Let the games begin...

Saturday marks the first practice day for T-ball for my little guy. We'll see how this goes - soccer wasn't the hit we thought it would be, even though he could kick a ball from the time he started walking. He was very excited about playing soccer, just not playing soccer with everybody else. He had very little interest in learning the 'fundamentals' of the game - in his mind, to play soccer you: run, kick ball, chase ball, catch ball then kick it again. Which is good - just not really playing. Since this was a parent/child interactive soccer team; we spent most of our time yelling at him to "come baaaaccck, buddy!" as he flew across the soccer field in the opposite direction of the coach and us. We gave up after 3-4 practices.

It just wasn't worth getting mad at him for enjoying himself.

Happy Birthday

History: this weekend was sweetest hubby's birthday; next week is mine.

Got a text from little man's teacher at school today. Seems he'd been telling his buddies about our recent/upcoming birthdays.


"Ben told his friends that his daddy is 45 and his mommy is 23".

Yeah, thaaaat's my BOY!!

Just call me Oscar.

Ok, this has nothing to do with anything/anyone in particular. Not true, I'm sure it's hormonal. It's just me, venting.

1. Sometimes I hate, hate, hate my job. Like today.
2. Sometimes I hate people. I just want to be alone and not talk to anyone. Got a problem?
Don't wanna hear it. Need something? Get it yourself. Leave me alone.
3. I get tired of having to be nice all the time. I'm gonna explode.
4. I wish I could wiggle my nose and change things, but I can't.
5. I'm being intentionally vague. I'm sorry.
6. Not really.
7. I don't want to have to think about problems, bills, cooking, cleaning, job, laundry - etc. Not right now. I want a raincheck.
8. I want to check-out for a little while. Ok? Maybe take a hot bath and listen to music. Or not. Maybe complete silence. yeah. That would be nice.


Yesterday, sweetest hubby and me went to pick up little man at school. When we got there we noticed his class seated on the floor listening to the afternoon teacher reading a book. It always amazes us how they can corral a roomful of 4 year olds into one small area and keep them there, relatively quiet and still, for any length of time. Must be magic.

We didn't want to interrupt the story, so we stood outside the door and peeked in, observing the class in the reflection of the mirror over the sink in the classroom. When the story was finished, little man - who'd been sitting on the front row - stood up and quietly walked the two steps to his teacher, leaned over and gave her a big hug. She hugged him back and he went to sit back down, but as he turned around he caught sight of us outside the door and came running.

I thought how sweet my little boy is. I don't get to see much of the interaction of my child and others; I drop him off in the morning as I head to work, and pick him up in the evening after work. But his day to day activities, I really don't know much about. I get daily reports from his teacher and they'll occasionally have a blurb about something he did - but mostly, I'm in the dark. It was nice to see a completely spontaneous act of kindness shown to someone other than his mommy or daddy.

These are the things I want to be able to remember. I know I'll forget most of the daily happenings, good and bad. But I want to remember how I feel when I see the smile light up his face when he sees me or his daddy. How he smells - fresh from a bath, still warm and a little damp; or after playing all day he 'smells like a billygoat'. How he thinks 'shaking his bootie-bottom' is a dance that is funnier than anything. How he says "watch this, daddy" a million times a day. How he giggles when he toots. How he wants somebody to snuggle with him in the morning. How he always wants his chocolate milk first thing like I want my coffee. How if he wants to tell you he loves you more than anything, he says he loves you "more than the city" - I have no idea why that means a lot, but to him it does. How he likes to show off his 'moves' which are essentially contorted, convoluted, made-up karate kicks - but to him that is some pretty fancy footwork. How his imagination can keep him occupied and entertained when mommy is too busy doing something other than paying him attention. I want to remember things that are even now getting fuzzy after time. When we played with the water hose for the first time in the backyard of our home in Columbus; he was only in a t-shirt and diaper and he splashed around making a muddy spot in the grass and he thought it was the greatest. Or the day we had a huge rain shower and we let him run out into it until he was soaked to the skin - how he laughed and laughed and splashed in the puddles made on the driveway.
I want to remember it all. His hugs, his smells, his voice - oh, his voice! - when he sings or talks on and on. How he wraps his fingers around mine when we walk through a parking lot, or sometimes as we walk into school he'll slip his hand into mine without my asking and how I love the feel of it.

All these things I want to remember, but I worry that I won't.


Got a little help with the housework this morning in the form of a little man who wanted to make up his bed before school (!) and he wanted to do it
all by himself; with Mama out of the room:

"I'll call you when I'm dunned".

So, I went to get his bath ready and wait.

Just a few minutes later he calls me back into his room, a big smile on his face:

"look, mama! I made up my bed and I put all of them close together because
they're best friends" (stuffed toys on his bed)

Great job, little man.

Ok, so if you know me, you're aware that I'm normally a little OCD about bed-making, but there's no way I'm gonna mess this up by straightening it and making it 'right' by my so-called standards. He worked very hard to get it just so and was so proud. I may just have to change my way of thinking when it comes to bed-making.

Sharing with Daddy

Went to eat at a local restaurant after church last Sunday with my two favorite guys. After eating yeast rolls hot out of the oven with (way too much) butter; we continued to see just how fast we could get our arteries to slam shut by ordering roast beef sandwiches loaded with melted swiss cheese, tiny thin-crispy onion rings with a 'tangy' Cajun horseradish sauce - all on toasted ciabatta bread, with - of course - au jus. Ahh.
I felt the best thing to round out this infarct-arousing lunch for me would be fries. The sweetest hubby thought an order of onion rings would do the trick.
(I guess onion rings on the sandwich wouldn't be enough....)

Little man's lunch wasn't much better. He got mini-corndogs and cheetos. At least the cheetos were baked. I'm not that bad of a mom.

The sweetest hubby had to share his onion rings with the little man. After trying to bite through one particularly tough onion ring, little man pulled the whole onion out of his mouth and handed it to his daddy - keeping the other, yummy part.....

"Here, Daddy. You can have the onion. I'll eat the ring".

Never knew what to call the coating on an onion ring till now.