"Is this really my life?"

If I had a nickel for every time I asked myself the question in the title of this post, I would be a rich, rich woman.

The latest antic to cause me to ask this question is a story witnessed by Aaron:

Yesterday he was watching all three boys while I was at a school open house for Cade for next year. He left all three downstairs (mistake number one) and ran upstairs briefly to get something. When he left, the boys were watching TV and the baby was lying on his baby gym.

When he came back, the baby was lying on the baby gym (now collapsed) with his one-piece outfit ripped open (it buttoned down the front) and Cade was hooked up to my breast pump.

Seriously, guys? Not even the breast pump is sacred!??!?

Boob Men

Still not finding a lot of time to post these days - baby is keeping us hopping. But I couldn't resist jumping on real quick to share this gem of a story...

We had a Halloween party this past Friday night and as of Friday morning, there were still components of costumes that needed to be purchased. Lucky for me, the big boys are home from school on Fridays so I got to take all three boys to Wal-Mart!!! In the rain!!! I've posted before about how much FUN it is to run errands in the rain. And yep - it's still this fun! But anyway...

The trip to Wal-Mart was actually going pretty well. The big boys were on their best behavior until we walked past the socks and underwear department, specifically, past the bras.

"BOOBS!", Cade shouted - laughing and pointing. This prompted Drew to crack up and scream, "HA! Boobs!!!" and laugh and point as well. Then, being the clever AND musically inclined children that they are, they proceeded to make up a song entirely composed of the word "boobs" and sing it at the top of their lungs while I quickly tried to steer us away from the source of their inspiration. A fellow shopper noticed me shushing them and rushing away, head down, and commented, "Wow. Three boys! Lucky you!"

Lucky me, indeed.

Note: Lest you think that it is age inappropriate that my three- and four-year old boys know about boobs, I just want to assure you that their boob education comes from the fact that I nurse their brother, not that I let them watch porn.

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread...

So the (big) boys have discovered a new game. Last night as a special treat, they got a bubble bath in the big jacuzzi tub in the master bath. They used this as an opportunity to cover the entire bathroom in bubbles. Why? Because they were scooping up bubbles and throwing them at each other, pie-in-the-face-style, while screaming, "Daily Bread!".

Huh?

I guess they have been paying attention in church after all.

Us Against Them

Anyone who has siblings can attest that no matter how nuts you make each other, there is a certain camaraderie that develops by nature of the fact that you are allies against common enemies - your parents.

The big boys have definitely solidified their alliance. Recently heard at our house:

A few weeks ago, as they heard Aaron stomping up the stairs to yell at them to stop goofing off and go to bed for the five THOUSANDTH time that night...
Cade to Drew: Hurry! Get down! He's coming!!!

Tonight, Cade sent his emissary (Drew) down from the playroom to ask if we would come up and type in the password to unlock the computer so they could play pbskids.org. We told Drew no, as it was time to do bath and bedtime stories.
Cade (screaming down the stairs): Drew! Did they say they would come set it up?
Drew: No. They said they would not set it up.

I must say, it was kind of a rude awakening. It definitely feels weird to be old enough to be "them" and not "us".

What's in a Name?

Of late, my children have become obsessed with their names. They want me to write out their full names so they can painstakingly copy them beneath my writing. Then we have to write out the full names of the rest of the family, including their grandparents and aunts. Then we have to talk about why each person has that name (i.e. if it is a family name or some other connection). We do this pretty much on a daily basis. The only thing that changes is the color of marker we use.

We have always had issues naming our kids. Only Drew's name (Andrew Joseph) chose itself, mainly because we were lazy - it was the name my parents had chosen for my youngest sister, had she been a boy.

We vacillated back and forth on Cade's name and finally settled on Peter Cade - Peter after Aaron's grandfather and Cade because we liked it (it was before the days when Caden was so popular). Calling Cade by his middle name has never given us any problems, except for at the pediatrician's office, where we have been patients for almost 4 years now. The doctor still issues instructions like, "Sit still, Peter." or, "This won't hurt a bit, Peter.", while Cade looks around the room wondering who the hell Peter is. Despite my multiple attempts to correct the doctor and her staff, they just can't get it. Until his 4 year checkup, when they started calling him Andrew. Yes, time for a new doctor, I know, but that's another story...

And most of you have probably read about our recent trials naming poor Joshua Quinn.

So today Cade threw us by a loop by informing us that his name was no longer Cade. He now wants to go by Quinn. Because he "likes it better".

That'll throw the pediatrician for a loop.

Boys and Their Toys, Part II

I am not a fan of teeny tiny plastic toys. Especially those with a million movable parts. Perhaps because toys fitting this description seem to be primarily targeted towards boys. As a girl growing up in the pre-Polly pocket days, I was successfully able to these tiny critters, such as army guys, Star Wars guys and their battleships, and the most evil of tiny toys with movable parts - Transformers.

Yesterday, we received our first Transformer as a gift. The boys, who know nothing about Transformers, were inherently drawn to the package. The begged me to open it, surveyed the jet-looking toy before them and asked, "Does it turn into something else?" Seriously?! Do guys have a sixth sense about this stuff or what?

Using the handy accompanying 45-step, poorly illustrated instruction booklet, I was able to make exactly zero progress after a good 20 minutes of trying to turn the Transformer from a rocket/jet type thing into a robot. Cade finally got impatient and snatched it out of my hand and in three swift moves, actually made it resemble the Decepticon on the package.

Drew wanted it to go back to a jet, but Cade couldn't figure that out. I tried to, but I accidentally ripped his arm off (the Transformer's, not Drew's). When I told the boys I couldn't figure out how to get it back on and we would have to wait for Daddy to get home, Cade replied, "I know just what we need to fix it! A soldering iron!"

Spoken like a true guy.

What Are Cade, Drew, and Josh Up To Now?

These are busy, busy boys. Funny stories from this week:

Cade has a new trick where he launches onto the sofa and stands on his head on the sofa, bracing his feet on the wall (thanks, Little Gym!). We basically yell at him 15 times a day NOT to do this, but he keeps "forgetting". Aaron reported the following conversation today.
Aaron: CADE! Why do you insist on doing that all the time?!?!
Cade: Because I'm a jackass!
Oops. Not sure where he picked this up. And I'm really not sure. That's one word that isn't in my potty mouth repertoire....

And while getting ready for bed one night....
Me: Drew - come here so mommy can put your jammies on.
Drew: Ok, mommy. I know no one wants to see my butt crack.

And last but not least, Baby J. Before he was born, we heard from so many friends and family about the laid-back, go-with-the-flow, sleep anywhere/anytime temperament of third babies. Well, apparently he didn't get that memo and not only that, he thinks he is an only child. He prefers to be held - all the time. Actually, this makes for not such a funny story by 1 am each night...

The Olympic Rings Under My Eyes

I look like crap these days. For two reasons:

1) Baby J stays up half the night and insists on being held from 5 pm to 1 am until he finally conks out.

2) For the past week and a half, we have been staying up half the night watching swimming and gymnastics.

I have seen more Olympics this year than I have of the past 5 Olympics combined. I will be sad when they are over because I will have to go back to watching Law and Order reruns until my little night owl gets his schedule figured out.

Drew Ism

It's been awhile since I've posted anything funny for the grandmas. Here was Drew's funny tonight:

Aaron: Hey Drew - look at all those cars you have! Where's Mater? (Mater is Drew's favorite character from the movie Cars)
Drew: Daddy! Mater's not a car! He's a hiccup truck!

Entering the Age of Manipulation (Er...Innocence)

So today marks Cade's fourth birthday, which I can hardly believe. I started getting teary eyed last night, when Aaron remarked as Cade was going to bed, "Good night, three year old! When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be four!"

In preparation for turning four, Cade has experienced an explosion of skills in recent weeks, including becoming quite the conversationalist, learning how to dress himself (for the most part), and really trying to serve as a positive and helpful example for his potty training brother. Unfortunately, his bargaining and manipulation skills are developing quite quickly as well. A few cases in point:

In an effort to get the boys to help around the house with small chores we have developed a new chore and consequence system. If I ask the boys to say, pick up a toy as their chore, they must do that chore by the count of three (REAL count of three, not ongoing count of three) or lose a privilege. In order to earn that privilege back, they have to do THREE chores to make up for not doing the chore in the first place. A few days ago, Cade protested taking cars up to the playroom from the living room. He lost his privilege for TV the next day (it was already nighttime) and told me he wanted to take the three chores to earn it back. So I told him the first chore was to pick up his freaking cars and take them to the playroom! He was furious that his plan hadn't worked and told me he meant he wanted three DIFFERENT chores. Sorry, buddy - no dice.

To curb goofing off and getting out of bed at bedtime, we instituted a three consequence system for bedtime as well. Not to be outsmarted, the other night Cade sent Drew as his emissary to let us know that "Cade needs something." When we got upstairs, it turned out that Cade had simply "forgotten" which cup of water next to the bed was his and which was Drew's. Unwilling to risk punishment for getting out of bed, he sent Drew the Sacrificial Lamb on a parental-finding/bedtime stalling mission.

Cade's manipulation has gotten progressively more brazen and this morning, in celebration of his birthday, he kicked it into high gear. We popped into the drugstore to pick up a few items. His usual maneuver is to follow me around asking for assorted items, to which my response is always, "Not today." or "Put it on your birthday/Christmas list". Today's coveted item: a Sponge Bob Square Pants disposable camera, which he handed to me and said, "Can I get this mommy? I really, really want it!". Watching me draw a breath and prepare to refuse him, he sweetly said, "It's on my list because today is my birthday!". Leaving me little option but to cave - after all, you only turn four once.

Sassy As All Get Out

Cade, who has always had a sophisticated sense of humor, has been in rare form lately. He's finally reached the stage that most of his peers reached two years ago - that is to say, he never shuts up. For a boy who staged a speaking boycott for the first 3 1/2 years of his life, he now suddenly has something to say about EVERYTHING - usually with tongue in cheek humor. A few examples from the past few days:

On Valentine's Day, during a discussion about love and what it means:
Me: Don't you love mommy, Cade?
Cade: No.
Me: Why not?
Cade: Because I don't have a heart.

Cade and Drew acted like absolute beasts in a restaurant one night and as punishment, I told them we could not go to Chick-fil-A for lunch and play on the playground for the next week. This was on a Thursday. The next Tuesday, we had occassion to meet some friends at Chick-Fil-A (stupid mommy had long forgotten about the punishment). As we were pulling into the parking lot:
Cade: But mommy, we lost this privilege!
Me: Uh - that was last week. This is a new week. Mommy hopes you learned your lesson - do you think you can behave now!?

While chasing Cade down after bathtime to try to wrestle jammies on him:
Me: Cade, why are you so skinny?
Cade: Mommy, why are YOU so fat?

Arriving home after an entire morning at the circus where Cade scored third row seats, two free hats, a bag of cotton candy big enough to feed an entire circus, and even a few covert sips of diet coke.
Cade: So guys, what are we gonna do today?

While eating a snack after a trip to the grocery store:
Aaron: Cade - if you're going to eat those grapes, you need to wash them off first.
Cade: Are you JOKING me?

I seriously do not even want to THINK about what this kid will be like as a teenager - I'm exhausted already.

Mass Apology and Brief Update

I can't believe it has been 2 months since I last posted. I am totally embarassed since I know I USED to have readers (a number of friends comment to me that they read the blog), but they have probably all died off due to lack of activity by now. At least I know I can count on the grandmas to stick around. Maybe.

No, I did not go on strike to show support for the television writers. I have really only two excuses for my lameness/lack of posting:
1) the holidays kicked my butt this year
2) i am pregnant again and sick as a dog

Since the holidays kick every mom's butt every year, I won't dwell on that excuse. But I will beg off on the fact that with each pregnancy, I have endured an epidosode of morning sickness that I liken to a two-month long hangover. This one, unfortunately, is no different.

The good news is that I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I have now gone two straight days without gagging over the smell of my husband's coffee in the morning. Or the smell of my husband himself, which is normally quite freshly showered and pleasant, but for some reason repulses me when I am pregnant. So I think I'm coming out of it and making a renewed commitment to the blog.

I'm way behind on everything, not just the blog, so for anyone left reading, I'd like to make the following apologies:
-To all of you who are reading this because I talked about it in my Christmas letter, I'm sorry I haven't bothered to post since I sent the stupid letter out.
-To all family members, I'm sorry I haven't posted the Christmas pictures online yet.
-To all out of town friends, I'm sorry I haven't returned your phone calls for two months. I got overwhelmed by the high number of messages on the machine a few days ago and deleted them all without listening to them.
-To my youngest son's godparents, I'm sorry I haven't sent you a thank you note for the Christmas presents yet. The Magtastic set was a big hit - thank you! Thank you note on the way.
-To my co-workers - yes, I still work there. I'm sorry I quit returning emails after Christmas.
-To my in-town friends that made me dinner when I was so sick I couldn't stand the sight of food - thank you - my children would have been malnourished without you. Thank you notes on the way. Maybe.
-To my cousin - I'll send the cat's paperwork as soon as I can - I'm sorry it has taken me so long.
-To my sister Megan - I promise one day I will call you back.

I think that's it for now.

As for the update on what you've missed the past few months during my posting hiatus:

• As previously mentioned, pregnant with third (and we think, final) child. This morning sickness crap is for the birds. Beyond excited - due date August 8th - no, we are not finding out the sex this time!
• As outlined in Christmas letter, Aaron has accepted job offer in Atlanta, so looks like we will be hanging out here for awhile longer.
• Cade was excited about turning 4 in a few weeks until he learned he would have to quit sucking his thumb when he turned 4. Now he has decided to turn 3 again. For his birthday party this year he wants to "stay home and eat cake", which sounds great for him, but not so exciting for his party guests. We are revising the plan a little...
• Drew put his peepee in the potty 3 times. In two months. We're still working on it.
• Jocko has gone to live with aforementioned cousin (God bless her) - with another baby there will be no room for a cat.

It's amazing how two months of agony can be summed up in a few bullet points. Here's hoping I actually make it back to post again in the next few days...

Who Needs a Woman When You Have Mom?

It never ceases to amaze me how my children are at the opposite ends of the cleanliness spectrum. Cade wigs out of his hands are dirty, if there's junk on his face, or if his clothes are stained/torn/wet/fill in the blank. Drew, on the other hand, STILL drools enough to float a battleship at age 2 1/2 so his shirts are ALWAYS soaked, his face is always dirty, and his resistance to cleansing is so great that usually he either has eye booger, a snotty nose, or sticking up hair. I fear that he will be THAT kid in elementary school. You know - the one no one wants to sit next to because his nose is always running and his lunch is on his face.

Case in point: last night's dinner. Each boy ate the same exact meal - lasagna and a caesar salad. Cade escaped with just a few flecks of parmesan cheese on his sleeves, from when he spilled it on the table and then leaned into it. Drew - covered from head to toe in lasagna. We're talking face, hands, shirt, eyelashes, hair, EVERYWHERE. I stripped him down, gave him a mini bath at the table with 15 wet paper towels, and shook my head and said, "Drew - you're never gonna get a woman someday if you don't clean yourself up". Aaron laughed and said, "Yeah Drewbie - don't you ever want to find a woman?" Drew's response: "How about a truck instead?"

Cade, who overheard this conversation, came running back to sit in my lap and said, "I already have a woman, Daddy! It's Mommy!"

Boys DO love their moms. Deep, deep down inside.

When It Rains, It Pours

Logging on today after a long absence from the computer and a very rough week. My computer gave me the blue screen of death on Sunday and it has taken all week to get everything fixed up and back to normal. But I can honestly say that my week was not off to the greatest start even before then. On Saturday, I wasn't sure which was worse - that my clothes dryer ate a squirrel (yes, you read that correctly) or that my oldest son kicked me headfirst kicking and screaming into the world of sex ed.

It all started when my dryer just conked out. We called the repair man, who came and diagnosed a broken motor. Until he took off the back of the dryer to install it and found that a squirrel had crawled in through the vents and been hacked to death by the fans on the dryer. Nice.

On the bright side, it had happened fairly recently so at least the broken dryer spared us from having to discover this extremely retarded situation when we started smelling decomposing squirrel. AND it turns out that a few broken fans are a lot cheaper to replace than a motor. Best $100 I ever spent to spare myself from digging squirrel bits out of my dryer. Good Lord.

On to part two of this crappy day.

Of late, Cade has been afflicted by a major penis fascination. He seizes any opportunity to run around in his underwear so he can have easy access in case he gets an itch. He makes sure to inform us that he has to push "The Guy" down EVERY TIME he goes to the potty to make sure the peepee goes in the pot instead of spraying the bathroom. And after bath, he will run up and down the hall naked grabbing his crotch and screaming "I touch my penis!", inspiring his little brother to follow suit in a nightly Penis Jamboree.

As the lone female in a house full of males, I refuse to be intimidated by The Guy. I keep my cool. I repeat the instructions that while it's fine to touch The Guy, we need to go to the privacy of our own room to do it. I pride myself on my Non Reaction, since to date, this behavior has been strictly the get a rise out of me.

Until today, when Cade informed us (with hands in pants) - "Uh oh! My penis is getting bigger!"

Um. Dad - this one's for you. I've got a dead squirrel to deal with.

More Cade and Drew Isms

The sophisticated (sometimes unwitting) sense of humor that the boys have never ceases to amaze me. A few of my favorites from this week:

Drew (pointing to Aaron's Google tshirt): Is that Gooble, Daddy?

Me: Time to clean up, guys! Let's go!
Cade: A little music would really help me here.

Drew: Come on, Cade!
Cade: Hold on a second. I'll be there in ten minutes.

Drew (looking at pot roast on plate): I don't eat meat, Mommy. I don't even try it.


And my favorites - the ones at my expense:

Me: Come here, Cade!
Cade (walking around with soft drink koozies on his ears): I can't hear you, Mommy! My hearing aids are broken!

Drew: Oh no! Spilled milk on floor! Can you just take care of that, Mommy?