Naptime

One of the things I miss most about my boys as babies is snuggling up with them at naptime. I loved gathering them close, cuddling up under a warm blanket and taking a nice mid-afternoon snooze. I am not a good sleeper, and even a worse napper, but somehow smelling my babies and holding them close, always made me relax enough that I could drift off to sleep.

I will often lay down in the couch in the afternoon to take a breather. Immediately upon my laying down, the boys will run to jump on me, to lay on top of me and to give me hugs. Chris will yell at them to leave me alone, to give me a break. But for some reason, I can't seem to drift off to naptime all alone in my bed in the quiet. I need those sweet boys of mine, cuddling, jumping and hugging, in order to grab a few minutes of naptime slumber.

Damage Control

You do your best to teach your children to be good people, but then you have to send them out into the world where other children get to have their say. And let's just say that some parents can impart some very interesting tidbits upon their kids. Tidbits that they then pass on to your kids.

And then you are left perfecting your best parental damage control.

There is a boy in Brennan's class that I am not too fond of. He is a bit on the wild side, tends to get into a lot of trouble and he makes alot of comments to Brennan that make me want to hit him upside the head.

Last week, he teased Brennan because Brennan admitted that he still had a blankey at home. (Given that I have a blankey at the ripe ol' age of 38, Brennan did not know he was stepping into a kindergarten minefield by admitting he had one.) Brennan came home upset and tearfully asked me if he had to get rid of his blanky soon because they were just for babies. When I assured him he did not, he clutched his blanket and smiled. I told Brennan just to ignore this little boy and if anything to feel sorry for him that he doesn't have a nice soft blanket to make him happy.

This week, the same little boy told Brennan that he hates "fat people." Brennan recounted the conversation for me at bedtime. My stomach clenched with anger, but I managed to keep a straight face when Brennan told me this boy told him that "all fat people are weird".

"And what did you say back Brennan?" I asked, trying hard to let him have his say without my jumping headfirst into my afterschool special lecture of accepting people of all sizes, colors and creeds.

"I told him he was wrong. I said fat people aren't weird. They are just like us. Just with bigger bellies!"

I breathed a big sense of relief. Sometimes, your kids can handle the damage control all on their own.

Early On Set Memory Loss

It's been a busy week or so in our home. Chris had a crazy week at work and was often home well after the boys and I were asleep. We spent most of the week trying to catch up while we stuffed backpacks and made lunches in the morning rush. (In other words, we managed two to three sentences in between running here, there and everywhere.)

After barely seeing each other all week, it was almost surreal that I had to meet Chris in the driveway Friday night. He was on his way home from work and I was waiting for him to arrive home so I could rush off to my tennis league. I swear we should have slapped high five as we passed each other to designate our change of the parental guard.

We were all up way too early Saturday morning to take Aidan and Brennan to a swim meet. As I have mentioned swim meets are crazy, chaotic places. A pool, a gym, a cafeteria filled with kids, parents and coaches rushing to swim, rushing to line up to swim, and rushing to find a warm towel. On top of our trying to navigate each of the boys' swim events (six for Aidan and four for Brennan), we also were responsible for the morning shift at the concession stand. And we had our four year old in tow. (Griffin helped me at the concession stand by taste testing the pizza, the juice, the donuts and the push up lollipops. He's a giver that kid.)

Yes, it was a nice relaxing Saturday morning. Thanks for asking.

The boys did great at the meet. Brennan handled his first 50 yard events (freestyle, breast and backstroke) without a care or a worry. (Although when I told him how proud I was of his bravery, he did whisper to me that he had been a little bit nervous. Oh, I could eat him up with his cuteness.) Aidan was a rockstar swimmer. He won his heat for both breast stroke and freestyle, and took the top time out of all boys 8 and under for freestyle, besting his fastest time by over two seconds. He also did a few 50s and his first ever 100 free.

(Watching those poor young kids do the 100 free is tough. By the third lap, you want to take bets on which one is going to break first and hold onto the rope while screaming for someone to come fish them the hell out of the pool already.)

After our five hour stint at the swim meet, we headed home with our hostages Travis and Lynda, who the boys never wanted to go home. Ever. (While they were trying to leave our house, Brennan asked Travis for one last hug. When Travis went to give him a hug, Griffin and Brennan staged an ambush and grabbed onto each of his legs, refusing to let him leave. Oh, the love of a nephew. It's crazy love.)

On Sunday, the boys had their ski and snowboard lessons. And while many of our friends opted to skip the lesson this week due to the minus 12 below windchill, Chris just laughed at the weather and told the boys to suit up. In layers. Lots and lots of layers. (Frost bite? What frost bite?)

They returned home early Sunday afternoon exhausted. And so we all collapsed on the couch together as a family to watch a movie in comfy (and warm!) pjs under many a blanket.

It wasn't until the movie was over that I realized I had forgotten Brennan had been invited to a birthday party. A birthday party that we had RSVPed yes to attend. A birthday party that had ended all of an hour ago.

The same birthday party that was marked on my calendar and our home dry erase calendar. The same birthday party invitation that was up on the bulletin board in our kitchen.

Yep. That party.

It was fun to call the parents of the birthday girl and explain that I had, well, forgotten all about their party.

Early on set memory loss brought on by insane levels of busyness. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

January Schmanuary

January is one of my least favorite months. It is such a let down after the wonder of the Christmas season to wake up to a month of cold, snow and well, winter. Don't get me wrong, I do love the snow (otherwise why would I live in Buffalo of all places?), but when you look at a calendar of months promising nothing but hibernation (with three very energetic children!), it begins to wear on you.

January, you wear me down.

January is also a month of reflection, of where you are and where you want to go. There is no wrapping or cookie baking or holiday decorating to hide behind. In the starkness of winter, there is nothing but reality to contemplate. And so reality it is.

I hope for some exciting changes in my life this new year. I am working to make it happen. I am also working hard to continue to inspire myself to make it happen. But while most people seem to feel energized to work for change in the new year of January, I just want to curl up in a ball, hide under a soft blanket and read a good romance novel.

Damn you January. I think February will be better.

Marching to His Own Drummer

Brennan tends to live in his own world. From his constant joyful demeanor and endless stream of giggling, it looks like a fairly nice world.

But sometimes, you have to shake your head. Last night I am getting the boys to bed. (Which, now that they can dress themselves, basically involves me yelling out "brush your teeth!" "wash your face!" "get dressed" about a million and one times while they run around the upstairs buck naked trying to hit each other on the butt. I always imagine our neighbors watching us in our giant front window, shaking their heads and just wondering about what goes on in our house behind closed doors. Hell, I'd be wondering if I saw our antics on a replay.)

Brennan starts to get undressed into his pjs, when he stops and starts laughing hysterically.

"Look at me! I have three pairs of underwear on!" He hollers.

We all look. And yes indeed, Brennan somehow got dressed for school in the morning and layered himself into three pairs of underwear.

Brennan isn't quite sure how he did it, but it was definitely an excuse for a nice long dance jumping around in his three pairs of underwear. And then yet another dance in his birthday suit. 'Cause that is just the way Brennan rolls.

And we wouldn't have it any other way.

School Break!

I think one of the things I miss most about being a student is vacation. School holiday breaks are amazing things, aren't they?

The boys loved break. What's not to love? Endless days of playing, relaxing, watching movies? It's all good.

Over the holiday break, I took the boys to my Firm's box at HSBC Arena for the International Junior Hockey Championships. (I have to keep explaining to them that the whole attending a hockey game in a box is not true reality. I think they barely heard me over the unlimited popcorn, chips, drinks and french fries.)






We played a whole lot of Wii. And while I was partial to Just Dance and Glee Karaoke (love!), even the boys took a break from conquering the world in Nerf Gun Elite to Just Dance their sweet little heads off. (They are dancing to Just Like an Egyptian in the pic below. I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard at their antics. I should have taken video.)

We went sledding on "our" sledding hill in Whoville. It is the perfect hill, steep enough for a good ride, but little enough that the boys can hoof it back up, again, again, and well, again. Our toes and noses were frozen, but after they had all the sledding they can handle, we escaped home for hot chocolate with a whole lot of marshmallows. (And maybe just a bit of Mint Bailey's for Mommy.)

And, of course, the boys played a whole lot of legos. Santa brought much legos to our house this year, and the boys got to a-building. Aidan was thrilled with his haul of both the Harry Potter Hogwart's castle and the Harry Potter train.

He busted out the castle and after four hours (FOUR HOURS!) of building and painstakingly following each and every direction, he built that castle. All. By. Himself. It was quite a feat.

At the end of the break, I think we spent most of our time lounging at home, playing games, watching movies and living in our pajamas. There were many days of us basically changing from one set of pjs to another at bedtime. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Even Chewy loved break. Three little boys, at home, loving him up all the live long day. It's good to be the pup!

Hello 2011

We celebrated New Years Eve at a friends' house at a kid friendly party. (A kid friendly party with cosmos and chicken wing dip. Game on.)

We had been at the party for all of ten minutes before my crazy ruffian of children started to wrestle. And during said wrestling match, Griffin ran into the fray with a plastic horn in his mouth. The plastic horn got shoved into the top of his mouth and made a nice giant sized hole.

Oh the blood. There was a whole lot of blood.

Unfortunately, Chris had just left with our host Tony to grab our pizza. That left me with our other host, our sweet friend Justine, to deal with all the blood and all the screaming.

My screaming. Not Griffin's.

Yes. I did not deal with the giant hole, oh so much blood, situation too well. Instead of dealing with the blood or comforting Griffin, I clutched Griffin to me and started to scream at my other two children for roughhousing. As this was a side of me that had never been exposed to our host, let's just hope we get invited back to their house. Odds may not be good.

We got the blood cleaned up and thankfully, shortly thereafter, our dear friends PJ and Danielle arrived. Dr. PJ checked out Griffin's mouth, conferred with a fellow medical friend via phone, and told me Griffin would, indeed, live to see another day. (And eat solid food.) Our hosts promptly made me a very big cosmo and kept it very full for the rest of the evening.

Happy New Year to me.

Griffin has loved having a giant hole in his mouth and has regaled anyone and everyone with the story. Good times.




Otherwise, the evening was lovely. We told the kiddies that ten pm was actually midnight. (Liar, liar, pants on fire.) And after a throwdown of a pillow fight, did a huge ball drop to celebrate.

After my hoarder kids had shoved half the balloons into the car for home, we were home and in bed by 10:45. That's my kind of night out. (Yes, I am not as much fun as I like to think I am.)

We spent New Year's Day in our pjs. It was a day of reading, watching movies, playing games and well, nothing. A whole lot of nothing. It was a perfect beginning to the new year.