15 posts tagged “sons”
My summer project is to potty train my two-year-old girl and three-year-old boy. The latest idea I've had is to have them sit on their little potties while I let them watch some TV. This is special treat for them, because I've become pretty particular about not watching TV during the day. I don't turn it off for any noble-I-think-it-rots-your-brain kind of reason, I just don't like the tone of the house with the TV on all day. It make me edgy to have it on all day (but I think I can make the sacrifice if the end result is potty trained little children!).
So, this is either genius or completely insane. I guess we'll find out soon enough.
For a while after Luke was born I had the Dr. Seuss tongue twister about Luke Luck found in the book "Fox in Socks" stuck in my head.
Luke Luck likes lakes.
Luke's duck likes lakes.
Luke Luck licks lakes.
Luck's duck licks lakes.Duck takes licks in lakes Luke Luck likes.
Luke Luck takes licks in lakes duck likes.
Well now it's even more ironic that that poem was stuck in my head. My husband went and looked back at the receipt we got after filing for the birth certificate. Instead of writing my son's name as "Luke" (as I had written it out on the form), they typed it up as "Luck." And in my postpartum sleep deprived state I did not catch it and signed off on it.
We're now in the process of trying to correct the spelling of his name before the birth certificate is actually issued, but I can just see the people at the state vital records office saying "look, some hippie home birth mom named her kid born on St. Patrick's day 'Luck'." At very least it looks like "Luck" is going to be a permanent nickname for Luke.
From our family to yours, Merry Christmas!
Yesterday I handed my two-year-old son a one dollar bill to put in the offering plate at church. As he took the bill from me, he opened it up, pointed at the center picture and pronounced "Mama." Yup, that's just the look I've been going for all these years: our founding father and first president, George Washington.
We don't do much coloring in my house. I just don't have the tolerance for it. I don't like picking up little crayons that get strewn about, as they inevitably will be. I don't like little kids chewing on crayons. I don't like trying to get crayon marks off of things that aren't the designated coloring sheet. So, crayons are contraband in our house. They are a strictly controlled substance. And forget painting, are you kidding me?!
But now I feel that maybe I have been too rash in my de facto art ban. Micah, my second oldest, painted in preschool and it turned out really cool. Also, he was great with the art supplies. Micah was totally focused on putting color on paper.
Now I feel guilty for all the time he didn't get to play with crayons and the like just because his older brother is still a box dumping, crayon eating, property defacer. This is just one more in a long line of reminders that although they are related, my kids are each different people.
You do see the rabbit, right?
My family celebrates Thanksgiving on a different day from the rest of America. Their Thanksgiving will be Saturday. I'll get back to you about that on Saturday. Today was Thanksgiving at my in-law's. The spread was beautiful and delicious, the house looked great, and my mother-in-law did a wonderful job as hostess. Now, I consider myself a good parent to my children and I believe I am talented in many ways, but in many of the traditional homemaker skills I am sorely lacking. I always get all inadequate feeling around food and decorating holidays. The more important food and decorating is to the holiday, the more I tend to clam up at gatherings. I'm working on ways to get past this, but for now, it is what it is. So, as wonderful as this holiday is and should be for me, I never come home feeling that way.
It didn't help that this year the baby (the little baby) woke up with a fever and so she was cranky most of the day. The other baby (the big baby--no, not my husband) did his usual stunt routine and proceeded to trip and fall and wail the whole time. This routine is very jarring for people not around him often. And my three-year-old? Well, he's three. He is pushing every boundary out there.
I wanted to write a thankfulness post today, but I'm just not feeling it right now. And I know that should be all the more reason to write about my thankfulness, but I just gotta purge a little frustration first. I'm thankful that I have a place to do that. :)
This year has really blown by for me. I know tomorrow is Thanksgiving, but I still can't believe that tomorrow's Thanksgiving. Then there's Christmas, and then on to a new year. I keep trying to cherish and remember those little moments with my children, but it all seems to be rushing by so fast. Emma is not a newborn anymore. While I'm thrilled that she is progressing well, I will miss the little bundle of cuddle that you only get from a newborn. Micah is marching headstrong out of babyhood into full fledged toddler-hood. He wants so badly to play with the big boys. My big boy Joel is learning so many new things so fast lately that I worry I'm not keeping up with the pace. It's an awesome thing to see a child grow to better understand the world around him, to watch as things he was once obliviously ignorant towards suddenly bloom with meaning. It goes fast.
Show us something seasonal.
I've been meaning to post these. I guess now is as good a time as any. These are the fruits from our visit with Santa:
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