re-do

I pulled up and parked just in time for the last class of first graders to come out of the school in a line and start loading on the bus in an orderly fashion.

"Is this first grade?" I asked one of the parent volunteers.

"Yes, Mrs. K's class," she responded.

I quickly scanned the windows full of faces from the three other classes of first graders.  My eyes quickly found the little blondie I was looking for and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I tapped on his window.  He thought I was just coming to give a send off for his special class field trip, but I had a much more urgent mission.  I motioned for him to get off the bus and mouthed that I wanted to talk to him for a quick minute.

He immediately hopped up and worked his way against the incoming traffic to get off the bus and onto the sidewalk with me.

With his baby sister straddling my hip, I dropped to one knee and put my free hand around his waist.

The tears were brimming.  I could not hold them back.

"Buddy, I feel horrible for how I treated you this morning.  I am so sorry for fighting with you and for the awful things I said.  I was only thinking of myself.  Will you forgive me?" I pleaded.

He looked me directly in the eye and lo and behold, his eyes swam in tears as well.  "Yes mom, I forgive you.  I'm sorry too.  I love you.  Did you come here just to tell me this?" he responded.

"Yes!  Our relationship is important to me and I messed up big time this morning.  I'm so glad I got here before you left for your field trip.  I hope you have a great time.  I love you Rufus." I said.

I watched him get back on the bus and take his seat.  Not two moments later, the bus started to pull away.  I am so grateful that I was given the gift of getting there in time to ask for forgiveness before the school day was through.

I was such a horrible mom to him that morning.  My need for forgiveness was eating away my heart from the moment he left for school.

God has been weaving a lesson of forgiveness throughout my life for months now.  I see it all around me (after I drafted this, this very weekend our church sermon was about forgiveness.  I hear you God!) and I'm learning how to give and receive forgiveness - true forgiveness, not just apologies - in my marriage, friendships, and parenting.

It is not an easy topic for me to learn because it takes a lot of humility both when I am wrong and when I've been wronged.  It takes work on both ends to ask to be forgiven and to truly forgive - and then to choose to leave it in the past.  I'm not very good at it, in fact, I'm really good at digging up old dirt about my kids and my man.

I have been dwelling a lot lately about all the dirt that God has on me.  Enough to build me a mountain from here to Mars, yet I have confidence in the forgiveness I have received in that relationship. 

Who am I to hold on to the dirt of my loved ones?

It is not easy though. 

And I'm on the look out for re-do's.

focus on the good, not the sucky

It is 9:09 p.m.  I have five kids upstairs in bed and asleep.  The kitchen is minimally cleaned up, but I still have to make three of the four lunches for school tomorrow because Sauce decided to make his own tonight (he also put away his clean laundry without being asked - who is that kid???).

It feels like 11:45 p.m.

I ran into a friend at the park today (on account of the rare warm spell) who joked with me that she is stalking my blog for an update.

There is such a mixed bag of what goes on each day, and it is against my nature not to share both.  So, I'll start with the sucky, and because we are all focusing on the good, I will end with that.

Thanks for sticking with me.

Sucky:

• I had to get out of bed ten times last night.  Maybe more.  She wakes up scared to death - anywhere between two and ten times each night.
• Sleep apnea might be contributing to her night troubles and we're investigating that medically.
• I had to work hard to muster a smile for anyone this morning and there was more than one tear.
• Squirt's adjustment has manifested in fear of bad guys and often being sad when I drop him off at school.
• I am ready to fire the housekeeper.  Wait, I don't have one.  I cannot keep my house clean for the life of me - even to my sadly low standards.
• My new state of family-cocoon works to prevent me from seeing friends socially.  I saw a couple of preschool parents by chance at the park this morning as I was trying to exhaust my daughter enough to submit to a long(er) nap (failed by the way).  I realized that this has to be the new normal for now.
• I don't answer a lot of phone calls or initiate them either.
• For now, I can't handle more than finding my balance in my new normal.

Good:

• Our boys ADORE their sister.  They have been the loft to my balloon when I'm discouraged.  Even when she is rotten to them, they are nothing but devoted to her.
• She goes to bed without protest and has adapted to a bedtime routine beautifully.
• We are still getting meals from loving friends (we've been home since 3/29).  I have already announced to all dependent parties that I have forgotten how to cook.
• Every day I take tags off of new items of clothing for Joya.  And I haven't purchased a thing on my own dime.
• She lets me put "pretties" in her hair and we admire my work together.
• Through our pre-bedtime rocking chair time, she has learned where her nose, ears, eyes, hair, mouth, and fingers are.  We work on more each night.
• She understands everything we say in English.  I'm sure she's going to start spouting out sentences when we least expect it.
• Normally not ticklish or physically playful, today I got some full blown belly laughs when I gobbled on her armpits during a diaper change.  And she wanted more.  Smile.
• Despite my Beloved's busy travel schedule, I have been able to keep up with the Taxi-Mom demands of the boys' schedules.
• I take great joy in my boys' enjoying their interests.  We have spring soccer going on and The Hunter and my man both read The H^nger Game$ series together (I read them last year).  I know there is controversy surrounding exposing kids to this series, but for this boy it was a great opportunity to connect and talk about big life topics and I'm glad we encouraged him.
• I have great adoptive moms in my life who only need a one-sentence text from me before they call to encourage me through the tough stuff.  No offense, but now I know you have to go through it to understand.
• Last weekend I was able to go to Denver to the "Empowered to Connect" conference based on the book "The Connected Child" and the work of Dr. Karyn Purvis, PhD. and Director of the TCU Institute of Child Development.  I learned more about investing in my home-grown kids than I ever imagined and came home encouraged and ready to start fresh.  Plus I slept without interruption for TWO nights while I was away.
• My neighbor brought me a beautiful potted orchid yesterday and wasn't offended in the least when I had to cut our visit short to put my tired girl down for her too-short nap.
• One of my very best friends here knows I'm sleep deprived and struggling to ride the waves of this new journey.  Each morning she texts me an encouragement from scripture and asks how she can pray for me and if she can help me by doing a grocery run or other tangible task.  Did I mention that she has six kids of her own???  I am one lucky lady.
• I could go on with the good, but I will end with the fact that this "trial" which is really such joy mixed with adjustment, has enriched my marriage to a wonderful new level.  My Beloved has been transformed by the emotion/struggle/joy/fullness of our experience.  He is more tender and passionate about all of us.  He is quick to find humor as well as flexible to our unpredictable needs despite the demands on him to provide financially for this family of seven.  Next month we will celebrate 15 years of marriage.  He is the rock that keeps us all centered and I simply adore him.

bullets

• We inherited an outdoor cat to solve our mouse problems from some friends who moved away.  Our outdoor cat has suddenly become an indoor-sleep-on-Rufus's-bed-22-hours-of-the-day-until-I-put-her-out cat.  My husband likes We like her though. 
• I've decided that my favorite daytime listening Pandora station is "70's easy listening" - there is rarely a song I don't love.  I know, I should work in a doctor's office.
• I'm seeing my sweet Squirt blossom at four and a half years old.  I agonized over the thought of him going to Kindergarten this fall, but now I think he's really ready.
• Two weeks ago a dear friend and I set up a "let's meet for dinner come hell or high water" night.  That night was last night.  It was blissful.  We ate lots of food including fried green tomatoes.  We talked and talked and laughed until the restaurant closed and then we walked to my car, I drove her to her car, and we talked for another 30+ minutes.  I left with a smile on my face.  It was a treat.
• Fifth grade homework sucks.  I hate that projects become MY work and I wind up caring more about his responsibilities than he does.  Then again, I thought that midnight feedings sucked until I was on my third and fourth child and then they were easy.  So maybe fifth grade will be like that.  Or maybe not.
• I hate the school science fair.  Please refer to my previous bullet.
• My kids are so hungry when they come home from school.  Today I have dinner prepared for them at 3:30 so we can eat for real and then a snack later.  I'll report back with how that works.
• One of my older children still wets the bed at night and I've gotten my hands on a "potty pager" to try to train the stubborn child out of the habit.  Last night was the dry run, except it wasn't dry, it was wet, more than once, and he hates wearing it.  I hate pee, so there.
• The first part of January was spent painting Mrs. Nesbit's room, and since we've lived in this house six and a half years and I've been looking at dingy not-so-white walls and ugly light fixtures in my bedroom, I just decided to push on through and paint that room too (which happens to be a rather large bedroom).  Ceiling, trim, walls, outlets, light switches, and light fixtures are all new now.  I was an aching, messy, paint covered, non-showering woman on a mission for an entire week, but it is done and I love it!  Now we are drooling over the thought of new carpet, and I hate to drool.
• Because I know you're wondering, our adoption paperwork is in the final stages and we look on track to leave for China on March 14th.  My waves of anxiety have started regarding our/her transition and I'm clinging to the proven fact that God works good through the hard stuff in life.  Not that I wish it to be hard, but I want more of God for sure, so pretty much I can't lose, right?
• The ski season has been a total BUST so far and I am actually praying for several big, powdery snow storms to crush our little town so that I can frolic on the slopes sufficiently before I bring a precious two year-old home from China.  Have you ever known me to pray for snow?  It's bad, people.

we're just a tad bit obsessed

Sometime within the last six months our family has grown to love a game we play whenever we're in the car, without fail.

A game most affectionately titled: "YELLOW CAR!"

I wasn't there, but I'm told that it started when my Beloved and Sauce were on a somewhat long drive together.  They, in their matching competitive natures, craved beating each other at something, so the game came to life.

The (unwritten rules) are these:
1.  The game starts over each time we start a new ride, i.e., each time our car is turned off and back on again the scores reset.  No one needs to officially start the game, it is always ON.

2.  The first person to actually see a yellow vehicle yells out "YELLOW CAR!" as loudly and obnoxiously as possible with absolutely no regard for anyone who might be speaking at the moment.

3  The first person to call the YELLOW CAR gets one point.

4. Construction equipment does not count.  It must be a vehicle that can actually drive on the road.

5. Due to his age, Squirt gets every point regardless if he is the first to call it out.  We all just respond with, "Good job Squirt!"

6. The game grows and morphs the longer we play it.  "Slug Bug Yellow!" now earns an extra point.

7.  If you call out "YELLOW CAR!" and the car you've called is so far in the distance that you only thought it was yellow (and took a chance because your kids were winning by an embarrassing number of points), and the car is not actually yellow in color, you then LOSE a point.

8.  If a sibling argument results from calling a YELLOW CAR, both arguers lose a point.

So, now that you know the game, you can understand why a sight like this might make us get into a fender bender of some sort.  :-)

And why watching movies of any kind will have us screaming, "YELLOW CAR!" from the couch at the slightest glimpse of one in the movie, hence distracting us from the actual dialogue and general plot of the movie.  Because c'mon, we can't willingly lose a game!!!

Enter our current problem:

I just thought you should know in case you catch a ride with us somewhere or come over for a movie night.

trick or treat

I have a really hard time spending money on costumes for the big kids when they no longer play dress up in their spare time.  So, my little thieves were delighted to wear plain black shirts wrapped in white duct tape, strips of black fabric as their masks, and cheap pillow cases with $ signs written all over them with a big sharpie.

Mike Wazowski won the candy weigh in due to pure cuteness.

the tough decisions

I'm sitting here on our first snowy morning of the school year.  Yup, you read that right - snow.  Although I'm not really ready to give up flip flops and short sleeves, I know this is the price we pay to live in the mountains and enjoy all the benefits of a ski town.

So, I'm choosing to embrace it.  I have a hot cup of coffee sitting next to my computer and the fireplace is roaring to keep me toasty.

My problem this morning is that I'm also sitting here staring at Sauce's binder that contains his homework that he so diligently worked on yesterday afternoon, and every day for that matter.  He rarely gives me much trouble when requested to complete his homework before having more fun.  He is careful with his answers, has neat handwriting, and generally takes pride in a job well done.

My first instinct was to hop in the car and bring it to him at school.  But, after some internal-parental-decision-making-wrestling, I decided that the only way he won't depend on Mommy to make sure his homework gets to school one way or another is to NOT bring it to him.

Ouch.  You see, this is the first time I've had to do this with my #2. 

Our #1 has been giving us a run for our money for years with things like this.  Last month, when fifth grade grades started streaming in, The Hunter was trying to explain away three zeros on homework assignments and a D+ on a quiz.

My man and I had to make it undeniable that the buck stopped right then and there.  The Hunter is passionate about karate training and he had a quarterly testing event to advance to the next belt color coming up.  It was harder for us than it was for him to miss that testing and remain at his current belt level.

The boy was heartbroken, angry, and embarrassed in front of his karate friends.  It was really hard for us to endure and he tried every way he could think of to change our minds.

Lo and behold, two weeks later we are seeing nothing but A's and an occasional B streaming in.  Admittedly, it has taken much more effort on my part as well.  I'm having to pester him to remember to bring home his homework, review each assignment with a fine tooth comb, make him redo incorrect work, and remind him to actually TURN IN his completed homework.

But, I'm seeing more proactive behavior from him.  He's learning how to succeed and little by little he is developing independence in this area.  It has NOT been easy.  But it HAS been worth it.

So, after reflecting on that victory, I'm expecting Sauce to come home from school upset about forgetting his binder.  I might even get a call from him asking me to bring it in.  But I'm holding out hope that this tiny lesson will reap great profits of personal responsibility for him in the future.

full swing

First day of school pictures are finally up.  This is the last year these three will go to the same school.  Rufus is in first grade, The Hunter is in fifth grade and Sauce is in third grade.

They were literally running to the bus stop.

  Until I made them slow down so we could enjoy the walk together.

With their buddy at the bus stop.

No tears from Squirt this year.  He happily rode home on his bike and enjoyed the day with Mommy.

twas the night before school

Twas the night before school started and all through the house,
Not a boy was stirring because the Melatonin knocked them out.
The backpacks were tossed by the door without care,
With hopes that no homework tomorrow they would bear.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
With the memories of sleeping late still stuck in their heads.
And Mom at the counter, and Dad on a trip,
Both prayed hard that all boys will flourish.

When out of the folders that came home from open house,
Came such a stack of papers Mom was forced to fill out.
She found her favorite pen and a comfortable seat
Because filling them all out would be quite a feat.

Names, grades, parents, and allergies,
Phone numbers, addresses, and who to call in emergencies.
Not so bad if it was just one,
But the three copies ruined the fun.

But she made it through every single last page,
Even though her wrist cramped like someone twice her age.
She let the dog in and locked all the doors,
Then prepped for breakfast so they'd be sure to want more.

She then climbed the stairs with the dog right behind,
And checked on each boy with kisses to remind
That these years are short, though days are long for the parentals,
And someday she would look back and be quite sentimental.

She collapsed into bed and gave a big sigh,
And drifted to sleep to a fan turned on high.
But when the alarm rang, she wiped off her drool,
And said, "GET UP SLEEPYHEADS!!!  IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!"

don't make me come up there!

My man and I were fumbling with an attempt at hooking up a television antenna on our roof(something we're absolutely not qualified to do) between dinner and bedtime last night.

Mistake number one.

At first, the boys were just playing in the yard, screaming and laughing and having a sword fight with the weapons they were awarded as party favors at a birthday party earlier in the day.  Cut a pool noodle in thirds, stick a two-foot PVC pipe in the end, and ta-da, you have hours of entertainment for boys.

It started to get dark outside and we hollered to the troops to get PJ's on and brush teeth (as we were balancing a large television on the edge of a mantle, while managing marital harmony over a wire that was too short to reach where it needed to go).

I'm sure you can imagine that we were not able to actually follow through and reinforce our instructions until we finished the project-that-we-should-not-have-started-until-AFTER-the-kids-were-in-bed.

As instructed, the little angels trotted up the stairs and did exactly as they were instructed to do.

N.O.T.

We heard squealing, yelling, running, stomping, thwacking, giggling, whining, thumping, hollering, and screaming.

My beloved and I returned fire with threats of what would happen when we got up there if they didn't knock it off and do what we told them to.

Suddenly we heard the ruckus silence and drawers opening and closing and water running.

N.O.T.

This is why threatening does not work with parenting.  We were stuck to the problem television and they knew it.  They called our bluff and continued on with the wild rumpus.

We finally man-handled the wires and finished our project.  I headed immediately upstairs to man-handle my children, but was met with this:

To which I busted out laughing and went and got their dad. 

And the camera.

I don't even know what to say about the snake skin tucked into The Hunter's pajama pants.  There are no words, so I will just stop here.

little wild horses

I often think about the fact that my kids have no concept of how exceptional their surroundings are.  They climb mountains, ski down them, visit national parks (often), and have been exposed to some of the most unique back country wilderness that I have seen in my life - all before my eldest even finishes elementary school.

Heck, our views on our walk to the bus stop would stop any flat-landers in their tracks.

Our visit to southern Utah this spring was no exception.  Amidst all the hiking memories we have created as a family, Little Wild Horse Canyon stands out easily as my favorite.

As much as I really enjoy writing stories, this time the pictures are really worth a thousand words.

My men are already talking about hiking this one again.

sick-of-winter-fever

Some call it "Spring Fever."  But seeing that winter in the mountains lasts well into May and it doesn't surprise us to see a dusting of snow in early June, we have renamed the fever.

Each April, we get the itch.  South....must....go....south!  It is still winter here, but a four hour drive south to Moab will usually plop us in temperatures in the 70's or 80's.

This year we had a campground reservation, but had to change it to a hotel reservation due to a forecast of unusually chilly nights.  Daytime temps were to be in the mid 60's and that is double the Park City temps where we were blessed with got 12 inches of snow per day that we were away.

I can handle sleeping in the cold.  My big boys can handle sleeping in the cold.  But my littles?  I'm pretty sure they'd be miserable.  And if the littles ain't happy, Mama ain't happy.

And if Mama ain't happy.... well you get the picture.

So, we packed up the new family truckster "Ruby" (Beloved took a new job = no company car = newer used Suburban for Mama = older, kid "loved", very unmanly minivan for my Beloved) for her first road trip.

We've never had a DVD player in any car before.  It wasn't on our want list for a vehicle, but this one came with it.  Can you tell it is their first time?  We don't really sit them four across - we were just testing the headphones.

A couple of movies later, we were in Moab.  Our first adventure was the giant sand dune across from Arches National Park.  A lovely FREE piece of fun that you can just drive up to and play.  Hours of entertainment for four boys, exercise for Mom and Dad, and we (almost) felt like we were at the beach!  I guess we were, but there was no water, just desert.

Next, we saw some of these.  Just as Kenyon was commenting how despicable it is that people carve their names into the rock next to historical art, he looked down to see Rufus finishing letter number three of his name.  Luckily, some sand washed it off, but we were laughing for the rest of the trip about it.

One thing that tends to define us when we hike is that my husband we always tend to push the boys past their limit and into the depths of exhaustion.  Our first day we hiked eight miles.  My Beloved would argue that it made them into the tough hikers that they are today.  I argue that it just makes for a cranky bunch of boys on their way to the car.

The perks of hiking great distances are these:

 

AND there's this view at the "end".

I'm saving the best for last.  Check back for the story of our most fascinating hike ever (picture "127 Hours" but with both arms).

Also, just a teaser - I'll share one of our most humbling parenting moments.

the knucklehead chronicles - part two

First, read part one.

Now, for EXHIBIT B:

School has interfered with my ability to fit in timely haircuts for the boys.  I comb their hair every morning as they are gulping down their cereal.

However, I don't inspect the condition of their eyebrows.

One Friday afternoon, The Hunter had his best school buddy over to play and I heard a lot of snickering and, "Don't tell her," going on.

I'm okay with a secret as long as it is okay to be a secret, you know what I mean?  So after asking if their secret was an appropriate secret, being reassured that it was, more laughter and whispering, I ignored the knuckleheads.

Suddenly, the secret was killing him.  He showed up in the kitchen and said that he can't keep it from me any longer.  He lifted his long hair away from his forehead.....

and I nearly peed in my pants.

While taking a shower in our bathroom, he decided to experiment with his dad's razor.  Instead of shaving his leg or his arm, the parts that a woman might see as logical he went for his EYEBROW.

At this rate, I fear puberty.  Knucklehead.

an excellent read

One thing I really enjoy doing with my boys (glasses or no glasses) is reading.  I think it is a no brainer when they are younger because they love any age appropriate children's book.  We have some old favorites, but through about the age of six, we could pull random books off the shelves at the library and they would be happy little bookworms.

The Hunter and Sauce are getting a bit trickier.  Sure, they love the ever popular "Magic Tree House" series as well as "The Boxcar Children."  They will often take these to bed and read to themselves at bedtime.

But I work to stretch them and broaden their horizons.  I like to go to the library by myself and scan the chapter books for something that I know they will really enjoy, but that they wouldn't necessarily choose themselves.

And then, because I know they are going to love a certain book, I read it aloud to them.

I'm selfish like that.

I LOVE to hear their giggles and gasps and, "Oh man!"  I get such enjoyment from the begging for just one more chapter.  I cherish the moments when I'm tucking them in and they ask me who my favorite character is or what I think will happen next.

We just finished reading one of those books that we will likely remember for years to come.

"Because of Mr. Terupt" caught my eye because as I flipped through the 260+ pages, I could see that the chapters were randomly titled with the same seven first names (Peter, Alexia, Luke, Jeffrey, Danielle, Anna, Jessica).  The summary said that the story revolved around one phenomenal fifth grade teacher and seven (very different) students from his class told the story.

I knew that a story led by a creative, enthusiastic teacher would catch my big boys' attention.  They are in the thick of experiencing the ups and downs of classroom learning, both socially and academically.  Often, they will question WHY they must learn a certain concept.  Other times, they will come home with a story of how another student said something mean for no reason at all.

I know that kids can be just plain mean for no reason, but I thought the different points of view would really open my sons' eyes and give them perspective that their fellow students are often more than meets the eye.  Also, I knew they would enjoy the creative and dynamic teacher that Mr. Terupt would prove to be.

I was right.  We finished the book in a grand total of four days.  In every spare moment, they were asking me to read "just one more chapter."  I had to hide the book when we had a babysitter one night because I knew they would finish it without me. 

They laughed out loud at Luke's "dollar word" habit (you'll never guess).  They started out hating Alexia, and then they learned to understand her.  They cracked up at the plant experiment and seeing the principal's wedgie.  All so perfect for elementary boys.

Although we are an in tact family, I know that many of their friends are struggling in broken homes.  I loved the real life "behind the scenes" perspective it gave them on grief, loss, judging others, and freely giving to those who may appear not to have anything to give in return such as special needs kids.

Although painful at times, this story dove into all of those topics without dealing my kids anything that I felt was inappropriate for their ages.  I felt it was so valuable to process through these types of feelings through a fictional experience.

If you have a third grade level reader or above, I emphatically recommend this book.  I was so glad that I didn't just hand it to one of my boys to read alone.  There were so many life lessons and discussion starters and we are all a bit more wise and compassionate because of it.

the white stuff

The whirlwind of pre-vacation school events, family in town, and lots of snow have given me excuses prevented me from blogging.

My sister, her family, and my mom were all just here for a week during which time, about 60 inches of snow fell.

Amy and I skied as much as we could get my mom to babysit.

Here are some highlights.

let it begin

First we had this:

Then a little of this:

We enjoyed this:

And now we're starting this:

And this:

More to come.

it's five o'clock somewhere

Shall I say "Part One?"

Welcome to my periodic series recognizing the end of a long day - or possibly even several trying days in a row - with a rant and a glass of wine (well deserved, in my opinion).

Our household has been passing around yucky-fever-cough-snot-congestion-can't-sleep-staying-home-from-school-whiny-fussy-watery-eyed-only-want-mommy-illness for the past week.

Our little Squirt definitely had it the worst with fevers nearing 104 degrees and lots of crying for a boy who normally does a lot of smiling.

A trip (with four kids in tow) to the pediatrician won him the prize diagnosis of an ear infection and a trip through the drive-thru... pharmacy.

During our prayer time this morning, Sauce prayed that Daddy would be sure to use lots of hand sanitizer on his trip - I'd say we're all sick of being sick if we're going to the Lord about hand sanitizer.

Our neighborhood is having some sort of water issue (picture brown tinged water coming out of the faucet) and we can't use our water to drink or cook with.  Another errand was needed to the fire station where a nice firefighter loaded up my trunk with gallons of tax payer funded free drinking water.  Two days of this and it still isn't resolved.

Call me a spoiled American, but if I have running water in my house, I would like to actually, ahem, use it.

There are some more little punks at school giving my eldest a hard time and I'm growing weary of guiding him to rise above their crap antics.  I'm about ready to tell him to unleash his recently acquired cuss words karate training on them to silence them - no matter the consequences from the principal.

My beloved is on the east coast receiving some specialized training for his job, but I sure could have used him here today to kick some butt when my two middle muddles, Sauce and Rufus, couldn't get along for the life of them (for no particular reason at all, I might add).

In an attempt to "aid" their reconciliation, they spent quite a bit of time holding hands.  Then they graduated to sitting cheek-to-cheek when they still couldn't find love for each other.  Sauce was still having a hard time cooling down his hot temper, so I'm sorry to say that he was shoved out on the front porch (high temperature of 29 degrees today) and his fed up mother someone promptly locked the doors behind him.

He heard the muffled instructions to, "Calm the heck down!" through the door.  After about five minutes of teeth chattering, he came in to reluctantly make peace with his younger brother.

I thought I was feeling better, but tonight I can't take a breath without an over exaggerated coughing fit.

But since my beloved won't return until late tomorrow night, I'm heading upstairs to curl up with my body pillow that fills his vacant spot - and a healthy shot of Nyquil.

the knucklehead chronicles - part one

I call my friend Erin a "girl mom."  Her oldest child is a girl and I think it doomed her to have unrealistic boy standards.  Her husband Dave is a man who says what he means and means what he says.

One day after hearing Erin's pure exasperation about the antics of their boys, Dave enlightened her with the truth about boys.  It went something like this:

"Boys are knuckleheads.  They are knuckleheads when they are born and they don't stop being knuckleheads until the age of 25, and even that is variable."

I completely and totally agree.  If there is one thing you can depend on from boys, it is that they are knuckleheads.

EXHIBIT A:

"What is that?" you say.  The Hunter has a friend who's dad works for $kullcandy and generously gave pendant necklaces to the entire class.

Rather than wearing the above referenced necklace around his neck, my little knucklehead chose to stick his pinky through the eye socket.

Enter swelling.

The ice was no use.  Butter, cooking oil, no luck.  My man had to bring out the big guns.

To my knowledge, Erin hasn't had to bring out bolt cutters with her little knuckleheads just yet.