A Moment Captured

I found a picture of you.

You were maybe four or five years old, I'm not sure. You're holding a water gun in your hands, and the look on your face is so serious. I wonder what you're thinking about? Your mouth is open, just a little. What were you about to say, buddy?

The sun is shining on your soaking wet hair - I'm not sure if it's wet from sweat or the water gun battle - or both!  I see your little-boy-dirty-streaked face, with your eyes shining.  I remember that brown and blue shirt that you're wearing - how many times did I wash that thing?

I can even recall the smell of that little boy, with his ever-present wiggling, moving, noise, and sweetness.

I remember that day - it was warm, the sun was shining on us, out in the backyard. I look at that picture and it was only a handful of years ago, but so long ago, really.

 

You turned 11 a few days ago.  Eleven, my little boy with the bluest eyes.

 

I'm so proud of you!  You make me happy, and I have been incredibly blessed to be your Mom.

 

Happy Birthday, my sweetest boy.  I love you.

Crawfish and Sausage Soup

 

This is the recipe for the soup Ben loves - we made it for the first time way back in 2010.  I was in the kitchen trying to figure out something to make for supper (hmm...is there a theme here?) and Ben was 'helping' me.  So, we literally started throwing things in a pot, and this is what we came up with!  The measurements are approximate - it's basically a dump-it-in-to-taste recipe.

 Crawfish & Sausage Soup
  
Medium-dark roux, using 1/2 of a stick of butter and 1/3 cup of flour

1 lb  Cajun Smoked Sausage, sliced
1 package crawfish tails, rinsed
1/2 medium onion, chopped
2 bay leaves
1 can chicken broth
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1/2 T dried parsley
salt and pepper to taste
Pasta of your choice, cooked
Louisiana Hot sauce, optional *

Make a medium-dark roux;  when done, add onions to roux and cook over medium heat till done.  Transfer to a medium sized stock pot.  Add sliced sausage, chicken broth, bay leaves and parsley.  Bring to a boil.  Add cream of mushroom soup, whisk to combine.  Add crawfish tails and cooked pasta, season with salt and pepper.  Heat through, remove bay leaves and serve immediately. 


*The sausage has a bit of heat to it, but if you want to add hot sauce, go for it.  Because I made it with Ben in mind, I didn't add the hot sauce.





 

yo quiero taco mio!!

 

Every afternoon, on our way home from school I typically ask Ben a few things - how his day went, whadja' eat for lunch, any problems at school, etc.   Tuesday afternoon was no different as we drove the short distance home....lunch consisted of pb&j, his day went 'fine', and no, there were no problems.  Then:

me: Want anything special for supper?
him:   Can we have tacos?
me:  Sure!  I have taco stuff! 
him:  Can we have tacos tonight and spaghetti tomorrow night? 
me:  Sure,  no problem!

We get home, argue over homework for way too long, and then I piddle around a little til it's time for me to start supper.  Fast forward 30-45 minutes or so, the Daddy walks in the door from work.  Ben comes in from the living room - where he's been glued to the tv - to greet his Daddy.  As he's walking around the bar into the kitchen, he asks me if the tacos are ready. 

Crickets.

Tacos?!

Ah!  Oh no!  Giggle!

I made spaghetti!!! 

Somehow, when I opened the pantry door to get out the taco kit, I must have had spaghetti on the brain and pulled that out instead!  It nevereverever even occurred to me as I was up to my elbows in noodles and sauce that I was making the wrong meal! 
All was forgiven, though, as long as I promised we could have tacos tomorrow night - Wednesday.

Now, normally we try to eat Wednesday night supper at church - it's always good, it's cheap, and easy on the Mama - but yesterday the meal they had planned was something that I knew Ben would not eat, so I intended to go home and make the promised tacos.  Wednesday afternoon riding home from school same routine - same answers too, now that I think about it......anyway......

We get home a little later than I had intended when I made the plan/promise to make tacos for him, so I asked him would it be ok if we skip the tacos (again!) and maybe have some hot dogs?  He laughed and said, sure.  (why yes, I'm catering to a 7 year old.....what?)  So, hot dogs it was! 

And another promise for tacos 'tomorrow night'. 

This morning I was reminded of my taco promise.   My baby wants tacos!! 




Just got a call from the Daddy.  Looks like we're gonna have to skip the tacos again tonight.....







Who wants to break the news to the little man?

rednecks-r-us

Sitting here at the kitchen table, enjoying my coffee for breakfast,  while I wait for the tv antenna (antennae?) installers - who were supposed to be here at 8 am...drums fingers on the table....

Just got buzzed by a visiting hummingbird!  I'd noticed them this weekend, out front - going back and forth to the (empty) feeders.  But this morning, he/she came right up to the kitchen window and peeked inside!  Methinks he's trying to tell me something.  Wonder what it could be? 


Had a really nice weekend, thanks for asking!  Friday night, the little man and his Daddy camped out in the back yard.  Yeah, they really roughed it out there in the wilderness.....DH had to have his fan and  they slept on a queen-sized inflatable mattress. 
Me?  I wasn't invited.  Boys only. 

Saturday morning, we had breakfast and then had to hurry over to the soccer field for little man's last soccer game of the season.  So much fun watching the kids run and run and run.  I'm jealous of all that energy!  All in all, I think soccer was a good experience for Ben - he really seemed to enjoy the game and certainly enjoyed all the running.  It's been so sweet to watch him out on the field - he kept a perpetual smile on his face, and would cheer his friends when they'd make a goal.  Then, to see him run with his hands in the air, cheering after he'd made a goal was just priceless. 

(oh, the installers just got here - it's 8:58 am)     (grr)

A few errands then back home for the day.  Around lunchtime, we were overtaken by the sleepies while sitting on the back porch listening to the birds and enjoying the breeze.  Being the rednecks that we are, we pulled the inflatable mattress (from the aforementioned tent) onto the back porch,  and that's where my napping buddy and me had our Saturday afternoon nap.

Saturday night, I had a date with my hubby while little man had a date with his girlfriend(s)
B, C and of course, Nonny.  We are so thankful to that wonderful family for welcoming little man (and us!) into their family.  They overlook the fact that he's a wild child and laugh at his antics just like real grandparents/aunts would!  :)

Sunday morning:  church, then lunch.  I got to take another nap - not on the porch this time, though - and no napping buddy.  I had to force myself, but I did it!
After supper, we had a really nice thundershower come through the area.  There's few things we like more, so we went outside to enjoy it.  Little man kept trying to stick his hand/head out to get them wet, so I told him just take your clothes off and then you can stand under the run-off from the roof.   He looked at me like, really?  I said sure, go ahead.  (redneck, yes)
So he did.  Crazy kid.  It was cold!   After he'd been playing in it for a little while, I asked him if he wanted to 'take a shower', when he said yes, I went in to get his shampoo/body wash.  So, to cap off the weekend, my little Harris County-redneck-son took a 'shower' on the back porch - in the rain.   Are we classy or what?  He said he was going to tell his Kindergarten teacher today that he'd taken a shower in the rain.   Great. 
Nice to meet ya, we're the Clampetts.

So, thats a recap of our weekend.  How'd you show your redneck roots this weekend?

Welcome! (wipe your feet)

Ok!  I think it's presentable now.  Come on in. 
Whatcha think? 
Do ya like?  Do ya?  Hmm??

Smells clean.
No leaks.
Really like the fresh flowers.

Yeah, I think we're good for a little while.

Welcome!

backyard blessings

We made our first fire in the firepit the other night.  I'd bought hotdogs and marshmallows so we could enjoy some nice, charred food.  I hear it's good for digestion.

We sat around the fire with our weenies in the fire wire-coat-hanger-impaled-supper and dessert (not at the same time, that's just gross) and talked about life and anything else that came to our minds.  The first songs from the frogs down at the creek started just after dark.  We made little man hush (not an easy task) so he could hear them; that little city boy has so much to learn about living in the country!   I asked him - "what do you think they're saying, bud?"
 
His answer?

 "they're saying thank you, God".


Yep, bud.  I think they are.  I really think they are.

Home

The movers came on Wednesday to start packing us up for another move. We've been through this many times in our family history, but mostly BB*. This will be little man's 2nd move.

For anybody 'just visitin' my little corner of the blog world (hey y'all! welcome!!) a little
back-story.   We moved from our home of 10 years up to Atlanta about 2 years ago. When we made the move, we thought it would be for the last time. Funny how we forgot to take into account that we aren't in control of our futures. So, we put our house on the market and headed back 'home'.

Home to our little family is just 2 hours south of Atlanta. This is where we have friends that we've had for 10 years. Our church home is here.  Little man has "grandparents" here: folks who love him as much as his real grandparents do. My special group of ladies that I love more than chocolate, are here.  It is home. 
 
But, you know? Home is wherever our family is. 
Right now, we're living in an extended stay hotel. It's not bad, really. It has a little kitchen, (fun to try to see what I can cook for my family with one skillet, one small boiler and one medium boiler - oh, and no baking pans) a separate bedroom, and a living room.
We're doing ok here. Really.

Little man started his new school last week. He's, so far, enjoying it. On the way to school this morning, he asked me when we could go visit his old school in Marietta.  Y'know, that's the first time he's even brought it up since we left? He's been so excited about his new school, that I guess he just sort of forgot. I told him it'd be hard to go visit, but we could certainly send his class a postcard from here. Surely to goodness we'll be able to find a postcard somewhere, right??

So, we await the closing date for our home up there, and soon afterward, here. I'm ready to get back to normal. It's all a bit surreal, to be honest. My brain has had a hard time deciphering things - I forget where we are, who 'belongs' where, etc. But, I'll get it. I'll figure everything out, eventually.

We made the walk up the aisle yesterday to re-join our old church. (Oh yeah - the invitation song? "Lord, I'm Coming Home"). We're so glad to be back, but sad that the part of our lives 'up North' is over. We made wonderful friends in the short time we were there. We'll miss everyone at our church - especially our Sunday school friends, choir. My buddies at work - through all the hell we went through, one constant: our friendships. I'll miss you guys so much.

To repeat though - home is wherever our family is. Our family is whole; together and happy. Right now, we're enjoying a little vacation of sorts. It'll make getting into our new home that much sweeter. Right now, home is right here. And we're fine.

This one, I can't explain......

Some conversations are deeper than others, some not so memorable and some may be completely silly. You really never know what you're going to get when you talk to a 5 year old boy. Yesterday afternoon, the conversation the sweetest hubby and son had made my jaw drop to the floor. A little background first.



I'd left early for children's choir, leaving the two of them here to come over later. Before I left, I helped Ben get his clothes back on for church as he was in his usual state of dress: underwear and a smile. As I was heading to his room, I heard the sweet sound of a toy that, now that I think about it, I have no idea how to describe. It's one of those little plush, pull-type toys - this one happens to be a yellow kitty - with a hanger for the doorknob that plays a little lullaby when you pull it's tail... am I making any sense? Why can't I figure out what to call the blasted thing?? Anyway....we've had that little toy since Ben was a baby and I haven't seen it in probably a year or more - since we moved, I guess. So, when I walked into his room and heard the tinkling sound of a lullaby, I wondered what was up. Ben was standing in his room, hugging and cuddling the kitty, saying he wanted to take it to church with him. I told him no, he couldn't take it to church, but he could take it in the car with him if he wanted to. That seemed to appease him, so I helped him get dressed and went with him down the stairs, where I said my byes and left.

The rest of the story is recounted from what Greg told me. Ben was still hugging and cuddling the kitty as he sat on the couch to watch tv. At some point, he wound up sitting next to his daddy. Greg hugged him and asked him the age old question, "do you know how much I love you?" To which Ben answered, "more than God". His daddy explained to him that "No, God loves you even more than I or Mommy does".

Well, then Ben started telling his daddy a story. He said that when he was a baby, in heaven, that he was in a room with a bunch of other babies, and that God was there. He said that all the babies were soon gone - leaving him alone with God. He said that God stayed with him, played with him, and talked to him. But, then on a Thursday - God told him that in 3 days he'd come home to us.

Later, after we'd returned home from church, we three were standing in the kitchen. Greg asked Ben to tell me what they'd talked about earlier. Ben then proceeded to tell everything he'd told his daddy. I asked him what does God look like? He told me, " he has a beard, and white hair. And he wears a blue dress. And he's barefooted".

The description of God - I don't know if it's correct or not - have to wait and see.

The day of the week was wrong. But sometimes even now, he gets his days mixed up - so how much more so might he have gotten it wrong when he was still just a wish and a prayer in our hearts - but so well known by God!

The 3 days? Exactly spot on.

3 days was when he came into our home, our family, our hearts. 3 days old.

Thank you God for watching over him until you sent him home to be with us. And thank you God for watching over him now.

honesty lessons, bedtime talks and memories

Last night, after the ordeal which is 'getting ready for bedtime', was over; we three snuggled in Ben's bed quietly talking. We'd had a tough moment or two earlier due to an unfortunate choice one little boy decided to make: to bald-face lie to his Daddy. He thought he'd be able to get away with something by lying. Not a good choice at all.
So, we're snuggled and talking afterward when I ask Ben if he would like for me to come eat lunch with him tomorrow at school. He said, " yes" then, "Daddy, can you come too?"

Well, because Daddy has been out of town for a couple of days, he's a little backed-up at work; so, even though he would love to, he explained he wouldn't be able to come. But, maybe next week he would. Now, a little background here. A few months ago, when Ben was in the summer program at his preK, one of the field trips that his class took was to the Georgia
Aquarium. (I thought I'd written about it, but I looked back over my old posts and couldn't find it - so, you'll just have to go along with me here)

I really, really, really wanted to be able to go with him, but I told him there was no way I could because I was scheduled to work that day. With the absolutely fabulous way things have been at work, I figured there was no way I'd be able to get off on such late notice. Oh, and my thoughts that maybe I would just call out sick so I could go didn't really fit in with the 'raising an honest child" plan that we're working on; so, off to work I go. I just quietly fumed and felt sorry for myself. As I tend to do.
Well, I moped about at work, making sure that everybody saw just how miserable I was - yeah, I was a joy to behold. Finally, after telling my story to a couple of my friends and getting the sympathy I so badly wanted; one of them told me to get up off my butt and go ask if I could leave - explaining why I wanted to so badly.

Hm. Well. Ok, so I did. I came clean. I explained all the above and y'know what? I got to go! I called his teacher and asked if it was too late to go, and nope, they were just about to board the bus. So, I gathered my stuff and walked out to go meet my baby at the Aquarium. I'd told his teacher not to tell Ben I was coming, as I wanted to surprise him. And I did. And he was absolutely thrilled. And so was I.

Now, back to the story at hand. So, he'd asked his Daddy if he could come to eat too, remember? Ok, so we're back on track. Well, when Daddy explained that he couldn't - Ben said, 'you could just tell your friends at work that you want to come - like Mommy did when we went to the Aquarium'.

He remembered! He remembered that I'd told him how I'd asked if I could leave and they let me! My heart. Oh, my heart. The little things that make such a big impression.....I'm so thankful I was able to go that day and it meant so much to him.

So, now, I'm going to get up off my butt and get cleaned up - I have a lunch date with my little boy. Because it's the little things that mean so much.

lunch date

Just had a pb&j with the little man.

I finished mine in record-time...only coffee for breakfast, so I was starving.

Little man wanted cheese puffs with his. ewww.

He ate his in typical little-boy fashion - straight down the middle of the sandwich. So when he brought me his paper plate telling me he was finished, I glanced at his face and on both sides of his mouth right up to his cheeks, was peanut butter. Kinda like a peanut butter smiley face.
When I told him he had peanut butter all over his face, he used the God-given 'napkin' attached at his shoulders - his arm. Now, he has peanut butter on his face, his ear, and his forearm.

Oh, and the cheese puffs died a horrible, peanut butter asphyxiation-death.....inside his sandwich.

R.I.P. cheese puffs.

SHOES!

Last weekend we celebrated little man's 5th birthday at a local inflatables play place with 14 or so of his bestest buds. Then, family gathered at our house to un-wrap gifts and ooh and ahh. A 5 year old boy gets lots of toys for his birthday! I don't ever remember getting that much stuff - actually, I don't ever remember getting a birthday party, but that's another post for another day. Things were different 'back then', I guess. Hmm. Anyway.

So, we're unwrapping presents; some really neat toys, clothes (thanks MawMaw and Nanny!), more toys....and then - he picks up a wrapped shoebox. Paper ripped off - he pulls out a sneaker and says, "Hey! A SHOE!!!" Then, as everyone was properly impressed by the gift; he leans down to the box, jumps up quickly and shouts something to the effect of, "Cool! ANOTHER ONE!!!!"

Hee hee. Blesshisheart.

Sheriff Ben

There's a new sheriff in town. He's wearing a t-shirt and tighty-whiteys and a smile.

And a badge.


And he's dancing in his t-shirt and tighty-whiteys and smile and badge.


And he's terribly, terribly cute.

Brownies ARE good for you, aren't they?

"mommy, can we make the brownies?"

"hey, mom....I thought you said we could make the brownies tonight..."

"after my nap, can we make the brownies?"

Ok. So there's been a box of brownies in the cupboard driving my son nuts. True, I've promised to 'help' him make them for two or three days now....but something always comes up. Like bedtime last night. Oh, yeah. It was obviously not a good enough reason for him, but it was way too late to make brownies. So, I promised him we would make them today.

Approximately 15 minutes ago, I asked him if he wanted to go make the brownies now. Yippee! Yay!! Brownies!!! Off to the kitchen we go. Maybe 30 seconds after we get the mix, eggs, water, and oil in the bowl - he's uninterested. Off he goes to watch Power Rangers but not before yelling over his shoulder "I want to lick the bowl!!"

Batter in the pan, pan goes in the oven and I've stolen a couple of licks of the spoon before I call him in (what? yeah, like you don't do it too...) the kitchen. He comes running in smiling, saying: "lick the bowl, lick the bowl!"

I've already scraped the sides of the bowl down to make it easier for him; hand him the spoon and he says: "I don't want it. I don't want to eat junk food".

Whaaaaa?

Remembering....

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.

sweet boy

Bedtime last night - another 30-45 minutes worth of getting my very active and loud boy in the bed and on the way to sleep - he makes me melt.

Ok. Lemme back up a little here. We've been trying to get little man in the bed earlier and also trying to get him to go to sleep by himself. Really, it's all our fault that he wants me/us to stay with him - that's what he's known for all of his 4.5 years. We all climb into bed, snuggle and cuddle for a little while until somebody falls asleep. Usually it's all of us. Anywho.
So, we've instituted the 'I'm gonna stay with you for 10 minutes,
then I'll leave and you sleep' plan. Yeah, right.

Well. Last night the 10 minutes were up and I started to leave. Lots of "noMommydon'tleave me!" I stood by my plan though....hmmph.

Kisses, kisses, good night sweetie. One more hug. Kisses.

Then, the bomb.

"No, Mommy don't go......Mommy, your kisses all go away when I'm by myself"

I think I did quite well, though. I only stayed for a few minutes more so I could cover my stinky boy with a hundred more kisses. That should hold him.......and me.

Power rangers are human too.

Yeah, so I'm a little behind in my Halloween story.....whatevah.

This is (was) little man's first time trick-or-treating; before moving to the 'big city' we lived a little ways out of town, up a long-dark driveway in the woods. No one wanted to walk up that driveway for a treat, I'm tellin' ya. So, we never actually went out trick-or-treating, either. We didn't live in a subdivision, and the nearest neighbors had an even longer dark driveway, so we would celebrate at the church fall festival.
Everybody was happy.

Fast forward to Halloween 2008. We have moved to the Halloween Capital of the South. Our subdivision has the award for the most enthusiastic halloweeny spirit. Oh my goodness, these people go all out. It was exactly a year ago that we were shopping around for a new place to live and as such, we'd made several 'covert' missions up here to get the feel of the area, see what was available, etc. One trip was to this subdivision.

It was probably the week or so before the big day and I couldn't believe what I saw. Almost every house was decorated....not just a pumpkin here, a pumpkin there.....but decorated to the nines! I've never seen anything like it.
I told the sweetest hubby that I couldn't wait to see what they do for Christmas! (oh, btw. Found out that evidently Christmas doesn't awaken the enthusiastic decorating bug that halloween does here in the burbs o' hotlanta.)

Anywho....back to the story. Oh wait. Hold on... one more thing about this peachy city.
Atlanta has a traffic problem. Seriously. You didn't know?
Well, picture this. Add the pressure of half a million people (heck, I don't know, seemed like a good round number.....I just live here.) wanting to get home 'early' for their little gouls, and you got yerself a hot mess. Just wanted to throw that one in there for your pleasure.
You're welcome.

So, we get home and have maybe 15 minutes to get ready before we have to go to the obligatory pre-trick-or-treat party at the end of the cul-de-sac. Complete with pizza and costumes. BYOB, of course. But that's another post for another time.........

SH and me notice a little bit of an 'attitude' coming from the little-man-who-would-be-the-red-power-ranger. Not a problem yet, just the first inkling that there might be a wee problem ahead.
Since I've posted before about these 'Feelings of Not Belonging' nonsense; I'm not going to go into that too much here. But as for me, I was pretty much ready to leave after finishing my piece of pizza. Little man had eaten half a piece of pizza and two brownies and was having a great time. He doesn't let something like not knowing anybody very well stop him from enjoying himself. He just jumps right in and joins the fun. Man, I wish I could do that. When does self-consciousness take over??? Somewhere around teenage years, I imagine.

Cue the big kid dressed as a ghost/zombie. I saw little man running through the cul-de-sac where we were. The big kid was behind him, chasing him; LM had a smile on his face, so I thought nothing of it. Then, on the next go around, LM wasn't laughing anymore - the laughing face was a little frantic now. Hubby stepped out of the edge of the crowd; Ben saw him and ran to him crying. He was scared.
Little man isn't one to just cry at the drop of a hat, he's really a pretty tough little guy, but like I said earlier, he wasn't his usual cheerful self. Got him all straightened up and his daddy took him over to where the other kids were and they talked to the ghost/zombie. He apologized, saying he had no idea that Ben was scared, they were just playing and that he never meant to scare him. Zombie offered his hand. Shake. Problem solved.

Next meltdown came when a little ghoul and a red power ranger ran smack into each other at a full gallop, resulting in both of them landing hard on the concrete. Tried the old, "aw, shake it off, buddy" but that didn't work. Had to hold my little ranger while he cried big, big tears and the whole gathering ogled the whiny new kid on the block. Ok, so maybe they didn't ogle. Maybe they didn't even notice. This is my story, I can say what I want. They ogled.

Last meltdown of the evening came when we were headed home to get ready for the highlight of the evening: trick-or-treating!!! Woo hoo! Ah. Not so much.

Walking home LM announced that he didn't want to go trick-or-treating. I can't even begin to relate the entire conversation - just sufice it to say that you can't rationalize with a 4-year old power ranger. In the house now and the tears are flowing freely. Daddy sends LM to his room and tells him when he's finished crying, he can come down and they'd go out to get some candy.

Just a few minutes pass. The tears are still there, but he's stopped crying. He's ready to go!
So, out the door they go; First Time Trick-or-Treating! He practices by turning around, ringing our doorbell and shouting, "Trick-or-Treat!!!!!!" with a big smile on his face.

I'm left to hand out candy here at home. Between trips to the door, I spy the days report sheet from LM's preschool teacher. So, I pick it up to read about my little guys day:

• Ate all his lunch. That's good.
• Painted pumpkins and decorated them to look like bats. That's original!

What's that?

• Nap time.

Hmmm. Well, usually it says how long he slept...um...nope, not today.
What's that, no nap today?

• Halloween party. Instead!??!!?

Well, I guess that answers that. Even power rangers need a nap. Especially 4 year old power rangers.



Now, for the rest of the story.......
Daddy and LM come home after hitting around 12 houses, maybe. Little man is pooped! The costume comes off and he sits down with me in the comfy chair to snuggle a little. With his little head resting on my shoulder, he asked me if I'd take his socks off for him. I say, sure sweetie. Socks off now, I look down to kiss his forehead and he's out like a light. Two seconds flat. Couldn't have been any more than that.
Power rangers sure are cute when they fall asleep snuggled up next to their mommy.

Sushi, anyone?**

Ugh. Had a most enjoyable morning. Thanks for asking. Got up at 5am to get ready for work as usual on this rainy Friday morning, but soon after the first sip of (heaven sent) coffee, I - excuse the tmi here - had to go potty. Ah, yeah.

So 30 minutes later, I decide I should call into work to let them know that I might just possibly be a wee bit late. Made my way upstairs to get ready and woo hoo, here we go again. 15 minutes later I'm back on the phone waving the white flag. Nope, this gal ain't gonna make it in today.

Go straight for the medicine cabinet. Um.....Immodium? Anyone, anyone?

There it is. When did these things become horse-pills? Anyway, pop a couple and go back to the bedroom to plant myself back in the bed. Since the daddy has been out of town, I've had a visitor in my bed. An early riser, no less. Guess who's awake and watching 'Wow Wow Wubbzy'. Loverly.

Smile......."I'm hungry, mommy". gag

"Ok, sweetie, what do you want for breakfast?" gag/bleckh


"I want waffles without the chocolate* and chocolate". ugh

Smile......."Mommy, why don't you fix you somefing and me somefing and bring it up on a tray? gag

"Oh, sweetie, mommy feels like she'll throw up or crap her pants if she puts anything remotely like food in her mouth, but thanks."
Well, ok, that's what I thought in my head. What I really said was, "Mommy's not hungry right now, sweetie, but I'll fix your waffles and chocolate and bring it up for you." I'm sweet like that.

So, down the stairs again. My guts are having a great time. I've never had an alien in my gut, but I think this morning I can relate. Something is going on down there, and it ain't good.

Back up the stairs with little Lord Fauntleroy's breakfast tray, climb back into bed and pray he doesn't want another waffle. Soon, breakfast is finished and little man says the most wonderful words in the whole wide world......"mommy, I'm still sleepy." Ahhhh. I love this kid.
Lights off, tv off, covers up and it's back to sleep for both of us.

*I buy an assortment of frozen waffles for quick breakfasts for little man. One of the most recent purchases was a waffle that's half chocolate, half vanilla. Disgusting. But he eats it and it's supposedly 'fortified'. Whatever. So, when he asked me for a waffle without the chocolate, he means a plain waffle. The second chocolate is chocolate milk, of course. What else would you drink with a waffle and syrup but chocolate milk? gaaaaaagg

**Oh, forgot to explain the sushi, anyone? title. Yesterday evening I took my visiting in-laws to a local sushi place. Nope, never been there before, but everyone that is anyone says it's the best in town. Blah, blah, blah. Not sure if that's what cause my GI distress or not, but I'd be willing to bet it had a hand in it..........

One time, at band camp....

Beautiful day today. Nice and breezy, a little overcast, cool. Had the screen door and windows open to enjoy it all. So nice.

Have I mentioned we live within spittin' distance to a high school? No? Well, we do.

Oh, did I mention we live within spittin' distance to a high school with a marching band? No? Well, we do.

And, did I mention we live within spittin' distance to a high school with a marching band that practices every stinkin' day? All. Day. Long.

Now, I really, really love marching bands - not as much as my sweet seester, but hey, that's a given: she's a band nerd - but I do enjoy watching them march and listening to them play their music. But, please.

Oh, we can't see the field; there's houses and a major roadway and lots of trees betwixt our house and the school....but, by gum (!) we can certainly hear every note played. To top it off, the band director has a microphone that blasts his every verbal utterance over the amplifiers at the football field. Arggghhh.

So, today while we enjoyed the lovely weather, we also got to enjoy the band play basically the same thing over and over and over and over. All.Day.Long.
Not sure what they were doing wrong, but for some reason, the director made them play it repeatedly.
And we got to listen to it repeatedly. Oh, and btw, it sounded exactly the same every single time they played it. Every single time.
Joy.

Breakfast Plans

Time for bed.
Good night kisses and hugs given.
Snuggles and cuddles.
Lights out.
Covers up.

Stalling tactics begin.

"Mommy, in the mornin' after sleepy-time, do you fink you can make me some eggs and toast for breffast?"

Sure baby, I'll make you whatever you want for breakfast. Now it's time to go to sleep. Shhh.

"Mommy, when you make my eggs and toast, do you fink you can call me and wake me up and tell me it's time for breffast?"

Um, yeah, sweetie. I can call you for breakfast. Do you mean just call you from downstairs and wake you up? note how his diabolical plan is working - mommy has already forgotten that she JUST said shh, and go to sleep....keep her talking......
So, you want me to let you sleep while I fix your breakfast and then call you to come eat? must clarify plans, God forbid that I get a step wrong in the morning

"yes, Mommy-sweet-roses." that's my new name, btw. He's evil, I tell you......evil!!!!!

Ok, baby. Mommy will fix breakfast and call you to come downstairs to eat. Now, go to sleep.
You're mommy's sweet angel....'night night.

"night Mommy-sweet-roses."

Fast-forward this morning. 7 am.
Child wakes up first. Starts wiggling, but very quiet. hmmm. Could mommy sweet roses crack open one eye before being caught? Nope. Not a chance.

*smile* Whisper: "mornin', mommy", "can we get up now?"

Mm hm. You still want me to fix you breakfast and call you, since you're already awake and all?

"um, yeah, but, can you fix my eggs and toast and put it on a tray and bring it up here? you can fix me some chocolate and sit with me and we can watch my shows".
"does that sound like a good idea?"

Sounds like an excellent idea. So that's exactly what I did.
He's evil, and he has me brainwashed.

I guess we're here to stay.

I've had the pleasure to have a few 'deep' conversations with my little man in the car - either on the way to school, or on the way home from school regarding our recent move to the big city.
I'll admit, I had a few problems with this move - mainly the packing up of all our worldly possessions from a house we loved, leaving a town we'd come to consider home, leaving the most loving church 'family', jobs, friends, neighbors, etc. So, yes, needless to say, I had a tough time of it for a little while. I'm still working through it, day by day, but things are a bit better. (better living through chemicals? hmm, Tom?)
Well, the capper for me was the feelings I had regarding how little man would take all these changes. I had horrible anxiety about how he would be able to cope in a new school, with new teachers, new routine, new friends, new everything. I've said it mannnny times before that he's much better at new things than I am - he does tend to leap forward with both feet, never looking back; but I know how much he loved being at his 'old school', his old church, his old house - everything. So, with trepidation, we went forward, hoping for the best.
Back to the conversations I referred to above. Several went - not so well. Mostly a little boy who didn't understand why he couldn't go back to Ms. Joy's class; where his friends were. A little boy who didn't understand why we wouldn't be going back to our old house, our old church, our old routine. My heart ached for him when he'd say he wanted to go back, because some of the times, during the conversations in the car, I felt the same way. But, we felt that this was what God had planned for us, so like it or not (at times, still) we were in it for the long haul.
Fast forward to this morning. Sweetest hubby is out of town for the week, so it's just me and little man. We were running late, (as usual) and I was trying my best to make it through the neighborhood without running over any tennis-mom or dog-walking dad on my way to his school and my work, when from the back seat came the sweetest voice saying something like, "Mom, I like this neighborhood."
"I like these houses, they're pretty."
And, "I like my school."

Floored.

First thing: when did he start calling me Mom? I'm still Mommy. I think. Anyway.
Second thing: Huh? When did he make this discovery? Was it like Bam! Everything is ok? Or, did it creep up on him, little by little?

Couldn't get any more information out of the little guy, he clammed up after the last comment. I guess I'll have to wait till the next car ride conversation. Maybe he can tell me how I can come to the same conclusions.