the sharpie bandit.

I have heard stories about those kids. The ones who search cabinet after cabinet for cleaning products to destroy/empty/ingest, the kids who find the one not proofed electric socket in your house for their tiny little finger, the ones who empty drawers, color on walls, the ones who scream and refuse a restaurant highchair, rip pages out of books, throw food and tantrums daily. I didn't really believe these kids existed. More that it was some evil way to prevent people from every choosing to become parents in fear of having one of the those banchee babies. Max is one of those kids.



Max searches out the sockets for his fingers, he happily will take a DVD from it's case just to run it across the tile and destroy it, he will find your keys high and almost out of reach and forever rid of them. He's one of them. His newest title is the Sharpie bandit. He found my missing (apparently it wasn't forever lost) Sharpie and while I slipped away to put away clothes he decorated our (in his humble opinion) not so glamorous flooring.

{I'm so sad this picture turned out unfocused and blurry. He was so proud of his work when I busted out the camera to document his lovely behavior, he turned and exclaimed "Cheese". The best parenting advice I got, "Don't get mad, take a picture". And so, I did.}


His own special touch of decoration to our house. Thank you Max, you are numero uno at interior decor. Consider yourself fired.

masonisms.

Some of these aren't that funny. They just mark the thoughts of a curious, sweet, innocent, adorable, sometimes rowdy 3 year old - who's edging eerily close to turning four.

• "The letter of the day is F mommy. Like for feathers and fam-awee, oh, and cheez-its." The kid loves cheez its and I think this was his way of wanting to celebrate letter F with some cheddar deliciousness.
  
• "Tonight I'm going to dream about you mommy". As I was taking in the sweetness, he added "...and pumpkins and ALLIGATORS!!". So maybe I'm not the only thing he thinks about..
• Over Halloween weekend. "Mommy that's a lot of candy. If you eat more of my candy your teeth will fall out!" [said with confidence and a little anger]. That's silly who told you that Mase. "You did Mommy!". Busted. Step away from the Snickers, mama.
• We went to eat burgers and I snuck chicken fingers on the menu for the boys to share. Somewhere mid meal Mason realized I had a burger and he said "Hey that's what I shoulda got! You tricked me". I tricked you indeed. "Hey, Mommy, you know what? Sharing is caring. And that rhymes". Mason - 1 Mommy - 0. For the record, I did share my burger. As hard as that is to believe.
• To almost anything we say these days regarding bath, bed, dinnertime. "Mommy/Daddy, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!" No I am not kidding, you do have to eat your corn, take a bath and go to bed before 3:30 AM. Sorry kiddo.

He's growing up in to quite the little talker. He has more wit and sarcasm in his 3 foot body than most people have in their entire LIFE. He's a keeper. More Mason-isms to come, I'm sure.

thankful [2010].

Another year has gone by, a year full of things to be thankful for. Today we celebrate Thanksgiving, a holiday washed out by football and turkey. Thanksgiving is a time to remember what we all have to be thankful for. I have so much.

I'm thankful for late night snuggles and midnight intruders in to my bed. I'm thankful for messy bubble baths where more soapy water ends up on me and my tile than either of my children. I'm thankful for syrup scented foreheads, long after breakfast has been cleaned up. For jammied, lotioned, soft sleeping babies. I'm thankful for long lashes that bat in my direction. I'm thankful for a head of thick, brunette, curls that make it effortless to find my tiny in a sea full of toddlers.

I am thankful for sunshine in November. I'm thankful for a Starbucks latte on an early morning. Sometimes more thankful for a lukewarm cup of coffee, brewed in my very own kitchen and shared on a couch between two sets of chubby things and cheerio crumbs.

I am thankful for sisters who share their secrets, their wildest dreams, their tears, but best of all, their laughter. Thankful for a warm bed that is often paralyzing in the morning. A bed filled with morsels of popcorn, goldfish and juice box straws. The same bed filled with memories of many cuddles, a routine of bedtime lotion and tooth brushing and an occasional Pixar movie party. A bed whose sheet smell's recapture the first day of bringing home a newborn and whose pillow's softness speak the sweet, familiar week of a preschooler's first cast.

I am thankful for dinner dates. For my best friend, a man who shares two imperative titles, both best friend and husband. My ally and teammate in parenting, my sidekick in late night channel surfing, my companion in life, love and laughter.I am thankful for his endless support in all aspects of my life. I am thankful for his hard work and dedication allowing me to worry about nothing but the task of raising three little men. I am thankful for his positive attitude and contagious merriment. For his continuous affection and his generous ways. I am thankful for his infectious smile, his boisterous laughter and his playful jokes. I am thankful he is mine.

I am thankful for my {almost} finished college education. For persistence and hard work tied with assistance from many to cross the finish line. I am thankful for a mother who shares wisdom, acceptance and love that knows no boundaries. Thankful for her selflessness. Thankful for her demonstration of how to be a good mother. I am thankful for a mother in law who treats me as her own daughter. Thankful that with open arms and an even wider open heart she never hesitates to watch my boys or come to our side with aide. I am so very thankful for all of my family who not only comes together on the holidays, but on random weeknights for dinner and good conversation. For family who loves my children like they are their own.

I am thankful for each bundle of blue I've been given. Thankful for baby kicks from within, reminding me at any given minute that I have so much to be thankful for, beyond that can even be seen. I am thankful for the future, that holds excitement, anticipation, and a sweet new newborn head to kiss.

I am thankful for Mason's laugh and Max's rarely caught real-not-for-the-camera smile. Thankful for their kisses, whether given or when need be stolen.

So thankful, for so much.

a weekend of firsts.

Last weekend was busy. We had a weekend full of firsts. Nope, sorry grandparents it was not Max's first hair cut. The little man is still rocking his hippie 'do. Though we did get in there and trim his bangs up.

This weekend was a weekend of first's for Mason. He earned his first trophy - after ending his first season of soccer, which was his first sport. He was so very proud, as were we. He quickly declared "My next trophy is going to be bigger". Next sport up to bat = basketball.

Next we celebrated, well not so much, his first broken bone. To make sure he will never be out done by either of his baby brothers, Mason went ahead and broke not just one bone, but two. He received two broken bones last Sunday. He was such a trooper in the Emergency Room, charming the physician and nurses, showing us the brave little boy he is and he came out on top with a green cast that is already full of Sharpie ink. He is one loved little boy.

boys mean...sports.

Boys mean blue socks and automobile layette. Boys mean trains, dinosaurs, and throwing rocks. Boys mean rough and tumble, with an occasional kiss. Boys mean being much too busy for a bite of lunch. Boys mean backyard explorations and creepy crawly friends. I swear to Michael, the minute we found out with each and every single pregnancy that we were expecting a boy, a boy meant sports. And jumping out of your chair in excitement that the baby did in fact have something dangling there between his legs, all why claiming to really have no preference at all. Boys meant competition. Boys means, basketballs, lacrosse sticks and shin guards.

At the ripe old age of three you can actually enroll in team sports. When Mason was a baby it seemed like three was so old, so big, so mature, and so ready for some sports. When September rolled around and soccer registration began, we jumped at the chance to get him started in a fun extracurricular that would hopefully fill his free time with exercise, friendships and laughter.The afternoon of his first game his socks and cleats were laid out. His shin guards were ready and his blue jersey was washed and cleaned and admittedly three sizes too big for any preschooler. He was #10 and he was thrilled to wear his new outfit. Fully dressed he was swimming and lost in the get up. His shorts and socks met and you could barely see any skin of his small knees. All the sudden three wasn't seeming so big and so ready for sports. But the smile he flashed before we headed to the fields was enough to reassure me that he was indeed ready.

The game started with a blow of a whistle. The minute the kids all started playing Mason had some hesitation. Mason is a timid little boy by nature, always wanting to perfect things before even attempting them. Mason is also one of the most energetic kids I've ever seen, so I was shocked that the thought of running around, laughing and screaming and chasing a ball didn't appeal to him.


He switched from my lap to Michael's, tugged at his hair, and refused to go in the game. A whole hour pasted. We bribed him, pleaded with him, even stood with him to get him to play. He wasn't having it. The only thing he enjoyed were the stickers, stamps and fruit snacks after the game. I was frustrated and bummed. I wanted my kid to be the shining star of the team. I wanted my baby to score the first goal and kick the ball furthest and hardest. I wanted the natural. I figured Michael's heart was slowly crushing as he watched Mason refuse to enter the game. It was a humbling experience.



Tomorrow is Mason's final soccer game this season. It took another two or three games just like the one I described before he would play. Now he itches for his turn to go in. He chases the ball and laughs and puts on a show for the crowd, just like I knew he would. It seems silly thinking back to September when I was so frustrated and humbled. I'm not sure what bothered me so much. Why did I even care? Then I realized that three isn't so big, so old, so mature, so ready. Boys don't have to mean sports. And Michael's heart never crushed, and dreams of years of sports for Mason never crossed his mind - but his happiness on the field did.



Tomorrow I'm expecting him to flash us the same smile he did the night of his first practice. A smile that says maybe I'm ready, maybe I am growing up, but it isn't too fast. A smile that reminds us I'm confident and energetic, and sometimes a little timid. A smile that elates I'm happy. And that's all that matters. We'll smile back. An exchange of affirmation and pride in our little man. We will revel in his playfulness that defines his being. So, boys might mean sports to some. But to us, they just mean happiness.

monday musings.

Okay, give me a break - it's Monday. Not just any Monday. My first Monday back to blogging. It appears I've taken a hiatus. Really, I have no big, crazy excuse, I wasn't on a month long vacation out of the country and my house didn't get zapped away by aliens. I've just been busy.

Musings always seem easiest in the form of bullet points, right? The answer is, sure, of course.

1. Mason's on a kick with the number 100. In 100 years, he'll be 100. He swears.
2. We are 21 weeks in to pregnancy #3. That's more than 50%, I've never been good at math, but damn that flew by. I always hated how people said "We're pregnant" because you better believe there is no one sharing this morning sickness, tailbone sciatica or alcohol abstaining with me. No one. Unless the love nugget himself counts?
3. Halloween has come and gone. I took a few good pictures. Mason repeatedly wiped his face painted mustache off his face all night. Max ate through some candy wrappers to get to the GOOD STUFF. Overall=success.
4. Fall weather has hit. Our back door stays open pretty much all day. We're also peeing in the back yard a lot. Well some of us are.
5. Max has acquired a sweet tooth. He will not resist any nourishment in the form of chocolate, sugar or sweets. Do you really have to acquire that taste?
6. Max also had his 15 month appointment (a month late). According to his pediatrician he's a little peanut, juts 22 lbs and 31 inches. Those stats sounded ginormous to me though. He also said he appears to be doing just perfectly in all other areas of life. He's just kicking ass and taking names already, duh.
7. I ordered my graduation announcements today. I can't believe it's finally (almost) here. For real.
   
8. Sibling rivalry is setting in. Max will lovingly whack his brother upside the head and Mason whines to me "He's ruining everything" or "Well, he started it". The next 15 years should be fun.
   
9. Soccer season ends in ONE week. I feel like we just registered.
   
10. Lemonade is the best pregnancy craving ever.
11. It's almost time to order Christmas jammies. I cannot believe it.
12. For once in my life I am excited for a Thanksgiving meal. It may be the nugget talking...

I'm really trying to stay on my game and blog more. I'll be back for more!