For purposes informational & therapeutic...

Football

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 12:33:41 -0500

Max has a new hobby. Maybe passion would be a better word. Or obsession. Don’t let the t-shirt fool you, he’s not into tractors. It’s football. I’m not sure exactly what has sparked his interest this year more than previous years, but my 5-year-old is completely in love with a pigskin. He can name almost every NFL team and recognize them by their logo and colors. He keeps track of who is good, who “stinks” and who is playing who each week. And, above all, he spends HOURS each day playing the game himself. (Check out the video here to see what I’m talking about) Our living room floor needs new carpet, but at this point I’m thinking artificial turf might be the better choice. Max loves to throw the football in the air and dive for it over and over again, all the while announcing “The Dolphins are winning by 8 points!” or “The Jaguars are beating the Steelers!”. Today, I actually heard him call for an onside kick!

While I’m thrilled that he’s found a fairly constructive way to release the volumes of physical energy that rage within him, it does come at a price. About $14.99 I’d say. That’s about how much I paid for the last pair of jeans I bought him. During these heated living room football games I can actually WATCH as the holes appear. Max has 7 pairs of jeans (hand-me-downs mostly) and 6 of them now have holes. He has been forbidden to even touch a football while wearing the final pair! This could get expensive. I’m hopeful that it is just a phase and will soon be replaced by a a new favorite pastime. If so, I have a suggestion. Sewing.

Darling Diva

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 14:19:01 -0400

Macy is usually pretty laid back about what she wears, but more and more lately, she is expressing her opinion. Hence the outfit above. I usually try to talk her out of such things, but how can you argue with a face like that? She went to the fall party in all her ballerina-skirted, polka-dotted, red-and-pink glory.

Growing Up, Mostly

Tue, 8 Sep 2009 22:31:47 -0400

As if asking to have a baby in her belly wasn’t bad enough, Macy is doing all sorts of other things that are thwarting my attempts to keep her from growing up. Here are a few that make me burst with joy and then bust up in tears:

Riding her big girl bike. A hand-me-down from a friend. She scoots along rather fast and has even braved a few of the frightening sidewalk bumps on her own. After scaling a particularly menacing bump the other day, she shouted “Yeah Bay-bay!” and sped away. I felt like stuffing her back into her stroller, handing her a pacifier and going for a walk the right way.

Buckling herself into her carseat. No bursting with joy here. This one is all tears. This new found assertion of independence now requires us to get into the car a full 10 minutes before we need to leave. Despite my attempts to help speed her along, she screams “GO! GO!” and waves me away. I count to 10. Thousand.

Sunday School. It’s painful just to type that. No more nursery. Macy now attends Sunday School and Pre-School Worship. In our church, the nurseries and the classrooms are located on complete opposite ends of the building. Let me tell you, last Sunday that trek from nursery end of building to the Sunday School classroom was like driving her to college a thousand miles away. (Sorry, it’s late and I’m being a little dramatic.)

Despite these leaps in development, there are some particularly notable rites of passage that we have yet to accomplish. For though she rides a bike, buckles a five point harness and marches happily into Sunday School, she simply sees no need to rush when it comes to conquering the potty. And so she speeds away from toddlerhood with her soggy pull-up flapping in the wind. Sigh.

Conversations

Tue, 8 Sep 2009 22:14:37 -0400

Now that my 2 1/2 year old is talking in complete paragraphs non-stop and using words like “because”, “actually”, “probably” and “practically” to put together thoughts that seem so much larger than her 2 year old self, I’m finding myself privy to some rather interesting conversations. Such as this one, which happened on the way to church on Sunday. I promise, this is practically word-for-word.

Macy (from the backseat): Mommy, when I get big, can I have a baby in my belly?
Me (laughing): Yes. But first you have to get married so that the baby can have a Daddy.
Macy: Okay. I get married.
Max (emphatically): Not me. I am NOT getting married. No way.
Me: Why not Max? Why don’t you want to get married?
Max: It’s just too embarassing!

CSI: Fort Wayne

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 16:36:56 -0400

I love watching those Dateline murder mystery shows. You know, where a woman is dead and clearly the spouse is to blame because he was having an affair and his computer was full of Google searches for poisoning. But wait... the deceased was highly vengeful, clinically depressed and apparently committed suicide and framed her worthless husband. I love them because they are so hard to figure out! One minute, you are sure the man is a murderer, then next moment, he is the victim. It’s just so hard to tell.

This is much the same as living with a 5 year old boy. Not the poisoning part (although I’m pretty sure he knows how to Google), but the fact that the evidence just so often seems conflicting. I hereby submit to the court these two examples...

Exhibit A - an excerpt from an email sent to me by my friend Amy (her daughter is Haley)
Funny Max story Haley told me: After you left the other day, she told me that Max peed on her leg. I asked how in the world that happened. She said, oh, it was just an accident when he was peeing on the sidewalk. I asked when in the world that happened. She said he had to go while they were waiting at the corner before turning to cross the street with their bikes so he dropped trowel and peed right there. Gave me a hearty chuckle.

Exhibit B - the above photo and this explanation:
After supper last night, Max asked, "Mom, do you have any chores I could do?". I offered to let him dust and he said, "No, I need something harder like cleaning out the car." So, I gave him the sweeper and an armor all sponge and sent him to the garage. He cleaned the car for almost an hour. It was spotless. We had to MAKE him take a break to go on a bike ride with us. He was meticulous about it and even swept underneath the floor mats. When he was all done, he wanted to sit in it and admire his work. So I climbed in the car with him and told him how nice it looked. He said, "But where are the sparkles?". I asked him what he meant and he said, "You know, like those little stars that go "DING!" and look like sunshine". Apparently he's aspiring to be the next Mr. Clean. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s all part of an elaborate plan to throw off the jury. We may never know.

For Better or For Worse

Mon, 6 Jul 2009 21:44:50 -0400

On our fireplace, I have a wedding photo of Jason and me. It’s my favorite picture of us from that day. We have just climbed into our getaway car after the ceremony and our smiles are not the phony kind that are inevitable after suffering through a zillion pictures, but are actually genuine expressions of happiness and delight. The photo is in a frame that was given to us as a wedding present by my aunt. It’s a hand-crafted, stained-glass frame that is absolutely beautiful. I’ve had that picture and frame on display in every location we have ever lived since our wedding day 10 years ago. It’s one of my favorite possessions. Or should I say was. It was one of my favorite possessions. Thanks to a rousing game of “volleyball” in our living room, it is no more.

I’m ashamed to admit that I was involved in that tragic volleyball game, though I did NOT hit the memory-shattering spike. In our home, it was the shot heard round the world. I’m also a little ashamed to admit that I cried. I held my anger in check, but I couldn’t stop the tears as I cleaned up the mess. I made sure I told Max that it was okay, I knew it was an accident and that I wasn’t mad at him. He still felt terrible though and immediately set out to make me a new picture. He’s been into drawing lately, and I’m rather impressed at some of the things he comes up with. The picture above is by far my favorite though, because of the sentiment behind it. I was a little perplexed at first that my dress was red and my vail was purple, but Max explained (even before I could ask) that “I can’t color it white, Mommy, because it won’t show up.” I do love Jason’s bow tie.

Volleyball has since been permanently banned from our living room, and I’m still a little sad about my loss, but my fireplace still proudly displays a wedding photo of Jason and me that I think is beautiful - even if I only have three fingers.

Snack Time

Mon, 22 Jun 2009 07:24:12 -0400

An hour after lunch yesterday, Max needed a snack. He had:

a banana
a yogurt
a granola bar
a bowl of strawberries
a chocolate pudding
and
some Sponge Bob fruit snacks.

How is it that this kid only weighs 39 pounds??

Let the Games Begin!

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 15:46:34 -0400

Max had his first baseball practice last night! I think that I was even more excited than he was. I’m not sure why it feels like such a big moment to me, but something about sending him off on his own into the dugout and watching him emerge from that practice all sweaty and full of confidence was just very dear to me! He is playing one night a week on a coach-pitch team at the local YMCA. They practice for half an hour and then play a game against another team for half an hour. This first time was just practice though and Max seemed to enjoy every minute of it. His first comment afterward was, “Mom, next time we get to play a real game and I’m gonna do really good!”. It’s not arrogance, it’s just the kind of childhood confidence that knows nothing yet of defeat, or catching a pop fly in your eye, or striking out again and watching the other team celebrate their win with a trip to Frosty Boy. I certainly remember my summertime softball games well.... painfully well! For now I am living under the illusion that Max will always skip happily onto the field and brim with confidence and possibility. I hope that bubble is able to hold out all summer! At this point, my only worry is which of the 22 possible picture options to choose. Do I need his baseball-bat-touting image plastered on a magnet, a button, trading cards, a team photo, a license plate, a 50X60 fleece blanket or perhaps a 4 and a half foot fathead for our wall???! Let the games (and associated craziness) begin!

A paycheck earned is a paycheck spent.

Fri, 24 Apr 2009 15:39:05 -0400

I started back to work this week. I’m working 2 days a week at a local insurance company. So far, it’s going really well and I am enjoying the people, the work and the “break” from 24/7 motherhood. It’s been just shy of a year that I have been home full time with the kids and while I have enjoyed staying in my pj’s for half the day if I felt so inclined, I’ve also known that I would eventually have to find something to supplement our income once again and start applying makeup on a regular basis. This job has been God’s perfect timing and provision. I was so excited about finding something that allowed me to work only 2 days a week and was thrilled that childcare for those days just fell into place. My sister will have the kids one of the days and the other is Daddy day (since Jason gets a day off during the week).

So, why the picture of Max’s teeth? Well.... let’s just say the first official Daddy day didn’t go exactly as planned. I was working happily away on Thursday when I got the call saying “we’ve had a little accident”. Apparently Max and Macy were being rough (no surprises there!) and Max’s teeth collided with Macy’s head. I was expecting Jason to say that Macy was going to need stitches, but it was the opposite! Max was the one suffering the damage. He managed to knock his front tooth loose and there was quite a lot of blood. Jason handled the situation very well. He dropped Macy off with a friend for nap time and then took Max in to the dentist to have it checked. The dentist is hopeful that the now crooked tooth will be fine, but we are to watch it for the next couple weeks and go back immediately if it turns gray.

The most amusing part of the whole thing was the comment that the dentist made after reviewing Max’s x-rays. He said it was clear from the x-rays that this was not the first major blow to Max’s front teeth. Apparently the position and length of the roots indicated that Max had taken a significant impact to those teeth before. Again, not surprising. He certainly used those teeth to take a nice bite out of my hard earned paycheck for the week!! I wonder if I can set up direct deposit to the dentist’s office?

Official confirmation of what I already knew to be true.

Wed, 18 Mar 2009 14:12:01 -0400