Thursday, June 30, 2011

I thought it was a moment.....

Tonight we were having a moment. It was just the boys, the baby, and I. We've been with family all week and were in a rare moment where it was just the five of us. We were all in a good mood, enjoying the outdoors. I was watching those little boys at the park, amazed at how they've developed from being a little baby like the one I held in my arms to these independant individuals. And I was feeling especially awestruck to be part of their journey. To be the one who gets to see a side of them that no one else is priviliged to know. To be able to love these specific kids the way only a mother can. We were having a moment. And I wanted to help them recognize this moment. "Boys, I'm feeling something super special right now." "What, Mom?" "I'm feeling so lucky to be your Mom, that you guys are the greatest-" "Mom, can you just come help me?" Let me rephrase that- I was having a moment. There was no "we" in this special moment. "But boys I'm bearing my soul...."

Because that's what I'll be having to tell Yosh after a heart-felt confession of one sort or the other. A heart-felt confession that is answered in one of two ways: a) silence or b) [insert some comment about the Cougars]  "But Yosh, I just bore you my soul...." "Oh babe, I'm sorry, what?" Rule #1 in soul-bearing.... it's a one shot deal. No repeat available.

(you know I got nothing but love for you babe!)

Which is why I'm lucky to have this little lady in my life. 
Although it's just a feeling, I think I'll be enjoying many a heart-to-hearts with her. Not just heart-to-sweetboysclosedearswhoreallycarebutjustcan'tfocus. Love my boys- all of them, love my girl.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011


Here are my stars of the show...Daddy Warbucks and Rooster.

These boys were in "Annie" last weekend and what kind of a mother would I be if I didn't think they stole the show? So that is what I think. This was Dallin B's third time performing on stage and he did it like the seasoned pro that he is. It was Porter's first time on stage and, well, he too filled that role just perfectly!

I'll tell you what, the predicaments you're put in as a parent can sometimes be a little unnerving. Porter was up on stage acting like he belonged there but some of the words coming out of his mouth sure didn't belong there. The nerves were manifesting themselves through statements such as, "I already said that." And, "This is stupid." And, "This is Deeter's favorite part. Deeter is two." And I'll have you know the nerves were running just as high in seat 6D as I had to sit and watch this scene play out. In my head I'm thinking, "Does everyone know he's just nervous- that this is his way of showing it?" I'm also thinking, "Come on, Porter, you're killing me." I'm trying to send out vibes of, "He's really a sweet boy who has worked hard on his lines- please tell me you're grasping that!" So I sit there smiling strong, proud of my boy. And the last thing I'm sitting there thinking is, "You've got to be kidding me...he is exactly like his mother." Because when I get a strong case of nerves, I say inappropriate things. I lose the ability to think, but unfortunately not the ability to talk. And definitely don't lose the ability to giggle (like when I was getting married, or in front of the judge when I was 17) nor the ability to swing hap-hazardly at the individual making me nervous (like when I was proposed to) but these are all stories for a different time.

And we all survived without getting kicked off stage or passing out. And not a single person commented on the few parts that made my booty pucker. Only rave reviews. Especially of Dallin making his grand entrance. Imagine the curtains opening to him standing there like a Greek God. And holding the pose. And then holding it a little longer. And maybe even a little longer....until the grandeur of his entrance would be appreciated! Phew!!! Because I was beginning to think he might just decide to stand there basking in the spotlight until someone pushed him out to his spot!

Why is it that when I take pictures with the boys it turns out looking like this awkward, holding them up or down kinda pose? But with Papi- everything looks smooth. Maybe Cami will do a post about how to me more photogenic and natural! (Just a suggestion, Cam!)

Anyways, a big Bravo for these up and comers!

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Potty Talk

To the Man who RULES our House

Without a doubt, this is our captain. And I'll have to say his birthday was a success. I felt like it was a bit of a gamble taking the kids to the zoo but things went rather well. And looking back- my 18 hours of retrospect- it's no mystery why. As most other days, this little Sir was in charge. The difference rebels were in tow (namely: ME.) He had his ducks in a row and we followed him around like the leader he is and there were no meltdowns, no power struggles, just good times. At two years old, I always wonder if they really catch on to the birthday. And while I still don't know that, I think he knew it was a special day for him. By yesterday he finally stopped screaming, "Noooooooooooooo" when we said, "Who's having a birthday?" or "Who's turning 2?" or "Who's the Birthday Boy?" It was a gnarly week of prep but I'm thinking it paid off because a time or two, I heard him offer up on his own, "Dodo 2." Interpreted Deeter 2. And maybe a time or two even sang Happy Birthday to Dodo instead of interjecting the name Harrison as he's been doing all week. Oh he's a cute boy and glad to have him entertaining us.

Now yesterday, he wasn't our only entertainer. And in the moment I wouldn't have even considered this entertainment, but it only took an hour for me to have the first random chuckle at this incident and they've continued since. We were on our way home from Santa Barbara and had thus far had an excellent day. No melt downs (the boys.) No temper tantrums (me.) But I was a tired mama. Like stop and grab a Mountain Dew for the hour and a half drive home cuz otherwise I might fall asleep tired. And we had made it. We were there. We were home. I could almost taste it. Two miles to go. Three sleeping children. One barely having woken up. When a second one starts to wake. And he always wakes up like a bear, growling. So when this process began, I wasn't alarmed but knew to let him do his thing. He got out of his seat belt and I didn't say a word. I'm thinking, "Let the boy stretch out and maybe we'll avoid 5 minutes of growling/screaming." Dallin questions this and I tell him to relax. But then Dallin says, "Mom, why is he pulling down his underwear?" I whip around as fast as my little neck would allow to see this child, pants down, standing in pee-ing position. I can't quite wrap my head around what is happening. At a red light 2 measly miles from home, my mind will not accept that Porter is about to pee all over the back seat of the van. There has got to be some other explanation....but THERE'S NOT. I go into emergency mode ready to divert the disaster. "Porter, DO YOU HAVE TO PEE?" Who knows what he says but the answer to the question is more than obvious. So I hand him an empty water bottle and say, "Ok, well just pee into this." And we've done this a number of times. Without incident. No dirty hands, no splashage, not even necessary to touch the boy parts- it's the best port-a-potty ever invented. And he knows how to do this. So he takes the bottle. I'm desperately going in intervals of looking for my green light and hurriedly returning my eyes to the unfolding drama in the back seat. And he starts to pee....all over the back seat. And the floor. And my heart DROPS. And he keeps peeing. Images of the bottle of water he's been drinking. And the whole bottle of Vitamin Water. I'm watching it all come out. And I'm just huffing and puffing and pouting, speechless. That sickening feeling takes over me. Like when you're on a road trip and find out you've been going the wrong way for an hour and a half and the only way to get back on track is to take the same road back for an hour and a half. Because I was that tired. And that's how badly I didn't want to be cleaning up a mess of these sorts. But the potty kept coming. And the smell started traversing. And he pulled his wet pants up and sat down like, "WHAT?" Not a word to be said. I drove that long two miles home- defeated. And he rode those two miles home- satisfied. 
I think my boy was still more than half-way asleep during this incident, bless his heart. We got home, I ate some brownies, put on my big girl pants, and got the mess cleaned up. Turns out his aim wasn't half-bad as he really didn't hit any material. He stuck to the removable mat and areas that a little 409 and towel took care of in no time at all. And like I said, in the short time that has passed, I've already had many a laughs. Thank you, Porter.

(you didn't think these were going to be pics of Porter doing his business, did ya?!)

Happy Birthday, Deeter!