Rock-a-bye and goodnight...well sort of

I remember my sweet friend Lisa Bailey as one of the best mentor moms our MOPS groups has ever had. She was full of wonderful advice that first year of my mothering life and she still is as I've entered my sixth year of parenthood. One thing she said fully sticks in my memory and I bring it out often. We always talk about the first time our child smiled, laughed, crawled, pulled up, walked, talked, rode a bike...and the list infinitely goes on. But Lisa reminded me to think of the lasts as well.

I think we get so busy in our lives that all the sudden we look at them and think...when was the last time I got up him 5 times during the night? Or when was the last time he held my hand walking somewhere other than a forced hold in the parking lot or busy mall? Those "last" milestones just sort of morph into the fog of time....or do they? They don't have to, if we are consciously aware of things and try to cherish the fleeting moments. I've not written down as much as I should, but that's one way we can remember things.

A couple nights ago we spent the evening with good friends. Enjoyed great food, even better company and then I sat and watched and laughed as Z jumped, wrestled and laughed loudly as four teenagers included Z in their fun and games. They were careful with him, but he was ready to rumble and kept forcing them down on the trampoline, sitting on them, rough housing and throwing the football...oh and that infectious laughter, I just soaked up. When we got home, he was exhausted. A good thing many would say...but for Z it means his attitude quickly deteriorates into an "I hate everything" mantra and his behavior travels downhill at the speed of light. That's no exaggeration; promise!

Right in the the midst of this, I called him into our room to try to reset him so he could go to sleep without having to "cry it out." I was sitting in the rocking chair that I used to spend hours in when he was a baby (even though we did spend more time bouncing on an exercise ball since that calmed him more then) I told him his attitude and behavior were unacceptable and he needed to apologize straight away. His daggers quickly softened and he tipped his head slightly down and very quietly said he was sorry for being bad. I reached out to hug him and he put his arms around my neck and then as if the mood were just too serious for him, he lifted his feet off the ground to hang from my neck and started giggling. I scooped him up, all nearly 4-feet of him. I had his head in the bend of my left arm and the rest of him slung across my body with his knees resting on the opposite arm of the rocking chair.

He was wiggling and trying not to be comfortable. So I started whispering to him, telling him about when I used to rock him as a baby, sing to him, stroke his face, then sit for a long time wondering if he was asleep enough to lay down (lifting his arm up and seeing if it dropped like a lead weight or if it still had some pull to it was a good test). His eyes fluttered and he pretended to be falling asleep as I rocked. Then out of nowhere, he jumped off my lap and stood sleepily in front me giggling. I pouted and said oh don't you want me to rock you to sleep tonight? He said yes and we both laughed. So I did; I rocked him to sleep...stroked his face, held him tight, did the arm test...didn't keep rocking nearly as long as I used to because well...he's a bit heavier now at 48 pounds! The whole time I was thinking "will this be the last time we do this?" If so I have to remember it. I need to remember it.

Love is such a strange thing sometimes. When it feels the best, the next second it breaks you and hurts you to love that much. I was so grateful for the moment and yes, that's all it was - a moment.

As I got up and navigated getting his long body through the door frames and into bed, I was surprised he stayed asleep. I put him down super gentle, or so I thought ugh. As soon as his head touched the pillow, his eyes popped open. I had a brief time travel moment in the mind of his babyhood and screamed silently, but at this age he can actually talk instead of cry and he started babbling all sorts of nonsensical stuff. I knew he was sleep talking, confusional arousal, whatever. But then he completely woke up and started talking about a flap of skin on his toe that I MUST clip off immediately or he would not be able to sleep. He was frantic. We got that taken care of and he curled up on his side and asked me to turn on his series of night lights that have become part of his sleep routine....1. Rainbow in my Room 2. alien glow light 3. dinosaur glow light that changes colors 4. slow-moving disco ball type light with colors 5. Twilight Turtle blue stars only, please 6. Thank goodness Moon in My Room needs batteries right now. Add the classical music and we're ready to sleep. OH MY GOODNESS, there is no way that all that mess would help me fall asleep, but for him it's like nyquil so whatevs right?

Oh and I can't believe the thought of selling that rocking chair because it didn't match our bedroom furniture anymore ever, ever, ever entered my head. I will never sell that precious thing!

Love/Hate the Toms

Yesterday Z tried on a pair of Toms at the mall...said he loved them, they fit good, etc. I was pretty sure the girl working there wasn't fitting him properly since she never even made him put his foot down to feel his toe. Anyway, I made him walk around...he said I love these shoes, can we get them? SURE! I love the way Toms gives a pair of shoes to a child who needs shoes for every pair they sell.

So we walked out with a black pair and some no-show socks...since I've been told they get extremely stinky if you wear them barefoot. Z wanted to wear his new shoes to church, so I handed him the socks....and the protest began. The shoes were pretty snug with the sock on and he did not hesitate to gritch and moan about it. I said fine...put them back in the box; I'm taking them back. He screamed NO! It was one of the classic arguments we have...he doesn't want to wear/eat/do something but when you suggest the opposite action, he gets way out of line and doesn't want to wear/eat/do that either and then you're stuck there in limbo land.

To shorten the already too-long story, there was a lot of yelling, seat kicking, screaming and tears over those blasted shoes...David called them bloody shoes and Z yelled through sobs, insisting the shoes didn't have any blood on them. At one point, he hugged them and told me they were NOT getting returned. Oh my goodness, it was a no-win for all of us. I told him if he didn't chill out, we were going straight home...and yes, that's what we ended up doing. The screaming got louder as we passed the church and didn't stop. I told him as soon as we got home, he was to go to his room and I would bring him his supper there and that his day was now over.

Who knew Tom's could evoke such emotion...and make a kid scream that he was no longer your kid, no longer your friend and that you are the meanest mommy ever and that he is never going to talk to you again? Of course, right after he said he wasn't going to talk to me anymore....he kept talking....

The White House

It's been a big week of ups and downs in Montessori land. Tuesday started out pretty crappy when Z got pink slipped for sticking his tongue out and trying to hit a few of the new kids at school. I took him home, sat him down, read him the note and then asked him why he did those things...went a little something like this:

Z: I don't know

Me: Well then you need to think about it and give me a reason because you don't just do that stuff for no reason.

Z: Well, umm those new kids were bothering me.

Me: How were they bothering you?

Z: they were hitting me..and they were bonking me on the head like this (he started hitting his own head) and poking me like this (he started poking his own eyes) and they were spanking my bottom like this (yes, he spanked himself)

Me: Oh okay, and who were the kids doing that to you?

Z: I don't remember

Me: Well even if the kids are doing that, it doesn't mean you hit back or stick our your tongue...did you tell your teacher about all this abuse?

Z: YES

Me: Okay, well mommy and daddy have to write a response and sign this note so I'm going to write down exactly what you told me. Can you give me some kids names to write down so they'll know who was bothering you

Z: no

Me: Why

Z: cuz (hanging head) no one was doing that to me

Me: Okay go to your room, there will be no playing with friends tonight and now no TV because you lied to mommy

Z: screaming, crying, stomping ...but going to his room

In about 5 minutes he told me he was ready...ready for what, I said. Ready to tell the truth, he said. So in doing so, he thought that would remove his consequences...BEEP....wrong answer :) More screaming/crying...but in the end, he found plenty to do without friends and TV.

Fast forward to Wednesday at pick up time....teacher tells me how amazingly smart Z is...how she thinks he could be the president someday (I wouldn't wish that on any kid). So on the way home I told him that the president lives in the White House.

Z: I know that

Me: So if you live in the White House, can I live there too?

Z: Sure, but you have to dress up really pretty every day to live in the White House.

Conversation flowed to other things but then after we'd been home awhile I asked him if I was dressed nice enough to be at the White House....

Z: well, yes, but there's no orange allowed in the White House!

Me: WHAT? NO ORANGE...but WHY?

Z: because it's too pretty for the White House, but black is okay to wear there.

So there you have it folks...OSU is too good for the White House (at least that's my interpretation of the conversation :))

This morning when he woke up, first thing he said as he was stretching and yawning "Mommy, I don't think I want to live in the White House." I told him that's just fine but asked him why he changed his mind. He said "because I don't like white." Hmm okay, fine with me. He then said he needed to live in Texas or Oklahoma and would I live there with him...ummm DUH!

The Cup

I know, I know; I really need to catch up my blog. I think that's always the case. I still need to write about Z's 5th birthday celebrations; yes there were several! (For some reason, I'm in a heavy semi-colon use mood; but I digress).

This past weekend was pretty full...started out Friday evening with 2 hours of open bounce at Air-Time Inflatables. Since David is still recovering from double hernia repair surgery; I ended up being Z's playmate in the inflatables and he was in pure boy, wrestle-mania mode. Wow, I was tired and bruised haha! So you'd think that would expel most of his pent up energy, right? Not even close! We headed to Dick's Sporting Goods to pick up the supplies Z will need for tee-ball. I really don't remember my softball days being this expensive?!?! We pretty much got the cheapest of everything...bat, cleats, socks, glove, extra tee-balls to play catch and somehow the sales associate convinced me Z needs sliding pants. Oh and let's not forget the cup. I can finally say it without blushing. I don't know why it's embarassing to talk about...probably because I never had to think of such things growing up in a house of girls! I know that item is on the list of football equipment we have to have this fall, so I figured I'd ask if he needed it...the teenage sales guy turned red when I mentioned it and said he wouldn't need that for tee-ball...but since we had to get one for the fall, it might not be a bad idea to get him used to wearing it.

So there we are...on a isle of, you guessed it...just cups....me...Z...teenage sales dude....oh and lortabbed David, who was clearly letting me do all the talking ugh. I had no clue what to pick, so sales dude did the research and came up with a bright yellow one labeled, and I'm not kidding, "Pee Wee." Are you serious? Anyway...Z was asking him what all those things were and sales dude also let me be the talker...I said "Oh Z, we've talked about this...it's the cup that you will have to wear for football...and maybe tee-ball." So Z looks right at embarassed sales dude and says point blank "Oh, is this to protect my (insert correct name of male anatomy here...I won't type it because for some reason it makes my blog ads a little more than G-rated.)" Sales dude was very embarassed, beet red, etc. by that point and he just chuckled and said well...yeah. Never thought sports would be so weird...but I guess, here we go....into the male world...someone save me!!!!!

The Eve of All Things Z

So here we are...on the eve of it all...he turns 5 tomorrow. Wow, how is that even possible? It feels like we've been barreling toward this moment for such a short time...and yet, so much has happened in 5 years.

I've noticed a lot of maturity in him lately, mixed in with a lot of immaturity of course. But we're starting to have logical conversations and he's aware that he's got some responsibilities now. Progress...for him. I find myself very emotional this week. It's like we are on the cusp of true childhood, as school years begin and life changes so rapidly and innocence begins to wain. I want him to grow up; I just don't want it going this fast!

I love that he still wants to cuddle; he still wants to hold my hand; he still wants me to read him stories. I love that he seems to constantly say "Mommy?" then wait for me to say "yes?" and then say "I love you mommy." He does it so many times a day that I've sometimes rolled my eyes, but I love it and I would never ask him to stop.

So I'm taking off work Thursday and Friday and we are going to celebrate this birthday stuff rock-star style. Tonight we go pick up Z cookies and take them to cubbies for his friends. Tomorrow more cookies go to school and he gets to be in the middle of the Montessori circle at 10 a.m. in all his fivey-glory....clad in an orange shirt with a huge "5" on the front. After that I'm taking him to a local fire station he was invited to and he'll get the royal visitor treatment. Then I have to take a birthday break and go to MOPS, where I'll probably cry because I'm away from him on his birthday!

Friday is picture day. We are so excited as it's going to be so warm...Z has never been able to have outside pics for his yearly milestones; it's just always been too cold and snowy. But this year, yes....60s, baby! Then maybe a movie or something on Friday. Saturday afternoon is the big bouncy birthday party at AirTime with 20 of his closest friends and probably the coolest Despicable Me birthday cake of all time. Whew, I'm getting tired just thinking of it all!

Vday at the Q!

Picked up Z from sugarland...err Montessori valentine party...yesterday afternoon and knew his gymnastics coach was in for a great evening of corn-syrup, red dye-induced fun! I about freaked out when I saw a jug of red fruit punch sitting by the school door. Eyes huge, I looked at my little bundle of conversations hearts and said "Um...please tell me you did NOT drink that stuff today."

Z: I did not drink it mommy, it has red dye and I can't have red dye and we are not allowed to have that at our school. (hey at least he knows he can't have hyper dye whew, we are learning).

Apparently some little girls' mom thought that stuff would add a lot of fun to a party for 3 to 5 year olds...we have a lot of work to do folks (channeling Jamie Oliver now), but I digress. The teachers made her take it home and never gave a drop to the kids...whew. But some candy here, a cookie there...and oops where did those red sprinkles come from...CRAP! If you're kids get overly hyper, I challenge you to look at the food dyes and the high fructose corn syrup they are consuming. Call me a paranoid quack or whatever you want, these things DO make a difference in many children's hyperactivity and behavior....especially my Z. He cannot tolerate red dye, period.

So off to gymnastics we went. I warned coach Raleigh that Z may be a little distracted and crazy, but that we'd talked about trying to control the mouth and body even when you feel like going nuts!! He wasn't deterred and said it was better for the boys to have too much energy than not enough. I think the boys have really grown on Raleigh; he does such a good job with them and they seem really attached and impressed by his crazy strength. Have to add that he put on quite a show for them, hoisting himself like a flag from the door frame, defying gravity and telling them which muscles had to be strong to do that. The boys were flabbergasted and couldn't stop talking about it all night.

We hit Q'doba after gymnastics with the Campbells. Zachary and Andrew have become pretty good friends and they enjoy hanging out. Didn't realize till we got there it was BOGO kissing night...kiss your sig. other and you get a free entree...sooo stinking crowded, but a really fun promotion no less. So we kissed in front of the cashier....Z and Andrew were being entertained by several firefighters who happened to be there. I think the guys were getting a kick out of the boys.

Z kept going over to their table and telling them all kinds of interesting information about a fuse that's freaking out in our car causing the climate control lighting to blink every once in awhile. He was holding court as usual...with them and with the people at the next table. He commands an audience most everywhere we go and I rarely know whether to try to stop him and apologize or just let him fly. I think the look on the spectator's faces usually helps me figure out when to pull him back...most of the time they get a kick out of it...but some people are just bumps on logs and apparently don't like kids...their loss :)

Firefighters told Z and Andrew they need to come by the station....think we'll do just that on Z's birthday because by my calculations, they'll be on duty again that day!

Getting "Weddinged" again!

Ah yes, Feb. 13, 2011. According to Z mommy and daddy got "weddinged" again. Our church put together a vow renewal service and we were one of more than 40 couples to participate. We decided to make a pretty big deal of it and really solidify some things between us. It was healing, emotional and just so much darn fun.

The fun actually started last Wednesday on the way home from church. I started to explain it all to Z and get ready for the flurry of questions...and yes, there were lots. I told how mommy and daddy were going to basically "get married again." He couldn't figure out why that was necessary and kept saying they we already got "weddinged"and why would we need to do it again. I told him that he wasn't around to see if the first time and this would just reassure him that mommy and daddy really love each other and we are promising to keep our family together. Then I asked him if he'd walk me down the isle to daddy. I got a little resistance because he wanted to know how many people would be watching him. Once we reassured him we'd be walking with lots of people, he was fine with it and said "Oh yes, mommy; I'll walk you down there to daddy and I'm going to wear my best shirt and my best pants...from my sweat pants drawer." Ummm sweet, but NOO no sweatpants and a wedding dude...just wrong on so many levels. I told him we'd worry about what he would wear later.

I thought well, he's almost 5, he needs a suit and tie anyway...so yeah, went to Burlington and bought him one. Pants were huge, but the jacket covered it. Shoes were too big, we stuffed the toes with tissue paper! Got David a new suit too (guised as a valentine's present) Pants didn't fit, but the jacket worked and maybe no one could tell. My new dress was too big on top and I had to throw a black cami on last minute since we were in church afterall! Shelby Potter came over to do my hair and she rocked it...even got my grandmother's broach in there! Stupid last minute nylons were twisted so I had to make a last minute leg shaving trip before we FINALLY got to the church!

All lined up and ready to go...kids all around as the brides got ready to meet the grooms in the isle and then it happened. "MOMMY, I have to go potty BAD!" Like really? Right now? Right when we are going to walk down the isle. Other ladies were telling him to run outside and do it in the grass. He as appalled and just couldn't. I told him he'd have to hold it...and right then Kevin Cox said "Hey Z, when you get done walking your mom in...come back here and I'll take you to the potty!" OH thank you God in heaven, this kid's gonna be an excellent dad someday! So then we walked in...and Z walked back out...and I just prayed he found his way back to Kevin and ultimately Lily Sauteben who was so gracious to let him sit with her during the ceremony. Once we were reunited at the reception, Z handed me an offering envelope he'd kiped from the pew to draw on. I almost cried when I saw what he'd drawn -- a picture of Me, David and him...all holding hands, all smiling. He was so proud of himself...little cheeks turning red, dimples flashing...wow, I was so in love with my little family at that moment! My how God has blessed us; I mean really blessed us!

Once we got home, I asked Z which one in the picture was him...thinking it was the small one on the left. But he said no..."I'm the one in the middle and you guys are both holding my hands...and I'm swinging up and down and then I'm flipping over..."