Not Happening.

Tonight at dinner, out of nowhere, Jack Henry mentioned that he’d like to have another brother, and then changed it to sister.

“Just to have someone to play with who’s not as crazy as the brothers,” he said.

Bennett, sitting next to me, the girl counting calories and eating a plate full of vegetables, looks down at my belly and says, laughing, “Look! I can see my baby sister now, right there!”

{GROAN. Please, Bennett. I’m already working on that. And by the way? Currently not my favorite child for pointing out the food baby/leftover baby weight/area that I’m storing up Dr. Pepper.}

I tell him, “Buddy, I will not be having more babies. Pretty sure of that.”

To which he wisely responds, “How do you know that for sure? I mean, Sarah had a baby when she was 99!”

He speaks truth. However, I’m fairly certain that Abraham did not use the surgical means we’ve employed to prevent the baby from coming before his wife was a centenarian. So without going into any details, I assured him again that I was finished bearing children (barring a miracle, clearly, that would defy the medical odds) and changed the conversation.

Family dinner. Always a good thing.

Things My Mom Did That I Thought Were Weird, But Now I Do, Too.

No hot dog bun, and your kiddo really wanted a (uncured turkey, no nitrates or nitrites added) hot dog on a bun instead of bread? No problem.

Sweetness

A couple of months ago, I watched my niece Ava for a couple of days while her regular babysitter was away on a trip. Ava’s big brother Will goes to a preschool/daycare, so that left Ava in need of a place to hang out, and we were lucky enough to have her here with us.

Jack Henry LOVED this. It was really fun to see how interested he was in everything she did, and how he took care of her and talked to her. When everyone’s together it’s so loud, but with just the 3 of us at home, he got to play the role of big brother, and he was diggin’ it.

The first day, when we put Ava down for her afternoon nap, Jack Henry insisted on reading her a story. I explained that 15-month-olds don’t always do well with books, but he gave it a good try and she cooperated for half the book, which pleased him to no end. When she got too fidgety, we put her in the pack-n-play with her paci and blanket, and naturally, being in an unusual setting, she started to cry.

We snuck away, and sat in JH’s bedroom, finishing up his story. She cried for 2 minutes tops, and then quieted down and talked to herself for a few minutes before falling asleep. In my eyes, that is as good as you can ask for in an unfamiliar situation.

The second day, as it was time to settle her down for a nap, Jack Henry looked at a flap book with her while I got the bed and room ready. Jack Henry hugged her tight, and told her good night, and I put her in the pack-n-play. She started to wail immediately, and Jack Henry’s face fell…he was sad for her. But as we moved out of the room and closed the door, he started to cry himself.

I walked him down the hall to his own room, and let him cry out his empathy tears over Ava’s sadness. I explained again why she was doing it, and that she was fine and he would’ve done the same thing at her age.  Poor guy.

It’s interesting and fun to see him in new situations, where he’s the big kid. I love that he has so many little cousins (6 of them 3 and under, with 2 babies on the way in May and July!), so he learns how to be more than just the baby of the family!

PSA: Removing Cover Art in iTunes

Luke got a new-to-him iPod for Christmas that he was really anxious to fill with music (I mean, who wouldn’t be?).

I’ve been pretty careful about lyrics since I knew Luke could repeat things at 18 months or so. It’s gotten to the point that if Ke$ha or the like comes on the radio, Jack Henry will immediately tell me to change the station!

Sidenote: I am married to someone who pays little attention to lyrics, but likes a good beat. Source of contention.

However, an iPod and music in Luke’s ear is new territory for us. I told him when he said he wanted one that I had veto power over all song selection, and he readily agreed to that.

What I didn’t think about, though, is the cover art on albums. I’ve rarely paid any attention to it. Until now. I don’t think my 10-year-old needs to see the cover of Maroon 5′s Hands All Over album. But, there are a few songs on the album that I would let him have.

So I googled how to remove cover art in iTunes, and guess what? It’s super easy. The instructions are here on e-how. I found that it only worked on individual songs and not the whole album, so it was a repetitive little job but really quick.

And worth it to me.

A friend with teenagers recently told me that one way she helps guide good choices in music/movies for her kids is to remind them that everything they see/hear goes into their brain and stays there forever…there’s no way to unsee it. So, you should choose carefully what you put in there!

I told her I was filing that wisdom away for a couple of years, and then already used it with Luke this week. I’m so not ready to have a teenager…

Into the Memory Box

We’ve spent part of our Christmas break moving some toys downstairs from our main floor playroom, as a big transformation is going to happen in there soon. We’ve also cleaned out some toys the boys no longer play with, and have donated or sold those.

As we were going through some things, I came across Luke’s old yo-yo. Remember it, from 3+ years ago?

Though we’d replaced the string a couple of times due to how much it was played with, it was without a string, and hadn’t been played with in months. Luke said I could throw it away, and I said that was fine.

And then I grabbed it from the trash and remembered what a cool parenting experience it had been with him, and I stuck it in his memory box. I should probably print a copy of the story, too, so when he finds it someday he knows why I saved it.

I know I’m a sap, but I love when things come full circle.

Interesting…

Per the child who reported this to me:
The mark on his jeans made by pen was an accident.

Yep. That looks just like an accident to me.

Cookie Day!

I have a confession that makes me sound like a horrible mother, but here it is:

I don’t really like baking with my kids. Shhhh…

I SO WISH my mom was still here (for a multitude of reasons, of course) so I could ask her if she actually liked baking with me and my siblings when we were little. Because it was, from my perspective, always fun. So either she really liked it, or she did a darn good job of faking it.

Anyway, for the first time this year, I let the boys help with cutting out the sugar cookies in addition to icing some (as always, I only let them frost the ones they get to eat; if they’re going to neighbors or for me to eat, I take care of that ). The cutting out part was a little stressful, but overall, much more fun than I’d envisioned.

Plus, we cut them out one day, I baked them the next, and they frosted them the next. Spacing it out made it much better, too!

Figuring it out…

JH: “This is just like playdoh!”

tempting…

Confused.

As background: people are always saying “Bennett is a Pals” (my maiden name is Pals for those of you who don’t know) because he is practically my clone at age 7.

Today, Jack Henry and I are finishing up shopping for what we need over the next couple of days. As we headed out, I said, “oh, I’ll need cheddar cheese to make Mac and cheese for our Pals Christmas meal.”

Very matter-of-factly, JH said, “So, just you and Bennett will be going to that?”

Me: “Why?”

JH: “Well, you and Bennett are the only Palses in our family.”

Me: stifling laughter, explaining what “Bennett is a Pals” means…

This Morning

I’ll admit that typically, I happily send my children out the door for school in the morning. I love them, and I’m sending them off to get the best education possible, and that happens somewhere other than in our home.

But this morning, I sent them off with a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t really think anything will happen to them at school (and not in a “it couldn’t happen here” mentality, just a “what are the chances” mentality), but the truth is that we just never know.

I’m praying for school kids, teachers, and administrators everywhere, many of whom are my friends and family, as they cope with what school looks like in the aftermath of this tragedy.

10.

When I made my first birthday post on this blog, it was for Luke’s 5th birthday. Everything about that post makes me sob, not the least of which is that there is a comment on there from my mom.

Obviously, a lot has changed in the past five years. In addition to growing 11 inches, losing 8 teeth, and completing 4 grades, there’s this from 2007:

And these from tonight:

{ok this one was from last week, when we gave him his bike early}

I made the mistake of combining this already-emotional day with burning DVDs of our old home videos. I’m at the point where Luke is 2 and Bennett is a baby, and oh my gosh…they’re so darn cute, I can’t believe they’re mine. There’s a sense of it all going too fast coupled with the knowledge that we’ve packed a lot of living and growing and changing into these past ten years.

(As I type this, though, there’s a short clip of baby B laying on L’s big boy bed, and L is throwing a large, hard bouncy ball at him, so I’m glad that I’m being reminded that it wasn’t all sunshiny.)

(or I’d be begging Matt to reverse that procedure I begged him to get for years.)

(Back to Luke…)

We celebrated with dinner at Red Robin, of course, where we celebrate most of our birthday dinners in this family. Luke got that Cards stocking cap he’s modeling in the picture above, in addition to his bike and James May’s Lego House book. We’ll celebrate with our families over Christmas, as we’ve done the past several years.

Happy birthday, Luke! Being your mom is challenging and fun, and I so hope you’ll look back on your childhood as happily as I will. I love you, buddy!