Everyday Life: Like Lightening

Once in a blue moon, something really worth celebrating happens.

And now that the families have been notified, I get to celebrate here in this space, too.

We're gaining a new family member come September {and, no, I'm not birthing this one!}



My baby sister is getting married!

John and I will be gaining a brother-in-law and the boys an uncle, whom we all like very much!

Especially G, despite some initial misunderstanding about the engagement:

"How exciting! Mike asked Aunt Jill to marry him!"
"And what did she say?" G asked.
"What do you think she said?"
"She probably said no," he bluntly replied
"Well, actually, she said yes."
"Heeeeeyy!!!" he squealed! "He took the girl I was going to marry when I grow up!"

But all is good as G has decided he might like to marry someone closer to his age when he grows up.

Like, perhaps, Melissa's daughter, M.

"I'll probably just marry M instead, mommy," G shared just a few moments later. "You know, she'll be my young wife."
"Honey, you're too young to get married."
"I'm not! I'm big!" he exclaimed.
"The law says yoy really have to be 18 to get married without your parent's permission," I said.
"Probably I'll talk to Miss Melissa when we go to the bug museum Tuesday. She'll probably say yes," he replied, nonchalantly.

Errrm. Well, OK, then. :)

After we convinced G that he should wait about 18 years or so before asking for M's hand in marriage {kid's got PLANS!} G moved onto more pressing, more timely matters during his post-engagement chat with Mike

"You should pray to God and ask him for kids," G said. "I think God will give you some."

One step at a time, kid. One step at a time.

Is he always going to be this far ahead of me, barreling through life like slivers of lightening streaking from sky to ground?

I blink, and he's already gone.

Everyday Life: A Heartfelt Conversation

So I was cleaning out all the drafts in my posts section when I came across this gem from November 5, 2011, one day after John's birthday. And I couldn't NOT share it. We needed documentation of such a conversation for the dinner conversation we'll likely have with G. 25 years from now as his own kids are driving him bananas.

The boys and I worked hard this week to put together a really lovely albeit small celebration for John's 28th birthday Thursday.

We made cards with rocket ships and planets {though G. insists they are lemons}.

We found the perfect presents:

Tickets to a theater production {from me}.

A picture of G. and John from daddy night at preschool in a manly frame {from G.}

And you don't want to know what E. gave John for his birthday this morning when he woke up {gag}; I'm sure you can figure it out on your own.

But I'm pretty sure John's favorite present wasn't anything we made or bought him. I'm almost positive his favorite present was a conversation with G.

"Daddy, why do you have hair on your arms?" he asked.

"Because sometimes when boys get older they grow hair on their arms," John replied.

"Oh, well, hair is not supposed to be on your arms," G. said. "It's supposed to be on your head. You don't have a whole lot of hair on your head over here."

G. pointed to John's thinned hairline, and further explained, "but you do have a lot of hair in the back. I think you need to grow some over here."

Nothing like a fabulous birthday conversation with your 3 year old to remind you that not only are you one year closer to 30, but the front part of you hair is already well beyond your years.

Conversationalism: Part Two, on work and grocery shopping

A few of the conversations had with my 3.5 year old during the span of one day:


7:28 a.m.: "Mom. Mooooooom. MOOOM!"

7:28 a.m.: "I'm late for work at the fire station! I need you to drive me there."

7:28 a.m.: "Yes, I do work there! LOOK! I'm wearing my fire coat and fire hat and fire boots."

7:28 a.m.: "My name isn't G. It's Rich the firefighter plumber."

7:28 a.m.: "If I don't go to work, who will help all of the people?"

7:28 a.m.: "I'm going to ask daddy to take me."

7:35 a.m.: "Mo-OM. Daddy said he won't take me to work at the firestation and he said my name is not Rich. And it is! I AM Rich the firefighter plumber."

****

10:28 a.m.: "Hey, mom, can we use that cart? Look, it's a car! I want that blue car cart!"

10:28 a.m.: "Hey! HeyWAIT! Mom. MOOOOOOOOM. YOU FORGOT THE BLUE CAR CART. WAIT FOR ME!"

10:28 a.m.: "I neeeeed green apples. Mom, really, I need green apples."

10:28 a.m.: "But I see green apples."

10:28 a.m.: "Are you sure those green apples are pears?"

10:28 a.m.: "If we would have taken that blue car cart, I could have droven us to find the green apples and we wouldn't be in this mess."

10:30 a.m.: "Can we buy pretzels?"

10:30 a.m.: "I didn't SEEEE any pretzels in the drawer."

10:30 a.m.: "When we get home I'm going to tell daddy about this."

10:30 a.m.: "He's probably going to put you in time out for being mean to me!"

10:30 a.m.: "He's probably not going to let you play with any toys or have dessert."

10:30 a.m.: "He's not going to tell me I can't play with any toys or have dessert."

10:30 a.m.: "What are gypsies?"

10:30 a.m.: "But where would I sleep?"

10:30 a.m.: "But I don't want to sleep in a tent!"

10:30 a.m.: "OK! I won't tell on you! Don't sell me!"

10:30 a.m.: "But teasing is NOT nice."

10:42 a.m.: Unexpected item on the belt. Pleas--

10:42 a.m.: "But I'm not touching the belt."

10:42 a.m.: Unexpected item on the belt. Please remove the item and place it -- .

10:42 a.m.: "My HANDS are not touching it!"

10:42 a.m.: Unexpected item on the belt. Ple--

10:42 a.m.: "Those are my ELLLLLbows, mom."

10:42 a.m.: Unexpected item on the be --

10:42 a.m.: "OK! I'm sorry! I won't touch it with my hands or my elbows or my ARMS."

10:44 a.m.: "Why do you put that card in the machine?"

10:44 a.m.: "How does the monies come out of that card and go into the machine?"

10:42 a.m.: "Why don't we have any REAL monies to pay for our groceries?"

10:42 a.m.: "I have monies in my piggy bank. I could pay for the groceries if you let me smash it open."

10:42 a.m.: "You and daddy do have real monies and the real monies is in that card?"

10:42 a.m.: "Look the blue car cart is gone. Oh, now I'll NEVER get to take it with me."

10:43 a.m.: "I don't want to get buckled in my seat."

10:43 a.m.: "If I get buckled in my seat will you take me to work at the fire station?"

10:43 a.m.: "I do, TOO, work there. I pay them monies."

10:43 a.m.: "Yeah, they pay me monies."

10:43 a.m.: "Will you get real monies if you sell me to gymsies? Because I don't want to sleep in a tent with people I don't know. Only people I do know. I like living with you and daddy and E."

10:44 a.m.: "Can we put our bed in a tent?"

Everyday Life: Peanuts

A few of my favorite quotables from my favorite 3.5 year old ...

As we're decorating the Christmas tree ...

"Mommy, I need some h**kers," G. says excitedly.

"Huh?!" I ask.

"I can't hang the ornaments without the h**kers," he replies. "So where's that bag?"

Key explanation that we call them simply "hooks."

He nods his head, says OK and continues to decorate the tree.

Five minutes pass and ten more ornaments are hanging before he calls again,
"Mommy, I'm out of h**kers again!"

Good thing we only decorate our tree in the privacy of our home.

****

I walk in the living room only to discover G. trying on John's jeans.

As he's trying to find his foot in John's tall pant legs, I cannot help but ask the obvious.

"G.," I begin, "why are you wearing those jeans?"

"I want to wear his belt," he shares, as he continues pulling the material up toward his nose.



I can't really think of anything else to say until he adds, "Do you know why I want to wear the belt?"

"Nope," I admit.

"I wear the belt so that it holds my pants up so that no one sees my peanuts, mommy."

I try to hold back my laughter, but I cannot contain the huge totally amused smile creeping across my face.

"You're what?" I manage to ask.

"You know, my peanuts," he says. "You call it a w**nie, mom."

Ah, yes. Note to self: use appropriate words in future.

{Sorry, I had to edit so many words here ... you wouldn't believe the types of searches that bring people to my page if I don't.}

Everyday Life: Dehydrated

Sometimes when I'm at the end of my rope, and I think my kids are totally going to turn out to be juvenile delinquents because the older one is chasing the dog around with a stick in the backyard while militantly ordering him to get to time out NOW and the little one laughs when he jams his fingers up my nose while tears stream down my face from the sting and I'm pretty sure that one or both of them threw their bath toys in the toilet after *not* flushing just to see if I will run out of the house crying and pulling my hair out {deep breathe in!} ...

my three year old reminds me that he is only three by saying something during an overheard conversation like, "Aunt Jill, I broke my leg."

"Oh, no!" Aunt Jill says. "How did you do that?"

"Well, Aunt Jill, my leg was dehydrated ... it doesn't have hydrates, so I broke it, and now I have a cast."

{Deep breathe out.}

And I remember that I should wait, at least, until they both turn five to decide whether or not they are both going to have permanent seats with name plates in detention {either here at home if we homeschool or at away-from-home school.}