Letter to "Mayzie"

Dear Mayzie,

I took care of Your child for over six years, with out so much as a thank you, so you could go play. Faithfully I nurtured your child, carefully, tenderly and gently I watched over him. At times is wasn't much fun, and the older he got, the angrier he got, and he took it all out on me, because I was and am unconditionally faithful to him. I volunteered in his classrooms year after year, struggled with him over homework, taught him a love for books, and worked to instill a set of positive values in him, the difference between right and wrong. When he showed interested in basketball we paid for it, and took him to practice, went to all of his games, when he showed interest in playing the saxophone, we paid for it and went to all his concerts. We supported him, held him accountable for his actions. I took my responsibility seriously, the responsibility of raising Your child.

"Sighed Mayzie, a lazy bird hatching an egg: "I'm tired and I'm bored and I've kinks in my leg from sitting, just sitting here day after day. It's work! How I hate it! I'd much rather play! I'd take a vacation, fly off for a rest if I could find someone to stay on my nest! If I could find someone, I'd fly away-free..."

We raised him with out an ounce of financial support from you. We took him in, or maybe I should say, you dropped him off without notice at our door step (with his then teenage sister and huge dog), and we did not question for a moment keeping him with us and protecting him. Even though we were young and not even contemplating children of our own at the time. You never supported us ever in raising Your kid, in fact you filled his head with lies. You told him we took him and decided to raise him, acted as if you had nothing to do with it, put the blame on us, just like you do with everything, blame someone else. You encouraged him to be disrespectful to me, talked bad about me to him and in front of him. You were openly disrespectful to me, in my home many times, with him standing right there. When he would come home from visiting you it would take days to get the "real boy" back. After a few years, you decided to become the weekend parent, still a deadbeat if you ask me, and he started to put you on a pedestal, because you were now the fun one. I was the one enforcing homework and respectful behavior. Teaching discipline and morals. Dealing with the multiple calls a week from his school about his behaviour, one parent teacher conference after another. Advocating for him while not make any excuses for his behavior. I cried many times at night for him, because I knew he was acting out the anger he felt inside, of being abandoned by you. I had to face the fact that no matter how much I loved him, I wasn't his mom, and he just really wanted you. I couldn't blame him for that. Even though I know what kind of a person you really are. How horribly you treated him the first seven years of his life, it is a faded, barely audible memory for him. It hurt me deeply to see our relationship deteriorate as he got older and harder to deal with. All the hate he would direct towards me at times, I wanted to scream, "why are you taking it out on me?" But I knew why, because I, unlike you, have been there for him since the day he was born. There is safety in that.

"I meant what I said and I said what I meant...an elephant's faithful one hundred per cent!"

Even though he started resenting living with us I faithfully pushed forward, doing what you had left us to do. The regular every day stuff of raising a child. We often had to rush from Monday to Friday in a blur, just to have him go spend the weekend being brainwashed by you, and being allowed to do what ever he wanted, a two day free for all, then crash, back to reality. Rarely getting to do anything fun with him because you started taking him on all weekends, holidays and most school breaks. Fun, fun, fun, for you, didn't want to dirty your hands doing the actually work of parenting. I admit my hatred for you has grown, I try hard to pretend that it's not there, even attempt to be civil to you for the sake of family, but I can't stand the very sight of you, your voice makes my heart race, my head hurt. As I have sat here raising your child, losing sleep, putting my all in to it, you have been out partying, having a grand time, living like you have no responsibilities, living in a dream world were every body owes you something.

"And, dawdling along way up high in the sky, who (of all people!) should chance to fly by but that old good-for-nothing bird, runaway Mayzie! Still on vacation and still just as lazy."

Now you have decide after 6 1/2 years that you want to be a "mom" again. I am assuming this is mainly due to the fact the you have no man in your life right now, and because he is old enough to take care of the day to day basics on his own.

" 'But it's MINE' screamed the bird, when she heard the egg crack. (the work was all done. Now she wanted it back.) 'It's My egg!' she sputtered. 'you stole it from me! Get off of my nest and get out of my tree!'
Poor Horton backed down with a sad, heavy heart..."

You take him back. Just like that. In our lives then, poof, gone. No notice, once again. I tell you some different things that I have figured out about Jacob and what needs to happen concerning school and such, you tell me you know your son better then I do, and that you aren't going to have the same problems with Jacob, insinuating that he gets his negative behaviors from being raised by me, that he won't act this way with you. You know how to parent.

Then you call me the other day, because the "honeymoon" period is over, and school is in full swing again, to complain about the way Jacob is behaving, and to tell me that although we have not seen him in months, he probably won't be able to come visit us, because of his behavior. Even though I miss him with every fiber of my being, I support you in this, because I always wanted you to support me in my parental decisions. Which seems to disappoint you, I think you just wanted an argument, wanted to hear the hurt in my voice. I won't give that to you. I do ask you to consider if this will help repair your relationship with him or hinder it, which you only get offended by. You went on to complain about the very things you scoffed at when I tried to talk about them to you, and to complain that he argues his point with you, has a voice, has a brain, stands up for himself, all things I admire (although admit are frustrating at times) and you can't stand. You tell me he is talking in a baby voice to you and you are going to put an end to it, I tell you that I think he is just working out some hurt, and you act all offended that I would say such a thing, as if you didn't abandon your child for years upon years. As if you didn't reject him even as a baby. As if you haven't always put your need above the very most basic needs of your children. You are, and I know now you always will be, in denial. You have created enormous amounts of pain for all three of your children, but admitting that would mean you would have to take a long hard look at what kind of a person you are, and you don't want to do that.

"But at that very instant, the egg burst apart! And out of the pieces of red and white shell, from the egg that he'd sat on so long and so well, Horton the Elephant saw something whizz! It had ears and a tail and a trunk just like his!"

He achieved more while living with us then your other two children were able to achieve living with you, much more. He is an amazing child. Brilliant. Deserving of a better mother then you. You want to blame all his issues on me, but you refuse to acknowledge the positive attributes that were instilled in him by me. He is a lot like me now, the good and the bad, and I know you can't stand that.

I hope that what I worked so hard to teach him will stick with him, during these next years with you and I hope, I dearly hope that he will come out an Elephant-bird.

"And it should be, it should be, it SHOULD be like that! Because Horton was faithful! He sat and he sat! He meant what he said and he said what he meant..."

So when you look at him now and you see an elephant with wings, don't be bitter, you left him for me to faithfully care for 100%.

Horton



*I'm sorry this is so long, I almost didn't publish is after typing it up, but I have been thinking about this a lot since he stopped living with us, and I am hurting, sad, insulted and angry and really needed to vent. I cried the whole time I typed this thing, cause I'm sappy like that. Horton Hatches an Egg happens to be my oldest sons favorite story right now, and I can't help relate it to Her and raising Her son, every time I read it. Bubu is often puzzled when he looks up and sees tears in my eyes, after reading him this story. I'm afraid he thinks his mommy is loosing her marbles! Unfortunately it isn't the first time and it won't be the last time he sees his mom cry over something seemingly strange.

no not THE "F" WORD

So yesterday during preschool we started a new letter, the letter F. As part of the learning process we were talking about words that start with the letter F, like fish and frog, fence and fire. We went through some Flashcards with pictures of items that start with the letter F, then wandered the house collecting items that started with the letter F and putting them in our letter box. As we are doing this, I am confirming with them that yes that is an F word or no that doesn't start with the letter F. So flash forward, an hour or so and a child is being dropped off for care. All the other children are greeting him, his mom is putting his stuff in his cubby, and Atty grabs a frog from the letter box and hands it to the child. At that very moment Bubu yells out "F word" were as the mom whips her head around and stares at my son, then turns her quizzical gaze to me. I am left stammering, "um yes that is an 'F' word, frog"

I pretty sure for a moment she was wondering

what kind of a preschool I was running!

mischievous pixie

My littlest is not a human, he is a mischievous pixie. He is always up to some sort of quiet naughtiness, but he is so cute about it that he often goes unpunished. It is no mystery why he gets naughtier by the minute. He is amazingly good at making it look like his brothers "did it" and that he in fact is entirely innocent. I am becoming painfully aware that I am being bamboozled, that he is in all actuality the mastermind behind the plot. How did he do it? How did he manage to get use all wrapped around his tiny pudgy little finger is such a sort period of time? It's his smile, his laughter, his cute little fish kissy face he makes when I am trying desperately to scold him in all seriousness. I am a sucker. He melts me. My tough, no nonsense mommy facade crumbles when I look into his big blue eyes, his eyebrows knitted together, he stares back at me and nods his head as if he is actually taking me seriously. It ends with me feeling guilty because obviously this child has repented right?

*Then he sneaks off to pinch the oldest

and point to the middle as I run to the rescue.*

**sparkle and shine**

I have a confession. I absolutely hate cleaning, absolutely hate it. Now I've heard that there are some women out there that love to clean their house, to see it sparkle and shine, take pride in their work. I could possibly feel this way also, if I ever got a chance to see it sparkle. I once had the potential to be a Martha Stewart of sorts, or maybe it was all in my mind. Not that I actually ever really wanted to be like her, she is just the most neurotic overly zealous person I could think of.

As an explanation of my above confession I give you a glimpse of my frustration and resulting resentment for anything related to household chores.

Just this morning during my regular cleaning up routine, which I do a couple times a day I might add, I started with the living room, picked up, put the pillows back up on the couch (lost count on how many times I've picked them up this morning alone). Tossed stuff in the boys room, walked back out into the living room, picked up the pillows, again. Straightened up the dinning room, emptied the dish washer, loaded it, ran it so I could empty it again, cleaned up the kitchen, then wandered into the playroom, were the toys covered the ground like snow. I started systematically tossing the toys into the appropriate containers. As I rounded the corner of the couch, I spied my youngest flinging the cardboard blocks off the shelf that I just spent time stacking in perfect order. As I scolded him and picked them up yet again I glance over my shoulder and there is my middle tornado launching all the stuffed animals out of their container, I repeatedly ask him to return the animals to the box, but seeing as this tactic is going to take an hour or so, one animal every ten minutes, I give up and stuff them back myself. Sweating by this point I scramble to grab the vacuum cleaner before any thing else hits the floor. Starting with the living room (not sure why I always start with the living room) I yet again picked up the pillows, turned on the vacuum and boom, babies materialize out of no where to stand right in front of the vacuum, giggling and rolling around on the ground, grabbing the cord, and making general nuisances of themselves. A regular occurrence and so obnoxious. Skirting around them, darting and dashing to try to get the scraps up off the floor. Into the dinning room, then the kitchen, then into the playroom, where the block are on the ground again! Those little heathens. Picked up the blocks, which the babies "helped" me to do this time, then finished vacuuming. Ahhhh, now is the moment of zen right? The sparkle and shine, the moment I have been working so hard for. Wrong, pillows on the ground again, little bits of what every on the dinning room floor, dishes in the sink, and I swear it started snowing toys already, just to name a few things, ugggggg! And I haven't even cleaned the bathrooms yet.

Some times I want to be childish and just throw my hands into the air and scream, "I give up" and then go do some thing I actually want to do. But I know if I did that my house would look like a fish bowl with a malfunctioning filter, instead of clean clutter. Oh well, I may only be a Martha Stewart in my mind, but what a beautiful mind it is. why it almost sparkles and shines.

communication is a wonderful thing.

Interesting tid-bit of information, Bubu just informed me that boogers taste like apple. Just in case you were wondering.

Atty just recently started saying Mama, he's been a late talker, but has been making up for that in the recent weeks. Once he realized that shaking his head yes or no, opened new doors, he started communicating verbally too. So any ways, I had to go to the doctor last night because I haven't been feeling well, I was gone for hours, walk-in clinics suck, and when I pulled into the drive way, there was Atty staring out the window, and his face just lit up when he realized it was me, I could hear him saying "mama, mama" as I got out of the van, and he was pointing out the window at me, all excited. Right when I opened the door he lunged at me and wrapped his arms around my leg and snuggled in. It was really heart warming. I said to him "did you miss mama?" and he looked up at me and shook him head yes, raised his arms and said "up" clearly for the first time. too cute, so of course I picked him up! Being able to communicate is a wonderful thing.

the little things

I was going to rant and rave about what a harsh week this has been, being super sick myself and the two littlest getting pink eye (from were?) and a million other little frustrations that have put me into a rotten funk...but then this happened.

I am cooking dinner, stewing about how lame everything seems at that very moment, how monotonous my life seems to me sometimes (mostly when I am pissy) lost in mean thoughts, and grumpiness when my oldest child gets out this little piano, sits down by the kitchen and starts singing "Riah is a flower" (yes, he calls me Riah most of the time) He's repeating this over and over and pouring himself into playing that piano, pounding away, shouting out the words. Then he stops, looks up at me with his big blue eyes and says, "you like my song Riah?" Yes baby I do, I am now rapidly feeling guilty for feeling so frustrated with them moments earlier. Then he launches into a new song "Riah is beautiful" he adds in some other words, most of which I don't understand, you know cause he's rockin it, then comes back to his verse "Riah is beautiful", then as an afterthought adds "Riah is a flower" a few times, does a little piano number and finishes in style. Then asks his now famous question "You happy now?" Oh my Bubu, you are just the sweetest. You always seem to know when I need a pick me up. You always make me reflect upon my self and make me want to be better, improve. Be the mom that you deserve. So my harsh and very trying week, that had me wallowing in self pity has ended up leaving me with this thought. It's the little things that matter most, the sweet kind words, and how wonderful that my son has learned this. I must remember that he learns through example, and so that means..."snap out of it girl!"

One piece

So I felt like writing about my heart child. One of my children is not my biological child. He is actually my brothers child, but was placed with me when he was only six days old. The reason this is on my mind is because he is finally open for adoption. His parents have apparently signed away their parental rights. This wasn't expected, we all thought we would have to go to court. There was no way they would be getting him back, it would just have made things take longer. This is such a mixed feelings moments for me. A big part of me is so relieved because now we are able to make things official and adopt him. But there is a little part of me that feels sad for what his parents lost. I know it is really hard for them emotionally and it's also hard for them to understand the situation in general because of mental health issues. It's weird to feel happy for something that is so sad to them. They really do love him so much, but are completely unable to care for him, or even have unsupervised visits. I never planned on adopting, I mean it crossed my mind at times, but I figured I would never be able to because it costs so much. And I certainly never thought I would bring another infant into my home while I was five months pregnant with my 2nd child and had a 15 month old. But God always has a bigger plan then we could ever imagine. I remember the day so clearly. A few days prior I had completed a blur of paperwork, petitioned the court, and then waited what seemed an excruciatingly long time to hear the courts decision. I got the call that he was coming, the day before he came, and they asked if I was prepared. I answered yes, because I had all the material belongings they were looking for, but emotionally I do not think there is any way to properly prepare for such a thing. Two very young social workers pulled into my driveway and got out, one carrying a car seat and a small plastic bag that I was to learn was all of his belongings. They brought him in and set him, still asleep in the car seat, onto the coffee table. He was the tiniest little peanut, with a fuzz of red hair, all curled into his car seat, tiny little hands clenched in fists. I could barely focus on all the additional paperwork and on what the caseworkers were saying to me. Finally he woke up and looked at me, I thought he looked just like a wise little wizard, and I asked if I could pick him up. Holding him he felt paper light, weighing about seven pounds. Mind you my first child weighed ten pounds ten and a half ounces, and was built like a brick, so he really did feel light to me. I was almost scared to hold him. He was so wrinkly his own skin didn't fit him. The case worker stayed for about an hour, looked around the house and then left. It was surreal. There I was standing in my living room, with only a weeks notice that my life was going to change and I was going to be responsible for this new life. No nine months (which even that doesn't always seem long enough) to prepare that's for sure. My world felt like it was spinning. Thankfully my closest friend was there that day to help me with the daycare and this life changing event. I couldn't focus on anything else. I just kept staring at this baby snuggled in my arms, and I could feel my heart swelling with love for him that almost hurt. It was such a rush of emotions. Really overwhelming. I remember laying awake that night, just staring at him, how cute and tiny he was, and I knew right then I would do everything in my power to keep him safe for the rest of my life. He has grow in my heart, that is why I call him my heart child. And I feel like on the day we get to make it official and adopt him it will be like giving birth from my heart. He has grown in there since the day he was placed with us, and I can no longer imagine my life with out him, he is my son, my love and my everything. Seeing that he is legally ours with just solidify what I have already know, just like when you give birth. I think one of the hardest parts for me was wanting to bond with him, but being afraid that he would be taking away and that I wouldn't be able to handle that pain. In retrospect it wasn't a choice, we started to bond the moment we saw each other. At first I felt like I wasn't allowed to consider my self his mommy and I called my self Auntie. But as time has gone by, and as we started on the road to adoption, it felt more and more right to call my self mommy. I am his mommy, I know I am not his birth mother, there is no changing that, but I am the only mother he has ever known. The boys have grown up as brothers and at this point they know no different. I know some day there will be a time for explanations and I am scared of that part, because I am so worried about doing it the right way. I firmly believe that a big part of that is not keeping secrets, telling him the honest truth in an age appropriate way. There is also a baby brother born a year after the first child they were unable to keep, and he is in a different state (they couldn't keep him either, which is a whole different story). We talk about him together and look at his pictures up on our wall, and all the boys call him brother. I think it is good that they grow up understanding that family can mean lots of different things, and come in lots of different forms. But I get ahead of myself, I need to remember to take it one piece at a time and the piece I working on right now is finalizing this adoption!

Picking Pumpkins

Bubu likes the green ones :)
Cute pumpkin pose
Cute pumpkin pose.
Scary pumpkin pose. We woke Atty up from a nap and he wasn't interested in cute pumpkin poses. He also hasn't been feeling well, so sad.
Juicy's got an eye for perfect pumpkins!

Pumpkin patch family.
My lovely boys.
Atty just wanting to be snuggled.
It was a beautiful day and the boys didn't really need hats, I'm just a freak about bundling up the boys. Drives them crazy. In all fairness it was a cold morning, but had warmed up considerably by the time we hit the pumpkin patch.
My juicy littlest, such a doll. He had a lot of fun getting to wander around the pumpkin field for the first time.

Atty in a much better mood, almost his busy little self again, ready to pick out pumpkins, now that we have left the pumpkin patch!
Picking up pumpkins. He liked the really round ones and was calling them balls, almost threw a few, yikes!
Boys liked the chickens. So at this pumpkin farm there was suppose to be a "petting zoo" which actually consisted of two donkey in a pen, that didn't want you to pet them, two pigs in a pen you couldn't touch and some chickens in a pen. Not exactly a petting zoo. But the boys didn't seem to mind, they were just excited to see animals there. It was over all a really nice place. There were hayrides, train rides (not on a track, on wheels), face painting, food, a bouncy house, a huge field of pumpkins, a store with lots of goodies, a corn maze, and I think a few other things too. We didn't do a lot, because most of the other stuff required money, and we are practicing frugal living (well not really, but trying anyways) We have actually found quite a lot of fun things to do around here that don't cost much, just takes a little research. It's fun finding new favorite spots to go as a family. I'm glad we moved here. We went to a drive-in movie theater Saturday night, two movies and only the adults had to pay, and then only 6 bucks! There doesn't seem to be many drive-ins left. It was a lot of fun, and it's about the only way we can take the kids, at least for now. They just can't sit in chairs that long. In the van they were unable to bug any one else but us. And we are use to it! Plus they fell asleep by the 2nd movie, yeah!
Sitting on the pumpkins. Bubu wanted to push the wheel barrel, but he found out it was just a tiny bit to heavy.
All my favorite boys, J actually sat for a picture! We had a lot of fun with him this weekend. We miss him so much now that he is living with his mom again. The weekend wasn't long enough. When we went to pick him up Bubu was so excited, he kept saying "Cars get out of the way, we are getting uncle J." and "I'm so excited!" and the good 'ol saying "Are we there yet?" That last one was cute the first couple times, but it is an hour long drive, so it got a little tiresome after a bit. J lived with us for a long time, well over 6 years, but recently moved back in with his mom, and we are still adjusting to that. Any ways, it was a great day in the pumpkin patch and we found the perfect pumpkins to carve, bring on the fun!

An attempt at shopping for costumes with the boys.

So I decided to take the boys shopping for Halloween costumes, by myself, I knew my dear lovely husband didn't want to go, or was it because he didn't have time, or maybe because he is against all holidays (and I am only kind of kidding). What ever the reason, I was convince that it had to be done that very minute so I pack up the boys and away we went to Target. Now when shopping with three little boys, three and under, you must have a way to keep them confided. I mean there is no humanly possible way to chase three little boys in three different directions. They are pretty good at listening when not distracted by all the various enticing things there are to get into at a store. Who can blame them, it's paradise for a curious mind. So on this particular trip I put the babies in the double stroller and had Bubu walk, because he listen well for the most part. I hate having to search for the double carts, which by the way people with out a lot of kids should not be allowed to use! Everything went alright, but we couldn't find Bubu the Spider man outfit he craves, so I promised him we would check at Party City. I did find the cutest Pug dog outfit that Juicy just loved so we got the biggest size in that one. Then off we went to Party City which was in the same parking lot so we just walked on over. Okay so I should have known when the stroller wouldn't fit comfortably through the isles that I should have booked it out of there, but Bubu so wanted the outfit and I so wanted to be done with the costume shopping well ahead of Halloween, so we crammed our way down the isle and found the one we were looking for on the back wall, but, it's just a picture of the outfit, you have to take a number and then wait for someone to get it out of the back and the line was LONG! So I attempt to wait with the boys, but the babies start to get restless and I soon ran out of interesting things to show them. Then Atty enters, center stage, temper time! He starts throwing the biggest fit, and his are something to see. His face scrunches up, gets bright red, he arches his back and flails around and hollers as loud as he can, screaming and yelling, it's really dramatic. He is a red head after all and doesn't want to disappoint. Totally embarrassing. There is obviously no reasoning with him, and he wasn't quiting anytime soon, so after wasting 15 minute (which may not sound like a long time to you, but is an eternity when you are trying to keep things under control with three active little boys in a store full of goodies) we had to turn around and try to fight our way back down the isle to leave. Mind you I get lots of unwanted stares, and annoying comments, already for having three (cute) little boys so close in age, but this time everyone, and I am not kidding, everyone was staring at us, mortifying! By the time we got back out onto the sidewalk I was sweating, and burnt out and we still didn't have a Spider man costume. Bubu was being sweet about it, which just made it worse, because then I really wanted to get it for him instead of going home (which is what I should have done). So off to Walmart we go. Why Walmart? I have no idea. This time I had enough of the double stroller, so I decided to give in and use one of those big carts that you can fit a couple kids in. Since there just happened to be one right next to were we parked I figured it was meant to be (boy did I figure wrong!). I get the babies buckled in, put Bubu in the basket part and in we go. We find the Spider man costume right away, and I was thinking things were looking up, but it was in the wrong size. So I look and look for a bigger size, going as fast as I can to try to avoid another melt down, and there just isn't a bigger size. So then I decide that I can't bare another wasted trip and I go to look for some shoes for Atty, being as he needed a pair that fit, but along the way Atty decided enough was enough and started to pitch again. He starts arching his back, and the buckles that are suppose to keep them safe and in the cart just pop open (I am at Walmart after all)! So I stop and try to cram him back in while he flailing around, and I get it buckled again. Which works for about a second. So it's time to go, wasted trip and all. Problem is now I am at the back of the store and I need to get to the front with out Atty launching his way out of the cart and he is determined at this point to do just that, he is in the middle of one of his best performance to date. I can't pick him up and carry him out while still pushing this huge cart with the other two whom I consider angel in comparison at this point. I know you're not suppose to compare, but can you blame me at that very moment! So I try to block him with my body and hustle out of there. I thought it was horrible the stares at the other store, now multiply that, and in retrospect it was nothing to the eyes on us as we exit our last and final stop. Of course as soon as we enter the fresh air of the outdoors, performance over. That is almost more frustrating then him screaming all the way home. So home we go, pull into the driveway and a sense of relief washes over me, home at last. It's been all of about 2 1/2 hours, and I am drained! So I am thinking, well at least we got one outfit, not a totally wasted trip. Go to try it on him, and you guessed it, doesn't fit! Frustrating! But what can you do, I know what I did, I poured my self a glass of wine, because I deserved it, and called my best friend so we could have a laugh about it. I mean when you've got 3 boys to raise there is no since getting bitter about these things (although I have to admit I was saying some choice words in my head on the way home). In the big picture though, it's just one of many adventures to come, and it's certainly not the worse 2 1/2 hours I have had with the boys (yes I have had worse). I did end up relying on another good friend who just happens to be a thrift store wonder, to find me some adorable outfits for the boys, and she never disappoints. Bubu got his Spider man outfit after all, Juicy got the cutest dog costume and Atty got a tiger outfit (getting it on him is another story!). So the message in this story for me is, don't forget to rely on your best of friends, cause you can't always be Superwomen. It takes some good girlfriend to keep my sanity and I am lucky I've got a few!

The things kids say.

I gave the kids grape juice (juice is rare in our house) with snack yesterday and Bubu took a sip then he looked at me and said "this makes my head feel funny". So random. His vocabulary has been exploding lately, and he has been experimenting with feeling words and describing things. He has come up with some amazing stuff. He is such a copy cat too, which is scary. Seeing yourself mirrored in your child can be a humbling experience. A few days ago I heard him scolding his brother, he got down really close to him and said in a deep serious voice "you look at me" then he growled " stop or go to time out" with this horrible scowl on his face. He wanted his brother to stop getting into something, it didn't really have anything to do with him, but he has taken on the big brother role with all seriousness. And I saw me in his behavior, talk about eye opener! Lately he tells his brothers that they are driving him nuts, which is a saying he has coined from his daddy. He has also figured out that telling mommy she is beautiful gets him good results. I mean who can be grumpy when their three year old is looking into their eyes and saying with all earnestness, "your beautiful mommy" with a soft pat on the cheek. Oh I am a sucker! But, in all fairness, it works on his daddy too, which is a funny thing to watch.

Remembering Halloweens past...

A scrapbook page of Bubu's first Halloween 05.

2007-Bubu gets first choice again, babies still to little to care. This year I fear will be a different story.
07-Meow, Atty and I.
07-Yummy mommy!
07-Juicy's first Halloween, and there is my husbands "little" brother to the side, just a little to big for trick-or-treating.
07-Bubu and his best friend trick-or-treating.

06-Monkey boy, Bubu's 2nd Halloween.
06-Baby Bubu picking out Pumpkins.
06-Trick-or-treat, say banana Bubu!
07-Peas and Carrots, babies first Halloween .
07-My boys.

Nostalgia. Planning this years activities for Halloween, pumpkin picking, pumpkin carving, making toasted pumpkin seeds together, Childcare Halloween party, outfit hunting, were to go trick-or-treating and such I can't help but think back to the last couple Halloweens. We weren't allowed to celebrate Halloween when I was growing up, and I was always sad about it, because I loved dressing up, not to mention wishing I had the candy stash that the rest of my friends had! I think this is way it is important to me that the boys have fun with it. I don't care for some of the things associated with Halloween, or what some people do, and all the gory stuff that is out around this holiday, but we do it in a fun way, and try to keep the other yucky stuff out of it. Anyways how the boys have grown in one year! My favorite pictures are of the boys dressed up for trick-or-treating. Bubu's first Halloween he was two months old and I dressed him up as a pumpkin. I took him in for professional pictures and he was so angry when I put on his costume, which consisted of a hat, a bib, diaper cover and booties, he just screamed and fussed. He was cold and having already done some previous pictures before changing clothes he was through with being cute, I didn't think I would want the pictures, but in the end when I looked at them, it was so funny to see him with his lip out, pouting, we call them the grumpy pumpkin pictures. We went trick-or-treating for a short bit, with my husband's little brother who was living with us at the time. Bubu wore a cute pumpkin sweat suit, and I carried him around in a sling, so he was all bundled up nice and warm. The following year he was a monkey, and a super cute one at that. We went trick-or-treating in a friends neighborhood and he really enjoyed it. Of course mommy charges a tax on candy (you know to fund future outings, or is it for energy?), so barely any of it ended up in the hands of Bubu ;). And now to last year, along come Atty and Juicy baby. Peas and carrots. Juicy made the cutest little green pea, and Atty, well being as he is a "carrot top" could be nothing else but a carrot. I couldn't find a carrot outfit, so I had to make it. I took them in for there baby Halloween pictures as well, and boy were they cute! Bubu dressed up as a frog, one of mommy's favorite little critters. We went trick-or-treating in our own neighborhood, with some dear family friends. It was a lot of fun (and of course in keeping with tradition I again charged a tax on candy, lucky me!) So once again this year I am planning our activities, and wondering what to do with the boys on Halloween. Bubu is officially Spider man and Juicy defiantly wants to be a dog, but Atty, well right now it's a toss up between a monkey and a tiger. I am hoping it won't rain, on my super hero and his little pets, but being as we are in Washington, that is a consistent hope of mine for the holidays (always seems to rain on the 4th of July of all days!) And I am also wondering, can I still get away with a candy tax? We will see!

my love

Love A cozy moment.

Atty squishing daddy.

A baby Atty and Daddy Boys at the fair, Juicy's hidding in the backpack... Juicy and his daddy on his first birthday.
Family fun at the beach.
Daddy and his boys.

Our family on the front steps of our new house.
A baby Bubu and daddy.
higher daddy higher!
A sleepy daddy and a sleepy newborn Juicy baby.
Favorite recent picture, beautiful blue eyes!

I love the above picture of my honey-baby. He is even cuter then the day we met, and that's saying a lot! He is such a wonderful daddy to our children and a hard working husband. I know I don't tell him enough how much I appreciate all that he does. I can not imagine my life with out him. He got up at 4 am this morning and has to commute almost 2 hours to a job site that he is hoping to get hired at, because the job he has been at is almost finished. He doesn't want to get on the union waiting list, because right now it is a long wait, mostly because the economy is slowing down. If he gets this job, he will leave the house at 5 am and not get home until around 7:30 pm! Working 4 tens if he's lucky, probably more then that, which I don't know that I would be able to handle, but he is always ready, willing and actually hoping for it, because it's good money and he is always wanting to make things better for us. I some times get teary seeing him with his boys, knowing that he didn't have a dad around when he was growing up, I often wonder how he so instinctively knows how to be that father figure for his own boys. I do not have good memories of my father and I am so thankful that through my husband our children will have wonderful memories of theirs. My husband and I waited a long time before having our first son, Bubu, and now I can't imagine life with out them all. Although on the rough days I sometimes think we didn't wait long enough! It is wild how many different fazes a relationship goes through if you are with a person long enough. In June my husband and I celebrated the 14th anniversary of the day we met. The day we met someone had mentioned that a boy was coming over (with a most unusual name) and I should stay and met him. I heard his name and knew that I would not be leaving until I saw this boy, and the moment he walked in the room, I was in love. That very moment. There was something about him, I was drawn to him like a magnet. I could barely breath I was so head over heals. Some time that summer we were sitting together in a field of grass, and there were daisy's growing next to us and I told him that daisy's were my favorite flower and he pick some and gave them to me and told me he was the daisy king, and I decided right then and there that I was going to be his daisy queen. The rest of that summer I had butterflies in my stomach and looked forward to every moment I could be near him. Of course it took him a little bit longer to realize he couldn't live with out me, but he got there eventually...and he has said it was all because no matter were he was and who he was with he couldn't stop thinking about me. He was my first everything and the only man I have ever been in-love with. I have often wondered why we are so strongly drawn to each other. I know think it is because we were meant to have these beautiful children. I think in the end it won't be the story of my husband and I that will be remembered, it will be our children's.

So I finally started a blog!

Now that this is the last thing I should be spending time on, I have decided to give it a try. The boys and I are all really excited about the upcoming holidays. Halloween is right around the corner and then comes my favorite, Thanksgiving, yummy! This year for Halloween Bubu who is now three years old, wants to be spider man, while the littlest, my Juicy baby (16 months) points to all the dog costumes and I can't tell what Atty (20 months) wants to be, but we all think he would make an excellent monkey. Considering he climbs on everything, gets into everything and wants to eat banana's non-stop...plus he make a very convincing monkey sound! The boys are a handful but also so much fun. I can hardly believe how busy my life is these days, and it makes time fly just a little to fast! I spotted more grey hairs the other night then I am even willing to admit, and have since then gone to the store and invested in some good 'ol hair dye, I'm all about masking old age!