eat; sleep a little, eat, shop some more; eat, eat, eat; wrap presents, open presents, clean up trash created from opening presents; eat, play with new toys, try not to lose new toys; eat, clean up the endless mess from all the eating, eat a little more; pack bags, give hugs and kisses, travel to another destination and do it all over again.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. But sometimes the parts we look forward to just get lost in the hubbub. I always start off very optimistic; excited to see all our family, to spend time visiting and catching up. Then reality hits me like a runaway Thomas Train and I remember…we have kids. We all have kids, and kids have to eat, play, dress, poop, drink oceans of juice and be corrected at almost every turn-and as of yet, they can do none of this by themselves. So I’ve had to learn to alter my expectations. After all, Christmas is for children.
We have tried really hard not to over do the gift getting part of the holiday. It’s hard, because we see things we know they’d love, and we want them to have it. But let’s face it, that’s a monster we don’t want to create. While Dollar Store stuff will satisfy them now, they will grow up, and who wants two entitled teenagers who can’t be content on their 16th birthday with a $1500 used truck that they had to help pay for? So this year, we got creative.
Now, when I say “we”, what I really mean is Dad. He may be the brains in the family, but he’s also pretty artistic when the need arises. See, the present that we wanted to give the boys this year was nowhere to be found, at least not in our price range. So “we” decided to make it.
Thanks to a book from their grandmother and a movie from Aunt Debbie, our boys have fallen in love with Peter Pan. And while we’re thankful it isn’t Barney or The Wiggles or Spongebob Squarepants, I’ve had to draw the line at just exactly what they can use to reenact their favorite tale. The day I found them using wire hangers for hooks and part of Brisco’s baby book for their treasure map, I decided maybe they needed a few props. And that’s what got us thinking.
Dad said if I would get the canvas, he would paint the boys a treasure map. I glued some dowel rods on each end, and we rolled it up and put it under the tree. I found a small pair of kids’ binoculars as well, and that is what they woke up to find on Christmas morning.
Now to some, this may not seem like much, but their love of this classic cannot be understated. Every hook-shaped candy cane is a reason to shout, “I’ve got you now, Pan!” Every empty paper towel roll is an excuse to yell, “Peter Pan ahoy!” One day I walked through the living room and heard Cooper saying, “Licky butter nickels” (translation: like barnacles) and calling Brisco “Mr. Smee”. At our house, this Neverland thing is serious business. So when Randy suggested that Santa leave the boys’ gifts under a different tree, I thought it was the greatest idea since Pixie Dust. See, the map that he had created was of Grandmother’s house, complete with cars in the driveway, dog pen, home plate, trees, sidewalks, blue shutters and a little boy looking out the second story window. And an “X” just happened to mark “the spot” under the big, dead elm tree in Grandmother’s back yard.
So on Christmas morning, after all the presents had been opened, Dad put coats and shoes on their still-pajamad-feet, and told them to grab their binoculars and map. We had a Christmas treasure to find.
Cooper was in the lead, and he had this treasure hunt thing down to an art. As he walked around the house, map opened in front of him like a scroll, following the dotted line in front of him to the step, Brisco followed with the binoculars, and together they went looking for “buried treasure”. As they rounded that old elm tree out back, they discovered a shiny, new, red wagon, a huge box full of Lincoln Logs and best of all, a giant “hook” of a candy cane, filled with Christmas candy. And with a smile and a look of accomplishment, they hauled their booty to the house.
So as it turns out, this Christmas was not so typical. I hope the boys will be able to remember their holiday treasure hunt and to retell their story to their own kids some day. I hope that as parents, when we contemplate the many Christmases to come, we will remember the excitement of the moment and the anticipation we felt in giving such simple gifts and watching our boys light up at their discovery.
As a good friend of mine put it, Christmas is for children. “Just to have all those little ones tearing open their gifts surrounded by people who are focusing on them and radiating love for them-that’s quite an experience.” And she’s right.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. But sometimes the parts we look forward to just get lost in the hubbub. I always start off very optimistic; excited to see all our family, to spend time visiting and catching up. Then reality hits me like a runaway Thomas Train and I remember…we have kids. We all have kids, and kids have to eat, play, dress, poop, drink oceans of juice and be corrected at almost every turn-and as of yet, they can do none of this by themselves. So I’ve had to learn to alter my expectations. After all, Christmas is for children.
We have tried really hard not to over do the gift getting part of the holiday. It’s hard, because we see things we know they’d love, and we want them to have it. But let’s face it, that’s a monster we don’t want to create. While Dollar Store stuff will satisfy them now, they will grow up, and who wants two entitled teenagers who can’t be content on their 16th birthday with a $1500 used truck that they had to help pay for? So this year, we got creative.
Now, when I say “we”, what I really mean is Dad. He may be the brains in the family, but he’s also pretty artistic when the need arises. See, the present that we wanted to give the boys this year was nowhere to be found, at least not in our price range. So “we” decided to make it.
Thanks to a book from their grandmother and a movie from Aunt Debbie, our boys have fallen in love with Peter Pan. And while we’re thankful it isn’t Barney or The Wiggles or Spongebob Squarepants, I’ve had to draw the line at just exactly what they can use to reenact their favorite tale. The day I found them using wire hangers for hooks and part of Brisco’s baby book for their treasure map, I decided maybe they needed a few props. And that’s what got us thinking.
Dad said if I would get the canvas, he would paint the boys a treasure map. I glued some dowel rods on each end, and we rolled it up and put it under the tree. I found a small pair of kids’ binoculars as well, and that is what they woke up to find on Christmas morning.
Now to some, this may not seem like much, but their love of this classic cannot be understated. Every hook-shaped candy cane is a reason to shout, “I’ve got you now, Pan!” Every empty paper towel roll is an excuse to yell, “Peter Pan ahoy!” One day I walked through the living room and heard Cooper saying, “Licky butter nickels” (translation: like barnacles) and calling Brisco “Mr. Smee”. At our house, this Neverland thing is serious business. So when Randy suggested that Santa leave the boys’ gifts under a different tree, I thought it was the greatest idea since Pixie Dust. See, the map that he had created was of Grandmother’s house, complete with cars in the driveway, dog pen, home plate, trees, sidewalks, blue shutters and a little boy looking out the second story window. And an “X” just happened to mark “the spot” under the big, dead elm tree in Grandmother’s back yard.
So on Christmas morning, after all the presents had been opened, Dad put coats and shoes on their still-pajamad-feet, and told them to grab their binoculars and map. We had a Christmas treasure to find.
Cooper was in the lead, and he had this treasure hunt thing down to an art. As he walked around the house, map opened in front of him like a scroll, following the dotted line in front of him to the step, Brisco followed with the binoculars, and together they went looking for “buried treasure”. As they rounded that old elm tree out back, they discovered a shiny, new, red wagon, a huge box full of Lincoln Logs and best of all, a giant “hook” of a candy cane, filled with Christmas candy. And with a smile and a look of accomplishment, they hauled their booty to the house.
So as it turns out, this Christmas was not so typical. I hope the boys will be able to remember their holiday treasure hunt and to retell their story to their own kids some day. I hope that as parents, when we contemplate the many Christmases to come, we will remember the excitement of the moment and the anticipation we felt in giving such simple gifts and watching our boys light up at their discovery.
As a good friend of mine put it, Christmas is for children. “Just to have all those little ones tearing open their gifts surrounded by people who are focusing on them and radiating love for them-that’s quite an experience.” And she’s right.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
“Year in review”
As the holidays approach, it’s that time of year when we often find ourselves looking back over the past months and taking stock of our existence. What were our goals? What did we accomplish? Did we at least survive? Such is life for a parent.
I look back at the last 12 months and I wonder how my kids could have changed as they have. I wonder where those babies have gone! Could it really be that just a short time ago we were learning to talk and changing two sets of diapers and finally sleeping alone? Those are only a few of the moments we’ve endured over the course of this past year.
We met mean little kids at the grade school playground. We grew accustomed to taste-testing every new bowl of dog food, and we perfected our performance at family weddings.
We learned how to shop with a superstore buggy and learned to make “Alto Meal” without any lumps. We learned that there’s more than one Old Yeller in the family, and if we’re not careful, those crazy Road Trips just might cause someone to let out a serious growl.
We’ve learned that there is just no excuse for poor performance at the ballpark, and no amount of screaming or crying or peeing in the stands will save you when you’re due a swat from Daddy’s belt.
We’ve moved homes and moved towns and changed the color of our teams, but we finally came to understand that not all “red socks” are “dirty”.
We’ve learned to sing and catch fly balls and be at one with nature.
We’ve watched as our boys have developed personalities of their own. Cooper, our true Little Randy, his daddy through and through, and Brisco, that ornery, mischievous little rascal who we’ll either laugh at or beat to death, depending on the day of the week. Both alike in so many ways, yet distinctly different, growing into the best of pals and the greatest of competitors all at the same time.
Over the course of the year, I’ve learned to accept the importance of male bonding, conceded that I’ve seen the last of my Saturdays, and prayed for my very own superhero to deliver a moment of peace at the end of a weary day. I’ve learned that sometimes a mom needs to give in and let go. Say yes a little more often. Worry a little less.
We’ve enjoyed blessings and adventures. We have taught lasting truths and learned valuable lessons-many of them the hard way. And all these things we have done together.
As we move into a new year, we’ll continue to enjoy the firsts of our boys and keep looking for firsts of our own. We’ll celebrate every new memory of childhood and revel in whatever stage of life we happen to find ourselves, no matter what challenges parenthood brings next. And above all, we’ll thank God for the blessings of the year gone by and the joy that is surely to come.
And that’s our year in review.
I look back at the last 12 months and I wonder how my kids could have changed as they have. I wonder where those babies have gone! Could it really be that just a short time ago we were learning to talk and changing two sets of diapers and finally sleeping alone? Those are only a few of the moments we’ve endured over the course of this past year.
We met mean little kids at the grade school playground. We grew accustomed to taste-testing every new bowl of dog food, and we perfected our performance at family weddings.
We learned how to shop with a superstore buggy and learned to make “Alto Meal” without any lumps. We learned that there’s more than one Old Yeller in the family, and if we’re not careful, those crazy Road Trips just might cause someone to let out a serious growl.
We’ve learned that there is just no excuse for poor performance at the ballpark, and no amount of screaming or crying or peeing in the stands will save you when you’re due a swat from Daddy’s belt.
We’ve moved homes and moved towns and changed the color of our teams, but we finally came to understand that not all “red socks” are “dirty”.
We’ve learned to sing and catch fly balls and be at one with nature.
We’ve watched as our boys have developed personalities of their own. Cooper, our true Little Randy, his daddy through and through, and Brisco, that ornery, mischievous little rascal who we’ll either laugh at or beat to death, depending on the day of the week. Both alike in so many ways, yet distinctly different, growing into the best of pals and the greatest of competitors all at the same time.
Over the course of the year, I’ve learned to accept the importance of male bonding, conceded that I’ve seen the last of my Saturdays, and prayed for my very own superhero to deliver a moment of peace at the end of a weary day. I’ve learned that sometimes a mom needs to give in and let go. Say yes a little more often. Worry a little less.
We’ve enjoyed blessings and adventures. We have taught lasting truths and learned valuable lessons-many of them the hard way. And all these things we have done together.
As we move into a new year, we’ll continue to enjoy the firsts of our boys and keep looking for firsts of our own. We’ll celebrate every new memory of childhood and revel in whatever stage of life we happen to find ourselves, no matter what challenges parenthood brings next. And above all, we’ll thank God for the blessings of the year gone by and the joy that is surely to come.
And that’s our year in review.
“Year in review”
As the holidays approach, it’s that time of year when we often find ourselves looking back over the past months and taking stock of our existence. What were our goals? What did we accomplish? Did we at least survive? Such is life for a parent.
I look back at the last 12 months and I wonder how my kids could have changed as they have. I wonder where those babies have gone! Could it really be that just a short time ago we were learning to talk and changing two sets of diapers and finally sleeping alone? Those are only a few of the moments we’ve endured over the course of this past year.
We met mean little kids at the grade school playground. We grew accustomed to taste-testing every new bowl of dog food, and we perfected our performance at family weddings.
We learned how to shop with a superstore buggy and learned to make “Alto Meal” without any lumps. We learned that there’s more than one Old Yeller in the family, and if we’re not careful, those crazy Road Trips just might cause someone to let out a serious growl.
We’ve learned that there is just no excuse for poor performance at the ballpark, and no amount of screaming or crying or peeing in the stands will save you when you’re due a swat from Daddy’s belt.
We’ve moved homes and moved towns and changed the color of our teams, but we finally came to understand that not all “red socks” are “dirty”.
We’ve learned to sing and catch fly balls and be at one with nature.
We’ve watched as our boys have developed personalities of their own. Cooper, our true Little Randy, his daddy through and through, and Brisco, that ornery, mischievous little rascal who we’ll either laugh at or beat to death, depending on the day of the week. Both alike in so many ways, yet distinctly different, growing into the best of pals and the greatest of competitors all at the same time.
Over the course of the year, I’ve learned to accept the importance of male bonding, conceded that I’ve seen the last of my Saturdays, and prayed for my very own superhero to deliver a moment of peace at the end of a weary day. I’ve learned that sometimes a mom needs to give in and let go. Say yes a little more often. Worry a little less.
We’ve enjoyed blessings and adventures. We have taught lasting truths and learned valuable lessons-many of them the hard way. And all these things we have done together.
As we move into a new year, we’ll continue to enjoy the firsts of our boys and keep looking for firsts of our own. We’ll celebrate every new memory of childhood and revel in whatever stage of life we happen to find ourselves, no matter what challenges parenthood brings next. And above all, we’ll thank God for the blessings of the year gone by and the joy that is surely to come.
And that’s our year in review.
I look back at the last 12 months and I wonder how my kids could have changed as they have. I wonder where those babies have gone! Could it really be that just a short time ago we were learning to talk and changing two sets of diapers and finally sleeping alone? Those are only a few of the moments we’ve endured over the course of this past year.
We met mean little kids at the grade school playground. We grew accustomed to taste-testing every new bowl of dog food, and we perfected our performance at family weddings.
We learned how to shop with a superstore buggy and learned to make “Alto Meal” without any lumps. We learned that there’s more than one Old Yeller in the family, and if we’re not careful, those crazy Road Trips just might cause someone to let out a serious growl.
We’ve learned that there is just no excuse for poor performance at the ballpark, and no amount of screaming or crying or peeing in the stands will save you when you’re due a swat from Daddy’s belt.
We’ve moved homes and moved towns and changed the color of our teams, but we finally came to understand that not all “red socks” are “dirty”.
We’ve learned to sing and catch fly balls and be at one with nature.
We’ve watched as our boys have developed personalities of their own. Cooper, our true Little Randy, his daddy through and through, and Brisco, that ornery, mischievous little rascal who we’ll either laugh at or beat to death, depending on the day of the week. Both alike in so many ways, yet distinctly different, growing into the best of pals and the greatest of competitors all at the same time.
Over the course of the year, I’ve learned to accept the importance of male bonding, conceded that I’ve seen the last of my Saturdays, and prayed for my very own superhero to deliver a moment of peace at the end of a weary day. I’ve learned that sometimes a mom needs to give in and let go. Say yes a little more often. Worry a little less.
We’ve enjoyed blessings and adventures. We have taught lasting truths and learned valuable lessons-many of them the hard way. And all these things we have done together.
As we move into a new year, we’ll continue to enjoy the firsts of our boys and keep looking for firsts of our own. We’ll celebrate every new memory of childhood and revel in whatever stage of life we happen to find ourselves, no matter what challenges parenthood brings next. And above all, we’ll thank God for the blessings of the year gone by and the joy that is surely to come.
And that’s our year in review.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Don’t Mess with my Toot Toot!
Music is a part of life, and our house is no exception. Whether it’s a drippy faucet, a squeaky shoe on the bathroom tile, or a song being blared out of a standard-option, car radio, kids love the sounds that pervade their world.
When they are young, they make no distinction between music and noise. I guess that’s something that comes with age. And they don’t really care about getting the words right or carrying the proper tune. They just revel in the sounds that so easily sail out of their mouths and into their auditory locale. The “Itsy Bitsy Spider” is a prime example.
I’m not sure why our kids love this song so much. Maybe it is a boy’s natural inclination to investigate spiders and snakes and the like. Whatever their draw to the classic nursery song, they both have their eight-legged friend going up “the spider spout”, and no amount of correction from mom can change it.
The alphabet song is another of their favorites. Both boys get the same letters transposed when they sing it, but they never forget to say, “Next time won’t you sing with me,” unlike their cousin Harlie who actually says, “Next time don’t sing with me.” Cooper and Brisco must agree on some level because they haven’t quite connected on the idea of singing in unison. They each want to be the loudest, and when the other brother tries to bust in with his own version, they’ll holler, “Mom! I can’t hear myself sing while he is singing!”
Brisco is really the musical one of the two. I can remember singing to him a lot when he was just a baby. I sang to Cooper too, but it never seemed to soothe him the way it did little B. Even to this day he will lull about the house, singing to himself while he’s playing with his toys or tormenting his brother. And the kid really can hold a tune. Cooper, bless his heart, can get dramatic with his musical inflection but the notes don’t always seem to come out just right.
But that is no matter. It doesn’t keep him from trying. He actually seems to be getting a feel for some of the more popular jives. An old AC/DC tune came on the radio last week in the car and Randy and I both got a kick out of watching him bob and sway his body about in his head-bangin’ little car seat. And the boy grins and giggles with delight when Dad says, in his best Cheech Marin impersonation, “Respect the classics, man!”
From showing their muscles at the “He is strong” part of “Jesus Loves Me” to misinterpreting Garth Brooks’ “Loooo-ng neck bottle” for “Naaaa-ked bottom”, there is really no end to the hilarity and entertainment that music, created by a child, can bring.
And when they get going, there’s really no stopping them. They’ll go about the day spouting one liners from a whole spectrum of different songs. From “Take you ridin’ in my car, car,” to “Pea-nuuut, peanut butter…jelly!” these boys are definitely a sight to behold, and a sound to be heard as they go about their daily business and play.
Their newest favorites are a collection of songs sent from an old classmate of mine including timeless classics such as “The Chicken Dance” and “Herman the Worm”. It isn’t unusual to find all three of us waddling around the living room singing, “Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk,” like a trio of crazed chicks, or wiggling and wriggling as we grow “thiiiiis big!” just like ole Herman.
But banging the bottom of two metal racecars together is just as pleasing to their sweet little ears as a requiem by Mozart or a concerto by Tchaikovsky. And playing the air-harmonica to an old Bob Dylan classic with Brisco in the background saying, “He said Steel-an-Stone!” can bring a smile to a mom’s face like no other over-priced, live and in person concert I’ve ever attended.
Yes, music is a part of life. And there’s none that sounds sweeter than when it’s created by children. Especially your own. So until the days when we disagree about what they consider music and what we consider noise, I’ll continue to enjoy dancing around like a chicken and listening to my baby meander about, impersonating ole Fats himself with his own two-year-old version, “Don’t mess-y my Toot Toot!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
When they are young, they make no distinction between music and noise. I guess that’s something that comes with age. And they don’t really care about getting the words right or carrying the proper tune. They just revel in the sounds that so easily sail out of their mouths and into their auditory locale. The “Itsy Bitsy Spider” is a prime example.
I’m not sure why our kids love this song so much. Maybe it is a boy’s natural inclination to investigate spiders and snakes and the like. Whatever their draw to the classic nursery song, they both have their eight-legged friend going up “the spider spout”, and no amount of correction from mom can change it.
The alphabet song is another of their favorites. Both boys get the same letters transposed when they sing it, but they never forget to say, “Next time won’t you sing with me,” unlike their cousin Harlie who actually says, “Next time don’t sing with me.” Cooper and Brisco must agree on some level because they haven’t quite connected on the idea of singing in unison. They each want to be the loudest, and when the other brother tries to bust in with his own version, they’ll holler, “Mom! I can’t hear myself sing while he is singing!”
Brisco is really the musical one of the two. I can remember singing to him a lot when he was just a baby. I sang to Cooper too, but it never seemed to soothe him the way it did little B. Even to this day he will lull about the house, singing to himself while he’s playing with his toys or tormenting his brother. And the kid really can hold a tune. Cooper, bless his heart, can get dramatic with his musical inflection but the notes don’t always seem to come out just right.
But that is no matter. It doesn’t keep him from trying. He actually seems to be getting a feel for some of the more popular jives. An old AC/DC tune came on the radio last week in the car and Randy and I both got a kick out of watching him bob and sway his body about in his head-bangin’ little car seat. And the boy grins and giggles with delight when Dad says, in his best Cheech Marin impersonation, “Respect the classics, man!”
From showing their muscles at the “He is strong” part of “Jesus Loves Me” to misinterpreting Garth Brooks’ “Loooo-ng neck bottle” for “Naaaa-ked bottom”, there is really no end to the hilarity and entertainment that music, created by a child, can bring.
And when they get going, there’s really no stopping them. They’ll go about the day spouting one liners from a whole spectrum of different songs. From “Take you ridin’ in my car, car,” to “Pea-nuuut, peanut butter…jelly!” these boys are definitely a sight to behold, and a sound to be heard as they go about their daily business and play.
Their newest favorites are a collection of songs sent from an old classmate of mine including timeless classics such as “The Chicken Dance” and “Herman the Worm”. It isn’t unusual to find all three of us waddling around the living room singing, “Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk,” like a trio of crazed chicks, or wiggling and wriggling as we grow “thiiiiis big!” just like ole Herman.
But banging the bottom of two metal racecars together is just as pleasing to their sweet little ears as a requiem by Mozart or a concerto by Tchaikovsky. And playing the air-harmonica to an old Bob Dylan classic with Brisco in the background saying, “He said Steel-an-Stone!” can bring a smile to a mom’s face like no other over-priced, live and in person concert I’ve ever attended.
Yes, music is a part of life. And there’s none that sounds sweeter than when it’s created by children. Especially your own. So until the days when we disagree about what they consider music and what we consider noise, I’ll continue to enjoy dancing around like a chicken and listening to my baby meander about, impersonating ole Fats himself with his own two-year-old version, “Don’t mess-y my Toot Toot!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
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