LOL OMG BFF ADD

It's not often that I get to spend some time with girls. As you all know, my house is dominated by males. Even the new fish is a male. So, when my nieces were in, I thought it would be fun to have a slumber party. Equipped with a few cheap tiaras, nail polish, and a bag full of sugary goodies, I summoned the girls, Caitlyne and Alexandra to my house.

No party is complete without signs, so I made a few discreet signs to nicely let the boys know they were not welcome. Dylan was sent to my mother's house to sleep over with his cousin, and Mark was sent (kicking and screaming I'm sure) to a party at one of our friend's barns. Yes, you read that right.

Jordan was made an honorary girl for the night, and we got started. After stuffing our faces with s'mores, chocolate, and soda, I spent the next hour applying pink and glittered nail polish to twenty fingers and twenty tiny toes.

Now, before anyone goes thinking that these girls are perfect, little princesses, keep in mind that one of the girls (I won't say who) damn near cleared the living room out with an eye-watering marshmallow fart. And yes, she fluffed the covers for good measure. Ata girl.

Beema

We were at Mark's parent's house last night for our weekly Monday night dinners. After scarfing it down, Jordan went to the living room to play with his toys while Dylan opted to convince Grandma that he needed ice cream. While we sat in the kitchen with Dylan, we could hear Jordan from the living room....

"Beema."

We continue talking, Dylan has his face in the bowl.

"Beema!"

More mindless chatter, slurping of ice cream...

"BEEMA!"

Mark's mom went to see what he was doing. Mark and I had no idea what Jordan was trying to say.

"BEEEEEMMMMAAA!"

So, we asked Dylan what Jordan was saying.

slurp, slurp, "motorcycle," slurp, slurp...

As Mark's mom entered the kitchen again, we asked her what Jordan was playing with.

"A motorcycle, why?"

Of course. Makes perfect sense. We look, and Dylan now has his entire face in his bowl, licking up the remnants of his treat.

The Mandatory Pictures

Jordan was a phenomenal skeleton. I had no face paint, so I used waterproof mascara. It worked well because he couldn't rub it off. Although, we never even showed him what he looked like in the mirror. He would have freaked out.












Dylan wore this frog costume that my mother made about 20 years ago. He wanted to be a scary frog after seeing Jordan, so he ribbit-growled. And yes, the mouth opens so he could see better.






We started trick or treating at 4pm. We got home at 10:30pm. We also had about fifteen pounds of candy in tow. Next week, we will be fifteen pounds heavier.

X Mom

My mom has a nice, long driveway. Perfect for bike riding. I would know.

This great driveway also leads to a pretty busy road. Perfect for squished children. I've heard.

To prevent Dylan from going too close to the road, subsequentially becomming squished, we write "Stop," or "Road Closed" for a fun way to tell him to not go any further. Normally, we park a car there as well...just as another preventative measure.

Dylan was unhappy with this restriction last week, and "missappeared" my signs, and made signs of his own. Later on, he added an "X Mom" to make sure I knew that I was not allowed to touch his signs.

Slowly

I made chicken and sweet potatoes last night for dinner. I used a whole chicken to save a couple bucks, and Dylan was thrilled to be able to watch and learn as I cut the chicken into the 8 typical pieces. Today, he recreated the scene for me in his very own cooking show. As you may guess, he has added a few new steps which were obviously lacking yesterday. For your enjoyment and education. Drum roll please...

Post Lunch Entertainment

Since most people could not view this video on the side of my page, I have to put it here. The quality isn't as good, but at least you can see it now!

I took the video right after lunch (PB&J) when the kids were in a good mood. It was taken with my digital camera (Canon PowerShot A95) - explaining the slight grainy quality. It's also my first try at video editing. Thanks to the direction of Monty, it was not too difficult.

Kryptonite

Yo, Adrian!

Dylan woke this morning, excited to go to school. He informed me that he was going to have a great day. He would listen, sit on the alphabet rug when asked, not act crazy, and not say any bathroom words.

When I got to the school at the end of the day, Dylan's teacher said that she needed to speak to me.

Dylan had gotten into a fist fight. He did not throw the first punch. That bully who's been picking on all the kids from the very first day did. Dylan hit him back, just once, and then went to tell his teacher. His teacher made this bully come over so that Dylan could confront him, and tell how he felt. (The Dylan was MAD!)

I looked over Dylan, and he didn't appear to have any physical injuries. He said the kid punched him in the belly, but it didn't hurt. He later rationalized that it must be because "he's not strong; his Mama cuts the crust off of his sandwiches, and that's where all the vitamins are."

Dylan said (of course) that he hit him back really strong in the belly, like Spiderman.

I am proud of him for defending himself and "using his words" to then express himself.

I won't take any more actions regarding this situation, because the school has called a conference with the bully's parents. If it happens again, though, rest assured that I will have a no-holds-barred with his mother behind her minivan.

Bunny must have drugged 'em

The kids were so good for us this weekend. Dylan was incredible, considering the amount of sugar that was practically fed through his veins via IV. Jordan was good considering he's Jordan.

The kids looked pulled together enough, and cooperative enough that I was able to snap a few pictures. Jordan sat through about 20 pictures without much fuss. Not bad at all.

On Saturday night, Mark and I agreed that we would just hide Dylan's basket instead of doing the whole Easter egg thing.

Well, Sunday morning- Dylan woke, askiong me if there were "eggs.... ALL OVER THE FLOOR?!"

So, while Mark kept the boys busy upstairs, I was hustling to stuff the eggs with jelly beans, and toss them all over. Dylan appreciated it.

We spread our weekend out and covered pretty much each major family sector. It was truly one of the most laid back, enjoyable holidays we've had since the kiddies came about. I still cannot believe how much I ate.

Good Morning!

At Dylan's school, there is a bully. He is your typical school house bully. He's a tad older than all the others, he's much taller, and he looks for kids to pick on. Dylan doesn't like him, meaning- I don't like him, hence- I don't like his mother. I imagine other parents understand this rational thinking.

Anyway, Dylan came home the other day to tell me that this kid kept pulling his own pants down to run around the room with his penis before the teachers could catch him. (Side note: he was suspended for a month after the second incident)

This led Mark and I to a good touch/bad touch talk with Dylan. Nothing too serious, but just to let him know what is not appropriate, and who he should tell. Basically, he learned to say, "Hey, don't touch my penis."

Dylan was good with the conversation. Mark thought he was too young, but I believe we kept it age appropriate. We returned to playing tag and wrestling after this (literally) two minute talk.

The next day at school, Dylan walked through the door, took his coat off, and hung it up in his cubby. As always, he put his name tag on the board and made his way to Miss Sherry and Miss Lori for his morning salutations. On his way, he waves at his friends, and acts like the town mayor. He walked past his best friend, Tyler, saying, "Hey hey, Tyler! Like my new Buzz Lightyear shoes? They have lights when I walk!" As he made his way past the bully, he smiled, waved and said in a very chipper morning attitude, "Hey, buddy! Don't touch my penis." He continued walking to his teachers. The two of them and I could not stop laughing. We agreed that if he could keep saying that until he is married, we'll have no problems.

Mullet over...get it?! Mullet ...oh never mind.

Ralph's barbershop sits in the middle of town, and has been where my grandfathers on both sides have gone for years. Ralph has been the barber for three generations in my family, and yesterday, I decided it was time to pay him a visit- with both boys.

When we first arrived, both boys were perfect. They sat in their seats for about five minutes without so much as a peep. I took a picture. Jordan was actually smiling.

Dylan was looking forward to seeing Ralph. He gets a kick out of the fact that there's "always old people with white hair" there. Jordan had a natural mullet. His hair just grew like that. I like to say that he gets that from his father. Jordan was in desperate need for a hair cut, and knowing his temperment, I was scared for my life. So, I brought my sister, Lauren with me. Luckily for us, she's just as savvy taking pictures as she is watching four year olds.

Predictably, Dylan sat stoic in the seat while Jordan screached at me for not being able to entertain him properly, you know, with crackers and stuff. Dylan was finished quickly, and we all braced ourselves for the wrath of Jordan.

I sat in the hot seat, holding Jordan while Ralph fired up the clippers. Jordan started freaking out. As Ralph made his first run with the clippers, Jordan instantly stopped yelling and squirming.

Oh. My. God.

For the eight of ten total minutes it took for Jordan to be sheered, he sat silent. Once Ralph started using the scissors, Jordan wanted it to be over with.

After Jordan was finished, he stopped being "Jordan." (If you read this blog on a regular basis, and/or know Jordan first hand, you know what I mean.) For the past 36 hours, he has been a normal child. He started to make this weird noise in the car after lunch, (TGIFridays- which he smiled through)and Lauren and I turned to see what was wrong with him, and we realized, he was fake laughing.

Lauren and I decided that he was just so unhappy with his natural mullet, that he screamed (for the thirteen months he's been here) until someone had the friggin sense to chop it off.

Thanks to the magic of cameras, we have documented proof for your viewing pleasure.

First Arrival

Photo: Sarah

Photo: Lauren

Photo: Lauren

Photo: Lauren


Photo: Lauren

Dylan Before (thinking about old people)

Photo: Sarah

Dylan After (obviously unamused with me)

Photo: Sarah

Jordan Before (please note the mullet)

Photo: Sarah

Jordan After

Photo: Sarah

Ah, so kill me. I liked both pictures.

Photo: Sarah

Smile!

"Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times." -Anon

Word of the Day

poo'tafe- (n) another way of saying toothpaste; what you say when you are not quite awake, and are trying to explain to your mother that you don't like the taste of it.

I'll let you all guess the author of that word

Someone get that kid a pie!

It's coming up. There is NO way of denying it. Christmas is a mere 36 and 1/2 days away. Dylan will be visiting Santa at the local mall tomorrow. Early? Yes, but have you ever waited in that line two weeks before Christmas? I don't know how Santa doesn't snap...

Anyway, Dylan asked me to make a list so he can remember what he wants to tell Santa. You may look for yourself. Click on the picture to enlarge.

Now, some explanations:

The second item- lightning shoes are those sneakers that blink when you walk.

The third item- DB is our nickname for Dylan. Note: defensive mother. So what? If I looked as handsome as him, I'd want a picture of myself too!

The second to last item- Dylan took over while I washed the dishes from lunch. I heard him say, "Oh, that's not right, let's try again"

Which brings me to the last item

It says "N 2 PKNPY 2" aka: "And 2 Pumpkin Pies, 2"

The last "2" is to make sure we remember he wants 2 pies.

He really likes pumpkin pie.

Where's My Belt?

Dylan’s pictures came in today. I know that these pictures aren’t supposed to be the best quality, but Dylan’s individual picture is not even in focus. You may also notice that he is also in mid word…say pizza! You know, there is a reason behind the original word “cheese.”

The class picture- half the kids are saying pizza, and the other half is staring blankly. This is Dylan’s “bored” look.

After taking a look at the incredibly expensive pictures, and gushing to Dylan about how awesome they are, the teacher says to me, “Uh, Dylan’s mom, I need to talk to you outside, please.”

I swear- the feeling never goes away. Maybe it’s because I’m not that far removed from school, but when a teacher needs to speak with me in the hall I always get the same reaction. Every time.

I changed my pants and joined her in the hall. She told me that Dylan was uncontrollable today. He refused to sit on the alphabet rug, and got into a fight on the playground. He was also jumping off of chairs at snack time, and was crawling on the ground when it was time to read a book.

Hmm, sounds oddly similar to what I did this morning.

The conclusion I came to: school picture days will ruin your life. Do you all remember the chaos that erupted the day the pictures were taken?

Bagawk!

4:00am, Halloween morning

Dylan: (whispering excitedly) Mama! It's Happy Halloween today!

Sarah: Oh, I know, honey, but it's still kinda dark, so lets get back to...

Dylan: Why did the chicken cross the road?

Sarah: Dylan, honey, it's too early.

Dylan: To get to the other side! HA!

Jordan: (from the boy's room) ahhhh do.

Sarah: Come on, let's get back to bed now.

Yesterday was one of the longest days ever. We did finally get out of bed around 5:30am to start our day. At 9:00am, I dropped Dylan off at school, costume in a bag, ready for later. Jordan and I drove out to Starbucks to waste some time because the parade didn't start until 10am. On the ride back, I realized that they gave me someone else's coffee. We got back to the school, and were soon accomanied by my mom, grandmother, dad, and stepmom. We all watched Dylan the chicken as he bawked through the candy line twice. He made a good chicken. I even taught him how to shake his tail feather.

After the parade, I decided to hang out at the school because Dylan's school ends at 11:30am. No use running out again. So, with Jordan in the stroller, we watched Dylan have his Halloween party. Miss Sherry roped me into doing Halloween Bingo with the kids. There were two tables for bingo. Dylan chose to play at the table headed by Cole's mom. To my surprise, I had a good time playing with the kids. Dylan kept peaking over his feathered shoulder to see how I was making out. I think he regretted going with Cole's mom's table. She wasn't letting them eat their candy corn playing pieces. I did. My kids were fired up. I didn't care, I didn't have to take them home. Muuuuhahahahaha!

(Here's Dylan flapping his wings)

After the party, we all went home to eat lunch (yeah right) and take naps (again, yeah right). Well at least Jordan did. By the time Jordan woke up, Mark was pulling into the driveway. We dressed the kids, and started trick or treating at 3:00pm.

Five hours later, we finished at our family's houses. The boys went to sleep, and I stayed up for some secret eating.

You think it's funny, but it'snot

Think you've had a bad day? Imagine having a runny nose, no way of wiping it yourself, and the only person that can help, is taking a picture of it.

All Sales are Final: No Returns or Exchanges

Jordan is a very tall baby. He has always been this way. He was almost 23" when he was born. For this reason, we have given him the most horrific nickname of "Lurch." We have tried to stop calling him Lurch, but it has really stuck, especially with Dylan. This is besides the point...

Due to Jordan's great height, he is able to reach things that a normal 11 month old shouldn't- the computer mouse, the power button on the T.V., and things that are on the top of our kitchen table. I have yet to decide which is the worst of his abilities. Yesterday he may have decided all on his own. Jordan saw a glass of water on the table, and like any baby, reached for it. He succeeded in reaching it. The glass came flying off the table, shattering (predictably) in a million pieces.

Mark scooped him up from the floor so that he wouldn't step on any of the glass. Dylan freaked out because of the water, and glass, and all the ice... (We knew that was coming). But when we looked over at Jordan, we saw a stream of blood running off of his bare foot. (Insert screams from Dylan about the blood on the floor now) We quickly put his foot under cold water to see how much damage there really was. It was really only a tiny cut on his big toe.

After bandaging Lurch, and thoroughly cleaning the floor- checking it for shrapnel, I sat down with Dylan to try to explain that it's okay to have things out of place, and nothing is horrible about a little spilled water. He was having none of that. In fact, he was so upset that even Jordan was now considered damaged goods. He said to me,"Mama, we have to get a new baby now, this one is dead."

I guess he assumed that when you shoot a deer, it bleeds, and then it is declared dead. The same should therefore apply to babies. Obviously, I told him that Jordan was very much alive and that we were not going to be going out to get any new babies. He told me that he loves babies.

Note: There are many kids at Dylan's school who have little brothers and sisters who come with them when they are being dropped off. Barry (you remember him- the one Dylan kept calling 'Bear in the Big Blue House') is a little kid in school, who has a baby sister. The family also happens to be one of the only black families in the area. Dylan just loves the baby.

Dylan explained to me, because I obviously wasn't getting the point: "Well, this one (pointing at Jordan) cries because he is broken, Mama. Maybe we can get a new brown baby!"

It's a honey of an "O"

All parents mess with their kids. Seriously. We do it all the time. The only difference between us and all the other parents, is that we document those special times. This was taken a few days ago. Mark, Jordan, and I all finished our dinners, and were patiently waiting for Dylan to finish. Jordan became a bit antsy, so we fed a fudgcicle to him. Once he finished, I went to kiss him and our faces stuck together. I did what any rational human being would do. I stuck Cheerios to his face. Mark and I thought it was a riot. Dylan, on the other hand, thought it was disgusting. Once he saw the Cheerios, he started to gag. As many of you know, he does not have a strong stomach at all. He is also quite the perfectionist. "Food," he said, "doesn't belong on Jordans." Ever since the incident, Dylan gags everytime he sees Cheerios.

Oh no...

It's too quiet downstairs. This morning I was upstairs getting ready for a full day of running around, studying, and work. While I am upstairs, I can normally hear the usual: "Don't touch that, Jordan,""Leave me alone,""Stop smiling at me," and "Aaagooo." These phrases are normally accompanied by thumps, scrapes, and crashes. When this happens, I come downstairs in all shapes of disarray. This is a source of amusement to the older gremlin. Today, however, I heard the most terrifying thing ever. Nothing. Absolute silence.

I ran down the stairs so damn fast that I think it could have been considered hovering. When I got to the boys, I was stunned to see what I had never, EVER seen them do before. They were hugging each other as they watched Baby Einstein. I was sure that no one would believe me, so I got proof.