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Nov
7
My sons usually ride the bus home from school. Today my oldest son informed me that he needs to bring his bass clarinet home for the band competition tomorrow, and it’s pretty hard to haul it on the bus. So I went to pick him up.
School lets out at about 2:13pm. I was late, of course, but in the car line by 2:15. At 2:16 my phone rings, and it’s my son. He was calling to tell me that his instrument broke, so I do not need to pick him up. Remember, I am already in the car line, at the school, by then.
At what age, in which grade, do they teach common sense? He really spaced out that it was so late I’d already be at the school. Just another indication that he is his mama’s son, through and through. That kind of thing drives my meticulous, perfectionist husband absolutely crazy, but I just laugh.
Bloggy Giveaways Carnival winner!
Random Interger Generator:
Here are your random numbers:
741
Congratulations to Molly, you’re the winner of the $50 Amazon gift card. Look for an email from me.
On the subject of giveaways, I’d like to do several giveaways during November, to gear up for the holidays. I know I love getting Amazon gift cards, or any gift card, but what do you like to win? What are the favorite things to enter for? Let me know in the comments, I’ve got a few giveaways planned but I’d love to have a variety of prizes.
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Oct
28
My 13 year old went to a youth group party last Saturday. A hayride and bonfire party. My husband and I both took him, because we had some errands to run after we dropped him off. He was so nervous about all of his friends actually seeing him in the same car with his parents. Can you imagine the humiliation?
He actually asked if we could drop him off at the driveway. Normally we would, but this house had a long gravel driveway, about 1/4 of a mile! So no, we insisted on driving him all the way up to the house. I could tell he was ready to jump out of the moving car, anything to avoid being seen with us.
There were quite a few kids already there, and they were in groups, girls with girls and boys with boys. A group of girls was standing close to where we dropped him off, talking and laughing. Tanner got out and started walking up towards his friends, and I heard something that made my heart stop.
One of the girls said, “Oh here comes Tanner”. Now, that might not sound bad, but she said it and giggled. In a very giggly, girly way. The way you do when you like a boy, or think he’s cute (I know cute is probably not a word they use these days, but I’m out of touch with the correct terminology). Many, many years ago, I was a teenage girl, and I remember what the giggle means.
What happened to girls thinking boys were gross, and boys thinking girls had cooties? When did we go from that to giggles? Oh help me, I am so not ready for this new frontier. Not at all.
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Oct
20
My kids are on fall break. For some reason, this is the signal for my body to break down and get sick. I have so many fond memories of lying on the couch, miserable, while my kids were on fall break. Seasonal allergies wait all year, then bombard me right about now.
As soon as fall break is over, and they’re back in school and I’m back to work, I’ll be well. I guess I’m allergic to having my kids on an extended break from school.
My oldest spent the night with a friend, so Nolan and I were on our own. I prefer to lie on the couch and moan when I feel like this, but Nolan didn’t approve of that plan. So, we did a little pumpkin carving.
I know it’s hard to tell in the bright sun, but that’s a pretty fine looking skull and crossbones. We’ve been carving pumpkins using those store bought kits for years. This time Nolan did it all himself. I sat and moaned supervised, but he is the pumpkin carving master.
After the pumpkin carving, I got a call that Nolan had won something, and we could come and pick it up. My first thought was, woohoo a flat screen TV! But that wasn’t it. He was just as happy with what he won, though.
In case you’re thinking this is an ordinary Sugar Daddy, let me show you the real reason why my son was soooo happy with his prize.
That’s right, it was super mega size Sugar Daddy. A full pound of artery hardening, tooth decaying goodness. You would have thought he won the lottery, he was that happy. He was a little concerned that there might not be enough to share with his brother - seriously. This is one candy loving boy.
So even though I was a sick, whiny baby, we had a good day. And eventually my medication will kick in and I’ll be back to normal. Or I could just eat some of that monster size candy bar, and collapse in a sugar coma. Decisions, decisions.
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Oct
17
I’ve posted pictures of my dog on our swing set before. The sad thing about that is that he is the only one who goes up in that swing set anymore. It’s his favorite place to sleep.
My father in law gave us that when we first moved here. He picked it out and brought it here, then put it together for us. It was such a labor of love from him, and my sons absolutely loved it. They were 2 and 4 at the time. They spent hours out there playing, and when they got a little older they built elaborate forts with pillow and blankets out there. On long summer days we would climb up there and have picnics outside. They’d bring their toys and play out there all day. And then when we got our dog and he loved to get up there too, it was definitely the favorite place to play.
There was also the time when my oldest came in the house and informed us that he had strung his brother to the swing set by his feet, with a rope. We jumped up and saw Nolan hanging there, upside down, laughing, while we rushed out to untie him. Good times.
My kids haven’t played up there or used the swing set for a long time. I can’t remember the last time. My husband works with someone who has small children, they’ve asked about buying our swing set. I think we’re going to sell it, so at least someones children can enjoy it. But it’s very sad.
The swing set phase of my life is over. In fact, a huge phase of my life is over. Going to parks, the zoo, water sprinkler parks, play museums for small children, all gone. I loved those things, loved spending hours at the park or zoo. Such a sweet time.
Life is still sweet, it’s just different. And part of me will probably always miss the swing set, and the park. I’ll probably never think that the Wii is as much fun as climbing up there and having a picnic. My kids don’t agree, of course. But they will, one day, when my husband buys a swing set for our grandchildren.
Which will not be for a very, very long time. Just pointing that out.
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Oct
7
I had Parent/Teacher conferences today for my 5th grader. Nolan is many, many things. He’s helpful, he’s a quick learner, he’s opinionated, he’s a cutie. But it never fails to surprise me when his teachers use a different word to describe him.
They say he is quiet. Quiet. Hmm, I’m not familiar with that word. As the mom of 2 boys, I rarely find myself thinking, it’s so quiet around here. No, quiet is not something I get alot of.
And Nolan is that child who will follow you around, talking constantly, completely unconcerned with whatever you’re trying to accomplish, because what he needs to say Must Be Said. And heaven forbid you tell him No to something he wants to do. Because he will not quit asking you why until you are cowering in the corner, begging for mercy and telling him that he can do whatever he wants if he’ll just quit talking about it! The boy has won every debate he’s started. We are all afraid of him, his cuteness is very deceiving.
So when the teachers say he is quiet, I’ve learned to bite my tongue and not blurt out “Are you sure you’re talking about my Nolan? Possibly there’s another Nolan who is quiet?” I just smile and nod, like I actually know this quiet boy they’re talking about.
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Oct
2
I’ve mentioned before that my oldest son is very much like me. It’s really spooky sometimes, how similar we are. So when I tell a story about him, I could just as easily be telling a story about myself.
Tanner helped me unload groceries last week. I asked him to put the bananas away, they always go in the bowl on the table. So they’ll be eaten quickly. This is not anything new, the bananas are always kept in the same place.
I forgot about the bananas, until we got home from our little trip and my husband, who is about a foot taller than me, noticed them. On top of the refrigerator. Let me repeat that: on top of the refrigerator. I have never in my life put bananas, or any food, on top of the refrigerator. I have no idea what that child was thinking. Oh wait, yes I do. He was not thinking at all. He can’t even tell me why he did that.
Tanner and my husband were finished with their weekly mowing the other day and stopped by Quik Trip for a drink. Mike sent Tanner in, and told him to get a 44 oz drink so they could share. It took longer than Mike thought it should, but finally here came Tanner. With a 32 oz drink.
Mike looked at him funny, and asked why he’d gotten the smaller size. Tanner said “What? This is 44 ounces, like you said.” Mike showed him right on the cup where it said 32 ounces. Tanner sighed and said “So that’s why the red lid wouldn’t fit. I tried forever to make it fit.”
My husband laughed all the way home. Poor kid. We’ll be telling that story for a long time.
Today I picked Tanner up from school. Our mornings are pretty hectic so it’s usually a quick round of questions, ie Did you eat, brush teeth, get everything you need and then he’s out the door to catch the bus. I don’t get to spend time with him before school, it’s too hectic. So I picked him up and right away noticed something different.
I told him he smelled great. Which is a little unusual anyway with boys, when they actually smell good, but this was very noticeable. And slightly odd. I asked if he was wearing some new kind of deodorant.
He said no, that when he put his shirt on this morning, after his shower, he accidentally knocked over the reed diffuser I have in their bathroom. The heavily scented oil spilled everywhere, all over his shirt. So he reeked of White Cotton scent. Which I love, but not necessarily on a person. It was a little, well, fruity for a boy. But instead of finding a new shirt, which would have meant walking about 2 feet to his room, he just wore the smelly one. Oh son.
We both laughed at that. He did say that no one at school commented on his new perfume, thank goodness. But maybe it wasn’t so noticeable, unlike when I was in the closed up car right next to him. Extremely noticeable, even 7 hours after the spill. I guess now we at least know those reed diffuser scents are long lasting.
I don’t want anyone to think I’m picking on my son. He has a great sense of humor, and he’s fine with me sharing these little quirky things. And just to make it fair, here’s one about me.
We were all packed and ready to go out of town Friday. The kids had been ready for hours, I was the slow poke. Finally I had loaded everything and closed up the house, we were in the car and ready to go.
And… I couldn’t find my keys. I had just had them, seconds ago, in the car. So they couldn’t be far. We searched the little junk basket I have in the car, no keys. Searched on the ground by the car, no keys. I went back into the house, even though I was certain I had last seen them in the car. No keys in the house.
By then I was sweating, the kids were grumbling and annoyed. See, I have a habit of losing my keys, it happens alot. The boys have no patience for it anymore. I heard Tanner yell, Have you checked your pockets? I snapped back, Of course they’re not in my pockets, I just had them out.
Then I checked my pockets. Ta da, keys! I did ask the boys to keep that little incident between me and them, no need to tell their dad.
My son and I are both a little spacey, a little dorky. I personally think a little dorkiness makes life interesting. You just never know what’s going to happen. Luckily we can laugh at ourselves.
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Sep
30
I read a great post on Blogher about teaching kids financial responsibility, by Shannon from Rocks in my Dryer. I agree with everything she said, it is really hard these days to raise kids while surrounded by a constant barrage of media telling them what they have to wear, own, or be. And it all costs money.
We started teaching our boys about money when they were very young, but it wasn’t because of any great plan. It was out of necessity. We were young, I was trying to work part time and we knew we didn’t have any extra money to buy them things. So when I had to go to Walmart, we simply avoided the toy aisle. For years my kids didn’t even know there was such a thing. By avoiding the temptation, I never had to say no or deal with the inevitable meltdown.
That worked great when my kids were small, just avoid it completely. But it’s much harder now that they are older. They’ve known for awhile now that they just do not have as much stuff as other kids they know. I’ve never wanted them to have TV’s in their bedrooms, or electronic games. So we just didn’t do it. Were they happy about that? No, but I think since we started out that way, by not buying them stuff except for birthdays and Christmas, they were more accepting.
Have they thrown fits for things, of course. Have they cried that we are the meanest parents ever? Oh yes. For the most part, we haven’t budged. I really don’t believe that kids need every new gadget the second it’s in the store. Wait for it, earn it. Usually by the time they’ve earned the money for the latest new thing, they realize they don’t really want it.
Now that they are bigger, they have jobs. My husband takes them out and they mow lawns for several elderly people in our neighborhood. My husband is doing this for them, to teach them about working, about keeping your commitments even when you’d rather not, to teach them about money. They only have 3 yards, and my husband helps, but it’s still work. Work that pays well. They are required to save a portion, and the rest they can spend.
Not surprisingly, the first time they got paid they blew it all at the dollar store. They ate their candy and played with the little plastic stuff their hard earned money got them. Then I asked them, was that candy and stuff worth the 2 hours of work it took to get it? I explained that if they had saved that money, even for just one more week, they could’ve earned enough to get something really cool.
They’ve learned well. This past summer was the 2nd summer they’ve done this. The first summer, they combined their money and bought a Wii. Because, you guessed it, we wouldn’t. They not only love that Wii, but they are so proud of the fact that they worked for it. I’m proud of them too.
I’ve also used their mowing to explain some basic differences in jobs. They may not love mowing yards, but they can work 2 hours and earn more than the kid flipping burgers will earn all day. They may not always want to spend their Saturday morning working, but they are able to buy games for their Wii that we wouldn’t buy for them. This summer they used part of their earnings to buy iPods, again something we wouldn’t buy.
I won’t name any names, to protect the innocent, but one of our sons is a saver. He is saving for a car, even though it will be years before we’re talking about cars. He diligently takes his earnings to the bank. He spends very little of it, and gives each purchase much thought.
Then we have another son who is not so much a saver, but more of a spender. He would like to only mow yards when he has a specific want, something he wants to buy and needs money for. Otherwise, he’d be glad to let his brother do it all. This is where “learning to keep your commitments” comes into play. He also has much less saved than his brother. But he has now decided that he does have something in mind that he wants, something expensive, so now he wants to get busy. Now that mowing season is almost over. We explained, this is the purpose of saving, so you have it when you “need” it. Not that he needs it, but he thinks he does. He will have to wait for it.
That son often grumbles and groans about mowing, even though he’s told me that it’s not hard. But whenever either of them tells their friends about their little mowing gig, their friends are jealous. It’s time consuming, and many men don’t have the time or the desire to to do this. So I hope my sons will someday realize the gift they’ve been given. It’s just never too early to teach them to save, and to spend responsibly.
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Sep
23
We’ve started a new tradition in my house. Family Movie Night. We try to do it every Saturday if the boys don’t have some scout or sports activity.
It started kind of slowly, because I was picking the movies. Apparently teenager and preteen boys don’t really want to see academy award winning movies with great social justice themes. Whatever. So I let my husband pick, and movie night has been much more popular ever since.
My husband does need some guidance in the movie picking area though, so I am there to approve. Meaning, I check the ratings. I’m always surprised at movies my son says his friends have seen. I’m pretty conservative with what I let them watch. A little violence is ok, but some things are completely unacceptable.
My youngest son has figured out my ratings requirements. Since he is such a helper, he decided to check the ratings himself and pass that information along to me. So when we’re in the movie store, this is what the other customers hear:
Mom, this one looks good. Oh, nope, it has SEXUAL CONTENT.
Mom, what’s SEXUAL CONTENT mean anyway? How old do I have to be for that?
Here’s one, but it has PARTIAL NUDITY. Does that mean half naked?
Whoa! Here’s one with FULL NUDITY Mom!!! I know we can’t see that. Can we?
Yes, he’s very helpful to YELL that rating information to me across the store aisles. Much appreciated. And probably very helpful to the other shoppers. You can never have too much information. And then the other shoppers get to see me crumpled in a fit of giggles at the sound of my little guys voice saying SEXUAL CONTENT. I can’t help it.
I know, it’s hard to believe that just picking out a movie can be that much fun.
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Sep
18
My sons are 24 months apart. So right when we hit the terrible twos, here came baby. It was crazy, really crazy. We were young, trying to figure out what the heck we were doing and how we were going to make it all work, all the while trying to stay sane. The great thing is, we survived, and I even have fond memories of that time.
I remember being totally worn out, with a very active toddler who was not at all pleased to have someone else getting mommy’s attention. Someone who seemed to either be eating or crying all the time. And the baby was eating all the time, so there was very little sleeping going on. One of my husbands aunts came to visit, and she saw right away that I was on the edge of exhaustion. She very gently told me that as hard as it seemed right at that moment, as impossible as it seemed, it would pass by in a heartbeat, and soon I’d be able to laugh about it. And she was right. It passed quickly, I resumed sleeping, and that made a huge improvement in my sanity.
Through all the trials of infant, toddler, child, I tried to remember and hold onto her advice. Whatever stage we’re going through, it will pass. But despite going through all of it, and being able to look back and smile, sometimes even laugh, I have to say one thing.
13 is kicking my butt.
Give me a toddler and an infant anytime, I’ll take them. But 13 is hard, and while small children can be physically and mentally exhausting, teenagers will leave you emotionally spent every single day. Emotionally drained and knowing tomorrow most likely will not be better, not yet.
I took my son to his piano lesson today. He’s been taking lessons for years, at his request. But he’s been slacking off with practice, for a couple of months now. His teacher called me out today, and her first words to me were “I think we’re losing Tanner”. Now I know what she meant, she meant that he’s losing interest in piano. But because of what is on my heart and how we’re struggling with him, I took it with a much deeper meaning. I felt my eyes fill up with tears, which took her by surprise.
She talked a bit more, about how we should deal with this, and when he joined the conversation I had a full blown break down. I couldn’t hold back the tears. I’m not like that, it’s very hard for me to show emotion that way, so it surprised even me. I had no idea the tears were right there, right under the surface. I had no idea that I’ve been so worried about him, so afraid of losing him myself, that I would fall apart like that.
My son was taken aback too, very much so. He spoke softly and gently to me, asking if I was ok, patting my shoulder on the drive home. I got it together enough to talk to him about why I was crying. I told him that he has so many gifts, so many talents, yet he takes things that happen at school, mean things that other kids say, and makes them his reality, his truth. He believes the hateful words, he feels worthless and ugly. Because of that, he’s wasting his gifts, wasting his talents. I told him it makes me sad to see this happening, because I know him. I know he’s kind, and funny, and creative, and bright. I just wish he knew it.
I think he heard me, I think he was paying attention. I’ve learned enough to know that our talk isn’t going to make things better overnight. But I hope he took it to heart.
I’m trying desperately to hold onto those words I heard years ago, that this will pass. And that we’ll be ok. It’s way too early in this game for me to be able to laugh or smile or joke about this though. Because I’m pretty sure that 13 isn’t finished kicking my butt.
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Sep
16
I have a brother. We fought like cats and dogs. I kind of understand that, sisters fighting with their brothers. I had nothing in common with the little brat. (Just kidding mom!)
That’s a picture of my sons from years ago, when they were best buddies. Where did my sweet little guys go? I know deep down they do still like each other. When one is gone for any length of time, the other one misses his brother terribly, and is so happy to have him home. But when they’re together, it’s horrible. The constant bickering is one thing, that’s been going on for so long I’m almost used to it. But it’s taken on a new, ugly life of its own now that my oldest is in junior high. Cause that’s where you learn all the really great insults, and who better to use them on than your younger brother. Of course.
It’s infuriating, but also sad. My youngest son looks up to his older brother, and at least for right now, desperately wants his brother to like him, to think he’s cool. I’ve tried explaining to Nolan that, first of all, you can’t take anything his brother says seriously. He’s in the midst of major hormonal mood swings,and can’t be held accountable for anything that comes out of his mouth.
Ok, you know I don’t mean that, he is held accountable for the things he says. But it’s kind of funny when he’s having a teenage “moment”, where he hates us all, and he’ll suddenly look at all of us and say “I’m having a mood swing, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I didn’t mean that”. He gets frustrated too, not sure half the time why he’s even angry or annoyed with us. You just have to laugh sometimes.
I’ve tried to explain that to Nolan, that his brother does like him, does think he’s fun and cool, he just can’t/won’t/doesn’t act like it 99% of the time. There are rare, sweet moments when Tanner will tell me, Nolan is such a cool kid. Unfortunately, those comments don’ t happen when Nolan is actually around to hear it. So he feels left out, like he and his brother were walking together and now suddenly Tanner is on a completely different path. Which he is.
I could tell you that we’re very strict parents, with very strict rules about fighting. And really, that is true. It’s not allowed, not physical fighting and not hateful words. But they still fight. I’m not with them every second of the day, so they fight. I believe they need to learn to work it out themselves, but I also get very sad when I see my youngest sons eyes fill up with tears at the latest insult his brother has hurled at him. Especially when that insult involves the word “little”. When you want so much to be just like your big brother, there is no greater insult than to be called little, or babyish. Big brother knows just how deep those words cut, and he won’t hesitate to use them.
They do have their moments, they will hang out together, and it won’t always end with doors being slammed or yelling. I tell Nolan to cherish those times, like I do. Life is always changing, and we have to change with it. But it’s still hard, very hard, to be the youngest.
How do you deal with the fighting and bickering? Or, if you don’t have that problem at your house, first, could I come live with you, and second, how is that possible? Please tell me your secret. We could use a little more brotherly love at our house.
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