Isaac the Robot

Isaac is our funny one. He is the typical middle child seeking attention and trying to make everyone laugh. He is also small so that makes him even more funny.

The other day we were picking up the downstairs living room and Isaac was doing his usual--the I'll move around so you think I'm working but I'm really just picking stuff up and putting it back down again. Chris catches on and tells Isaac to get moving. Here's the conversation that followed:

Isaac: Daddy, I have a switch on my back that makes me move really fast and pick stuff up.

Daddy: Really? Well, turn it on and let's go.

Isaac: I can't. It's broken. (pretends to flip a switch up and down on his back then shrugs his shoulders)

Daddy: I have a Mr. Pop fixer that can make it work. (Mr. Pop is our wooden spoon used for spanks--admittedly hasn't been used in a loooongg time which is probably why Isaac showed no fear. Chris taps Isaac on the arm with Mr. Pop.)

Isaac: That made it work a little bit. (fiddles with "switch") Nope. Still broken.

Daddy: Here. Let me try that again a little harder. (walks toward Isaac)

Isaac: It's working! (flips switch, makes engine noise, picks up toy and runs upstairs)

Pringles are yummy, but not this kind

Today I came home from eating lunch with my math man husband and kids around 12:45 pm. Mary has fallen asleep in her car seat so I send the boys upstairs to play quietly while I go put her in her crib. When I walk into the living room I see something scurry under the TV console.



Yes, scurry.


I set Mary down and go to investigate. It's a frog. A yucky, disgusting frog. I quickly grab the phone and call my dad. He's a great critter catcher. Ask him about bats and geckos---he has stories about both. Anyway, I ask him to come over and catch it. He laughs and says to use a cup. I don't have a cup so I grab a semi-empty Pringles can, dump the chips in the sink, and approach the frog. I take one step towards the slimy thing and it HISSES at me! I start screaming---my dad is still on the phone and is laughing. He assures me that the frog can't see me it can only sense movement. Well, since I am shaking and screaming I am pretty sure he knows exactly where I am at. I corner the ba#$^&d and lunge forward with the Pringles can. I catch him but his leg gets caught when I put the lid on so I have to open the can and put the lid on again. Sigh.



Now, it's time to be a cool mom and so I call the boys downstairs to look at it. Isaac thinks he is just going to see chips in the Pringles can and jumps backwards when the frog jumps inside the can. Luke asks if we can keep it for a pet. "Cool! It'd be so cool to have a frog pet!" "No."

I release the sick thing outside and give it stink eye because I now hear that Mary is awake and crying.

Ode to my sister

My sister Sarah is amazing.

She is a phenomanal Assistant Principal at TWO schools. I don't know how she does it but somehow she is able to give both schools 100%. She must have super powers that give her an extra 40 hours a week so that both schools have her full-time attention instead of 50/50 attention. She loves her job and it shows in all she does.

She is an exceptional mommy. Margs is the only almost 2-year old that will sit quietly and read to herself for 20 minutes at a time. That is a direct result of my sister instilling the love of reading in her daughter at an early age. Her nursery is even decorated after one of Sarah's favorite books. The Margs also is a good eater. Coming from a mom of a bad eater, this is quite the feat. Margaret eats blackberries, ham, cucumbers--if it's on a salad bar, the big M eats it.

She is a fantastic housekeeper. I can drop by at a moment's notice and there is never a speck of unfolded laundry, random shoes, or toys laying about in her house. She has told me that she bleach cleans her bathrooms on a regular basis. I have done that maybe twice. She is the ultimate organizer. Her cabinets are amazing. Not a thing out of place. She has even come over to my house and organized closets for me--and enjoyed it! Her house is beautifully decorated and feels "lived in" at the same time.

She has the strength, courage, and faith of no one I know. My little sister has been through quite a lot in the past couple months and has risen above it all. Her faith in God and trust in His will is both something I am in awe of and something I desire in myself.

I know that most times you see the younger sister looking up to the older sister but in my family it is the opposite. My little sister is out-of-this-world amazing and I look up to her.

Regular Clothes Where Art Thou?

OK, it's been 5 months since I had my darling Mary. I am still wearing maternity clothes. Shouldn't I be back in my size 5's by now? (for those of you laughing, I'll kick you in the shin when I see you next) I realize that with each pregnancy your body stretches out more and your organs move around but for real, this much? I know you can't compare with your friends but I know for a fact that my friend Noelle was back in her size 6 clothes one week after having Ella. Now before you all start posting "Oh Rebekah, you look fine" let's truly analyze the situation.

1. I weigh more today than I did after I had the baby. I attribute this to my continuing to eat as though I was pregnant even though I wasn't and the "you need more calories when you are nursing" thing they tell you. I'm guessing you don't need an extra person's worth of calories--am I right?

2. I still prefer maternity clothes to regular clothes. I blame this on the clothing makers. They have made maternity clothes trendy and cute--not hideous tents like before. I can actually wear my maternity capris and jeans and they look like regular clothes--as long as you don't look at the waistband. Lucky for me, I can't tuck a shirt in to save my life so the waistband is always covered.

3. My maternity clothes are cuter than my regular clothes. Ask my sister---she'll be blunt and tell you. My regular clothes suck. I look more in-style when I am pregnant than when I am not. So, I look at my closet and the cutest things to wear all have tags in them that read, "Duo" or "Motherhood" or "Liz Lange".

4. My top half is obscenely large. I think boobs are gross anyway and then to have them big is even more gross. I can't get a top to fit me for anything. Thank goodness the flowy shirts are still in style or else I'd be in a cut off muu muu.

It was all worth it though--Mary is wonderful and I would gladly gain double the weight to have her.

OK, there is my rant on my body. I started Weight Watchers last week and lost 5.4 pounds. I am on my way back--watch out regular clothes, here I come!

Homebound

Luke has pink eye. http://www.kidshealth.org/parent/infections/eye/conjunctivitis.html

It is brutal. Not on him, but on me.

I have been home with a perfectly fine feeling 6-year old for 3 days now---plus a 4-year old and 5 month old. But, we can't go out to shop or see friends or family because of the darn pink eye. Highly contagious. So, that means that I was out of the house for about 20 minutes on Sunday, 3 hours on Monday, and 10 minutes today. (Yes, on Mother's Day I was home and not at church enjoying the celebration of all things mothers. My husband made up for it though by letting me take a nap that afternoon while he wrangled kids.)

Luke is happy as a clam to play all day in the play room and come downstairs for the occasional snack, meal, and TV time. I, however, enjoy the days he is at school for 3 hours and the house is minus a kid. I am getting a big preview of what the 3 months of summer are going to be for me and I'm starting to cry.

9:45 Questions

Last night we joyfully celebrated the end of the soccer season with a party at Chuck E. Cheese. For those of you groaning right now at your memories of CEC---I am right there with you. I hate that place. Kids love it. Adults hate it. And yet, we keep subjecting ourselves to terrible pizza and an overcrowded game room that is teeming with germs and possible child abductions. But, I digress.....

I left Chris and the boys at the party at 7 p.m. so I could get Mary in bed. The boys arrive home around 8 and Chris reinstates himself as my knight in shining armour. He has gone to Chick-Fil-A to buy real food for me and him to eat since, although we paid for it all, we won't eat CEC pizza.

After dinner we quickly plunk the boys into a bath to attempt to wash off the inevitable cold viruses, stomach flu, and pink eye that they have unknowingly contracted while having a great time at the party. We get them into bed around 8:45 (lots of scrubbing in the tub).

Fast forward to 9:45. It's quiet in our house. Chris and I are watching our TiVoed Office episode and down the stairs comes Luke. Here's how the conversation goes---by the way, background info on Luke is that he LOVES bandaids and tries to find anything on himself that warrants one.

L: "Hey Mommy, I got a question for you."
M: "OK, what is it?"
L: "What color is a scab?"
M: "Brown."
L: "Great. OK, Daddy, this one is for you. What color is a boo boo?"
D: "Red."
L: "OK, then what is this?"

At this point he shows us a red mark on his leg that probably once had a scab on it but doesn't anymore and isn't bleeding but still has that pink tint to it.

M: "That is a boo boo that once had a scab but now it is all better. Get in bed."
L: "OK."

Then he walks to the bottom of the stairs, makes his fingers in the shape of a gun, and does that funny gun point shake thing and says, "See ya later" then walks up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Baseball Ready

My son Luke plays baseball for the Longhorns---the 5-6 year old NAYA baseball team in Watauga. My husband has realized this season that some of the kids on Luke's team are, shall we say, more advanced in the sport than Luke. Luke does great, don't get me wrong, but those kids are really good. Especially this kid named Toby. He is really good. Anyway, Toby's mom told us that he watches baseball on TV all the time. Toby is also almost 7 and has an older brother who plays baseball and this is Toby's 3rd season playing. All that to say, Chris sat Luke down tonight to watch the Cubs vs Cardinals game. It started out great. Luke watched while Chris quizzed him on where to throw the ball when the batter hit. He paused the TV so we could watch the batter swing level. He talked about when to throw to first or second base depending on who was on what base. I actually learned stuff, but I was bored so I got up to make brownies. That's about when Luke's interest in baseball ended and his interest in cooking took over. (I blogged on how my boys love to cook with me!) He put on his chef hat and apron and helped me make brownies while his dad sat defeated in the living room.

I felt real bad about cooking trumping baseball so I enticed Luke back to the couch with a snack and some milk. Back into baseball. Then, the questions started.

Luke: "Daddy, that pitcher isn't very good is he?"
Chris: "He's actually really good, Luke."
Luke: "Well, when he throws the ball no one ever hits it."

Then my favorite.

Luke: "Who is that guy?"
Chris: "He's (insert some Japanese Cubs player's name here)."
Luke: "Where's he from?"
Chris: "He's from a country named Japan."
Luke: "Oh!! Like Woody, Jesse, and Stinky Pete were going to!!"
Chris: (defeated) "Yes."

So, needless to say, Chris didn't really enjoy his couch coaching this evening but I really enjoyed listening to it from the other room!!

Noggin 2.0

Remember how I wrote about Noggin and those in-between shows all being British? There is one about a womery where the British kids put worms in a bottle and sand and some other junk and look at them. Dumb. Anyway, today Chris and I were working in the yard and lo and behold up walks Luke with a bottle and sand and some other junk and two worms. He says, "Look Mommy! Just like on Noggin!" Great.